Chapter 2 #2
“Well, Ana. I hope we see each other again.”
My features quickly fall flat again at the realisation of where we are, knowing that in reality, I might actually not see Tina again.
Her eyes glow with unshed tears before she turns and walks away, collecting a pair of heels from the shoe rack before exiting the room.
I watch her leave and my hands fumble with the hem of my dress, attempting to yank it down to cover more of my thighs but it’s no use.
Immediately the door frame into the room is blocked by a large, stocky guard with a bald head and a dark beard who has us squirming in fear like lab rats.
“Alright ladies! Line up!”
His voice bellows through the room and we quickly scramble into a line against one of the walls, facing chest to back, chest to back. I squeeze myself in between two other women and begin to walk in short steps out of the room.
“If you haven’t got shoes, make sure there’s some on your feet! I don’t wanna have to drag your asses back in here for some!”
I drop my head down to my feet, noticing they’re still bare.
Shit. I’ll have to grab some from the shoe rack before we leave, I just hope there’s some left.
We step, inch by inch until I can see the rusted metal rack come into view.
There’s still a couple of pairs left and I jump out of the line to grab a black pair.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The guard’s sharp voice slams into my ear the moment I try to step back in line. The other women stop in fear but they don’t turn, they daren’t. I’m not worth their life.
“Well?” He pushes.
“I just.. I just need some shoes.” I mumble, keeping my head low to avoid his deathly stare.
A sharp crack splits the air as the guard’s hand lands heavily on my cheek.
The vicious hit sends my face whipping to the side and I fall backwards onto my ass, the pain ricocheting up my back.
The women gasp and whimper in fear but remain standing, keeping their bodies locked in place as I try to clamber to my feet.
I only make it half way before I’m hoisted up by my hair and thrown back into the line.
With rough hands, the guard pulls my face to his and my whole body shakes in fear.
Globs of spittle fly onto my cheeks from between his yellowing teeth as he speaks.
“Know your fucking place whore. Stay the fuck in line.”
Gritting my teeth until they ache, I nod my head before taking my place back in line.
The other women huddle around me whilst I slip my feet into the black heels, then we move on again as if it never happened.
The more these guards push, and poke and prod me, the more hollow I become and that hollowness will slowly create a dangerous monster.
A monster that isn’t afraid to take the lives of others, of those that deserve it.
A bright strobe light burns into my already sensitive eyes as it scans across us, showcasing the goods to the buyers in the crowd.
We’re sent up onto a makeshift stage in groups of five with a paper number attached to the front of our dresses.
The number ten sits heavily on the front of my dress as my fingers tangle and pull at a loose piece of cotton on the hem of my dress.
“Good evening gentlemen, and welcome to our next lot of jewels, for your buying pleasure.” An older man in a gray suit stands proud in front of us, his voice loud and sharp as he speaks into the microphone. The audience claps and whistles before allowing him to speak again.
“We had a sold out group last time, let’s see if we can do it again. Who wants one of ‘em!” The man shouts towards the audience, riling the disgusting men up to spend money on women. I wince at the deafening sound as the strobe light lands on the first woman in line.
“Up first we have Lexy. Who wants her? I’ll start the bidding at two thousand dollars.
” The woman named Lexy steps forward on shaky legs, the bright strobe light burning onto her caked up face, and she winces at the intrusion of light.
The men in the audience lift their numbered plaques, the bidding getting higher and higher each time.
“Can I get five thousand, whose got five thousand?”
I spot a man at the back, his face shrouded in shadow, the moment five thousand is offered, he raises his number.
“Going once.”
“Going twice.”
No one else offers any more money and the auctioneer slams his gavel onto a wooden bench. “Sold! For five thousand dollars.”
Immediately the sound of applause echoes around the room and Lexy is taken backstage, her heels scraping across the floor as she tries to keep her balance.
Over the course of an hour maybe, the next three women sell like hot cakes, none of them selling under ten grand though, but I doubt my husband will care.
Money is money to him, no matter how much it is or how he came to obtain it.
The room falls silent again after the woman before me is sold, leaving me standing alone in a room full of hungry vultures.
I can feel my skin breaking out in a cold sweat as the strobe light lands on my face, completely blocking my vision.
I’m desperate to raise my hand to shield my eyes but I daren’t move, frozen in fear.
I’ve never been bid on before, and I hope to God that this time it’s the same outcome.
I don’t think I would ever survive if I was shipped off to someone’s home, to be used and abused and turned into a glorified sex doll.
“Lastly from this group we have, Annabelle.” The room stays silent before the auctioneer speaks again. “We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”
My eyes bug wide at the amount and I wait for someone to lift their plaques.
“Anyone for ten thousand dollars?” The auctioneer pushes again but the room stays silent and I swear I can hear my heart thrumming in my ears, the sound whooshing in and out.
The auctioneer speaks again, nerves littering his tone, “well, uh. Alright then, going once!”
“Going twice?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.” A voice speaks from the back.
The audience gasps and my heart falls into my stomach. This can’t be happening. I can’t do this. My chest begins to tighten with every breath I take.
“Who offered twenty?” The auctioneer speaks out to the audience but none of them answer, just incoherent mumbles fill the room.
I hang in limbo for a moment, my head throbbing with an impending headache when a man appears from the back of the room, dressed in a very expensive suit. A suit I’ve seen many times.
My husband.
The devil himself splits the audience like the red sea, carrying an aura of deadliness with him.
The room hums with electricity as Ricky takes calculated steps towards me and I can feel my knees buckling, threatening to give way from underneath me.
The auctioneer shuffles on his heels before turning to face my husband.
“Mr De Rossi. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Ricky stays silent for a moment, assessing the situation before his face morphs into the classy and well loved gentleman that people hate to love. A monster shedding its skin right before my eyes.
“It’s no problem, Philip!” My husband’s cheery voice grates through my ears. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen my wife looking so good, and what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t spend my hard working money on her.”
I keep my eyes rooted to a speck of dirt on the floor but I can feel Ricky’s burning gaze washing over me. The hatred and disgust shooting straight into my pores like bullets.
“Of course Mr De Rossi. By all means, take your prize.” Philip, the auctioneer gestures towards me and Ricky wastes no time in wrapping his hand tightly around my upper arm, forcefully yanking me towards him.
His familiar rich scent quickly hits my nose and I recoil at the smell.
I used to love the smell of him, I’d welcome it in fact but now it makes me sick.
It’s not woodsy and warm, it’s not.. Dean.
Tears well in my eyes and my teeth grind into a fine powder at the thought of Dean.
I try to keep him out of my mind, to place him safely in a locked box in the recesses of my mind but sometimes he slips through the cracks, his deep voice haunting my fitful sleep.
Keeping my eyes down, I slam the lid on that mental box and force the tears away. I refuse to cry.
Ricky tightens his fingers around my arms but I make no sound, instead biting down on the flesh inside my mouth to keep me quiet. I feel his face nuzzle into my hair and I freeze, keeping my spine straight.
His voice is filled with malice. “I told you I’d get you back, and you’ve been a very bad girl. Haven’t you sweetheart?”
The pet name slices through me like a serrated blade and I inwardly recoil at it. Remembering all the times he spoke down to me, degraded me until I felt useless and used.
My husband’s voice violently pulls me back into the present.
“I’ve just spent twenty fucking grand on you, so you better make it worth it until I’m done with you.” He speaks through gritted teeth into my ear and I nod, my movements jerky and stiff.
“Good girl.” He praises into my ear before dragging me down the steps of the stage, then behind a heavy curtain and down a narrow hallway until we reach some kind of office.
The room makes me feel uneasy and I’m starting to miss the confines of my cage.
At least in there, I know exactly what’s coming.
Here, trapped in a room with the Devil, anything could happen.
Ricky throws me into the room and I land heavily on my knees, my hands bracing the fall that sends a sharp shooting pain up my arms. I grit my teeth and keep my head low, listening to Ricky slamming the office door closed before his polished shoes come into view.
“Get the fuck up.” He snaps.
Lifting my head, I rise on shaky knees before standing to my full height, my feet screaming for release from the shoes that are definitely two sizes too small for me.
Once I face him, he begins to circle me like a deadly animal, his steps slow and calculated and my nerves fire to life as I fear for his next move.
“So. Dean Sinclair eh?” I flinch at the sound of his name leaving my husband’s mouth. “You really can’t think that I’d never find out, did you? I know you’re stupid, but you can’t be that stupid, right?” He chuckles to himself and continues to walk around me, his steps silent against the carpet.
“C’mon, your secret is out of the bag sweetheart. You can tell me all about him. I bet you let him fuck you didn’t you? Like the desperate whore you are.” He spits out, his words like venom.
Blood pools in my mouth from how hard I’m biting the flesh inside, the coppery tang bursting across my tongue and I use the sharp pain to keep me grounded.
Ricky is baiting me. Pushing me to bite back and I can’t, I can’t let that happen.
I can’t let him see that he’s gotten to me. I need to keep Dean safe.
“Dean meant nothing to me.” I mumble, the words feeling like sharp glass as they leave my mouth. The lie is so toxic that I want to vomit.
My husband pauses in place. “So you just fucked him to get your kicks then, yeah? You let him use that washed up cunt of yours and that was that.” Ricky spits out as he comes to stand in front of me. His grey ocean eyes burning into my skin.
“Yeah.” I reply, tipping my head to face him for the first time.
“A good fuck and nothing more.” Ricky dips his face towards mine until his hot breath fans across my already heated skin, his lips inches away from mine.
He’s always seen me shy away from his proximity but I don’t this time, instead I keep my eyes locked on him with hatred burning through my veins.
“If that’s all you’ve become, then I suggest you put that washed up cunt to good use.
I paid for you and you’ll belong to me until there’s nothing left of you to scrape up from the floor.
Your precious Dean, will die knowing me and my men fucked the life out of you until you’re nothing but a flesh bag. A gaping, fucking whore.”
My eyes begin to sting from keeping them open but I refuse to look away.
My husband’s words mean nothing to me, they’re useless and empty and he, and his men can use me until there’s nothing left.
I’ve lived my life and the months spent with Dean and Lyla were the best I could have ever asked for.
I’d found real love and that’s more than can be said for others who maybe never find it in their lives.
My soul died the moment I was thrown headfirst into this place and if my husband thinks he can break me, more than I already am.
He’s never been more wrong in his sad, pathetic life.
I hope in my broken heart that Dean never finds me like this. I want him to remember me how I was before, carefree and happy, not this shell of a person. He doesn’t deserve that.
Unclenching my jaw, I bring my face closer to Ricky until our noses are touching. “So use me. Use me until there’s nothing left, but let me say this, you will never have my soul.”
Ricky’s gray eyes flare at my words, his jaw ticking rapidly and before I know it, I’m thrown over the rickety wooden desk, my chest slamming heavily into the hard surface, causing the air to flood out of my lungs.
I don’t even have the chance to catch my breath before Ricky tears the back of my dress in half, leaving me naked and vulnerable in front of him.
I feel him lean over me, the expensive material of his suit grazing the backs of my thighs.
He feeds his hand into the back of my hair and grips the strands tightly in a vice grip to lift my head from the desk, causing my neck to crack at the force of the awkward angle.
“I’ll make you regret your fucking words, wife.
” He seethes into my ear before ramming his cock into me with vicious force whilst shoving my face into the desk, the rough wooden surface scrapes against the side of my face every time he shoves into me.
The noise of his grunts and the creaking of the desk sends me into a dark place, a familiar friend who I fall into every time I’m used for someone else’s pleasure.
My mind becomes a vat of nothingness, an empty space for hurt and pain to flourish in the darkness. A garden filled with dismay.
The harsh wood of the desk rubs against my face and tears well in my eyes but they don’t fall, like they’re conditioned to stay where they are. Frozen in time, unable to move. Just like myself.