Chandra
I am led to a small building positioned behind the club and through the door.
Buzz wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m in the dark on what’s happening.
As we get inside and the door is closed, a light is switched on.
There, in front of us, is Misty, tied to a chair with a cloth over her mouth. She tries to scream, but it’s muffled.
“What are you doing?” I ask the man I love, and he looks down at me. The look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. I turn back to Misty and she squirms in the chair, trying to scream out again.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I tell him right before her gag is taken off.
She screams, and I take a step forward. This bitch tried to ruin my relationship and gave me over to a sick and twisted man.
She literally led the man who had me beaten and trafficked, back to him so that I could make him money being forced to sell my body and time.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks as tears fall down her face. This isn’t right because she’s been used just like me. She went through everything that I went through. But another side of me wants payback.
“Nothing serious,” I tell her, and she starts squirming in her chair again like she can get through the rope keeping her in place in the chair.
“Are you going to kill me?” she shrieks as my fist connects with the right side of her face. Her head snaps to the side, and I get a sick satisfaction from the blood running down the side of her face from the cut I caused.
“No. I’m going to beat the hell out of you, then leave you to the police!” I yell as I start pummeling her face with my fists. I pour out every ounce of anger, hurt, and hatred with each punch to her face. Hands grab me and then I feel arms wrap around me in a protective barrier.
“I think that’s enough Cherie,” I hear, then look at Misty. She’s almost unrecognizable with the wounds, blood, swollen eyes, busted lips and nose. I blacked out.
“Can we leave, please?” I ask, as I am guided out of the building.
Once inside his room, I’m stripped out of my clothes, put into bed, and wrapped up in his strong arms. I burrow into him and cry.
Cry for what was done to me because of her and for what was done to her to make her this way.
We aren’t too different her and I. We went through something traumatic but the difference is I wouldn’t hurt anyone like she did.
I somehow feel better after what I just did. I’m not disgusted, I’m free.