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‘Then why me? I didn’t do that to you. I would never…’
Returning my zip to its closed state, I turned back to face him. ‘You started it all, Alfie. You were the catalyst that led me here. Without you, I would have had a life. Instead, I’m going to bring death to them all.’
Alfie’s face warred with expression. Pity. Confusion. Anger. He still didn’t know me. Why would he remember? I was just another hole to him.
‘Let’s see if I can jog your memory, shall I?’
I took the key from Petros and entered the caged area, coming to a stop in front of Alfie before crouching to his eye level. ‘Take a good look at my face. It’s been a long time since you last saw it. Over twenty years. You may remember it being softer, sweeter, or maybe pained and streaked with tears.’
Nothing. Not a glimmer of recognition. Anger flared inside me that such a pivotal moment in my life meant nothing to him. Tossing the keys aside, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flick knife. Alfie’s eyes bugged as I bared the blade and twirled it in my fingers.
‘It was your eighteenth birthday. And two days after mine. My friend and I had taken the train up to Glasgow to celebrate. A whole weekend of fun. When a woman approached us and asked if we wanted to help celebrate a party, we turned her down.’
I leant forward as I spoke and prickled the end of my knife against Alfie’s chest. The muscles in his arms tensed, the cuffs clanking against the metal, but there was little he could do bar trying to kick me away. He seemed wise enough to figure that that might not be in his best interest.
‘I didn’t think much of it when we saw her in a bar later that evening. She even bought us each a drink. That was the last time I saw my friend. I woke up, groggy in a castle, and I was told in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to live, I had to pretend to want to be there. They chose me—especially for you—based on what you wanted. They just took me.’
There it was. A flicker of recognition in his eyes. Just a hint.
‘I was out of it. I didn’t want to be there. My father had forced me to go. I’d taken a whole bunch of pills from the medicine cabinet and downed them with half a bottle of Jack Daniels. It’s all a jumble.’ Alfie’s words spilled out like a stream of fogged consciousness.
‘You took my virginity while I cried into the couch, with everybody watching and cheering you on. You didn’t even speak to me. Just used me. And then forgot.’
Bloody droplets ballooned on his chest as I scored the tip of the knife over his skin. The way his face contorted as he inhaled through his teeth made me smile, I poured my pain into marking him, and I felt a little lighter for the first time in years.
TEN
ALFIE
Pain seared against my chest as she drew the sharp blade over me.
I tried to recall that night. The alcohol and pills had made it seem almost like a fever dream. I’d never have fucked her against her will. I didn’t even want to have sex, back then. My father had made me.
‘My dad told me that you were an escort. That you wanted it. He told me I had no choice. He was sick of me being a disappointment to him, and that I could at least man up in one respect. I’m sorry, Harriet. I had no idea.’
Blonde waves fell in front of her face as her eyes glistened. She pressed the knife against my throat, and everything around me dimmed to the feeling of the metal against my pulse.
‘Truly, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t make it better, I can’t undo what I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t even know I’d hurt you—’
‘Shut up,’ she seethed. ‘Your words mean nothing to me. Lies from a degenerate. I don’t believe a fucking thing that comes from your mouth.’
‘It’s true,’ I whispered, holding her gaze while the knife pressed harder.
‘Even if it was, you left me there, for them. I barely made it through the night. By morning, they had decided that I couldn’t go home after what they had done, and they gave me to the man who bid the most.’
My stomach twisted at her words, guilt washing through me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, at a loss for words.
‘You will be.’
The pressure left my throat, and she left without another word.
Petros didn’t even offer me a glance as he fetched the keys and locked me back in, blood slowly dripping from the large score mark on my chest. Her words echoed through my head, bringing pain with every one. I’d prided myself on always being an excellent lover, on prioritising others’ pleasure and making people’s fantasies come true. Could I really have taken her without her consent like that? Trying to force my mind back to that night was met with fog. Snippets of anger and shame. My father had been so disappointed with the introverted son he’d acquired, he’d wanted someone just like him. I was too effeminate. Too shy. A letdown. He’d told me that I’d be attending my party whether I liked it or not and that I’d become a man that night, whether I liked it or not.
And I had.
The praise he’d showered me with at finally sinking into his hedonistic world was the first I’d ever received, and I fell down the path of seeking his approval, one sordid act at a time.
