by J. L. Beck
She started to stir, her body moving just enough to tell me that she was waking. Her luscious cheeks pushed harder against my cock, causing a low groan to fall from my lips. Her eyes popped open, the expression on her face was anything less than horror.
I was an asshole.
Chapter Seven
Isabella
I could feel him. Every single inch of his body was plastered against my own. Fear began to fill my veins. I had never allowed a man to be this close to me, so why was I doing so now?
I pulled away from his body, the warmth leaving me, the coldness returning as a tinge of sadness masked the fear. I had no reason to feel any emotions toward him, yet I did. I rolled off the side of the bed, pushing from it as fast as I could.
“It’s okay, Izzy. I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He spoke softly, his voice hoarse with sleep. His face was brighter than normal, and he even had a sign of happiness in his eyes, but that didn’t help to unthaw me. I was scared—more than that, I was afraid of what I was feeling inside of me. The dream I had last night was one I had many times before. It pushed me to the brink of destruction, centering on my first few nights in the trade. Tremors of fear racked my body throughout the night as I relived the terror in my dreams.
“It’s not okay. You were…” My face started to grow red, embarrassment taking over.
Jared rolled his eyes and had I not been startled from the bed, maybe I would’ve laughed. “I wasn’t doing anything. I heard you last night. You were screaming. I didn’t know what to do, but something told me to check on you.” I could hear the sincerity in his voice. Nothing on his face said he was lying, yet here I stood afraid to move. Afraid that if I did, I would be questioned about that single movement.
“I…” I stumbled over my words unable to get them out properly, my hands wringing together in front of me. We had gone from enemies to two people sharing the same bed overnight. It felt perfect and wrong all at the same time.
“You what? I wasn’t going to do anything to you…” He paused, his voice bordering on angry. “I mean if you’re worried about this…” He pointed to his penis and I about choked. I had touched one, even been told to suck on one, but I was afraid of it. Afraid of what it meant, of what it did, and what it would cause the other women who were in the trades with me.
“It was against my skin…” I paused briefly. “My butt.” I was startled at the sound of my own voice. Had I spoken that out loud?
Recognition formed on Jared’s face as if he understood what I was getting at, outrage and dejection seeping into his features.
“I would never, and I do mean never, force myself on you or any woman. Morning wood is something that is extremely common for men of all ages. It doesn’t mean that we’re attracted to you, and it doesn’t give us the right to take what we want.” He didn’t look at me as if I was an object for his pleasure. Instead, he watched me most likely wondering if I would have a mental breakdown right this second.
What he didn’t realize was his words calmed me. He cared, even if he said he didn’t and even if I was afraid of what was forming between us I wanted to welcome it with open arms. I needed something good in my life. Something pure, something worth living for.
“So you weren’t going to do anything?” I questioned just to make sure, encouraging myself to remember that Jared wasn’t any of those men I had spent time with while in the trades.
I could tell he was upset by my question as he pushed from the bed. His body filled with aggression and tension. He stretched before me causing parts of my own body to react.
“Of course, I wasn’t going to do anything. You were sleeping, for fuck’s sake. I don’t get off on taking advantage of women.” He stepped into my space, forcing my back against the wall. Fear filled my belly, but so did something else. The feeling of being loved and wanted.
“If I wanted you, you would know it. And I most definitely wouldn’t have to take you unwillingly,” he said smugly, his eyes lingering on my lips. I was just about to say something when he took a step back and pushed past me to get out of the room. I stood there attempting to catch my labored breaths. Jared caused butterflies to form in my stomach, but he also caused me to feel the unknowingness of being with a man. The feeling was foreign but exhilarating all at the same time.
I waited until I heard the slam of his bedroom door before I closed the door to my room and settled back into my bed. The walls would have to be enough of a barrier for now. I held myself together, my arms wrapped tightly around my midsection. My mind drifted back in time to that dream when I thought the end was near. I needed something, anything to keep my thoughts off the present, even if it meant I had to head back toward my past.
Shifting into an upward position, I pulled my knees into my chest and pushed my hair over my shoulder so I could weave my fingers through it. I did this to stay calm. It had become a calming technique for me to keep my mind in the right place.
“Secure all the girls and place them on the right side of the room. I need to take photos of them to send to the buyers.” I knew the voice like I knew what light against my skin felt like.
A meaty hand clamped onto my arm, pulling me to my dirt covered feet. My clothes were tattered and worn, my shoes and all possessions gone. I had nothing but my thoughts here and some of us didn’t even have those.
The man’s hand gripped me hard. His fingers dug into my dirty flesh until I knew there would be bruises. They always loved to rough us up and beat on us, making sure the injuries were far and few between and always out of sight.
No one would buy you if you were damaged. Being bought was your one and only chance at freedom. You’d be a fool not to want that.
“Her,” someone said to my right as I was slammed into the unforgiving ground, my knees giving way. It had been days since I last had food or clean water to drink. They were depriving all of us of the things we needed simply because one girl refused to willingly give her body to one of the guards.
“Smile pretty for the camera, bitch.” I could smell his rancid breath even through the bag that covered my face. They didn’t just want pictures of our faces. They had already gotten those, now they were taking pictures of our bodies. A hand was placed firmly on my shoulder keeping me in line, forcing me to kneel straight. My knees dug deeper into the dirt, rocks embedding themselves in my skin causing pain to radiate throughout my body. Tears formed in my eyes, but I squeezed my lids shut, telling myself someday I would get out of here. I wouldn’t allow myself to die here like the others before me.
“Move her and bring the next one in,” someone new said as the hand on my shoulder eased up, moving the pain to another part of my body. The hand reached into my hair, gripping tightly as he pulled me to my feet. I forced the scream that desperately wanted to escape my lips, to stay deep inside of me.
Stay strong, Izzy, I told myself.
Allowing them to see your fear, allowed them to know they had some type of control over you. If they could scare you, they could do anything.
“I want her, boss,” a man growled into my ear, his hand way too close to touching my breast. I imagined myself screaming, someone hearing my pleas and God granting me an end to this insanity.
“You may touch her above the clothes only.” I wanted to beg, to tell him no but kept silent, cursing them in every way I could inside of my own mind.
Remember you have your thoughts. I repeated the words over and over again in my mind, thinking if I repeated them enough it would make it easier for me to believe. It would give me hope knowing they couldn’t touch my thoughts.
The man pawing at my breasts fondled them with both hands as I stood still, feeling disgusted in more than one way. Tears fell from my eyes, and I was thankful the bag was in place. I didn’t want them to see my weakness. Didn’t want them to know what they were doing really hurt me.
Minutes seemed to pass as agony took over.
One hand stayed against my breast while the other headed south. I could hear his heavy pa
nts, his breaths against my skin.
“I will have you. This sweet, untouched pussy will be mine someday…” he whispered into my ear. My stomach revolted as acid threatened to spew from my throat. My insides curled as I tried not to recoil from his touch.
His fingers roughly rubbed against the material of my panties that covered my most intimate part. “Please stop…” I cried out softly, praying he would. Even if it were only for a second. I just wanted one person to show me they were still human and that all hope wasn’t completely lost.
A harsh laughter filled the air. “You’re begging me to stop now, but very, very soon, when you’re mine, you will be begging me for more.”
His hand that was against my breast moved to my chin gripping it tightly. My teeth ground together as my jaw clamped shut and fear coated my insides. I felt trapped, wanting to struggle against his hold, but at the same time, not wanting to give him a reason to knock me below his feet.
“Do you understand that this cunt will be mine? You’re mine, Isabella.” He hissed my name. Seconds passed with no interaction, all that could be heard was the furious beating of my heart and his heavy breaths against my cheek.
With a shove, he released me, and I fell to the hard ground. I had never been more relieved in my life to be shoved away, thrown away like yesterday’s garbage. I didn’t want any of the other girls to have to take punishment for my actions or my place for the things I refused to give to these people, but when it came down to surviving, I would do anything that I could.
I shuffled against the dirt floor and into a corner, unsure where exactly I was in the cell. I needed to find my way back to my cot. I was on the verge of collapsing on the floor when I heard the screams of one of the other girls.
Her cries were muffled as if she were far away. “Stop doing this to me. Stop hurting me,” she pleaded. She didn’t understand that pleading did her no good. They didn’t care if they hurt us. Their job was to break us down into nothing, making us soulless individuals who would do anything they wanted. They didn’t want women—they wanted puppets.
They wanted us weak, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, as well. I continued to crawl on the floor until I came to the wall. My fingers digging into the ground beneath me, begging for a way out as if it would magically appear before me.
“You will learn this is how we do things here. Do you understand me? Nod your head yes if you do.” The woman cried out in pain as the sound of a whip hitting flesh filled the air.
My heart ached, breaking in two knowing the pain she was enduring. They had been more than nice to me. I was dirty and felt upon, but I had never been a victim of their rage or felt the bite of the leather against my flesh.
“You will speak only when spoken to. You will follow these rules or you will face the consequences.” Another slap of the whip against her skin. Tears fell from my eyes for the pain she was receiving.
It was then I vowed to break free of this place, even if it got me killed.
Chapter Eight
Jared
I hated myself for leaving her there like that, even more for cornering her and making her feel like a trapped animal. I knew what she had gone through. I had been briefed on it by Zerro, but nothing made it more real than seeing the fear of what I could do to her reflected in her own eyes. I gripped at my hair, trying to find a reason for what I had done.
You’re an idiot.
I wanted to laugh at myself, out loud like a crazy ass person just so others could see me for who I really was. I wasn’t the good guy. I wasn’t stable or happy. I had none of the things going for me that Zerro or Devon had. I was drowning helplessly in the deep end with no escape in sight.
You’re not good enough for her.
My nails dug into my palms as I stared at myself in the mirror. I hated the person I had become but failed to do anything to fix it. I had allowed the simmering rage, agony, and hopelessness to carry me away from all those that I loved.
They don’t love you, I told myself.
Comforting her was wrong, wanting her even worse, but now I felt starved as if she had been my first fresh bite of food in years. I didn’t need to be pulling Isabella into my shitstorm called life. She had her own problems, problems that I would never be able to handle. She couldn’t handle me. Today showed me just that, yet here I was trying to grasp at straws for something. Anything really to keep going to her, to keep her here. I splashed water on my face thinking that it would help wake me up from my asshole state, but it did nothing.
You’re not her hero. You’re her darkness. You will break her and hurt her more than she already is. Why can you not see that you’re her destruction, her damnation, her downfall?
Staring in the mirror at the man who was not worthy of someone like Isabella, I made a vow to distance myself, to protect her when needed, but I would never allow myself to get close to her like that again. To feel her warmth against my coldness. To feel the softness of her curves against my hardness. Her shallow breaths would now only be a memory.
I slammed my fist on the countertop, forcing the words inside my head to stick. They had to—it would be the only thing saving her from me. From there I showered, dressed, and made my way out to the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee met my nostrils.
I rounded the corner, my eyes meeting hers immediately. The look in them were neutral but had an amused undertone. I felt a pang of guilt because I was about to become a bigger asshole than I had previously been, and I knew more than anything she didn’t deserve to be treated this way.
“I made coffee.” She sounded happy about such a small feat and I smiled in return, acting as if I was unaware of my actions.
“I see that. Thank you.” My voice remained the same, the words slipping out as I prepared myself a cup. I needed to clear the air and to remind her that what had happened this morning wasn’t going to ever happen again.
We all had to fight our own demons—even as tempting as it was to help one another through them.
“Thanks for—” She seemed to stop thinking about what it was she wanted to say next. “Being there for me last night even if I wasn’t aware of it. I know you know some of what I went through, but sometimes, the nightmares get out of control…” She continued on, her voice soft and sweet. I clenched my fist gripping the coffee mug in my hand. I was so consumed with her, with the way her lips moved, and how her voice sounded, I failed to notice the coffee in my cup as it sloshed over the edge. I yelped out as the scolding hot coffee fell against my skin.
“Fuck,” I cursed, running to the sink to run some cold water over the burnt flesh.
“Oh, my goodness. Are you okay?” She purred against me, her body rubbing against my side as she attempted to examine my hand. I hated what I was about to do but knew I needed to. After all, it was better this way.
“I’m fine,” I said coldly, pulling myself from her grip, which in turn caused her to cower back a step. I could see the fear and hesitation in her eyes as she realized what I had said. I had just doused her pleasant mood with cold water. I had ruined her day with my shit behavior.
“I was just checking—” She looked slightly startled that she had said something.
“I know what you’re doing,” I growled, pulling away from the sink. I needed to get away from her, away from all of this. I was stifled, feeling buried underneath it all. The desperate need to confess my secrets to her was smothering me like a thick fog of smoke.
“Did I do something?” Her voice sounded somber as I allowed myself one last look. I could see the reflection of unhappiness shining back at me. I had hurt her. I had cut the ties she had with me, causing a suffering on both sides.
“Yes, you did,” I lied, continuing on. “Stay away from me and there won’t be a problem. I was wrong to try to help you through your nightmare. It won’t happen again.” I made myself sound angry as I scowled at her. If she could tell that I was lying, she wasn’t saying anything. Instead, she took a couple more unnerving step
s back until she hit the island. I caught the look of shame right as she turned on her heels and headed for her bedroom.
I wanted to feel bad, and I did maybe just a little bit, but I knew better than anyone that if I allowed her in there would be no letting her go. This was a job, a favor to Zerro, a temporary arrangement. Plus I couldn’t do this to her or to myself.
I pushed off the granite countertop reaching into my pocket. I needed out and the only way to get out was to take a job. I gritted my teeth. I would have to call Bree and Tegan. I would have to beg for them to come and look out for her while I got my shit together.
You’re doing the right thing.
The voice in my head was a whisper, but I knew it was right. Logging into the driving system, I picked a route for an hours’ time.
I hesitated with my thumb in the air over my sister’s name. It had been weeks since I last spoke to her since I last called her. I was a dick and a super shitty brother. Picking my balls up off the floor, I pushed the button and waited for her to send me to voicemail. I deserved it.
“Holy shit. Has hell actually frozen over?” she said into the phone, answering on the second ring. Clearly, I was wrong when it came to knowing if she was mad or not.
“I know I should be calling you for something else, maybe even to say hi or ask how Gia is doing, but I’m not. I need a favor from you and Tegan.” I paused, waiting to see how she would respond to me
“Oh, okay. What’s going on?” Concern filled her voice. I tried to tell myself she didn’t care, and that it was all a part of my imagination, but I knew that was a lie. No one cared as much as Bree did.
“I’m sure Zerro told you that I’m babysitting. I have Isabella here, and I need some time away if you know what I mean.” I paused midsentence, wondering how what I had said made me look into my sister’s eyes.