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He rose to the bait. “Excuse me?” he asked. “What is fucking typical?”
I shrugged. “Nothing… it’s just you’re supposed to be this big scary gang leader, and you can’t even torture a defenseless woman without having back up.”
“I don’t need back up,” he snapped.
“Right,” I replied sarcastically. “Hence the entourage.”
“I told you… I like an audience.”
“Is that really it?” I asked. “Or do you just want to humiliate me?”
“Both,” Walter nodded, taking the second bit of bait.
“Of course you do,” I nodded. “Silly of me to ask. I’ll bet it’s stuff like this is that makes you feel like a man, huh? I’m sure your men will be so impressed.”
Walter’s eyes narrowed, and I knew what was coming next. He snapped his head up. “You lot can do whatever. I’m going alone.”
The men exchanged anxious glances, but I noticed a few of them looked relieved. They dispersed almost immediately, and Walter opened the passenger side door of the car in front of us and pushed me inside roughly. Then he got behind the wheel, and we left the house, heading away from town. We drove in silence for almost ten minutes, and during that time, I could only seem to think about all the ways Walter was going to try and make me scream.
I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat, and I decided that he couldn’t; that was just the fear talking.
“So… what was it like living in a house full of men?” Walter asked, breaking the long silence. “Did they pass you around? Did they leave a tip after they were done fucking you?”
“Not all men are animals, Walter,” I replied calmly. “Not all men are like you.”
“Yes, they are,” Walter disagreed. “All men are just different versions of me.”
I turned my attention to the window and refused to look at him, but Walter was not done talking. He was going to insist on making this car ride as awful as possible.
“Did he fuck you?”
I ignored him the first time, but he repeated himself again. When I ignored him the second time, his hand shot out like lightened and made contact with the side of my face. It wasn’t as hard as the first punch I’d received when I’d lost consciousness in the van, but the force of it made me slam into the window, and I saw stars for a second before my vision cleared again.
“When I ask you a question,” Walter said with exaggerated calm. “I expect a fucking answer; do you understand me?”
I pushed back the tears and nodded. “Yes,” I said, in a small voice.
“Good,” Walter nodded, and he sounded satisfied that he’d managed to get his point across. “Now let’s try that again: did he fuck you?”
“Who?” I asked, pretending as though I didn’t know.
“Zack,” Walter replied, and his tone dripped with hatred.
I thought about simply denying it, but a part of me… the newly rebellious part of me that had emerged in the last few months wanted to piss him off. And the only way to do that was to be truthful.
“Yes, he fucked me,” I replied. “And I enjoyed it.”
I saw Walter’s jaw clench dangerously, but the satisfaction I felt was completely worth it.
“Of course you did,” Walter said, but I noticed his tone shook when he spoke. “Because you’re a dirty little slut.”
“I’ll be anything he wants me to be,” I replied calmly.
“You fucked him… and not me?” Walter asked, unable to keep away from that question.
“He’s a real man,” I said. “And you’re just a sorry excuse for one.”
There was a split second of total silence, and I thought he was going to punch me again. “You’re going to regret saying that to me,” he said a moment later.
