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I panicked as he deftly fastened a velcro loop around each ankle and pulled tight, trapping me.
He smiled victoriously, pinning me to the bed with his eyes. Jesus, he’d make a great serial killer in one of those cheap slasher movies my fellow students at the American boarding school enjoyed watching. I’d never been able to understand why they enjoyed those ridiculous films so much. Didn’t they know enough horrors existed in the real world?
But, I guess horrors didn’t exist in their worlds the way they did in mine.
Emilio entered the room, his pace brisk and business-like. Another guy followed behind him, wearing a pair of surgical gloves, and my heart sank. I surveyed both of them with open revulsion, which Emilio greeted with a fuck-you smile and a wink. A wink? Was he trying to be funny?
‘She good?’ he asked Murphy.
Without warning, Murphy reached under my dress and stuck his finger right up inside me. I squealed a little louder than I’d like to admit and desperately tried to shimmy up the bed, away from his touch.
‘Tight,’ he said, slowly taking his hand away. I stared at the ceiling, more embarrassed than I had ever been in my life, as he wiped his finger on the hem of my dress.
Emilio cocked his head to the side, a look of surprise on his face. ‘Virgin?’
Murphy shook his head. ‘Just tight.’
Emilio gestured for Murphy to step aside. As Murphy stepped back, the guy who’d entered behind Emilio, a Mexican man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, rolled a stool over and perched himself right between my open legs.
God. Could it get any worse?
‘Right, cholita,’ Emilio said, placing a hand on one of my knees. I looked at it like it was a dead cockroach, but he didn’t move it away. I winced as the doctor at the foot of my bed of horrors rummaged for something on the table of torture instruments.
‘Time to make sure you aren’t carrying any nasty diseases. Or secret pregnancies. We’ve had both of those come through these doors before.’
Murphy’s mouth twitched at the mention of secret pregnancies, and I glowered at him.
‘Do you have to make it so . . . uncivilised?’ I asked through gritted teeth.
Emilio squeezed my knee with the same affection one might squeeze their daughter’s knee, and I suppressed the urge to leap up and kill him with my bare hands. Mostly because that wouldn’t have worked and I’d have earned a black eye for my efforts.
‘Of course,’ he said, and in that moment I realised just how much pleasure he took in my misery. Feasting on my sorrow lit him up from within. I blinked to stop tears from welling up in my eyes, and he tutted at me.
‘Cholita. Come on!’ he chided. ‘Did you really think I’d put you to work as a maid? Washing dishes, scrubbing floors? You need to suffer so your father suffers.’
‘My father can’t see if I’m suffering or not,’ I retorted. ‘He’s in Colombia.’
Murphy shifted on his feet, an amused look passing over his face. I groaned. ‘Unless someone is telling him?’ I glared at Murphy.
‘Enough!’ Emilio demanded. ‘Murphy, tell the little bitch what comes next and when the auction is. And put some shit on her cuts to make them fade faster.’
He strode out of the room without turning back, his words slicing into my soul. What comes next. Auction.
Murphy popped a stick of gum in his mouth and started chewing loudly. As he snapped the gum between his teeth, I smelled the sickly sweet tang of fake strawberries in the air.
I tore my eyes from Murphy as the guy between my legs shoved something up and inside me that felt like a big, hard plastic dick. ‘What the fuck?’ I yelled.
The doctor looked to Murphy with raised eyebrows, pausing momentarily.
‘It’s a speculum,’ Murphy said in disbelief, from his spot right next to the bed. ‘I’m sure your dead boyfriend’s dick was bigger than that. Quit complaining.’
Your dead boyfriend. That slammed into me like a freight train and knocked the wind from my lungs. Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d balled my fist up and swung as hard as I could.
Murphy wasn’t taken off guard this time, like he had been when I’d scratched his face in the car on the way to Emilio’s hotel. He parried the blow easily, grabbing hold of both of my wrists and slamming me back onto the bed.
‘You see that scalpel over there,’ he snarled, lifting his chin towards the tray the doctor had been fiddling with. ‘If you don’t stay still, I will take it and I will put it where the sun don’t shine. Do you want to be fucked with the sharp end, sweetie? I am the one in charge here. Not you.’
‘Fuck you,’ I spat. ‘You think you’ve got power? You’ve got nothing. Untie me and then see if you can stop me from kicking your ass.’
