All the throbbing pain in my entire body rushes in now that I’m no longer able to hide in my mind. Gingerly sitting up, I rub the distended curve of my unsettled belly as I decide to look at the man who was just inside me. “Christ,” I mutter, taking the Lord’s name in vain as if I hadn’t eaten enough soap growing up to deter me. He’s ugly. And old. “What do you mean?”
Cutting a hard look my way, the man pulls his pants up over flabby buttocks before throwing a hat over what’s left of his gray, matted hair. “I mean Joe just sold you to me.”
What? I’ve been sold again? I bite back a laugh of misery. But then a forceful blow knocks my head to the side, bringing a more welcome pain than what I just experienced. After the ringing in my ears subsides, words trickle in.
“...hear me, you dumb bitch? I said get your things. Now hurry up, girl.”
Fine. It’s just another owner. I knew I wouldn’t be here in Hope’s Stand for long.
Cheek throbbing and back aching, I struggle to stand and feel around for my clothes, ignoring the wetness leaking from my backside and dripping down my thigh. Wearing no clothes is nothing new, and in all honesty, I’d rather a man’s eyes than his touch. Eyes don’t cause the kind of pain hands can. Just as I pull the wrinkled and dirty dress over my head, the door to the small room opens, bringing in a fresh wave of dusty air. My lips curl when I see who it is.
Joe.
I hate the chill of his blue eyes. I hate his wiggly gray mustache. I hate the way his boots click on the floor as he walks to me. I hate even more the way he mockingly pats my cheek as he talks to the man claiming to be my new owner. “How was it, Crowley? Nice and tight like I told you she’d be?”
Crowley. So that’s the name of this disgusting old man whose leering eyes are almost as offensive as his stubby cock. But did Joe really sell me to him or is this man trying to steal me?
“Tightest little rump I ever had. And now that I’ve got my debt with the Dooleys paid off and a little left over to spare, I’ma make it all back again in a hurry with her and the brat she’s carrying.”
“Two for one for your new brothel. Plus whatever lucky bitch we snatch up for you. She’ll never see it coming.” Joe and Crowley share a cruel laugh, but two words ring in my ears as I realize what leaving Hope’s Stand means for me.
The brat.
Does he mean my baby?
No. Icy dread stabs into my stomach as if the baby overheard its inevitable fate. He promised me...
I wrap my thin arms uselessly around my belly and try to keep my voice level as I stare into unsympathetic blueeyes. “But Joe, what about parents for the baby? You…you said you’d let me choose someone to adopt it. That it wouldn’t stay here.”
“Did I say that?” With no compassion or remorse for breaking his word, Joe squeezes my shoulders and shoves me down to my knees, forcing me to grab the filthy fabric of his trousers until I get my balance. “Seems by now you’d have learned that men’ll say anything to make a woman happy. Keeps ‘em obedient, see? Now, one more suck for old times’ sake before you go, Mara. Lemme see me how much you’ll miss me. Watch this, Crowley, and see how good her mouth is.”
He lied to me.
Helied.
My baby is going to be born into this hellhole with me, and there’s no way out for us.
None.
I blindly free his cock, and when he plunges it to the back of my throat, he gets more than just my tears from choking as I stare past his cruel, lusting eyes into a void of nothingness.
He gets my tears of anguish.
An hourlater finds me sitting in numb despair with my hands tied in front of me, stowed away in a covered wagon with boxes of supplies for Crowley’s brothel. Pain ripples across my belly again as I belatedly soothe the little feet kicking inside me. Joe and Crowley were talking about the fair that had come to town, and I can hear the sounds of it carrying on the evening air. All the people of Hope’s Stand are likely having the time of their lives with the entertainmenta fair brings, all while being blissfully unaware of what’s happening right under their noses.
How foolish and stupid I was to think Joe would keep his word. I can’t let an innocent child suffer my fate. To let wandering hands slide into private and forbidden places in the middle of the night. To let those same hands muffle its cries of pain. To let what happened to me just moments ago with Crowley and Joe repeat itself. And there’s no use hoping the baby is a boy because I’ve seen some men eager for only the boys.
No one’s safe in this world. Not unless you’re bigger and stronger.
I knew better than to let myself get attached because there’s no escaping this life. Not with men and guns and punishments when I’m caught.
No, the only true escape for the both of us is death. And time is swiftly running short if I’m going to kill myself before my baby’s born to spare it the suffering. Oh, God. I try to draw my knees up, but I can’t with this belly. If I fail and my child and I are left in Crowley’s hands, its fate will be worse than the boy I couldn’t save.
“Get in there, bitch,” Joe says, voice muffled. A moment later, the canvas covering the wagon parts and a girl is shoved in. So this is the “lucky bitch” I get to start Crowley’s brothel with. That’s a matter of perspective for both of us.
Lucky for her that she managed to catch herself on her elbows since her hands are tied just like mine.
Lucky for me that she’s gagged. God knows I’ve got enough thinking to do on the least painful way to leave this world without having to hear her complain all along the way.
