I chuckled at her analysis as I bent to one knee. Jamieson was already dissected into various pieces. Picking up an arm, I walked over to the wooden barrier that kept the sleeping pigs.
“Aye, wake y'all asses up!” I screamed before making a pig calling noise to signal to these fuckers that they needed to get up. One by one, the pigs opened their eyes and slowly got to their feet. Dior began whimpering again, her eyes filled with terror at what she was witnessing.
“You see, Dior pigs are nasty mothafuckas. Personally, I have no idea why people even consume pork. Shit is beyond fucking disgusting to me. Do you know why?” This may have sounded like a question, but it really wasn’t.
“It’s because pigs eat anything,” as I said that, I tossed Jamieson’s hand inside the pig pen. Those fat bastards didn’t waste any time; they waddled their fat asses over and began gnawing at their late-night snack.
“Oh, my God, Buddha,” Dior said with disgust, covering her mouth as she looked away.
I enjoyed her reaction. I liked the way her face paled and the way she looked like she was about to throw up. I bent again, this time picking up one of Jamieson’s legs and tossed that bad boy in there also.
“These fuckers leave nothing behind, not even bone; they eat all that shit,” I elaborated as I watched the animals in fascination as they tore into the human limbs. The sound of Dior vomiting shifted my attention from the pigs. She leaned over the wooden barriers and threw up again and again.
One of the pigs strolled over and began eating her vomit. Yeah, I had no clue why people ate pork. Realizing that Dior got the point, I walked over and grabbed her arm.
“Look at me, Dior,” I demanded. With her tear-soaked brown eyes, she lifted them at me.
“Now, tell me. Are you going to try that shit again? Are you going to try to run away in the middle of the night again, disturbing my sleep?” I asked, using my knuckles to brush away a tear from her cheek.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, what’s that?”
“No, Buddha.”
“That’s my good girl. Now let’s go,” I reached for her hand so that I could lead her out of the pig farm. First thing in the morning, I would be back to finish feeding Jamieson to the pigs. The walk back to my house was quiet. Mostly because Dior was in shock by what she saw. She was numb.
As we walked into the house, Lotus began barking at her. She knew what Dior did, and she knew it was wrong; she barked to let me know.
“Enough, Lotus. Go lie down,” she hesitantly did as she was told and walked over to her bed. Taking Dior into the bathroom, I removed the chair she used to help her escape. When I got rid of the clothing in the garbage bag, I would burn this chair right along with it.
“Go shower,” I told her, standing in the room waiting for her to do as she was told. Dior’s movements were robotic as she stripped off the t-shirt I gave her. For once, she didn’t try to hide from me. She took off her clothes and got in the shower, doing as she was asked. I ignored the fact that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“Come on, let’s go,” I said after five minutes of her showering. Silently, she turned off the water, and I handed her a towel. Drying herself in my presence, she waited for her next instruction.
“The clothes I brought you this morning. There’s a sweatsuit in there, go put it on,” Dior remained quiet as she walked into the bedroom and opened the drawer wherethe clothing given to her was neatly folded. After finding the sweatsuit I requested, she got a pair of panties, put them on, and slipped into the baby-pink sweatsuit. Never once did I look away as she dressed. Dior had the sexiest physique, I swear, I’d ever seen. She had the cutest birthmark on her right ass cheek.
“Get your shoes on and let’s go.” Taking a black t-shirt from my drawer, I put it on, irritated that I had to be dealing with this bull-shit at this time of night. Grabbing the key fob for my Bugatti, I began making my way to the front door. I stopped to put a pair of sneakers on my feet.
“Where are you taking me?” Dior found her voice again as we made our way to the car. I said nothing as I opened the door for her to get in. Getting behind the wheel, I sighed heavily as I started the engine.
“Where are you taking me?” Dior asked for the second time.
“La stanza buia, (the dark room),” I answered her question purposely in Italian. Dior got a look that said she was trying to remember where she had heard that name before.
“I’ve heard you say that before. Where is that?”
“That’s because you’ve been there before,” I said, taking my phone so I could call Lorenzo. I had a job for him.
“Are you seriously going to leave me in here?” Dior said after we got to the main house, and I led her to the dark room, placing her on the chair.
“Was there any time I wasn’t serious?” I asked her as I got ready to leave.
“Buddha, I said I was sorry. You can’t lock me away in here,” Dior begged, grabbing at my t-shirt as she tried following me. I quickly turned to face her.
“Where did I just put you? Go sit to fuck down. You wanted to play stupid games, right? You know what they say, play stupid games, and win stupid prizes. Lorenzo will be behind that doorat all times. He’ll see about your needs, and just in case you try some stupid shit again. He has full instructions to put a bullet in your head, I could give a fuck. I’ll be back to get you on the day of our wedding.”
Saying nothing else, I walked out of the room and closed the door. I nodded at Lorenzo, who nodded back at me.
