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This is how I die…with the feeling of their filth inside my body…
Scar-eyebrow pumps his fingers inside me, and I’m so dry it hurts. I swallow my sobs through each painful pump of his digits. I won’t beg, I won’t…
“Nothing to say, whore?” Scar-eyebrow sneers as he grabs my breast in his big sweaty paw and twists it until I scream.
“We’re going to make a little movie right now. Starring you. Being double-teamed by us,” Broken-nose says. He licks my ear with his wet, sloppy tongue, and laughs when I jerk my head away from him. He starts to drag me from the room, and I can’t stop myself from kicking and writhing in his arms. Not a movie. Strangers will see me naked. They’ll look at my body. The movie will never go away; everyone will see me. My throat closes in panic.No, no, no…
As I’m dragged down a hallway, I realize I’m wailing aloud. I broke. I’m so weak, so pathetic…Why can’t I be like the victims in the movies who are pushed too far and turn superhuman? I’m kicking and thrashing, so why can’t I get these men off me?
I hate Bastien so much…
He did this. He handed me over to these vile men to do whatever they wanted to me. To ruin me, mind, body, and soul.
My eyes slam shut, and I will my mind to shut down. To go to another place. Somewhere safe. Somewhere away from this place. I try to recall my fondest memory from childhood. Anything to hold on to, but I’m met with a black hole of nothing.
Maybe Bastien is doing me a favor after all. Nobody loves me. They never have. Not even my own mother can stomach my presence.
I hear a loud explosion, and my eyes fly open in time to see the lights go out.
Shouts ring out, and more explosions.
“What the fuck?” Broken-nose drops me. Mad with panic. “The fuck is happening?”
I scrabble for his gun and pull it from the holster. He grabs my arm in the dark, but it’s the arm that’s not holding the gun. I shove the barrel against his crotch and squeeze the trigger. The bang is tremendously loud, and I’m splattered by blood and chunks of flesh. He screams in a pitch so high that it splits my ears.
Bullets start flying, and I drop to the floor and crawl. My ears are ringing from the gunshot, but I know I’m not safe out here in the open. My hands are outstretched in an attempt to feel my way around. I feel strong arms grabbing me, and somebody hauls me to my feet.
Bastien.
I can tell, even in the dark. He drags me down a hallway, through a door, and then I’m outside, gulping for air. I’m alive, I’m free! I’m still crying, but with relief now.
You’re not safe.I’m still in the arms of a monster.
I glance behind me and get a blurry impression of a nondescript, squat brick house surround by scrubby trees. Before I can protest, I’m being shoved into the back of a van, and Bastien’s leaping in with me. The van drives off with a screech, and I’m thrown into Bastien’s arms.
He settles me onto a bench in the back and pulls a towel out of a bag that’s resting on the floor. He starts frantically scrubbing me. Instinctively, I try to cover up my nakedness, but it’s futile, and I’d much rather have the gore cleaned off than hide from a man who’s already seen every inch of me.
“Did they hurt you?” he demands. “Are you bleeding or is that someone else’s blood? I don’t see any wounds on you.”
He stares at me, waiting for an answer, but I don’t speak. I can’t. I’m in shock.
“Answer me,” he barks. “Did they hurt you?”
That jars me out of my daze, and I elbow him hard in the face in response. My elbow bounces off his cheekbone, and he grunts in anger as he pulls back. “What the fuck was that for?” he snaps.
“Didtheyhurt me?” I scream at him, and I rain blows down on his face. He swats them aside easily. “Did you ask me if someone hurt me? Are you kidding me? You of all people are asking me that?”
He slides back on the seat, out of my reach, and thinks about what I’ve said for a moment. A few minutes later, he starts to laugh. He reaches down into the bag on the floor, pulls out a bottle of water and a T-shirt, and hands them to me. I dump the water on myself to rinse off the rest of the blood and then pull the T-shirt on. It’s man-sized, hanging down to my thighs. As soon as I’m covered, it dawns on me how damn thirsty I am. I’m wishing I would’ve thought twice about wasting it on trying to clean myself up. What’s the use. Wherever he’s taking me, I’m sure to find myself right back to grime. Back to yet another prison, to be tortured by him.
I start to laugh too, but it’s a deranged sound. Something that tells of my near mental break. I’m laughing and crying at the same time. I’m falling apart, and it’s the last thing I want to do in front of this man. I take a deep breath and will myself to calm down.
I won’t allow Bastien to take anything more from me. I still have the upper hand. If he wants his family to remain unscathed, he’ll play by my rules.
“You are going to take me back to my house so I can get my suitcase,” I tell him. “And then I’m leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Camille.” His voice is strong, but not harsh like I’d expect.
It irritates me.
