by B. B. Hamel
I force myself to smile at his disgusting joke. “Don’t worry, Anton. I find my methods are very effective.”
“Well. They say you’re very good.” He shrugs, exaggerating his movements. “How do you do it, anyway? You got some new torture we don’t know about?”
“Something like that,” I say, hedging.
“Okay, okay, I get it. You want to keep it a secret.” He laughs again, putting his arm around my shoulders. I want to break his wrist off. “Well, you have a good time, okay? Break that girl, do whatever you do, okay?”
“Of course,” I say.
“Okay then.” He releases me and walks away, heading in the direction the soldiers had gone.
I watch him disappear around the corner then release a breath. I feel disgusting, like I need a fucking shower. This whole place is infested with scum and spineless bastards but Anton is one of the worst.
I sigh and shake my head. Thousands of girls a year. That’s more than I thought. We were estimating six hundred, maybe seven, but a thousand? He must be sending some girls off to different countries if that’s the case. He could be lying, but I wasn’t so sure.
The compound is huge. He has the facilities to move that many girls. He has the infrastructure all over the place, too.
Rufus Nosek is right. His daughter is important, but she’s not the only girl that I’ll be saving by taking this place down. If only we can survive and get through this together, it’ll be worth it in the end.
I turn and go the other way, down a few halls, and into the kitchen. There I gather up a tray and put together a little dinner for Riley. Once it’s all set, I head out, skirting through the halls, and finally stopping outside of her cell.
I gently unlock it and open the door. Riley is lying on her bunk, clearly asleep. I place her food down on the floor next to her and then stand in the doorway, watching her.
I should wake her and make her eat, but I don’t have the heart to do it.
Let her sleep. Soon I’m going to have to push her training and start it for real. She deserves a little rest before we get started for real. Let her sleep and maybe have good dreams.
The next time I see her, I won’t be taking it easy. She’ll submit and she’ll break, or else I might not be able to keep her alive.
7
Riley
I wake up slowly, blinking until I come to consciousness. I can’t remember any dreams I had, but I’m sweating like I had a nightmare. The tiny window has light streaming in through it, and so I sit up and look around my cell.
On the ground next to me is a tray with some food on it. I reach down and touch a piece of bread, but it’s cold. I wonder who brought it and how I didn’t wake up when they came in. I pick up a glass of water and drink it down gratefully, surprised at how thirsty I am.
For some stupid reason, I was hoping that it was all a dream. I was hoping that I’d wake up to an empty bedroom, maybe a little hungover from drinking too much at the club. But it’s not a dream, not at all.
I’m a prisoner. And Logan wants to turn me into a sex slave. I don’t know what he wants to do with me after that, probably sell me to someone. I know that I have to resist, but I’m not sure how long I can hold out. He says he won’t hurt me, but I don’t know if I can trust him.
I’m not awake long before I hear someone outside of my cell. The door opens slowly and Logan steps into the room carrying another tray. He smiles at me.
“You’re awake,” he says.
I nod, watching him carefully. He sets the tray down next to the original one before picking that one up.
“This is cold,” he says. “Eat this.” He nods at the new tray before putting the original one outside the door. When he’s finished, he shuts the door and locks it.
I watch him, not moving. I glance down at the tray when he’s finished and I feel my stomach rumble. He sits down on the far end of my cot and nods at the food.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Eat.”
I shake my head.
He sighs. “Eat, Riley.” He picks up the tray and puts it on his lap. He takes a fork and spears some eggs, piling them onto a piece of toast, and then hands me the toast.
I take it and look at it. He nods encouragingly.
“Go ahead. Eat.”
I take a bite. It’s actually pretty delicious. Soon, despite myself, I eat the whole piece of toast, and then another, and then all the eggs, and finally two pieces of bacon.
He watches me as I eat, silently staring and judging. I wish I could know what he’s thinking, but I don’t ask him. I don’t want to engage with him any more than I have to.
It’s dangerous. He’s handsome and striking, but I can’t let myself be fooled.
“Tell me about yourself,” he says finally as I’m finishing up my food.
I cock my head at him. “Why?”
“I want to know you, Riley.”
“There’s nothing to know.”
He grins at me. “Come on. We’re stuck in this together. We might as well try and make it work.”
I cock my head. What does he mean, we’re stuck? I’m the one that’s a freaking prisoner. He can leave whenever he wants to.
“What are your parents like?” he presses.
“My mom is dead,” I say, not sure why.
“I’m sorry. When?”
“A long time ago. I was a baby.”
He nods. “So you didn’t know her?”
“No. I mean, not really. I have some home movies of her but I never knew her.”
“I didn’t know my mother, either,” he says, leaning back against the wall. I watch him, curious, wondering what he’s aiming at. “She died when I was two. Drunk driver hit her while she was out buying groceries.” He turns his head toward me. “What was your father like?”
“I don’t want to talk about my family,” I say sternly.
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “My dad was an asshole, too.”
I stare at him, not saying a word. He has no clue what I went through. He has no clue what my father was like.
“It’s always like that, right?” he continues. “You’re born to assholes and you try not to let them make you an asshole, too, but you usually fail.” He stretches his arms up in the air and I get a glimpse of his strong biceps and the tattoos that cover his arms. He drops them down into his lap and looks at me. “My dad was a real piece of shit. He was a marine in Vietnam and pushed me into the military. I guess that’s why I turned out the way I did.”
“You were in the military?”
He nods. “A long time ago.”
“How did you end up here?”
He smiles a little cryptically and looks away. “That’s a complicated story.”
“I have time.”
“No, you don’t.” He looks back at me with a serious expression. “Do you understand what kind of trouble you’re in?”
I stare at him, feeling the terror that I’ve been trying to stave off since this all happened begin to crawl its way up my guts.
“I know,” I say finally.
He puts his hand on my knee. I feel a thrill run down my spine and I don’t flinch away.
“I’m here to help you. As much as you think I’m not, I am.” He removes his hand then stands up and faces me. “Now. Strip.”
I stare at him, mouth hanging open. “What?”
“Strip. Take off your clothes.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Riley.” He crosses his arms. “Strip for me. If you do, I’ll bring you some more blankets. Maybe some books to read. You’re bored in here, aren’t you?”
I stare at him, fists clenched. “I’m not going to strip.”
He steps closer and I watch his muscular body. “I can make life easier, Riley, my little pet. Take off your clothes. I’ll bring them back when they’re clean.”
I stare into his eyes and for a second I can imagine him staring at my body, maybe even touching me. I can see his fingers graze along my skin.
&nb
sp; But I’m not doing it. I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I say.
“Food. Comfort. Pleasure. I can give you these things. All you have to do is take off your clothes.”
“No,” I say again.
He smiles. “Okay. Have a good day.” He opens the door to my cell and disappears, shutting it and locking it behind him.
I stare at the closed door for a second then I pick up the tray he left behind and I throw it against the far wall. I stare at it for a long time, angry and excited all at once. I wish I had taken my clothes off for him, just to see his eyes gaze at my body, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to give him what he wants.
I’ll fight for as long as I can.
8
Riley
He doesn’t come back for two days.
I’m left alone in that cell with nothing to do but stare at the barren walls. At first, I think he’s just busy and maybe he’ll come back soon. Instead, there’s nothing, and soon the first day passes. My stomach is rumbling as I realize that he’s not coming to feed me.
The next day is the same. I hear nothing and see nothing, and no food comes. I begin to think that he forgot about me, or worse, he gave up on me. Maybe he doesn’t care about me anymore and I’m going to be left to rot in this cell.
I don’t want to die in some prison in Mexico. I never got to live at all, and now I’m starving to death alone away from everything I know.
My thoughts drift to the darkest parts of my life. I can’t help myself. I relive some of the worst beatings my father gave me. He used to call me trash, a pathetic loser, a bitch and a whore. He would lock me in my room and not let me leave for weeks at a time. All because I’d do some tiny, minor thing incorrectly and send him into a rage. My whole life was spent trying to avoid those rages.
He can’t touch me now, but that thought doesn’t comfort me. I may be far from his reach, but I’m still starving to death.
Where is Logan? Why isn’t he helping me? He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but I feel like I’m pretty hurt. He could at least give me something to eat. I have water from the spigot in the wall, but that’s not enough. I don’t know how long I can last without food. Probably a week or more, but I really don’t know.
The day drags on and I feel the darkness pushing in at the edges of my mind. I don’t know what to do. I wish I had just given Logan what he wanted two days ago, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s not like he’s some hideous mutant. Far from it, actually. The man is gorgeous and clearly very strong.
I just can’t trust him. I want to keep some measure of self-respect, though clearly everything they’re doing here is meant to take that away from me. I went from one hell right into another, and I just need some small glimmer, some tiny ray of sunshine. I need a little hope to help me get through this.
Eventually night comes and I fall asleep. I don’t dream, or at least I don’t remember them. I wake up to the early morning light piercing through the small window at the top of my cell.
When I roll over, I open my eyes and see a tray. It’s sitting on the ground, full of food. I stare at it, trying to decide if I’m dreaming or not, but it’s real. I reach out tentatively and take a piece of bread.
“Good morning, pet.”
I look up, surprised. Logan is sitting against the far wall, a smile on his face.
I hold the toast and stare at him, not sure what to do. He’s watching me with that grin, and I don’t know what he wants. He’s so handsome, with tattoos snaking up his arms. He’s wearing a short sleeve black t-shirt and jeans. I can see a knife in a holster on his belt.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Eat.”
I take a bite of the toast, watching him, but before I know it I’ve wolfed down the whole thing. I sit up and grab the tray, eating my fill. The world feels clearer and better after I’ve finished eating, and I realize just how much of a toll the hunger was taking on me.
The whole time I eat, Logan watches me. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I feel like he’s appraising me, like I’m some expensive furniture in a shop or something like that.
I don’t care, though. All I care about is getting something to eat. When I’m finished, I lean back against the wall and look back at him.
“How was that?” he asks me.
“Where have you been?”
He smiles and shrugs. “I’ve been around.”
“You were letting me starve.”
“No,” he says. “I wasn’t.”
“You didn’t feed me for two days. I’ve been ...alone.”
“I know,” he says. “I have something for you.” He stands up and opens the cell door. He walks outside and comes back in with a beautiful, thick blanket.
He hands it to me and I take it from him. It’s soft, so soft, and I can’t help but wrap it around my body. It gets so cold in my cell at night and the single blanket they gave me isn’t nearly enough.
He smiles and leaves again. This time he returns with an extra pillow, big and fluffy, plus three books. He hands me the pillow and places the books down on the floor.
“What is all this?” I ask him
“Comfort,” he says. “Food. Books. Whatever you want.”
I watch him, skeptical. He offered me all of this before, but I refused him. I don’t know why he’s bringing it to me now.
“I can give you pleasure,” he says. “A lot of pleasure. More than you’ve ever known in your life.” He stands over me and for a second, I feel a chill run down my spine.
“All I have to do is obey, right?” I ask him softly.
“That’s right.” He kneels down in front of me and reaches out. I don’t flinch away. I let him take my chin in his rough hand. I stare into his eyes, trying to hold back my anger and my desire in equal measures.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“Strip.”
He says that single word and watches me. I let it sink in. He pulls his hand back and smiles.
“You want me to strip?” I ask him.
“That’s right. Stand up and take off your clothes for me.”
I watch him then slowly shake my head. I won’t do it. I won’t play his games. “No,” I say.
“Are you sure?” He stands up and sighs. “All you need to do is take off your clothes. Let me see your body. Let me see those hard pink nipples, your tight, wet little pussy. You’ll enjoy it as much as I do, I can tell.”
“No,” I say, and look away from him.
“Okay then,” he says. He steps toward me and I recoil, terrified he’s about to hit me, just like my father.
Instead, he gently takes the new blanket away from me. He throws it out into the hall. He takes the pillow and the books and he tosses those out, too. When he’s finished, he takes the scratchy thin blanket, too, and tosses that outside.
I’m left alone on my cot, knees pulled to my chest, and he looks at me from the doorway. “Give in, Riley,” he says. “It’ll get much better for you. I won’t hurt you, but I won’t reward your disobedience, either.”
I stare at him then look away. I won’t let him see me cry. I’m so angry I could scream, but I know that won’t get me anywhere.
He leaves and shuts the door. I hear the bolt lock into position.
Why didn’t I just strip? It wouldn’t have been hard. I had to do it before. But there’s something different about this. It’s the way he looks at me, like he truly wants me. Maybe it’s also that I want him too. He says he can see it already, but I don’t want to give it all to him. I want to hold onto whatever I can for as long as I can.
But I don’t know how much longer I can control it. It’s going to be cold tonight, and I’m going to miss that blanket.
I stretch out on the cot, thinking about Logan and what he could do to me if I do give in and take off my clothes.
9
Logan
I hate playing these games with Riley.
I sit on top of the wall, my legs dangling
over. I can see the ocean not far away, the waves rolling over the rocks. The sun is just beginning to rise and I know that I have to go see Riley again. I left her alone all day without food, which I despise doing, but I need results.
Anton found me again yesterday afternoon and was asking questions. He seems unimpressed so far, and I can’t let him get suspicious. I need to show them something from her soon, or else I’m afraid they’re going to throw me out of here.
I don’t have enough intelligence on them, not yet at least. I have a rough soldier count, but I don’t know how many girls are locked up. And the soldiers keep changing every other day, presumably because most of them are locals. That means that although there are a certain number of guys here, there are more they can call on out in the villages. I need to know exactly how many guys they have and how many they can call in for reinforcements before I call in a strike on this place.
It’s a dangerous game, snooping around. So far nobody has noticed me, since I’m new here. It makes sense that I’d be curious about the place. But soon it’ll be strange that I’m still looking around and asking questions. Anton isn’t as stupid as he seems, and I know he’ll see through me if I’m not careful.
Fucking hell. I need Riley to give me something. I clutch the stone wall and grunt. I don’t want to hurt her. I hate that I left her for two days without food. But I need her to understand that it’s better to submit than it is to fight.
I wish I could tell her that I’m here to save her, that her father sent me, but I can’t reveal that yet. It’ll only complicate things. I can’t risk it. She might be a bad actor, and that’ll screw things up. Anton might see through her.
No, it has to be real. I can’t fake it with her.
I climb down off the wall and head toward Riley’s cell. I stop off in the kitchen to get her some food then I go straight to her. The blankets, books, pillows, and other comforts are still on the floor outside her cell, which is good. I unlock her door and step inside.