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Peter stood by the door, his arms crossed and face unreadable while I was poked and prodded. Whenever our eyes met, he’d scowl and study me harder, no doubt trying to piece together my black hair and light eyes or the fact that my skin matched a shade darker than honey.
When I was younger, our community would always make a fuss over me. They’d claim I was blessed by the sun—thanks to my golden eyes. They’d whisper that I was cursed—thanks to not knowing a single thing about my birth parents.
Was I mixed race? Was I Indian, Persian, English, or Tibetan? What blood flowed in my veins that the doctor currently labelled and tested for sexually transmitted diseases?
Sometimes, late at night, Krish and I would make up tales about the unknown maharaja Father said I came from. Maybe he had eyes like mine. Maybe my mother was queen of the Kingdom of Agartha: the long-lost crystal city hidden inside a hollow Earth. Perhaps I was delivered by fate itself, given to Krish so he was never alone.
Ever since that day, when I’d been found on the steps of the local hospital and adopted by the local cardiologist and his adoring wife—all because their special needs son fell in love with me—I’d been blessed. And I wouldn’t give up that blessing just because I’d somehow fallen into hell.
“Did you hear me?” The doctor pulled off her mask and tilted her head. “Could you be pregnant? I need to know before I administer this.” She held up the syringe that I assumed held a form of contraception.
Contraception because I’d be having unprotected sex.
Lots of it.
With lots of men.
I-I’m going to be sick.
Wedging my fists into my middle, I pressed on the hot, terrified knot inside me. All through the exam, I’d bristled. The fact that she was here—working for a trafficker, tending to his slaves, and doing his illegal bidding—made me violently nauseous.
“How do you do it?” I asked coldly, ignoring her question for the second time. “How do you work for him, knowing what’s in store for me?”
She flicked a look at the nurse still fiddling with vials of my blood before glancing at Peter. He shrugged and gave her a soft smile.
“She means no offense, Dr Belford,” Peter said. “She’s fresh off the plane, and I haven’t had time to tell her our secrets yet.”
Dr Belford, with her late forties face, silver-toned temples, and mousy brown hair, returned his smile. Her dark eyes seemed kind but cold. A complicated mess of medical professional and hired criminal.
Catching my attention again, she said, “I do it because I had mountains of debt from study. I entered this profession to heal and help, yet when I finally became qualified and paid my dues, working my way through the shitty jobs in my local hospital, it all came crashing down when my superior pinned his mistake on me.” Her eyes tightened. “With one lie, he destroyed my reputation and stole my license. To add insult to injury, I was summoned to attend court for the death of the patient he’d overdosed. I faced ten years jail time; I wasn’t even in the ward at the time.”
“H-How could an accusation like that stick, then? If you weren’t even—”
“It stuck because men band together. The old boy’s club in that hospital was a thousand times worse than even this club and its sadistic members.” Her nose wrinkled, adding more fine lines around her eyes. “We believe we won the battle for women’s equality? Let me tell you…we didn’t.”
My mouth fell open. “You dare say that to the girl who’s just been kidnapped? The girl you’re about to inject with birth control, knowing full well she’s going to be raped?”
The doctor didn’t flinch. She stared at me down her sharp nose. “Look, you’d be wise to—”
“I’ll handle this.” Peter moved from the wall, coming to stand beside me. I stayed sitting on the uncomfortable table, our eyes locking even with the height difference. Tucking my straight hair behind my ear, he said softly, “Learn who your enemies are and don’t confuse them with your friends.”
I shivered from his touch but didn’t have time to push him away before he cocked his thumb at the doctor. “Melanie Belford and Rose Ulrich are friends. Without them, our pain would last far longer. They patch us up, give us drugs, and write us notes if we’re not fit to serve. Don’t piss them off.”
He grinned at the doctor. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gotten out of being fucked, all because Dr Belford wrote me a note saying I had a bad case of the stomach flu and in the sanitary interests of everyone involved, I should sit the night out.”
The doctor blushed as Peter pecked her adoringly on the cheek. “My ass thanks you, Mel.”
“Now, now. How many times do I need to tell you to stop trying to seduce me?”
He kissed her again, softly, sweetly. “The offer is there. Any time you want to let loose some of that tension, I’m yours. I owe you a hundred orgasms for the way you’ve looked after me.”
My cheeks burned as the nurse, Rose, came to join us and slapped Peter good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Flirt.”
“Only for you ladies.” Peter grabbed Rose’s hand and kissed her knuckles with a flourish. “I’d happily serve both of you. We could ask Ily to step outside—”
“You’re incorrigible.” Rose laughed under her breath.
“I’m horny,” Peter murmured, kissing his way up her arm. “It’s true what they say. Live in a brothel, and sex becomes your harshest master and greatest freedom.”
