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"Grab her waist." Wes tells Mack, who obeys without taking his hands off me.
Slick grabs the hem of my shirt and rips it over my head. I fight against him, trying to curl my chest into my knees. But all I accomplish is giving Mack better leverage. His hand paws at my bra, ready to tear it away without unhooking the latch. Slick steps back, laughing. "She's a real lively one. Whoever breaks her in is gonna go home with his wallet a lot lighter. Push her on the table."
Mack is happy to do as he’s told, spinning me around and slamming my chest into the table hard enough that it knocks the air out of my lungs and steals the scream from my throat. Slick kicks my legs apart and tugs at my panties, but his fingers have just grazed my skin, slipping under the elastic when Wes speaks. "Leave her like that."
He’s standing on the other side of the table that I’m being ground into and I can feel both men behind me still at his command. "The kind of man that buys a woman like Claire does it because he wants a good girl to ruin. Leave some things to the imagination."
He turns and paces a few feet away before spinning back around and sliding his cell phone from his pocket. Mack weaves his fingers through my hair and yanks my head up. A gasp of pain rips from my throat and more tears spill down my cheeks as I try to get a look at Wes through them. "Mmm." Wes murmurs. "Perfect. Go ahead and cry, Claire. The buyers love that." He snaps a photo—one taken on an old fashioned camera, with a dizzying flash and a loud shutter. White dots from the sudden flash explode in front of my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but everything is spinning and then there’s a cell phone in my face.
"You're sick!" I yell as Mack twists his hips, grinding an erection against my ass. "You're animals!"
"Animals." Slick laughs. "What an insult."
I've been holding out hope that Wes will soften and realize how messed up this is, but they seem to be feeding off of my desperation. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my mind to think of someplace else, trying to escape to that place I used to go where I don't have to be in my body, don't have to feel what they're doing.
But Eric was easy to drown out because he came with routine—always the same excuses, the same string of words, the same motions. It was easy to shut my brain down after the first couple of times, and I thought I’d learned to dissociate to survive. Apparently, it’s a skill that you either use or lose, because I can’t detach myself now.
Wes rubs a finger over my lips and leans in. I see the steady flash of his cellphone through my closed eyelids. "That's perfect, Claire. You're a natural at this. So fucking sexy."
A whimper breaks through my chest and is halfway out of my lungs when I swallow it back. I can feel him move behind me and hear the camera on his phone shutter. Mack yanks me backward so that I straighten, and the bright light cuts through my darkness again. "Open your eyes." Wes says softly.
I don't move a muscle until I feel the blade press against my stomach. "Do it."
My eyes flutter open to see him holding the tip of a blade against me. But he isn't trying to cut me... he leaves that to Slick, offering the knife in his open palm. "Don't go too deep." Wes warns. "But make sure she feels it. The men want to hear her scream. They want a preview of what they’re getting."
"Just the tip." Mack laughs, wrapping his free hand around my neck and pulling me firmly against him.
His breath is hot on my skin. The camera in my face spurs my rage; The light is solid, and I know he’s recording.
"You're pathetic. Can't get women to sleep with you so you have to force them? Fucking animals! You’re sick!"
Their laughter enrages me further. I strain against Mack until the knife presses into my flesh again, the edge digging into me without cutting. "There seems to be some confusion, Claire." Wes says. "We're not going to hurt you... I mean, not much. That pleasure is going to go to the highest bidder."
I don’t need to think about the horrors of that threat, but I do. The highest bidder. There are no words for how despicable that is, but I have to try. "You can't just sell people!" I yell. "I'm not cattle."
"As good as." Mack snorts.
Wes leans into me so that there’s no mistaking; he isn't bluffing. "Baby, I make women disappear for a living. All it takes is a few friends in all the right places and I can have all traces of you wiped off the face of the earth."
“You’re a monster!” I accuse, fighting them the only way I can. But the insult doesn’t bother Wes, who just smirks at me.
“I’m just the same as your dear best friend’s brother… you know, the one you’ve been fucking since our date the other night? You move fast, Claire. Get used to it, cause most of the buyers we have love to share with their friends. Give them a taste, show them what they’ve got, and make them want more. You’re a whore, Claire. Just fucking embrace it!”
As if he were acting on cue, Slick presses the knife into my flesh. I try not to make a sound, but the metal bites into my abdomen, and he drags it across my skin a second, making me gasp in pain. I feel the warmth of blood welling up there, running together, but refuse to look down. Slick glances at Wes, who shakes his head. "You can do better."
Slick licks his lips and adjusts his fingers on the knife before driving it a little above the last spot. This time he digs the blade in deeper and pulls it through me harder, though he seems to do it with all the ease of fileting a fish.
There’s no fighting it. The pain feels like being ripped in half... which is essentially what he’s doing. I've never heard the sound that comes from me. I wouldn't have even known it was human, let alone mine, except it dies when Slick pulls the blade away, turning instead to a strange sound that’s something between gasping and sobbing.
Wes' lips twitch in approval. "Pure fucking magic." He says. His voice is deeper, husky. I shiver at the sound of it and his obvious arousal. "Tell them who you are."
I look at the camera wordlessly as Mack's fingers drum against my throat while the other pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear. "Don't be shy, baby. Let them know who they've got a chance at owning."
I grit my teeth around another scream as Mack slips a hand under my bra, his hot palm cupping my entire breast under the fabric. "If you don't want to tell them, we'll just have to show 'em." Slick drags the bloody tip of the knife between my cleavage, creating a thin line of blood that wells up on my chest. He presses against the bit of fabric that holds the cups together, keeping me covered. If he presses hard enough, the fabric will shred and I'll be exposed not just to them, but to whoever views the video. I swallow my tears enough to squeeze out my name as Mack pinches my nipple hard between his fingers. I cry out in pain and rage, trying to squirm out of his grip. He likes me squirming— I feel his erection growing against my ass and will myself not to vomit.
"They already know your name's Claire." Wes tuts, unenthused. "Tell them who you've been fucking."
"I haven't—"
