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Authors: Mercy Cortez

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BOOK: Messy and Shattered
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Chapter Eighteen - Aimee

I was bent over the bed. I felt pretty fucking stupid and my whole body still ached from the psycho that beat me.

"Legs wider
." I moved a little and sighed out of sheer boredom.

"Wider, Aimee
," he grumbled.

"Why? What are you expecting to see? It
’s my arse, I’m sure you've seen quite a few, it generally doesn’t change much from person to person." I wasn't scared of Draco, how fucking stupid was that? The other guy beat me, Draco murdered my sister in front of me, yet I feel safer with him? Yeah, I’m definitely going insane. I felt him behind me, he didn't speak. He pushed my thighs apart and placed his hand on my bare arse.

"Did you know, if you open
ed your legs wider ..." I felt a sharp sting on my arse, he had slapped me hard against my arse cheek; I bit inside my mouth to stop a little whine and he rubbed my arse cheek lightly “... That wouldn't have hurt so much?"

I pushed my le
gs wider still and he laughed. My mind flew. Flew to a place I kept kicking away. To the place that told me I loved his laugh, like a joy in the mix of hate, like the happiness in a sea of sadness. It was obscene, but my mind kept betraying my need to hate this murderer and his laugh didn't help.

"Ready
?"

B
efore I had a chance to respond, he struck my arse - harder this time - and I knew he had been a little kind before. He didn't rub me this time; he just struck me again and again and I felt tears in my eyes. He started speaking through the smacks and I tried to listen. I felt myself becoming aroused and I pushed to remove this idiotic response to a man beating me like I was a little girl, getting a slap on the arse… but this was more erotic, his moan every time he caught my arse cheek made my breath shake. His voice; don't cry, and listen to his voice.

"You know
, I was right about you. A fighter, even now, not giving me a moan or a tear, just fighting through the pain. That's the best way. Listen, because you need to know to understand… in a couple of weeks you’ll be taken to a show..." I breathed harder as he began rubbing my cheeks a little and then hitting again, "...This show is called The Lights."

He stopped hitting and talking. He made me face him. He looked at my dry cheeks and my tear filled eyes and pushed me to sit on the bed.

"You can cry, you know. It honestly doesn't get me off, my dear. Now, this show… ever heard of the red light district?" he asked so casually like he hadn't just left bruises all over my arse and that him making me sit wasn't agonizing. And no, I wouldn't cry. I was refusing to now, until it was really necessary.

"Yes, I have heard of it. Why?" I sat naked on the
bed. He was sweating a little - from hitting me, I guess. My privates still tingled a little, but I chose to ignore it.

"It is sort of like that. B
asically, there are windows - about thirty or so. Each window has a male or female for sale. If someone is interested in purchasing the person in the window, they push a button and the light turns on. Then your trainer – me, in this case - shows them how obedient you are, and if they like it, they make a bid at the auction. It’s simple, really. After that, they have one night with you, and then they double the bid they made for the night to keep you permanently. So you see, you need to be prepared." He said it like it was no big deal, like it was just a process. It occurred to me that to him, I was apparently a product, and therefore it really meant nothing how I felt. So why couldn't I believe that? Why did I see fucking kindness in those eyes when I wanted to see the depths of hell? I was a Sociology student, I knew the reason why. I knew what was happening and yet I decided not to allow my brain to realise it, not yet. He was a murderer. He beat me and he would sell me without a second thought. My plan was simple: make him buy me. Stupid, maybe, but I thought, better the devil you know than the devil you don't. I realized, though, that I was nothing to him, my plan would fail and for the first time since I had seen my sister bleed to death, I felt truly hopeless. I clutched my locket, trying to really believe that I wasn't alone, but really, what did I have?

I would be sold soon. M
aybe it was about time I accepted it.

"Okay. So what do you want me to do?" I noticed his head move ever so slightly to the side in a mix
of confusion and satisfaction. He expected me to fight or ask questions and maybe eventually I would, but right now I just wanted to give in and sob, pretending it was from the pain he was giving me when I felt in my soul I had just died. My body was the only thing left and it was almost damaged beyond repair.

I
t had taken a week for him to break me. In two more, I would be shattered.

Chapter Eighteen - Draco

I hadn't been kind to her. I left her laying on the bed sobbing for the third day in a row. Today I had shown her an array of instruments I would use at the show. Her eyes were glassy the entire time, and I tried to pretend that I didn't notice. I had to show her many things. She was being sold for whatever the buyer wanted, sex may not even come into it; the man who buys her may just beat her, but I had little doubt he would also rape her. She had to gain a high pain tolerance, or before long, she would end up unresponsive and in shock, which would bode poorly for everyone. She needed to be perfect so that my plan would work.

I looked at her sitting in the bed as I watched the monitor
s. She was staring into nothing. I was fairly certain she was experiencing cabin fever; she had nothing to do all day but wait for me. Of course, that was the general idea. Usually when we had a girl I would spend most of my time in here, in this dusty office, with three pine desks, one leather chair and spot lights shining down on the three LCD screens showing all her movements. I would just sit in the leather desk chair and watch to make sure everything was going well. I had trained a couple of girls when Rahul was otherwise engaged, and I always sensed the sigh of relief they had when I walked into the room instead of Rahul. I remember one girl, Fatima, was fairly old for what we usually take at twenty five but she had such radiant beauty. She only spoke Portuguese, and therefore hardly ever spoke at all. One day when Rahul was away with one of his many prostitutes, she kept repeating the same words to me over and over: “me matar.” At the time, I had no idea what the words meant, but later I found out what she was saying. She had been pleading with me to kill her.

I watched Aimee
for an hour. I was slightly curious where Rahul could be, but I decided not to care. He had been gone longer before, and he always came back. I felt something as I watched her. She was still naked, which amused me a little. I guess she thought it made sense, but she had been so modest before. But then, all her modesty had been stripped from her. She had lost weight. Her hip bones where defined and her stomach extremely flat; she had been skinny anyway and the lack of food made the weight fall off of her. She needed to be bigger and healthier. I was telling myself it was for the show, I knew deep down the show wasn’t what I cared about. Her hazel eyes just looked distant and confused. The bruises on her face had gone a little yellow and I was hopeful that it looked worse than it was.

I needed to be near her. Tha
t was a thought I kept blocking, it was ridiculous. I had been warned by Jethro countless times that in this line of business, Stockholm syndrome was almost expected, but I was fairly certain the captors didn’t feel it. And yet, here I was, looking at this broken girl who rarely smiled anymore and all I wanted to do was go in there and hold her and make it all okay. Of course it would be a lie, but I think I needed the lie as much as she did.  She was going to be gone soon. That was that. I got up with the intention of leaving her be and give her some privacy. Instead, I walked straight to her door.

I entered and she lo
oked at me. For a split second a smile crossed her lips, so slight that if I wasn’t trained in psychology and body language analysis, I wouldn’t have noticed. She was pleased to see me, even if she couldn’t admit it.

“Hello. H
ow are you feeling?” I was trying to be polite, I felt like the beast making an effort to be kind to the beauty. The only difference is that this beauty wouldn’t find her handsome prince in the end.

“I’m great. T
his is like a holiday for me. I’m having the best time. Don’t suppose I can leave now? No? Didn’t think so.” She was so sarcastic, and although, in a way, she was dead serious I think that her wit was her way of surviving, her way of keeping a tiny amount of sanity.

“Well as lo
ng as you’re enjoying yourself. How about your bruises, are they healing okay?” She would assume I only cared because of the show.

She didn’t say anything and so I moved closer and touc
hed her bruises on her thighs. She moved away a little and then let me.

“They seem to be healing. The cuts aren’
t infected, that’s good.”

I moved in closer
and cupped her face in my hand, and she took a sharp breath. I found myself mumble ‘beautiful’ under my breath, and then I was captivated by her stare. I quickly pulled away.

“You’ll be fine
, they’ll clear up in no time,” I whispered to her.

I had to leave before
I did something un-insane captor Draco-like. I stood to get up when she touched my arm.

“You have a scar
.” She lightly placed her fingers where three small scars lay on the inside of my forearm.

“Yeah.
Nothing, really.” I went to yank my hand away. I didn’t want to discuss any of my real life with her, even if it was a life I barely remember.

She started rocking in the be
d and my mind worried for her. She needed to get out of here. She needed something to keep her mind active or she would be unresponsive anyway, and seeing Aimee lose her wit would be like looking into a soulless being. She would have finally lost everything. I grabbed her by the hand and she stood automatically. I wasn’t sure this was exactly a great plan, but she couldn’t lose her mind in here. She had to fight so I could help her. I marched her through the doors; the musty brown hallway, the clinical porch and to the large wooden and metal door leading to open air, to sunlight, to the world. I opened it and watched her expression. I quickly grabbed some rope by the door and tied her to me.

“What are you doing, Draco?” She stared into the empty landscape,
the trees and fields of nothing. The sun hit her naked skin and showed how delightful and sun-kissed it looked in the light. She smiled, a genuine smile of hope and life. I stared at her with my mind in a place I hadn’t found in so many years. I named the place in my mind, I named the emotion. It was happiness. Seeing her smile evoked such a warm feeling of happiness inside me I never wanted to look away. Her eyes narrowed and the rope tugged a little, I heard footsteps, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Her mouth dropped open and suddenly her eyes locked onto mine while she tried to run with me attached to her. She knew she couldn’t really move and instead her arms moved around me and she pressed herself against me; hiding in my chest.

“Please, Draco. Please don’t let him. Please
.” She was speaking fast and scared. I finally looked up to Rahul staring back.

Chapter Nineteen - Aimee

I needed to run, needed to be away from him. Suddenly I wanted clothes on. I didn’t want him to see me. I pulled so close into Draco, he was the only protection I had and it made me hate myself for needing him.

“Hello, Rahul. Welcome back. A
s you can see, you left your mark on her. It’ll be fun trying to sell her like this.” Draco had a tone of annoyance and impatience in his voice, and the man - the one who had tried to rape me - finally had a name.

Rahul looked ove
r my body with a dirty grin on his face and I looked down to the ground, disgusted and terrified. Draco pulled me closer.

“Draco,
what the hell is she doing out here? Ugh, never mind. The Lights, nice work. Jay, Kavok’s assistant, called me. He wants to meet our little Aimee. Kavok, as you know, is one of the most influential men in the industry, and I did some research. His last slave was just sold to a brothel and he needs a new one. I think this little bitch would be perfect.”

I watched his vile lips move as he spoke
, trying to take in the information. Draco held firm and didn’t move back into the house which surprised me. Draco smiled at Rahul and shook his hand in a congratulatory manor. Why did I feel betrayed? This was who Draco was. I was one of many.

“One thing though
, Draco. I need to be the one to train her.” He said it so dominantly that it held no realm for any objection. It just was. Draco held his facial expression stern and cold. He was pretty pissed about the whole idea and you needed no psych degree to see it.

“She is mine, Rahul. I train her. We made a deal
.” Rahul chuckled at Draco and then punched him square in the face, knocking him back a little. I stared in shock and waited for Draco to hit back but he didn’t.

“You killed mine,
so now I have yours. Tit for tat, Draco” I felt as tears burnt in my eyes and I searched Draco’s eyes for any hope, but none came. I wanted Draco. I needed him. I felt Rahul’s clammy hand grab the rope holding Draco and I together and he pulled it away. He took me by the arm and marched me back inside and straight to my cell.

I screamed out
to Draco and he smiled at me in what was supposed to be encouragement, but his eyes looked full of sadness and hopelessness. I felt my throat retch from screaming out, his name scratching my mouth like knives and the feeling spreading to the rest of my body. My mind spun to a different place. I was going insane, I could feel it, his name left my lips one last time and I gave in. I looked into Rahul’s evil, dead eyes and closed my own in what felt like slow motion. I pinched them shut and remembered Erin’s face. Her favorite song, Lana Del Rey’s Summertime Sadness, flooded my memory while I was laughing with her at home, our mother watching as I tickled her in bed, our laughter echoing through my lavender-coloured bedroom. The line in the song, ‘nothing scares me anymore,’ repeats in my mind, and I see Erin so clearly, like a gift of her presence, in my mind’s eye. I feel as a punch hits my face and I block it out with my eyes firmly shut and I ignore the tear dripping down my cheeks as I listen to Erin sing along with Lana, reminding me over and over that nothing scares me anymore. I feel his hands wandering over my naked flesh, Erin whispers into my ear in my thoughts,
he can have your body, but he can’t have your soul
. I hear his demands and I comply while not really caring what he is asking. He is behind me. I can feel his hands on my behind. I adjust my thoughts.
I am not here, this girl is not me. His finger is inside another girl, she isn’t me
. I feel as my confidence rises; as my fear yields to my epiphany of acceptance. I was no longer Aimee, I was whatever these men had made me. Erin wasn’t the only one to die that night and now I was molded into what they needed; I am a slave, I am a product.

“I am nothing.”

I fluttered my eyes open and smiled at the camera where Draco would be watching. I was a fighter. Even in this new world and this new mind, I would fight. I kicked behind me as I had been crouched on the floor and knocked Rahul to the ground. He wasn’t badly hurt, just surprised and winded. I knew Draco would have to stop me if I carried on. I crawled fast along the floor like an animal and savagely sunk my teeth fast into Rahul’s dirty index finger; I felt the flesh and blood in my mouth and the crunch of some bone; the practice with Draco had come in handy and I knew how much pressure was too much. Rahul tried to swipe at me with his hand but my adrenaline was kicking in strong and I needed to get his finger so I could use it on the scanner, then I could escape. If not Draco would have to stop me before that point. I tasted blood trickling down my throat and suddenly felt hands grabbing my shoulders and rip me away. My teeth clenched over Rahul’s skin, taking a layer of it off as Draco ripped me away with force. I could still taste his blood in my mouth and I looked up at Draco as I lay naked and vulnerable on the floor. His eyes couldn’t hide emotion, or maybe they couldn’t hide my warped delusions as I saw them sparkle with pride as he moved over to me and quickly injected me with something that made me drowsy and disorientated.

My eyes grew heavy as I watched Draco and Rahul argue.

“See why I’m training her now? She is a handful, you can’t just think you can beat her into submission, you know that doesn’t work, not for how we want to portray her at the show. Forget about Erin, she is gone.”

“Erin now…” I kept feeling myself lose
consciousness, missing information as my brain tried to recover “…You need to be harsher Draco….Okay, fine….She is worth too much Rahul, you can’t leave scars on…Two weeks then…at the show I will deal with her, Draco.”

BOOK: Messy and Shattered
8.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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