by Lola StVil
The first part at least was true. He nodded his head.
“Yes, some of the clientele here are awful people. But I’m not like them.”
Clientele? What the hell was he talking about?
“Where am I?” I asked again.
“We’re not meant to talk about it. But I guess it can’t hurt. It’s not like you’re going anywhere. It’s a place they call the Meat Market. It’s an awful name for it I know but…”
He was still talking, but my mind was reeling. The Meat Market? As in the pedophile ring Kane had told me about? But how the hell did I end up here?
“I don’t understand. How did I get here?” I said.
“Enough talking now,” the man said.
He took a couple of steps back from me and looked me up and down. There was a hungry look in his eyes that made me feel sick, and I swallowed hard. The man mistook my reaction for nerves.
“Don’t be afraid. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
He opened his trousers and pushed them down. His underwear followed, and it was immediately clear to me just how happy he was to be looking at me. I resisted the urge to try to cover myself with my free hand. If I made him angry, he might tie me even tighter out of spite.
He kicked his trousers and underwear off over his shoes. There should have been something humorous about a middle-aged man wearing a button-up shirt, a tie, socks, dress shoes, and nothing else but a boner, but there was nothing funny about it.
He came back towards me and trailed his fingers over the insides of my thighs. I managed to turn the whimper of fear that escaped me into a moan of pleasure, and he grinned.
“You sure are ready for me, aren’t you?” he said.
That’s when I knew. He wasn’t going to go over to the bench and pleasure himself. He was going to rape me. My mind went blank, and I felt my mouth fall open slackly. The man’s fingers were creeping higher, and I knew this was the moment to use my powers. It was far from ideal, but I wasn’t just going to sit there and let him violate me.
I blasted out with the bit of power I had. My restraints broke, and I jumped to my feet.
“What the…?” the man said.
I kicked out, catching him in the groin, and he went down, clutching himself and wheezing. The noise of him falling brought men in guards’ uniforms running into my cell. I had used up the bit of power I had, but I wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. That was until I saw the guns in their hands.
I slowly raised my hands above my head. Two guards kept their guns trained on me while the other two went to the fallen man. He looked miserable now, his hands trying to hide his modesty, which had shrunk to the size of a lipstick.
“What happened? Why did you untie her?” one of the guards demanded.
The man composed himself and reached for his clothes. He pulled them back on and got to his feet. He regarded the guard with a stern expression.
“I think you’ll find I’m the client here. I suggest you watch your tone,” he said.
“The rule with this one was bench only!” the guard yelled angrily. “She was donated for special play later.”
He stormed out of the room.
“Back in the chair,” one of the guards ordered, pointing to the chair with his gun.
I shook my head, and he stepped closer.
“It wasn’t a request,” he said.
He reached out and punched me in the stomach, and I fell to my knees, clutching my stomach and wheezing for breath. The guard lifted his foot, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow.
“Stop,” a voice shouted, and I dared to open my eyes. “You know the rules. Don’t mark her. The buyer won’t be happy.”
Buyer? I didn’t have time to think about it as they began working on me.
The no mark rule did nothing to stop them from inflicting pain on me like I’ve never known. They pinched my skin, twisting it and pulling at it. They hit me hard enough to smart but not hard enough to leave a bruise. One of them disappeared, and I thought I was getting a reprieve, but when he returned, I felt the horror growing inside of me.
He carried four dripping wet towels. He handed them out to the guards, and they took turns rolling the towels up and whipping them off me. By the time they’d exhausted themselves, I was curled up on the ground in the fetal position, my arms locked around my knees and my eyes staring vacantly ahead of me.
I was vaguely aware on some level that at some point through the beating, I’d peed myself, but I wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t care anymore.
One of them threw a rolled-up ball of material at me.
“Put those on,” he demanded.
I realized the ball was clothes. A schoolgirl skirt and tight tank top.
“Shouldn’t we restrain her again?” one of them asked.
“No. She’s broken. Look at her,” said another.
The door slammed shut, and I was alone. I lay that way for a long time, crying silent tears, the cold from the ground seeping into me. Eventually, I dragged myself up. I put the clothes on. Not because they demanded it, but because I felt less vulnerable.
I crawled to the corner and sat there. I didn’t want to sit back on the chair that had been my prison. And I certainly wasn’t going to sit on the bench.
I heard snippets of conversation through my cell door. I learned I was too old to stay there long term and had been sold. And that I would soon be collected, but not before the highest bidder got his ride.
The guard’s words kept coming back to me. Was I broken? I think maybe I was. I gave up on escape completely, and I sat and awaited my fate.
I don’t know how long I sat there feeling sorry for myself, but slowly, the fear turned to anger. Anger at whoever had brought me there. Anger at the men who thought this was okay. And anger at the world that such a place was allowed to exist.
I began to formulate a plan as I felt my powers coming back again. I wouldn’t try to escape this time. I would wait until I was strong enough and I would use my powers to end my own life.
I heard the guards outside of my cell discussing my pickup time. They said it would be in a couple of hours. I had no concept of time, but I knew my powers were almost back and I hoped the time I did have would be enough to end this before I was collected.
I kind of liked the idea of my last act of rebellion causing some trouble for these men, because I was sure their buyer wouldn’t be happy when he came to collect his new toy and found her dead.
I heard a noise in the corridor outside sometime later. I could hear them. They were kicking my cell door. These weren’t guards. They must be the men who pleasured themselves. They were mad at me for some reason, and they were coming to hurt me. They were working themselves into a frenzy kicking at the door, and I knew there were too many of them. I’d never take them all—especially if they had the guns like the others.
I began to hallucinate then, and my plan was forgotten. I heard a noise in the corner of my cell, and I turned, and Sadie was there. I stepped towards her, and she was gone. Another noise and Quinn was stalking towards me. Then she was gone. Another flash of movement and Pest was there, pointing at me, laughing, mocking me because I couldn’t think my way out.
I felt my mind breaking, and all I wanted was Kane. I screamed out for him, begging him to help me. I was so far gone, I heard him calling back to me. The men must have heard him too because they doubled their efforts and the door was down.
It was Kane standing there, but it couldn’t be the real Kane. I was seeing things again.
I panicked, and my plan went out of my mind, and I reached out and fired blindly into him. He didn’t disappear like I expected him to. He was real. But it couldn’t be Kane. He wouldn’t come here. Not after what they did to him.
He stalked towards me, and I flinched away from him. Was that a hurt look on his face? What did he expect? He was here to hurt me. And then he reached out and wrapped his arms around me.
He whispered in my ear, telling me it was okay, that he love
d me. And I knew then it was Kane. My Kane. He hadn’t abandoned me to my fate. He had come for me.
I felt a rush of emotion. Relief that it was over. Fear that he would somehow be snatched back away from me. And utter despair that I had hurt him.
I am working myself back up into a state, and I reach out and touch Kane. Touching him calms me, grounds me. He mutters something in his sleep and moves closer to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I know I’ll be okay because I have him to get me through it.
I smile when I think of how much he has changed. I am so pleased he’s finally forgiven Sadie. After she woke up, they had a long talk, and I think they’ll be just fine. It’ll take time, but now Kane has let her in, they can have the relationship Kane’s always deserved.
I have changed too. I know what Kane means now when he says the Meat Market changed him. I was only there for a couple of days, and it’s changed me. I still don’t know exactly what happened or how I got there, but I know from what Kane said earlier that Talon was behind it.
I want to know the full story. Kane swore he’d tell me tomorrow after I’d eaten and slept. The Meat Market has woken up the darkness within me, and I won’t rest until Talon is dead.
I open my eyes, and I’m flooded with relief. I’m really back home. It wasn’t a dream. I’m here, and I’m safe. Kane and the team came for me.
Most of yesterday is still a blur, but it became clearer once Sadie woke up and the danger was over. Kane insisted I have a hot meal. I had a very long, very hot shower first and then I ate. And ate. And ate.
I was starting to feel a bit normal by the time we came to bed. I felt safe knowing Kane was beside me. He hugged me tightly until I pretended to fall asleep so he could sleep. I didn’t think I would sleep at all, but I guess I must have dozed off at some point.
I’m alone now, and I sit up and yawn and stretch. The door opens, and Kane comes back in carrying a tray loaded with coffee, toast, and a mound of bacon.
“I’m not an invalid you know,” I laugh as he puts it down on my knee.
“I just thought you might be hungry,” he says.
He slips back into bed beside me as I reach for a slice of toast. We eat in silence for a while. I know I have to ask him about the thing that’s going through my mind, but I’m afraid of what his reaction will be.
I look at him, and he turns towards me. I look away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught staring. He laughs.
“Don’t be shy. You can admire my dashing good looks anytime you want.”
I give a half smile, and he frowns slightly.
“What’s on your mind?” he says.
I shake my head. But I have to know.
“Are you disgusted by me now?”
“What the fuck? No. Why would you even think that?”
I refuse to meet his eye. I fiddle with the slice of toast I’m holding.
“Because you didn’t touch me last night. At all. Not even a kiss,” I say quietly.
“I was afraid to,” he says quietly.
“In case you caught something?”
“No,” he insists. “In case I saw fear in your eyes.”
I finally look at him.
“I could never be afraid of you,” I say. “I love you, Kane.”
“I know that. But after what was done to you... I don’t know. I guess I was afraid that me touching you would bring back the memories of what was done to you there and—”
I can’t listen anymore. I have to make him see that never in a million years would I compare his touch to anything that happened to me in that place. I lean towards him and kiss him, cutting him off mid-sentence.
I reach up and touch his cheek. He kisses me back, slow and gentle. I push the tray to one side and get up onto my knees, still kissing him. I hook one leg over him and sit on top of his legs. He runs his hands up and down my back, holding me tightly against him.
I feel safe and loved and so ready for him. I pull back long enough to remove the baggy T-shirt I’m wearing. His breath catches in his throat as he drinks in the sight of me.
“I was so scared I’d lost you forever,” he says.
I grin.
“I’m not that easy to get rid of,” I say.
I trail my hands down his chest. I scoot back a bit and reach down to touch lower. He’s as ready as I am.
“Atlas, if you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to stop myself,” he groans as I caress him.
“Good,” I say. I look him in the eye. “Make love to me, Kane.”
With a low moan of longing, he reaches for me and pulls me closer to him again, and as he rocks my world, I’m not thinking of anything but him.
We lie on our sides facing each other. I am still reeling from the explosive orgasm that ripped through me. Kane’s head is propped up on one elbow, and his other hand is placed on my hip.
“What you said earlier,” I say. “I…I wasn’t raped.”
I see the relief in his eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
I shrug. I don’t want to bring back awful memories for him, but I think he’s the only one who understands how I feel.
“I thought I was going to die there. I wanted to die there if the other option was to live there. They were selling me on to someone as like a sex slave or something—I don’t know.”
“Yeah. You’re too old for them to keep you there long.”
“I was naked. Tied down and gagged. And there was a stream of men. They watched me and pleasured themselves. I wanted to be brave, but I wasn’t. I was so scared of what they would do to me. I performed for them. I put on a show of trying to escape, and I let them see my fear. I have never felt such deep self-loathing, Kane. And I felt like I was betraying you. That I was cheating on you somehow.”
“Oh Disney,” he says. I can hear the pain in his voice. “That wasn’t a betrayal. That was keeping yourself alive and holding onto your sanity. I’m going to tell you something now, and I want you to really hear it. None of what happened in there was your fault. Do you understand me?”
I nod slowly although I’m not sure I do.
“Say it,” Kane says.
“I…it wasn’t my fault,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Louder,” Kane says.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Louder.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
I’m really shouting now, and suddenly I feel it deep inside of me. It wasn’t my fault. It was the dirty, sick perverts that run that place. It was the people who pay to abuse people. And it was Talon.
Kane sees the subtle shift in me as I repeat the words firmly. I’m not just saying them because he told me to now. I’m saying them because I actually believe them. I feel a wetness on my face, and I realize I am crying.
“Thank you, Kane. For saving me. And for making me realize this isn’t my fault. I was the victim here,” I say.
He leans in and kisses my forehead, then wipes my tears away. His touch makes me feel warm inside, but the thought of Talon brings another rush of feelings with it. Dark feelings that I don’t really like, but I embrace all the same. He deserves to die for what he did to me. Anyone who could do that to someone shouldn’t be allowed to live.
And he is the Keysu, I reason. It’s my duty to kill him. I casually ignore the fact I would never have killed Kane and that I wanted to save Quinn.
“Kane, what happened? How did I end up there?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re ready to hear this?” he asks.
I nod. I have to know what happened.
“I let you down. And I’m so sorry.”
“How did you let me down?” I frown.
“You were taken the night before Remy’s funeral. I went to Pest’s house. I should have been here,” he says.
I shake my head.
“No. I asked you to go so I could get my emotions straight for the funeral. How did it go, by the way?”
“Fine,” Kane says. “I should ha
ve insisted I stay. I should have slept on the couch or something so I was here, but you still had your space. Baby, please forgive me. I swear I will never leave you again.”
I shake my head.
“There’s nothing to forgive. Now please tell me what happened.”
“Talon took you. He gave you a mixture to knock you unconscious and temporarily take your powers. And then he used a Damler mask to cloak you so that we couldn’t use a locator spell to find you. He took you there to send a message to me. He admitted it. He wanted to do the darkest thing possible to bring me back to him.”
“I can’t believe you were ever friends with that loser. I mean all the evil aside, this guy is a demon who is having a temper tantrum because his friend isn’t giving him enough attention. I mean, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” I say.
Kane laughs quietly.
“When you put it that way, yeah it is. When he told me he’d used the Damler mask, he still didn’t tell me where you were. Only that you were alive.”
“What exactly is this Damler mask you keep talking about?” I ask.
“It’s a cloaking spell. It means that no locator spell will be able to find you. To break it, we needed the hair from the tail of a Black Unicorn, which is nowhere near as nice as it sounds. We had to go to the Isle of Shamala, a place I’m in no hurry to get back to, but that’s a story for another day. Just know this: I wasn’t the only one willing to do whatever it took to get you back.
“I mean, you already know what Sadie did, but you should know the team came with me to that island fully expecting to die.”
I smile.
“They’re a good group. I never thought I would have friends that close that we would die for each other, but that’s how I feel about them.”
Kane gives me a sad smile.
“I used to feel that way about Talon. I mean yes, he’s always done bad things, but so have I, and I got it, you know. But he’s gone way too far this time. When I found out where you were, I was ready to find Talon and tear him into tiny pieces. The only reason he’s still alive is because I heard your voice in my head telling me not to do it,” he says.