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‘Shut up, bitch,’ Emilio said, clearly annoyed that I was speaking.
‘Whatever, old man,’ I replied.
He paused, turning slowly.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said, whatever,’ I repeated. ‘I might have offered myself up as a trade for my family’s lives. Doesn’t mean I need to enjoy it.’
He chuckled, the rage still evident in the way his neck tensed. ‘You’d be a sick little whore if you did enjoy it here.’
‘You’re an asshole,’ I answered.
I was rewarded with a punch to the jaw. Seemed his rage overrode his desire not to mark me. It fucking hurt, too, propelling me backwards. I fell against the bed in a pile of limbs, covering my face with my hands.
‘Wait,’ I said, panting a little. ‘So you get to call me bitch and whore, but I don’t get to call you what I want? That’s hardly fair.’
His smile vanished and he spat the toothpick out, stalking towards me.
‘Life isn’t fair,’ he said emphatically. ‘If life were fair, your stupid father wouldn’t have LOST MY FUCKING COCAINE!’
His tone terrified me, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes as Emilio’s spittle landed on my cheek.
My reaction seemed to calm the beast, to satisfy him. He sucked in a breath and let his shoulders drop, as if composing himself.
‘My name is Emilio,’ he breathed, his gold tooth glinting in the harsh light of the bare bulb above us. ‘But you will call me Master.’
Before I could protest or cry or make some smartass joke, before I could even decide how to react, he reached around and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me from the bed and slamming me forcefully to the ground. The damp concrete knocked the air from my lungs, and I gasped.
Crack!
He kicked me in the ribs, forcefully enough for me to hear a snap as something broke. White-hot pain sang in my bones, reaching a brutal climax when my nerves relayed the searing message to my brain.
I thought I’d be braver. I thought I’d be able to take his torment, his violence, and smile at him with blood-smeared teeth. But I wasn’t brave. I was scared.
I broke.
I opened my mouth, and screamed.
He left the room after that. I curled into an awkward ball, not too tight, because my ribs were screaming in agony, but as tight as I could, because it was freezing in the room.
Time stretched out, as my stomach rumbled and my ribs protested their pain.
Hunger. Pain. Sadness. Despair. They all threw a party inside me, and all I wanted was for them to go away, to give me some peace for a few brief moments. All I wanted was for the pain to go away.
I recoiled as I saw a boot appear in my vision.
‘Hey,’ the voice that belonged to the boot soothed. Dornan. ‘It’s okay. I’ll save my beating for tomorrow.’
I frowned, looking up at him as he knelt beside me; he was smiling and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
‘I think my ribs are broken,’ I wheezed.
He nodded. ‘Probably. I heard something snap.’
I moaned, trying to roll over. I eventually managed to get to my knees, and he helped me to my feet like I was as light as a feather.
I sat on the edge of the bed gingerly, trying not to move anything. Each time I took in a breath, white-hot pain radiated from a spot underneath my heart. He broke my ribs! Beneath the fog of pain, I was furious. Wasn’t taking me from my family enough? Wasn’t killing my boyfriend enough? Wasn’t forcing me to swallow those fake cocaine capsules enough?
