“I’ll do anything!”
I’m still holding her by the arms and she’s trembling.
“Please, please, just let him go. It was just a stupid—”
“Since when is stupidity an excuse?”
“Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
I let silence hang in the air between us, watching her. “Anything?”
She pulls back and turns her face up and suddenly, I want to see her eyes. But then, she nods. Three quick, nervous little nods.
I touch her face, smear a tear down over her chin, her throat, to the hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest. She’s holding her breath as I drag my finger down to where her blouse has torn a little, feel the softness of her breast. “Are you offering to fuck me, Priscilla?”
She draws back sharply. I watch her struggle to come to grips with what she’s just done. I walk behind her and touch the ropes binding her wrists. “I’ll have to see what’s on offer, of course.”
She makes a sound and I know she’s crying again.
Slowly, I untie the rope and the first thing she does is reach up to her blindfold. I grip both wrists from behind.
“Don’t do that,” I whisper in her ear. “Not if you want to walk out of here.”
Her hands shake but she nods and slowly sets her arms at her sides.
I move to stand before her.
“Show me.”
“Wh…what?”
“Show me what it is you’re offering.”
Her mouth falls open like she can’t believe what I just asked her to do. I don’t actually expect her to do it. To strip. I can tell she’s not that kind of girl. But when her trembling hands reach to draw her coat off her shoulders, I’m surprised. Hugo’s watching her too but her brother’s head’s bowed. I can’t believe he’d let his sister go through with this. Fucking asshole. When I’m done here, I think I’ll break his arms too.
Priscilla’s coat drops to the floor and she reaches for the buttons of her blouse. Tears are sliding down her face, but I can’t stop watching as each button is slipped through its hole and she pulls open her blouse, then drags it off, letting it drop to the floor on top of her coat. She’s wearing a pretty little white bra and I can see her hard, pink nipples through the lace.
Her hands move back and it takes her a minute to get her skirt unzipped. Once she’s done it, she pushes it down over slender legs. She’s wearing skin-colored thigh high stockings and I can see the neat mound of dark hair through the white lace of her panties.
She sets her hands on either side of her. I guess she thinks she’s done.
“Continue.”
“I…will you…” she’s starting to hyperventilate.
“Your brother’s a piece of shit. You sure he’s worth this?” I can’t help but ask. She reaches up to her face and I grab her wrists again, hold them between us. “U-uh.” I don’t want to have to hurt her. It doesn’t feel right. “Get dressed and go home. Let your brother deal with the consequences of his actions.”
“I can do this. I—I just need a minute. I just—”
“Cilla.” It’s Jones. We both turn to him.
“I—” Cilla starts, but stops.
“Go home, Priscilla. You don’t belong here,” I say.
“Please, I just…”
“You just what?”
Nothing.
I look her over. Something about her makes me curious.
“One month,” I hear myself say.
“W…What?”
“You’re mine for one month.”
“I—”
“I own you for thirty days,” I make very clear.
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do. You have one minute to decide.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Anything I want.”
She knows my meaning.
I catch Hugo’s eye because suddenly, there’s nothing I want more than this. Her. One month. Her to myself. Mine.
When I give Hugo a nod, he cocks the gun. She jumps.
“Yes! Yes. Okay. One month. What you said. Please don’t hurt him. Please.”
Jones is quiet. I look away from her to him, grip a handful of his hair. “You going to let your sister do this?”
“I said yes!” his sister cries out. “Leave him alone!”
“Nothing?” I ask Jones.
He whimpers. Like the fucking coward he is. I take a deep breath in and lean in close so he and I are eye to eye. “I just need to know one thing before I take your sister to my bed.”
His bloodshot eyes finally glide over to where she’s standing beside us.
“Here, Jones. Focus here.” I tug on his greasy hair until he looks at me. “Who put you in touch with the buyer?”
Nothing. Nothing but fear.
“Let me help you out. Was it my fucking cousin?”
He doesn’t have to answer. I see the truth in his eyes. I release him and he falls backward.
“Please don’t hurt him!” the girl cries out again. I turn to her. Pull her toward me so her chest is touching mine, so my cock is pressing against her belly. So she can get a feel for what she can expect. Her hands come up between us, a barrier. One I easily push aside.