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“That’s our dinner arriving,” he informed me. “I need to let them in. Wait here, and I’ll get everything set up in the dining room. Then, I’ll come back to get you. Don’t put any weight on your feet.”
I nodded mutely, too shocked at my own behavior to come up with an argument. I wasn’t even certain if there was a reason for me to argue with him. He was only trying to arrange dinner for me and keep me from experiencing the pain of walking on my ravaged feet. Why would I argue with that?
He shifted me off his lap and set me back down on the couch. While he left me to follow through with his promises, I sipped at the delicious mezcal he’d bought for me. The aftertaste was much sweeter when it was followed by his kiss.
The pervasive chill of being trapped underground had turned my bones to ice… How long ago? In the pitch dark, I had no concept of the passage of time. I might have been locked down here for days. Or maybe it had only been hours.
The concrete that made up the confines of my cage reeked of perpetual damp, the basement never warmed by the sun’s rays.
Bright, fluorescent light burst through my cramped cell, the searing burn against my eyes drawing a harsh cry from my lips.
“I’ll let you out if you’re ready to behave.”
A shameful shudder wracked my frozen, naked body as Miguel’s harsh voice boomed through the basement. The only small mercy of the cold was that it dulled the pain he’d inflicted. The wrenching ache deep between my legs served as a horrific reminder of what had happened the last time I hadn’t behaved.
I should have known better. It hurt less when I didn’t fight him.
But my fury had made me reckless.
The urge to keep my eyes closed and avoid the nauseating sight of him was strong, but I forced myself to look at my tormentor. He loomed over me where I huddled on the dank floor, the harsh lighting catching in each craggy wrinkle on his face. The shadows transformed his visage into a monstrous mask that revealed his true nature.
“Are you going to come upstairs quietly, or do you need another lesson before I leave you down here to think about your choices?” His hand twitched around the Taser he used to put me down when I became violent.
I rarely dared violence anymore.
Compliance and acceptance of my place meant I got to pretend to be human. I was allowed to live in the house above, eat warm meals, and sleep in a soft bed.
Rebellion always ended with me being raw inside and thrown down here to slowly go mad in the interminable darkness.
“I’d like to come upstairs,” I rasped. “Please.”
“Then get your ass up,” he sneered when I appropriately waited for his permission to rise. “I’m not going to carry you.”
My joints popped, and my cramped muscles protested, but I managed to get to my feet.
His meaty hand locked around my nape, his thumb pressing hard on the brand he’d carved into my skin. “Don’t make me put you down here again,” he seethed. “I want you in my bed where you belong.”
“I’m sorry.” I choked on the apology, debasing myself to attain the only means to see the sun. Self-loathing had long ago taken root inside me, grasping tendrils twining around my heart tight enough to stifle its beating.
Miguel leveraged his hold on my nape to drag me flush with his chest, crushing his thin lips down on mine in a perversion of a kiss. He assaulted my mouth, smothering me until I could scarcely breathe.
“Carmen.” A masculine voice rasped in my ear, and a strong hand closed around my shoulder.
My eyes snapped open, and I stared out into inky blackness. Ice crystallized in my veins, terror slicing at my insides.
“No,” I moaned, horror churning my gut and coating the back of my tongue with acidic bile.
Blindly, I reached out, fumbling through the dark to test the walls of my prison. When my hands hit nothing, I pushed to my knees and stumbled forward, desperation driving me to find the limits of my cage.
The ground disappeared beneath me, and I dropped several feet before my body hit the floor.
A harsh curse filled the space, and light suddenly flooded the room.
This time, I kept my eyes squeezed shut against the burn. I couldn’t bear to look at Miguel’s maddened brown eyes and endure the humiliation of his triumphant smirk when I begged for his forgiveness.
I pressed my hand against my nape, feeling the raised scar that marked me as his property.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered brokenly.
“For what? Carmen, open your eyes. Look at me.” The rough command compelled my compliance.
I swallowed against the urge to vomit and forced myself to meet his gaze.
