Chapter 27 Just a Dream
“Okay, one more time,” the doctor said before pumping everything from my stomach. I gripped the sheets on the bed and squeezed my eyes tight, waiting for him to stop. My stomach was empty, so it felt like he was trying to suck out my soul.
“I don’t even understand. How did a bottle of bleach get left in this room?
” Sir asked two strangers, guards, from the bedroom doorway.
He was very angry because apparently, when the soap didn’t work on my skin, I grabbed the bleach.
My body was covered in red blotches and scratches.
He’d thought I had swallowed some of the bleach, but I’d only used it to clean myself a little.
I could still smell him on me though. Maybe he’ll let me shower again later.
“Lord Bering tends to use this apartment often. We’ll talk to the cleaning staff and see if there’s a connection. Maybe his slave … did something.”
“Or maybe the cleaning staff just forgot it,” the other guard offered.
The doctor pulled out the tube, nodded once at me, and then walked away with all his tools.
“Sir, I believe she’s telling the truth.
I only see bile. She should be fine.” They all crowded the doorway.
I crawled to the other side of the bed, closer to the window, and stared out while listening, covered with a blanket.
It felt so good to be on a comfortable bed.
“Okay, Doctor Miller. Thanks for the precaution.”
“It’s an honor, Sir. If you want, you can bring her by tomorrow. She’s obviously beyond exhausted, and she needs to eat something. Do you know if she has prior incidents?”
“No. I mean … I don’t think so.” Somehow, I could feel his gaze upon me even though I was facing away from them.
“I’ll check her records.” Except what was on file were not really my records, so he won’t see my prior attempt. “We can discuss it tomorrow when you’re both rested. I’ll give you your privacy.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Sir replied. The door clicked closed.
“We will update you as soon as we find anything substantial,” one of the guards said.
“Thank you.”
The forest looked scary at night. I wondered which forest this was. Were we somewhere in the Bosque de Secuoyas, or maybe the Western Pyrenees Forest? That’s what it’d looked like from the living room, pine trees everywhere.
As soon as the door closed behind them, I heard Sir’s heavy sigh. He was walking around the living room, rummaging. My stomach hurt. I had no energy, so I stayed put, looking at the night sky.
His voice startled me awake when he said, “Yes, I’d like to order two bowls of chicken noodle soup. Um … do you happen to have any …”
“Magdalena?”
“Hmm.”
“A-are you still hungry?”
“Yes.”
“It’s time for your antibiotics. You should eat something first.” What was wrong with him? He was acting shy, like he wasn’t sure what to say to me.
We studied each other. “Sir—
“Don’t.” He paused. “Just eat. I need you to get your strength back as fast as possible.” Sir placed his arms under my knees and neck.
“What are you doing?” He picked me up and took me to the round dining table at the corner and gently sat me in a chair. I hissed when the skin on my ass throbbed at the slightest touch.
“I’ll put the medicine on after.” He sat across from me.
I lifted the metal covers from the dishes.
In front of me was a plate with arroz blanco, y pollo guisado.
On the side, was a small bowl of habichuelas rojas.
My mouth watered at the steam rising as I poured the red beans over the white rice.
There was a small plate of salad and then an even smaller plate with platano maduros.
I smiled and closed my eyes at the amazing smell.
It almost worked. The smell like magic made me feel I was at home.
I could almost pretend Mom was in the kitchen and the twins were about to come downstairs and Dad was about to get home from work.
I opened my eyes, realizing that pretending was even more painful because it was like losing them all over again.
“Comé!” A partial giggle burst out of me. I could hear Mom chastise me in Spanish to hurry up and start eating instead of just smelling the food.
“Enjoy, Little One.” He seemed to relish the happiness on my face but eventually went back to reading whatever was on his laptop screen.
“Magdalena, we need to talk. I only have another twenty-four hours with you here.”
My mouth was full of food, and perhaps that was a blessing.
“I know that you’re used to a certain lifestyle.
And my goal is to find you an owner who will give you that quality of life even if you are …
his slave. You’d be surprised at the liberties some buyers are willing to offer.
” He cleared his throat while I chugged water to keep my big mouth from saying a word.
The chicken was so juicy and seasoned to perfection.
“It’s the best-case scenario. All of the girls I’ve trained have ended up even better than their previous lives.
” Yes, because life as a slave to a sick monster would always be better than the chance to make your own life whatever you wanted it to be.
Bravo, Sir, in showing me you hold absolutely no value to women.
“Again, I know you don’t come from a poor background—”
“Where are we?”
“In an apartment in the training center.”
“No. I mean where is this? Are we on the Western Pyrenees mountains? Russia? The Alps?”
He rolled his eyes, pursing his lips, then sighed. “We’re in upstate New York. Now, can we get back to some relevant topics?” I nodded while taking another bite. The beans were runny on the rice, and so savory, just the way I liked it. I could eat five more plates of this meal.
“Magdalena, I need you to—”
“Why are you here?”
“What do you mean? I’m here to train you.” He was agitated by my questions, almost yelling. It took everything for me not to laugh. Oh, this was gonna be a fun night. I stabbed the plantain with my fork and ate it while staring at him.
“How’s your family?”
“My family is just fine. What are you—”
“So you aren’t here because they have something on you. You’re here because you enjoy this.”
“Yes! I enjoy torturing women into submission and then selling them. It’s the easiest job in the world.
You see, they come here, thinking they’re pretty and special.
They think they’ll memorize the guards on duty and the hallways, figure out the place and somehow escape, or that I will fall in love with them and help them escape.
They think they can seduce me into it. I let them think that, and in the meantime, I train them into being okay with being fucked in whatever hole and position by whomever chooses them, into being punished for whatever reason their master sees reasonable.
By the time I’m done with them, they don’t even remember their previous life, most of them don’t remember their names.
All they want is a dick in every hole because that’s their only purpose. Satisfied?”
I sat there, gawking at him, holding the fork in the air and the food in my mouth, not chewing. I wanted to throw up, but this food was too precious for me to waste. His words were meant to hurt me, so I did my best to seem unaffected by them, but inside, there was a turbulence.
He’d read my mind and heart and crushed them.
I thought I was being smart, but it turned out I was the biggest fool on earth.
Why did I keep feeling like I was the stealth predator, then discovering again and again I was nothing but the stupidest prey?
I was absolutely no different than any other girl.
I started eating again, pretending his words hadn’t hurt. “So, what happens when my master dies?”
“You are picked up by our men and brought back here. There will be an investigation to see if there was any wrongdoing, and if there is, then you are tortured to death.”
“What if he leaves me all his money and demands on his will to set me free after his death?”
“The contract doesn’t allow him to free you. You could be free during his lifetime out of the kindness of his heart.” He shrugged. “But as soon as he dies, you are brought back here to be sold again.”
“And if I escape before you guys discover he’s dead?”
Sir sighed and pushed his hair back. “This is exactly why I warned you not to get caught, Little One.” He paused. “The tracker they put in you … It’s attached to your spinal cord. There’s no way to take that out without killing yourself.”
My heart and stomach dropped, but I acted unfazed. “S-so why didn’t they put the tracker on me when I was here the first time around? When I was ten?”
“We didn’t have this model and the doctors thought it was too risky given that you were... still growing up.” I stared at him while feeling as if the world was swerving.
“What happens when I get old?”
“Have you seen any old woman here, Little One? No, you haven’t. Older women are, at best, sold to other less-civilized trafficking rings which use them as slaves for hard labor.” I had to hold my smile at the words, less civilized, as if rape can ever be part of something civil.
“At best?” I asked, knowing very well my line of questioning was irritating him in every possible way, and I was getting close to having him tell me to shut the fuck up.
“Yes, I guess you’d find that debatable. But to clarify, the alternative is to be used for organ harvesting. So, I guess you have a choice.”
While I scooped another forkful of food, I stared at the fork. It wasn’t the most efficient of weapons, but it was all I had. At least he’d had the sense to not give me a knife. I smiled. “How long have I been here, Sir?”