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I try to beg him with my eyes, wanting him to be better, wanting him to refuse even though I know the day ends the same way for me. I want proof that some people still have an ounce of humanity in them.
“I’m going to fuck you until you scream, bitch.”
I jerk at the digital voice echoing around the room. It takes me a long moment to register that the fucking client is going to be the one to dictate what happens in here. Just the thought of it makes it more of a violation than I originally considered it to be.
The man’s jaw clenches, his hands tight fists at his sides. I don’t know how to read the way he rolls his neck on his shoulders, a popping sound meeting my ears as he cracks his neck. Is this the way he would prepare for a fight? Is he still on the fence about his level of participation?
He looks to the side, and I know that Pirro is still sending cues on the teleprompter for him, because whatever he sees makes him take a step forward.
“Please don’t,” I beg, and the man actually falters.
“Going to fuck you bloody.” It’s only the second time he’s spoken, but I want to call the client a complete pussy for having his voice altered in an effort to avoid being identified. If he’s brazen enough to pay to have people hurt each other, he should at least have enough balls to do it with his real fucking voice.
“Look how scared you are. I could come just watching your ragged breaths and the way they make your tits rise and fall. Too bad I’m going to leave bruises all over these perfect tits. They feel so good in my hands.”
The man stands on the side of the bed, frozen, the blank look on his face telling me that he’s not really seeing me. He’s distant, lost somewhere in his head, as if disassociating from this entire event.
“They feel so good in my fucking hands,” the client growls, repeating his prompt.
I open my mouth to beg him to just do what the fuck he’s told, but I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. It makes my entire body tremble, my head working out the scenario of him being shot and how the blood will coat my skin. It wouldn’t stop the next guy from stepping up and following through.
I jerk another plea on my lips when a cold hand rises to my left breast.
The man still isn’t looking at me, despite his grip on my skin.
Sympathy for him swims in my gut, but no matter how hard I try to shake the feeling, I just can’t get it to release me from its clutches. I can’t think of anyone but Alani, and the fact that he somehow has the ability to make me lose focus, angers the hell out of me.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I rage, jerking against the ropes at my wrists.
Fire runs up my arms, and I don’t have to look to know I’ve caused my own injuries.
His eyes snap down to mine.
“You sick fuck. Get your hands off me.”
I want to puke at the sound of the cha-chings echoing around the room. I hate that the fucking client likes how I’ve acted.
“I’m going to fuck the fight right out of you, little girl.”
I force the bile down once again, swallowing against the burn in my throat as heavy breathing fills the room along with the unmistakable sound of someone masturbating.
A growl draws my attention back to the man, my eyes following him as he circles to the end of the bed, more than likely another prompt on the screen hanging across the room.
I know this guy isn’t a monster. Well, I’d gamble he isn’t a monster in the way they’re making him into one, but he’s still going to be one of the many monsters in my life.
I lift my leg, ready to kick him in the face as he climbs on the bed, but he clamps his palm against my shin. I freeze, noting the tremble in his touch. He’s weak, and with the extent of his injuries, it’s expected. I could probably kick him off if I really tried, but there’s a pleading in his eyes I just can’t get past. It’s an apology and a bid for forgiveness all in one.
His throat works on a swallow, telling me there’s a very real chance he’s trying not to gag as hard as I am.
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I spit, but only jerk my leg a little, enough to let the client see the fight, but not enough to actually dislodge him.
His jaw clenches once again, telling me that he’s well aware that I’m not putting in the full effort. He doesn’t seem happy about it at all.
