“As long as I get the kid, I don’t care what you do to me.”
12
Liesel
“I hate you,” I say as I stand in the center of the stage, looking out at Langston.
The crowd chuckles, thinking I truly hate Langston. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Even when I hated him, I still loved him. He’s a drug I can’t give up.
Right now, I wish he hated me. He could ruin everything if he prevents my sacrifice.
His limits have been pushed about what he can handle me enduring and what he can’t. So far, he’s stayed on the sidelines watching but not trying to stop the price I had to pay for losing each round.
I’ve seen every vein in his head pop, I’ve seen his muscles flex with the need to step in, I’ve seen his face redden as he held his breath to keep his ass in his seat instead of throwing me over his shoulder and getting me the fuck out of here.
This round will test him more than I think he can handle.
I’m standing naked on the little stage. I lost my clothes after the last round, as did Langston.
Anyone else standing in my place might be trembling in fear. Goosebumps would have surely formed. Their hearts would have sped to an ungodly speed or slowed beyond detection.
For me, the only thing my body feels is Langston all the way across the room. His eyes sparkle with his love even from there. How foolish was I to try and stop us from loving each other all these years? Why did I let him hate me? Why not demand his love all those years ago when we were five years old?
Would we still be here now? About to lose everything to try and save our children?
Maybe, but at least if we’d spent those years loving each other, it wouldn’t feel like we wasted so much time now.
I feel a hand start to graze my body, and Langston’s body changes in the familiar way. His lips thin, his hand twitches, his eyes glaze over into darkness. He’s fighting every nerve in his body to not save me. Saving me means losing Rose, and our kids will always come first.
“Stay,” I half mouth, half say to Langston.
Another hand touches me. I try not to focus or think about where. It’s easy to tune out when I’m so focused on not showing any signs of distress to Langston. I don’t want him to suffer be
cause he thinks I’m in pain—I’m not.
The debt I lost said that any man in this room could touch me where they want. So far, I’ve been poked and prodded everywhere—places no one but Langston deserves to touch. But the hand we’ve been dealt means we have to fight to get to that place. And when we do, I have a feeling our happily ever after is going to be short-lived. Even if we find happiness together, something will come along and take it away. The world always takes from us. It’s why I’ve been so opposed to us being together.
I feel the man slide his grubby finger inside me. I don’t react. I’m not in pain, not really. This will all be over soon, so fucking soon.
Langston looks like he’s about to combust. But if I could stay in my chair while that sadistic woman almost cut off all the blood supply to his balls, then he can sit in his chair for this.
Langston can’t put up with it, though. He rushes onto the stage. The man who was fingering me steps back, probably because he thinks Langston will punch him. Langston takes a deep breath as he stands in front of me, shielding me from the rest of the men.
“Langston, I’m okay. I promise,” I say, making my voice sound as strong as possible.
“I know you are. I’m not.”
“We have to play the game. We have to win. There is no other option.”
“I know.”
“Then, what are you doing? Go back to your chair.”
He tilts his head as cocky grin spreads. “I’m having my turn.”
I frown, confused, just before his hand cups my sex.
“Oh.”