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That’s the problem with being here, having no hope, it changes you. There’s a big part of me that wants more than anything for Lilly to get her happily ever after with her guys—no matter how absurd it is to think she can be with three guys and have zero issues.
But the other part of me is jealous as hell. I don’t have one guy to save me, and she has three. Her guys know her scars, they know the horrors she’s endured, and yet they still want her. If I ever do make it out of this, what self respecting man is going to want someone who has been through what I have? Who is as broken and damaged as I am?
I may have only been orally raped so far, but I’m not naïve enough to think it will stay that way. Desmond was, in his own weird way, protecting me, and he made sure nobody touched me. When I was taken by Whitlock, although he was immeasurably crueller, he still made sure that nobody did anything sexual with me.
The Sheriff has no such reservations. And after I killed one of his men and helped those two girls escape, he’s made it very fucking clear that I owe him. And here at Club Crimson, there’s only one way to pay back your debt—on your back or knees.
“I know you say I sound like a Disney movie, but I believe they’re still together, and I believe they’re coming for me. I also believe there’s someone out there looking for you. I might not be able to see your face clearly, but I can see the look you get in your eyes when you’re lost in thought—thinking about him,” she replies, and my breath hitches.
I’ve never told her about Evan. I guess those memories, of a happier time, I want to keep all for myself. Sharing them in this environment, I feel like I’d be tainting them, and I’m already ruined enough without losing those too.
I need to change the subject, as I’m not sure I can outwardly lie to her if she asks me about him. “When I was being punished, I heard them say I’m going up for auction. Do you know anything about it?”
Although Lilly is just as badly treated as the rest of us, she’s not in the same situation as us. Whilst me and the other girls work for Club Crimson, she’s The Sheriff’s personal whore. She spends time with him, does his bidding, and can move around with a lot more freedom than we can. Although he often lends her out to valued customers for a night, she’s not for sale.
The freedom she has to move around the club, attending meetings with The Sheriff where he shows her off, means she has a unique insight into the inner workings of the club. It also means she’s able to help the girls as much as she can.
Most nights, he insists she sleep with him, but when he’s out of town, or he’s bored with her, that’s when Lilly stays with me. Otherwise, she has to sneak in to take care of us.
He knows she’s doing it—he has to know—but he doesn’t stop her. Though I have no fucking clue why, and that very thought has always made me nervous of trusting Lilly, who has never been anything but kind and open with me.
She takes a shuddering breath, which I feel against my face, and my heart stutters. I’ve seen girls after they’ve been headliners at performances, and so I’m aware of how they are afterwards…but nobody ever comes back from an auction.
“Do you really want to know?” she mutters, her voice seeming even quieter than normal.
“Yes, please.”
She lets out a loud sigh before taking my hand in hers, squeezing gently. “The Sheriff is pissed after what you did. His guard died…Tee. He wants to punish you more than he already is. One of the girls who escaped was supposed to be a headlineperformer in two weeks. The other girl was a regular who earned him a lot of money each night.”
She pauses, and I can’t help but fill the uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t know I’d killed him.” I don’t feel as much guilt as I should, but my stomach twists as I realise how much trouble I’ve brought on myself.
I don’t regret it, even for a second… Though my self preservation thinks maybe I should.
The second girl—the one who earns a lot of money each night—she’s the one I killed that asshole for. He was moving us back to our cells after a particularly hideous night. Lucy was her name, and she’d been here longer than I had, which is a fucking travesty given she is only thirteen-years-old.
Each night she was used and abused by men who paid The Sheriff for the pleasure. That night she had been beaten for not being as enthusiastic in her rape as she should have been. If I had to guess, she had a broken rib or two, and was struggling to walk. Me and the other girl, Lena, we put her arms around her shoulders and helped her back to her cell.
When that asshole guard saw us, he made us put her down. Said that whores should be able to look after themselves. She dropped to the floor, barely able to hold herself upright, and he taunted her. He told her she was where she was supposed to be—on her knees—and he made her crawl behind us to her cell.
When Lucy didn’t move fast enough, he started to beat her. When she collapsed to the floor, he started removing his trousers, intent on punishing her more, and I saw red. I’ve spent months doing as I’m told, biting my tongue, and taking any supposed punishments I was doled out. But seeing him beat on the broken, helpless, defenceless girl was the final fucking straw.
Luckily, he’d clearly been drinking, and as soon as I punched him, I caught him off-guard. His trousers were around his ankles, which helped push him off balance, and he tumbled tothe floor. Before I even knew what was happening, Lena grabbed the gun out of his waistband, and I fumbled in his pockets until I found a blade.
I pointed at the exit and told Lena to run with Lucy. She had the gun and was the closest to the door. The only problem for me was that I’d have to get past the guard, who was now clambering to his feet, albeit somewhat dizzily still.
As he stalked towards me, I could hear footsteps approaching quickly behind me, and I knew my window of opportunity was diminishing. The exit door slammed shut as Lena and Lucy made their escape, and I felt a moment of relief, despite my fucking awful predicament.
My brain wasn’t really firing on all cylinders, as all I could think about was how desperately I wanted to get past this guard and run out the fire door with Lena and Lucy. The footsteps behind me got louder, and I could tell there were multiple people running straight for me. It felt like the walls were closing in, and there’s only one thing that happens when a wounded animal feels caged—they fight back with everything they have.
Using the only weapon at my disposal, I gripped onto the knife tighter and started stabbing and slashing at the guard in front of me. I didn’t really think about what I was doing, I just kept stabbing until he dropped to the floor.
Without thinking, I jumped over him and ran as fast as I could towards the door I’d watched the young girls escape through. I managed to get my fingertips on the handle before the world came crashing down around me.
The knife was pulled out of my hand, as what felt like much more than three people pulled me to the ground. Blows of so many varieties rained down on me until I eventually passed out.
The whole time my body was exploding with pain. When I should have been feeling sorry for myself that I wasn’t able toescape, all I could think about was how fucking pleased I was that I was able to help Lena and Lucy get to safety.
I have no idea how old Lena was, but I’d hazard a guess that she was under sixteen too. I’d seen the way some of the older girls were when they returned from being headline acts, and I knew I had to help them. Nobody their age should endure the things they’ve been put through.
