Trust in Me (10 page)

I’d never understood that about fishing, how they could just let them die slowly, suffocating and writhing. We wanted to be put out of our misery. We just couldn’t say so.

A sharp pain registered on the side of my head, and then a dark eclipse. Carlos’s boot on my face, I realized with detachment. He was saying things about how I was his, and how dare Tyler presume. Tyler asked him to let me go, said that I wasn’t important and to focus on the drop. Like the baby in Solomon’s judgment, if one of them didn’t give soon, I’d split right in two.

Carlos snarled. “You want her so bad then fuck her. Do it or I’ll blow her brains out.”

Tyler looked ready to beat Carlos to death. And he could do it, but Carlos had a gun pointing at my head, not to mention fail-safes in place, people who would take retribution and both our lives if Tyler were to fight back.

“Please,” I gasped.

Carlos stepped back smugly as Tyler knelt beside me.

“Just hold on.” His eyes beseeched me to understand things I didn’t. “Let me take you out of here. I don’t care about the drop.”

“No.” I shook my head, wishing I had more air. I wished with all my inconsiderable might that he were still a good guy, a good cop, but either way he had to go. Taking me with him would put him at risk. “Not too deep. I’ll be fine. Do what he says.”

“No. No fucking way.”

It was the only way. Why couldn’t he see that?

“Please,” was all I could say, trying to infuse it with everything I couldn’t.

A long pause bloated with pain and worry, but then I felt gentle hands lift my skirt. I could have sighed in relief if I hadn’t been breathing through the pain. It was like Lamaze, breathing evenly so as not to scream. It was a form of labor, after all. Getting tortured was hard work.

His eyes glued to the mess of blood on my stomach, he pulled out his cock, soft and limp. His limbs moved mechanically, as if he were entranced. Maybe he was in shock. Even for a tough guy soldier and cop, this was sick stuff.

Whatever he was, he wasn’t aroused. He went to put it in and the soft skin just rubbed up against me, as if shrinking away from me. Well, I couldn’t blame it for that, but neither could I let it happen. There was only one way for this to end, and that was with Tyler walking away safely.

I managed to prop myself up, managed not to wail as the skin and muscle pulled apart a little more. Then I reached for his cock and stroked it with a practiced hand.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Look at me.”

He looked up at my eyes. I flinched at what was in his eyes, my own pain reflected back.

“It’s okay. I liked what we did before.” I struggled to keep my voice even, not to betray what this was costing me. “I like your body, so hard and rough. And I think you like mine, when it’s not all messed up like now. My breasts, my cunt. Just think about that. Think about me in your bed, all sexy and pure.”

It was all a lie of course. Well, not the part about me liking him, but the idea that I was pure. Still, it worked, and between my words and the physical touch, he was half-erect. It was enough to put him in, and from there, my body would do the work. It even clenched all on its own, as the pain throbbed through my stomach, as if it were built just for men to hurt and fuck in tandem.

His thrusts were short, jerky things that quickly ended in release. I would have thought he was faking it if I hadn’t felt warmth bathe me below. A glance showed that Carlos wasn’t suspicious. Instead he looked curious, almost bemused, as if he didn’t quite understand what he was watching even though he was the one who ordered it.

In the silence that followed, Carlos laughed with a maniacal ring. I couldn’t fathom what was funny, even in a twisted sense. “You have a little crush. You wanted your dick in her throat, not mine. Well, you should thank me. You got what you wanted, but the fun is over. Something is wrong here. The air is wrong. Go call the other men. We move the shipment up by one hour.”

Tyler didn’t move, still hung over me as if he could protect me, shield me from the horror with his body. God, he should know it was too late for that. It had been too late even when I’d known him as a kid. The horror was inside me, calling to the worst part of men.

“Go,” I whispered.
Go and be safe. Find someone else, someone normal. Be happy.

He breathed harshly, unevenly, reminding me of a cornered animal.

“Do it,” I urged. “Please.”

The harsh ring of Carlos’s cell phone was like some macabre soundtrack in our little drama. He turned away to take the call.

“I know this doesn’t look good,” he whispered. “Just trust me. Just go along with it until this is over, just until the drop and then we’ll nail his ass. Please, Mia.”

“Okay,” I agreed. Anything to keep him from some stupid show of heroics. The relief washed over me like a cool breeze. “Go now. I’ll see you after.”

The light blinded me as he moved off me, allowing the harsh lights to expose me. Only when I heard the slow thuds of his boots on the concrete growing softer as he walked away did I realize I had hoped he
would
save me. But that’s how perverse I was, that I’d wish for Tyler to stay even if it meant his death. Even knowing it was illogical, hope wanted him to care enough to stop this no matter the cost. The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet had never made more sense than right now. Like we’d rather make a dramatic exit together than ever be apart. What crap. Because really, I was alone and hurt. I’d believed him. I trusted him. That was the tragedy.

Give me a little credit,
he’d said.

I never wanted to hope, but it clung like vines, strangling the life out of me.  The first blow landed on my ribs, echoing inside me, because I was empty, so hollow. The second one hit my shoulder. Mostly Carlos liked to kick me for a good beating. It was easier for him to keep up his stamina. The pain screamed through me in a litany of
stupid, stupid, stupid girl for getting your hopes up, for thinking you were worth something.

Only when Carlos heaved, out of breath, did I realize that this one was different. I’d die today, soon but not soon enough. I curled up into a ball, uncaring if it made Carlos angrier, maybe even wishing it did. End it sooner. God, please. And then it stopped.

“Leo,” I heard him snap. “Get in here.”

I shuddered and spasmed on the floor, unable to control my body. These were the moments I wished I were dead, when I was too weak to do anything about it. It was nature’s cruel irony, stringing me along.

“Keep going with her,” Carlos said.

A short pause. “She looks pretty messed up already.”

“Do what I fucking say,” Carlos snapped. “Everyone’s a critic today. I know you want to rip her pretty skin. You want to smear the blood all over her. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t forget that I know you, Leo. Do it now. I’m waiting.”

The caress of leather on fabric signaled Leo’s belt leaving his pants. He put up a good fight against his sadism, but I was like an open bar to an alcoholic. Carlos’s words had inflamed him. I couldn’t look. I didn’t have the strength to turn my head anyway.

A lash hit, and then another. It felt like every hit propelled me across the floor, jerking and gasping, but I was staying still. I knew by the pool of blood and other questionable liquids that grew and grew. It was just like Carlos said—skin ripping and blood smearing.

“I’m going to the meeting,” Carlos said. “Have some fun with her. Take your time and then dispose of her.” He bent down over me, a grin lighting his face. “I lied, you know. He was the one who gave you two away. He was too interested in you, too interested in a used up whore.”

The one who gave you two away.
The two of us, as if he’d learned both our secrets instead of just mine. The shock must have registered on my face even through the bruises, because he laughed.

“Don’t worry,
cara
,” he said. “He’ll pay for that.”

Then the door shut, and I was left in Leo’s care.

Chapter Ten

The belt dropped in front of my face.

“Thank God he’s gone,” Leo said. The hoarseness in his voice wasn’t from exertion. He could beat a man with his fists for hours before tiring. Maybe it was guilt, but my guess was arousal.

The man got so turned on by pain, by a sliced up woman. It wasn’t his fault. He really couldn’t control it. But I couldn’t tell him so. Couldn’t move my jaw at all. It might have been broken.

He knelt beside me. His touch was gentle like Tyler’s, but where Tyler had avoided my cuts and bruises, Leo traced them. They burned from the salt of his skin.

“What’d you do?” His voice held regret, but also a morbid acceptance that he liked it anyway, that he would take what he could get. It was always my fault.

I gave a short shake of my head against the concrete which only succeeded in dizzying me. I didn’t think I had much in the way of consciousness left.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I’m not.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and failing. “You’ve been through enough.”

Some shuffling sounds came to my ear, the very air rustled, and then an even softer touch pricked my open wounds. He was licking me, I realized, tasting my blood, feeling the jagged skin against his tongue. I hated my body for appealing to him, for attracting him, but at least this was passive. When Leo hurt me, I could take myself away in my mind. Carlos never allowed that.

I couldn’t hope that he’d disobey Carlos, not when he’d never done it before, but I could try. “Please, just make it quick. Give me the knife, I’ll do it. Please.”

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I’m not going to kill you.”

That’s how I knew I was in a bad way, that those words inspired disappointment instead of relief. “Why not?” Petulant little girl, bleeding on the floor.

“I need your help.” Light flickered in his eyes and then extinguished—the light of sanity. “There’s going to be a new
jefe
around here. Carlos has gotten out of hand. And Tyler…” He made a low sound of dismissal.

He was hardly the first person to challenge Carlos for leadership. Honestly, I didn’t think he had it in him, not to win, not even to try, but maybe Tyler had really gotten to him.

“A few of the guards are with me already. The rest will scatter when the fighting starts. Carlos and his pretty boy Tyler don’t stand a chance.”

I tried to process this. Maybe Leo didn’t have it in him to actually run this place, but if he’d prepared a trap…

“Why would you need me?” I asked.

“Tyler’s one of my guys. He’s going to take down Carlos there, and in return, I turn over a few big time guys and get immunity. Well, fuck that. I’ve been under Carlos’s thumb for too long to take orders from some fuckwad FBI agent. Once Carlos is dead and Tyler has control of the shipment, you’re my trump card.”

I laughed. The sound in my throat when I heard how crazy it sounded. Maybe Tyler had betrayed me to Carlos. Or maybe he hadn’t since Carlos seemed to know about both of us. But even if he hadn’t, even if this was part of some twisted plan of his to free the slaves, to get me out, to get a promotion, he didn’t give a shit about me. “Tyler doesn’t want me.”

Leo gave me a kick in the ribs, almost a friendly admonition, like a light punch in the arm. “You stupid girl. What do you think this is all about?”

I thought back to when Tyler had asked to buy me. Carlos had refused again and again. Did Tyler really want me as his whore that badly?

Leo shook his head. “You don’t get it. He came here looking for you. That’s how I first found him out, sniffing around for a Mia who grew up on the southside. Brown hair, that’s all he knew. I was just going to blow his brains out, you know, just to keep him out of Carlos’s business. But he’s real eager to talk to you, see if you’re okay or some shit. That made me laugh, you know, because look at you, but I figured if he wanted access that badly, I could use him.”

I blinked up at the rafters, my eyes finally dry. I was all messed up from the beating, still smarting over the betrayal. That had to be why this wasn’t making any sense. He’d come here for me?

“Yeah, he has it bad.” Leo looked me up and down, unimpressed. “I guess you’re not that messed up. For a whore.” He pulled out his half-erect cock with a helpless shrug. “There’s still time.”

I shut my eyes against the yellow stream, but the hot slap against my skin and the acrid smell assaulted me just the same. My skin would’ve crawled if it weren’t already burning from the acidic wash. I was already going to be his meal ticket. Did I really need to get literally pissed on, too? But that’s Leo for you.

* * *

Leo gave me a few minutes to wash off in the shower and put on some wet clothes. He wasn’t being considerate. We’d made it all the way downstairs before he sniffed, probably realizing he’d be stuck in the car with me covered in cooling piss.

“In.” He nodded me toward my bathroom.

I stripped my clothes without modesty, eager to let the scorching hot water burn away the memories. That was one of the great things about being housed in this industrial complex, the hotel-like water heater. Even as large as it was, I probably used up most of the hot water. But I was often the only girl around here, and I figured that garnered me some privileges despite my lowly status.

When I stepped out of the shower, Leo wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. I heard his low murmurs coming from the hallway. Where other women’s counters might be stocked with lotions and powders, I had disinfectant and antibiotic creams. With a quickness born of practice, I cleaned the cut on my stomach—fuck, it burned—and some of the bigger scrapes. Then I used extra-large butterfly tape to seal the cut closed.

I’d heard about those liquid stitches, where you could paint it over the wound like white-out, but they didn’t carry them at my usual online pharmacy which was set up with illegal pain meds and Carlos’s credit card. Speaking of which, I popped a couple of pain pills. I was feeling a little light-headed, I thought. Yes.

I started as I realized I was staring at the wall.