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The only part that Chris could still move was his legs, and they thrashed around on the mattress with no real impact. Dima finally eased up the pressure, allowing Chris to breathe. He sucked in as much air as he could.
“You’re breathing too much. Don’t be a greedy girl.” Dima pressed down again, not even needing to use force.
Chris’s vision filled with bright flickering lights, the fire in his lungs worse than before. A sharp pain pierced through his skull from lack of oxygen. Time and time again, Dima cut off his air supply, just to bring it back for a few seconds. Chris had stopped thrashing as time went on, his body too painful and spent. Sweat covered his body, sticking the dress to his skin and itching underneath the wig. When he began to pass out, Dima slapped him. “Stay awake so I know if you’re alive or dead.”
“Please stop.”
“But we’re having so much fun!” He pulled up the edges of Chris’s lips into a smile. “See? You’re happy.”
It dawned on Chris that he might not make it out alive. Risking his life because of Mickey’s blackmail felt ridiculous in hindsight. He wasn’t going to keep his family if he was dead.
Right when Dima began to press down again, the bedroom door opened.
“What’s going on?”
Chris forced his head to move until he saw Jay’s blurry shape standing by the entrance.
Dima’s body tensed. “We’re just playing.”
Jay scanned Chris’s face, who didn’t have it in him to speak.
“I’ll be done soon,” Dima said, trying to keep his voice light. He slowly moved his hands from Chris’s neck.
Jay took a step inside. “Get up.”
“What?”
“Get away from him, Babushka. Fun’s over.Out!”
Dima tensed even more. Whether or not he could take on Jay wasn’t clear, but Jay was a guest—not a toy.
With a grunt, Dima got up and straightened his shirt. He glanced down at Chris and winked. “Was fun. See you around.”
He walked away whistling to himself, and Jay slammed the door behind him.
Chris shut his eyes and tried to move his feet and fingers, all numb from lack of oxygen.
Jay sat on the bed and pulled off the wig, allowing Chris’s sweaty scalp to breathe. “You okay?”
Chris turned with his back to Jay, his knees to his chest. His body began to shake when the first sob snuck out. He hated crying because tears never solved anything, but he wasn’t able to fight his body’s weakness.
“It’s over,” Jay said. “I hid the recording equipment. We can get the hell out of here.”
“I hate this.” It wasn’t just Dima’s torture, but the familiar feeling of vulnerability and helplessness. His life, stable until recently, had once more become the property of others.
“It’s over,” Jay sternly said. “Let it go.”
Chris snorted, his eyes still shut with tears caught in his eyelashes. “It’s not over. It never is. There are always more monsters.”
Jay remained silent, giving Chris time to collect himself.
I’m a grown-ass man crying in a torn dress.
“Let’s make a deal,” Jay said. “You tell me whenever a monster gives you a hard time, and I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m not a child, and I don’t need a protector.”
“A smart man knows when to accept help.”
