“Don’t come near me.” My command is harsh, as cold as the room we’re in. I’m dressed in warm clothes, jeans, socks, and boots, with a heavy woolen hoodie. But the girl, the pretty dolly, is only dressed in panties. They’re also bloody. I’d looked at them earlier. I’d traced my finger over them while I’d jerked my dick. I’d stroked myself in my fist while I touched her bloody cunt.
“Why are you being like this? After what we did?” she questions, but she doesn’t come near me. Her obedience is perfect, just what he’d like. The man who’s now her owner until someone comes along and pays good money for her.
“Don’t act like we’re a couple, little bird. You’re a good fuck. Don’t go falling in love with me.”
“I don’t fall in love with monsters,” she says softly. “I have no choice but to be here, it seems. All I wanted was to talk to someone. After what happened between us, I thought—”
“You thought wrong, so stop talking and just let me finish up in here. Tomorrow, you’re going to be taken back to him. There’s no longer anything I can do.”
I still, turning to face her. The movement is slow, almost wary because I don’t know if she’s actually there. If she’s real. But I did fuck her. I felt her break around my cock, and I savored it. I reveled in taking her violently, and she in turn moaned my name even though she didn’t come.
“My father is the owner of a tech company in Miami,” she starts talking again, but I ignore her. “But, I mean, he’s not a good person.” She sighs, the sound sad, but there’s also frustration clear in her tone. “Is this because of him? What am I doing here? Please, talk to me.” She looks at me as she questions me as if I should feel something for her.
I don’t.
My nonresponse is met with a gentle gaze. We’re not friends. We never will be. She won’t live long enough to be anything to me, but the way she regards me, it’s as if I’ve known her my whole life.
A knock on the door has her shooting to the bed, the squeaky springs under the threadbare mattress echo in the room, and I cringe. I don’t know who’s at the door, but all I can hope for is that it’s not my father.
When I pull it open, I find my best friend standing on the other side.
“Hey,” he says, his lopsided grin greeting me, and I exhale, allowing the tension in my shoulders to ease slightly.
“Does he know you’re here?” River shakes his head and glances over my shoulder. I know he can see her, and I wonder if he’s jealous that I’m here and not in bed. “Did you want to head out?”
I shake my head no. I should want to go, but the thought of leaving Caia alone here only sets my nerves on edge.
“Hi.” Her voice is sweet behind me as she greets River.
He pushes by me, entering the small space, and I grip the handle of the door in fear, hoping my father doesn’t decide to walk down to the girls’ cells to check up on them this morning. I glance at the time on my wristwatch and note it’s almost five in the morning. He’ll be here soon.
“We can’t stay long.”
River nods in understanding. We both watch Caia for a moment as if she’s the show and we’re paid attendees.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Her question jars me. None of the other girls who have been in here have ever asked me that.
“Maybe.” I tug open the door, leaving enough space for River to exit, and I follow him out. I don’t look at her again when I click the door shut behind me.
“You like her,” he observes.
I shrug, not looking at him as I respond, “She’ll be dead tomorrow.”
CHAPTER TEN
CAIA
Alone.
I’ve been alone for a long while. I can’t tell if it’s night or day. The space I’m in offers some artificial light, but I can’t see outside. The thick concrete walls have kept me prisoner. My back aches. It stings as I move, and I try my best to recall what happened when I was bound to the metal bed.
“You’re such a pretty little toy,” a gruff voice from behind me speaks. A small trolley is rolled closer. On it is a computer, which is currently black. The screen is dead, and I wish I was.
I’m still sick from the images I saw earlier. From the girl being beheaded. There was a sick satisfaction on the man’s face as he did it, as if he found pleasure in doing what he did.
I don’t speak now. I know it’s pointless. A cold device is pressed against me, and I feel my body opening, the object slipping inside my core.