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Quick as lightning, he smacks me across the cheek. For a second, I can’t process his hand flying at my face and the sound of the slap, like the most perfect hand clap.
I’m frozen, shocked beyond belief.
My cheek starts stinging. I raise my left hand to my face, the damaged one. As I start to turn my eyes toward Constantine, his hand snakes out again.
This time he catches my damaged hand, pulling it back by the middle finger until I make a rough gasp. In a split second, I go from furious and indignant to worried that Constantine might actually break my fucking hand.
“You’ll do as you’re told,” he announces. “If I say you’re going to suck and fuck your way through my party, you will. If I want you to walk across a bed of hot coals, you will. You’ll do whatever I tell you to, because if you don’t…”
He pulls harder on my finger until I cry out. Then he just smiles, enjoying my anguish.
“If you don’t do what I want, I’ll fucking kill you. I won’t leave you this time until your body is broken, and your bones are nothing but ash. You got me?”
Tears fill my eyes, breaking free and rolling down my face. Rage wells up inside of me. I don’t trust my voice to shout my feelings, not without a betraying tremor of unadulterated fear.
So I act on impulse, spitting in right in his face. His smile slips away, and his face grows deadly serious.
He grabs me by the throat, lifting me off my feet. I start to choke, my fingers clawing at his wrists. But he just holds me up like that, even shaking me a little to get me to stop struggling.
I can’t stop, of course. I flail, my heartbeat loud in my ears, my face filling with blood. I try to scream but I can’t; he’s cut off even the remotest chance I have to breathe.
He pulls me close, whispering to me as one would a prayer to God. “I’m going to break you, Persephone. I’m going to watch you suffer. And then, when you’ve had far too much, I can’t wait to watch the light drain from your eyes.”
I slap at his hands, my vision tingeing red, turning splotchy with fat black spots. Constantine waits another agonizing second and then lets me go, dropping my entire weight. I plummet to the floor, sucking in gasps of air, disoriented.
Constantine bends down, picks up the skimpy white latex outfit, and then throws it at me. It hits me in the head, the metal hanger squeaking as it bounces off and hits the floor. I’m too busy on my hands and knees, trying to recover from nearly being choked to death.
“You have ten minutes,” he says, turning toward the door. “And let me just tell you this now… you don’t want me to come find you, Persephone.”
I hang my head between my shoulder blades, my breaths finally slowing. But by the time I look up, he’s gone.
The door hangs open, gaping in his absence.
Fuck, I really have to get away from here.
