by Caroline Day
Caroline Day
COMPULSION
Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Chapter 21.
Chapter 22.
Chapter 23.
Chapter 24.
Chapter 25.
Chapter 26.
Chapter 27.
Chapter 28.
Chapter 29.
Chapter 30.
Chapter 31.
Chapter 32.
Chapter 33.
Chapter 34.
Chapter 35.
Chapter 36.
Chapter 37.
Afterword
Preface
Number unknown: ‘You have half an hour to get to this place.’
The first message arrives five minutes after I agreed to this madness. But I was ready, I anticipated it. I had a feeling. He is unlikely to put off our meeting.
At the last second before leaving, I glance at myself in the mirror. I look at the dark circles under my eyes, at my nose swollen from crying. Maybe I shouldn’t. What if I don't get out alive?
I must do it. Think about him.
Fear. Uncertainty. Hope. Determination. A drop of curiosity. All these feelings are overwhelming me when I go to one of the high-rises of the City. The concierge gave me a key card to the apartment without asking a single question and gestured at the elevators. I take the lift to the thirtieth floor in silence, and cross the threshold of the elegantly furnished studio in silence. The interior is empty and dark, and the panoramic windows are covered with curtains, making it impossible to enjoy the beautiful view of the River Thames...
Before the absolute darkness swallows me...
Number unknown: ‘There is a pillow on the sofa next to a blindfold. Put the pillow on the floor, get on your knees, and put on a blindfold. And don't you dare bluff.’
I am not going to rebel. I have no choice. Either I follow the rules, or I die with my brother. After all, we need money. He needs money! The faster the better. Thanks to this person, I got a chance to save my dear brother one from imminent death. Until recently, I didn't expect that someone would give me a hand.
Anonym: ‘It looks like you need money. We can help each other, but I have a condition,’ I view an incoming message on my profile, wiping away unbidden tears with a napkin. Damn! I can't stop thinking about Dr. Connor's call. My brother is getting worse, and we need to move fast.
This is my last chance.
I: ‘What condition?’
Anonym: ‘You must follow all my instructions, obey me despite your wishes. No complaints or protests are allowed.’
‘Should I lick your boots as well?’ I tell to myself, but my response has nothing to do with my thoughts:
I: ‘What if I don’t accept your offer?’
I immediately receive notification ‘Add funds to your account! The requested amount twice exceeds the limit. It would be enough not only to pay for the surgery and subsequent rehabilitation, but also to recoup for non-pecuniary damages due to the fall.
Anonym: ‘What would you say?’ another message arrives, and the only response that I can give is predictable:
I: ‘When?’
Hence, an hour after the texting, I'm here, blindfolded, on my knees in the middle of the empty living room. The main condition is a blindfold, but I agree to anything for my brother's sake. I’ll do anything to save his life.
Suddenly there is a sound of footsteps in the room. He walks silently, like a tiger, making me feel like a game. Fear creeps up my spine, a light breeze touches my body and quickly disappears, but goosebumps manage to scatter over my skin, and a mysterious stranger gives a laugh.
‘Hello, Donatella,’ the man says in a low voice. He sounds nice but I hardly care about it at this very moment. ‘I hope your brother feels better.’
I don't even ask how he managed to know about Adam. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow, and I'm on my knees in the middle of nowhere, having no idea what will happen for me in the next five minutes.
‘You are more beautiful than the photos,’ the same soft footsteps are heard around me. He sounds like a predator. ‘We’ll give a lot of pleasure to each other.’
These words spoken with a tone of hoarseness make me shudder, and images of this pleasure immediately pop up in my mind. It makes me think that I should give up the dangerous venture, return the money and run as far away as possible from the cursed place, and from this man.
But common sense takes over, reminding me why I'm here.
‘What should I do?’ I ask in a trembling voice, touching the blindfold. Who is the stranger?
My fingers are abruptly removed from my face, and a rough hand is stroking my cheek instead. I feel like a toy that has been praised for obedience. This gesture does not comfort me at all, it only makes me shudder once again.
‘Spend a few nights with me.’
‘But...’
‘Believe me, you will enjoy it.’
His hand touches my face for the last time, and then sharply tears off the folds of my shirt. His fingers lower the bra cups down, exposing my breast. Coolness envelops my body, causes unbidden goosebumps, and tremendous fear denies to leave my head. But it fades into the background, giving way to humility.
That’s it. The game has begun. There's no going back.
Chapter 1.
Some time before that
‘Miss Brown, we will not tolerate another truancy,’ says pointedly Mrs. Thompson, our dean of science. ‘Professor McNeill said that you constantly miss classes. He complained a lot about you. We must warn you, miss…’
‘Of course, I understand.’
The woman presses her purple lips together and sternly looks me up and down. She pays close attention to my appearance, especially to my outfit: shabby jeans and faded Homer Simpson sweatshirt. The lady frowns at me as if I'm standing naked in front of her. I am not a schoolgirl, there is no need to wear a school uniform. Or maybe she noticed dark circles under my eyes? My bad, I haven't slept for several nights in a row! Got it?
‘Dolores,’ she strikes a softer tone, her thin lips drawn into the semblance of a friendly smile. ‘Do you need help?’
‘It is not the word,’ I mumble under my breath.
‘No,’ I say finally.
‘You can take a year out if you need to. It might be hard to study and work at the same time. We’ll try...’
‘Thank you, I am fine.’
Lord, have I interrupted her again? No matter. It would be better if she kept silent, never interfered in my life, and most importantly – wiped off this false purple smile from her face! No one can help me. Neither she, nor my friends, nor even Queen Elizabeth. The only person who is able to settle the issue is me. And the one who is watching us from heaven.
I brush aside all the unpleasant memories, wipe off the past that poisoned my present and future, shake out of my head all the problems that are piling up like a snowball.
‘You may go then.’
I’d rather ignore Mrs. Thompson's request and not waste my time after classes. Why should I give her explanations? Why s
hould she care about me? Why should they all care about me? That's right, they shouldn't. They're not a charitable foundation for students in need, and they don't make as much money as gangsters do. Therefore, they are unlikely to be able to help me.
‘Hi there, Lo!’ my irreplaceable friend calls me from another end of the hall. Andrew looks cheerful and happy, which is completely out of keeping with my mood. He has his favorite hat with bear ears on, just like always! Thank God, there are no sunglasses on his face today. ‘Are you going to the club tonight? I prepared a great show!’
‘Not today, sorry,’ I look with regret into my friend's shining brown eyes.
‘You're going to visit him, aren't you?’ My friend's cheek muscles are flexing. It happens every time when I refuse to hang out with friends due to the same reason.
‘I am.’
‘He is not worthy of your attention! Just leave him alone and live your life!’
‘Andrew, it's too hard for him,’ I say in a tired voice. ‘Anyway, stop sulking at him! So much time has passed.’
‘Sure,’ the guy snorts, looking away.
Why does he have a beef with my brother? I have no idea. The guys were friends since childhood, but now they don’t want to deal with each other. I am wrong though. Andrew is the only one who feels this way.
‘Anyway, you should come today,’ my friend, his eyes blazing with hope, hands me a booklet about a new show in the nightclub London. Sorry, Andrew, but I can’t promise anything.
I say goodbye to my friend and run to the Dorm. Fortunately, I have no roommate. No one snoops into my life, no one controls me or asks awkward questions. I occupy one of the bedrooms and have the shared kitchen and living room. I take a shower, put on the same sweatshirt and jeans, and run to the hospital. I have to get there before visiting hours are over. Besides, Melanie asked me to take over my shift a bit earlier.
I walk down the long corridor, nodding to nurses as if we were friends, and enter the room on the third floor. It's a comfortable ward with a TV and a refrigerator, which is cleaned more often than the streets of Berlin.
‘Hi baby,’ Adam blurts out, smiling crookedly and making a peace sign with his fingers.
‘Stop calling me baby!’
‘Come on, I say it affectionately, sis.’
Yeah, sure. I was teased that way all through high school!
‘I am sick of injections!’ my brother is pouting his full lips as I sit down on the bed next to him. ‘When will this shit stop?’
‘Dr. Connor promised that we’ll see the test results today,’ I say, patting my brother's bald head soothingly. I doubt it would comfort him. He is seeking for normal life. A human life. But how can one get it when the death is breathing down his neck?
‘I don't care.’
Just as I expected. He’s been like this for six months. Never asks about parents and friends. Never asks about Andrew. Because it's too hard to talk about family, and friends have already forgotten about him.
‘So... How are you doing, Adam?’ Dr. Connor, the attending physician, comes into the room.
He is a good-looking man in his mid-thirties. They recommended him when my brother was put on a six-month waiting list for treatment. But time played against us. Adam needed chemotherapy as soon as possible. Of course, I immediately transferred Adam to a private clinic where he could get the proper treatment before waiting killed him.
‘Awesome possum,’ Adam puts on a false smile. ‘Are you going to check me out?’
‘Not yet. Your test results came in today. My fears have been confirmed. You need surgery.’
The suffocating silence overwhelms the room, and no one dares to break it. Adam's gaze goes down to his palms, carefully examines the needle marks on the crooks of his arms. Not all of them are caused by medication injections. Something in my chest tightens abruptly, becomes heavy, and then hits the tile floor along with the remnants of my soul that I have preserved after death of my loved ones.
‘It demands a special technique and can be performed only by the best neurosurgeon in the country. Rehabilitation will be short, the surgery guarantees a long life and…’
‘I see,’ Adam answers for both of us because I'm not able to say a word.
‘Think it over.’
Dr. Connor politely gets out of the room, leaving us in silence. In a tense, exhausting silence that swallows seconds one after another.
‘You may skip the shift today. It won't help anyway,’ Adam’s voice sounds like a voice from the dead.
‘Don't say that again, okay?’ I sit down on the bed in front of Adam and carefully shake him by shoulders, since I don't want to hurt him. It can be more harmful for him than chemotherapy. I make him look in my eyes. ‘We can handle it,’ I say sternly. ‘You'll have the surgery and you'll be back to normal in no time. Got it?’
He nods without any objections. I look in my brother’s eyes sky-blue just like mine, but lackluster due to heavy treatment. I'm trying to give him hope for the future, for the day when he returns to normal and gets his life back.
How can you do it through when all the hopes are dashed as soon as you enter Dr. Connor's office and hear the fateful words?
‘How much time does he have?’
‘A couple of months, maybe three if we are lucky,’ the man says in a flat voice. ‘If we don't do anything during this time, the tumor will spread to the brain, and then...’
‘How much does it cost?’ I ask, realizing that our overdue insurance will not help much in paying for the surgery.
‘Fifteen thousand pounds.’
‘What?’ my eyes are practically popping out. Fortunately, I managed to keep my mouth closed.
‘We can't do anything else, miss Brown. As soon as you pay for the surgery, we’ll start preparing him.’
Holy crap! What should I do? I make a thousand pounds a month, including tips. Where the hell can I get fifteen thousands? Besides, I have to pay for the hostel, food, and Adam's stay in the hospital. Should I try to get a loan?
‘I’ll get the money.’
I say it in a strong, self-confident girl's manner. Yes, I sound like a brisk one who has no doubt that she will handle three jobs, studying in the first shift, two part-time jobs and remain cheerful until the end of the day. Certainly, they have thirty six hours a day!
But I am not like that. I am weak. But for some reason, people believe otherwise.
Chapter 2.
‘We have already set up a schedule for the month. Sorry, but there are no available shifts that you can take,’ Melanie says, looking at me with shitty regret. I hate it. If she'd taken some effort, she could have found a couple of shifts next week, but...
‘It's OK, I understand,’ I say with a tight smile. Tight is a keyword here. Judging by Mel's wrinkled face, I didn’t say anything special.
I leave the boss’s office in a terrible mood. I was refused a bank loan, there are no free shifts in the restaurant, and my friends do not have enough money. It's a matter of fact that I am up to my eyeballs in shit, and I have no idea how to get out of this stinky substance. Should I go to Sicily and ask a mafia boss to lend me some money?
Even smiling moneybags in the hall do not put me in a better mood. They don't tip much, just a few pounds, and I would hardly get about fifty pounds by the middle of the shift. I feel terrible until a familiar face appears in the doorway.
Damn it! What the hell is she doing here? She’s looking gorgeous – a luxury fur jacket, high heel boots, and a tiny Chanel purse. A successful man in an expensive suit accompanies her. They walk arm-in-arm to a reserved table not far from the service area.
Damn Alice Lasky! My personal headache from high school. What if she sees me? I remember her teasing me for accidentally stepping on a piece of shit, and now she's going to make fun of me for my white apron and floor-length skirt, not to mention my signature hairstyle.
‘Could you wait on that table?’ I ask Susan, the only person I can count on in the restaurant, as she passes by.
‘Your acquaintances?’
‘That's not the word for it.’
I go to the service area to wait for the next customer. Thank God, she didn’t seem to notice me. The shift runs smoothly, although I occasionally glance at my former classmate and stay away of the table to avoid being seen. I hope they leave soon, since I don't want any problems at my only well-paid job, but they will occur if Alice Lasky sees me in the waitress uniform.
However, this couple is in no hurry. They slowly look through the menu, stare at each other, and talk like good friends. At first glance, you cannot find any fault. They look like a perfect couple until you notice a ring on the man's finger and Alice's left foot in a patent-leather high heel boot that is neatly arranged between feet of her companion.
Well, that’s not my business. Hell with it. I have to do my job.
I quickly integrate into the restaurant environment: I put on my customer-oriented smile, as required by etiquette, bring and take away dishes without any incidents, as my shift is gradually coming to an end. My legs are aching, just like always. I wish I could just go to bed and get some sleep. The longer the better. Sweet dreams.
‘Guess what... A couple has had a bit of nooky in WC!’ Susan says in the excited voice, drawing everyone's attention in the cramped staff room.
‘Games of the rich. Another parody of the ‘Fifty shades’?’ Amanda asks, pulling her sweater on.
‘You have no idea. The poor girl was barely alive. You know, that’s a bit odd. They left a decent tip but had sex in the WC, as if there were no motels around. By the way, Lo, thanks for the table!’ Susan waves a fan of currency. Three hundred pounds. Holy smokes! I should have wiped the slate clean and behaved like a professional.
‘Look who’s there, stinky Lo!’ Alice shouts from behind the bushes. Are you going to have a shower when you get a boyfriend, or your Humbert will be all right with your stinky ass?’
No way! I will never forget this bitch!
I put on my jacket and get out of the locker room. Damn, a new hole appeared in the pocket from the outside. The jacket won't protect me from chilly wind. The snow has recently fallen to kids delight, but it will surely melt tomorrow. I’ll buy a new jacket after Adam's recovery.