Day 9:
Dr. Sloan doesn’t ask me why I’m crying and I assume it’s because she figures she knows. I would rather she ask me. “I know what you’re thinking,” I say, but it sounds like an accusation.
Dr. Sloan clears her throat, “What am I thinking?”
“That Caleb is awful, that he’s cruel and I’m stupid for loving him.”
She shakes her head, somewhat wryly and responds in a way I perceive as clinical, “I don’t think you’re stupid at all. If anything, I think you’re extraordinarily brave.”
I scoff. “Right. I’m brave. Reed said the same thing.”
I hear the scratching of her pen as she makes more notes, “Well then, you have a second opinion now. You don’t think your actions were brave?”
“Not especially. I think I just did what I had to do. Caleb’s always saying a person has to do what they must in order to survive. Survival is the only thing that matters.”
“You don’t think surviving is brave?”
“I don’t know. Do you think that guy who cut off his arm because he was trapped by a boulder was brave? It’s just instinct.”
“It’s called fight or flight and one is certainly braver than the other, depending on the circumstances. Under your circumstances, what you did was very brave. You’re here, Olivia. You survived.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that. I don’t like it.”
“Would you prefer, Miss Ruiz? Agent Reed says you don’t mind that as much.”
“Yeah? What else did he say about me?”
She smiles coyly and suddenly I find myself suspicious of their relationship. I don’t like the fact they talk about me. “We’re required to discuss the case, Miss Ruiz. We exchange all notes and information as well as any insights we might have. I did tell you all of this.”
“I know. What did he say about me?” I have a strange curiosity about Reed that hasn’t abated. I don’t know what it is about him, but there’s definitely something.
“He said you’re a brat,” she says, but her eyes smile. I smile a little too. Reed didn’t say that at all.
“Back to the subject. Why don’t you think you’re brave?”
I sigh, “I don’t know. I guess…I’m here and that’s what Caleb wants.” An uncomfortable silence settles between us. I’m lost in my thoughts. What, Caleb, wants. I thought I did everything he wanted, I tried my very best to make him happy, but in the end…I guess it doesn’t matter.
“You keep referring to him in the present tense, why?”
I can see his face in my mind’s eye, so beautiful, so sad. There’s blood smudged across his cheek, but I don’t care. I’m not squeamish any more. It’s the face of the man I love, the only one I’ve ever loved and it’s difficult to imagine there will ever be another. I wipe more tears away. That bastard. “It’s easier,” I finally answer, “I don’t like the idea he’s gone.”
Sloan nods. “Go ahead, tell me what happened next.”
“Nothing much really, after breakfast he helped me get dressed. Then he tied me to the bed, gagged me, and left for a few hours.” I know where he went now – he went to the bank, but I don’t know if I should tell Sloan or not. Then again, Reed already knows about the money. “He went to the bank,” I add. Sloan flips through her paperwork and writes something down.
“Why isn’t Reed here? Why the both of you at different times?”
“Agent Reed and I have different job descriptions. He’s interested in the case; I’m interested in your well-being as well as the case.”
“So he doesn’t give a shit about what happens to me, is what you’re saying.” I’m not shocked by the information; it’s something I already knew to be true, but still, it stings to hear it from someone else.
“I didn’t say that. Please don’t put words in my mouth,” Sloan says. I think I’ve made her uncomfortable, but I can’t say for what reason. “Agent Reed says you kissed him?”
My eyes open wide and my mouth is slightly agape. I can’t believe he told her! Why would he do that! “So!?!” My face is heating up, and I’m positive it stems in equal parts from anger and embarrassment.
This is a side of Sloan I haven’t seen yet, her brow is arched and her mouth is a little tight at the corners. “I’m not your enemy. Please stop acting like I am. He told me because he’s concerned for you and the only reason I bring it up is because you were just telling me he doesn’t care about you.”
“Fine! I kissed him.” I look away from Sloan and toward the windows. Only Reed uses the kindergarten interrogation room to talk to me. I probably make him nervous. Good.
“Why?”
“Because he had something I wanted.” The words fall right out of my mouth and although I know the picture they paint of me, I can’t say I care. I’m fixated on the pigeon walking back and forth outside my window. I’m envious of the pigeon. It doesn’t have a care in the world beyond eating, sleeping, and defecating on park statues. That’s the life.
“Is that the only reason?” She’s trying to keep her words innocent, but I know nothing she says is innocent, not even her stories about interpretive taxidermy. It would be easy to forget Sloan is a member of the FBI and she’s trained to handle cases like mine. She comes off as very empathetic, and even a little vulnerable herself, but she wouldn’t be where she is today if she weren’t a wolf under that wool suit.
My head swivels toward her and away from the window. I make myself smile brazenly, “Are you jealous, Janice?”
She doesn’t miss a beat, “Of what, Olivia?” I smile again and this time there’s an answering smile on her face. Yeah, Sloan has teeth. I like teeth.
We go back and forth for several minutes. She asks me a question and I turn it around to pose the same question of her and she turns it back on me again. It would seem like useless conversation, but I think we’re both learning little things about one another with each exchange. Still, I’d rather be talking to Reed. I tell Sloan as much.
“That isn’t unusual, you know. Some victims of abuse tend to gravitate toward strong, authoritative men…like Agent Reed. They also tend to mimic the behavior expected of them by their abusers, especially when that behavior is of a sexual nature.”
I feel like she’s just doused me in hot oil. “Don’t. Don’t do that bullshit psychotherapy crap on me. It was a fucking kiss, not a pledge of my undying devotion. And for the record, I’m not some broken rape victim you have to put back together. I’m fine.” I’m crying again and I hate myself for it. Why won’t my face stop leaking!
“I’m sorry, Livvie. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Sloan says. She sounds sincere and that almost pisses me off more than her suggestion I’m some basket-case.
Aren’t you? You don’t know who you are anymore. You have no place to go from here.
“I think we’re good for today. Do you want to stop? We can go have some lunch in the cafeteria. Maybe play some cards in the rec room, or maybe checkers? I love checkers.”
“Sloan?”
“Yes?”
“You’re doing it again.” I wipe the tears off of my face and blow my nose with some tissues – funny how they’re ready and waiting by my bed.
Sloan lets out a deep sigh and leans back in her chair. Her expression is inscrutable, as though not even she knows what she is feeling, or thinking, or wanting to say. Finally though, she nods slightly to herself and opens her mouth. “I don’t think you’re broken. I don’t mean to ‘psychoanalyze’ you, well…” she laughs without humor, “at least, not out loud, but I do think there are some cracks to be filled in. You’ve been through so much in the last few months, and I’m incredibly impressed all you have are cracks. You should be broken, but you’re not. Cracks can be mended and believe it or not, you have a lot of people who want to help you mend.”
I swallow really hard. I don’t want to cry any more. I don’t know what I want, except for Caleb. I think I would gladly go back to the mansion, if it meant I could be with Caleb again. I would live it, all over again. I know it isn’t healthy and I worry that maybe, just maybe, Sloan and Reed are right. I’m fucked in the head and nothing I feel is real.
“You don’t know what you want, Livvie, and what you think you want, you’ve been brainwashed into wanting.”
Even Caleb said my love isn’t real, but…I feel it. I feel my love for him more strongly and deeply than anything I have ever felt in my life. I think if it turns out they’re right and I am wrong…that will break me. Survival…it’s the most important thing.
***
It’s been an okay morning, I guess. I didn’t care for talking with Sloan, but playing checkers with her was slightly amusing. I could tell she was still analyzing me as we played, asking loaded questions beneath the guise of conversation, but for the most part we just talked about life outside the walls of the hospital. I missed a lot of things over the summer.
For starters, I missed graduation. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I suppose I don’t really care, but it’s strange not to. It had seemed so important four months ago. I guess I’m still a graduate. My grades were exemplary before I left.
Left, that’s funny.
Nicole started college. She’s called the hospital a few times and we’ve chatted a little – not about anything important. I avoid that. She’s offered to leave school for a few weeks and visit me, but I asked her not to bother. I’m fine and I have a lot of stuff going on anyway. It was shockingly easy to get her to agree not to come. Life goes on. Even if yours is over.
Sloan has left the building, but she says she’ll be back later today. As if I’d asked or even wanted her here; the woman is daft. I’ll take: Answers to questions no one has asked, for $100, Alex. Still, I wish I had something to do besides lie in bed and watch TV. I’ve raided the library, but it’s all so unimpressive.
Reed is supposed to come interview (more like interrogate) me soon and I can’t help but feel a little excited about seeing him and talking to him. When he gets angry with me I can almost see Caleb in his brown eyes. It’s silly, but I almost live for those little glimpses.
I’m not sore anymore, haven’t been in days. My bruises are gone and my scrapes are scabbed over. When they heal, it will be as if all evidence of my time with Caleb has been erased. I wrap my arms around my stomach and squeeze until the thought passes. If you had told me a month ago, I’d be sad to have unmarked skin, I’d have called you stupid and smacked you around for good measure. But here I am: a girl without a mark, and without a reason to keep moving forward.
“That’s not true, Pet. You have every reason,” Caleb’s specter whispers in my ear. I don’t know if hearing his voice in my head makes me crazy, but I don’t care either way. It’s what I have left after the scrapes heal. I can’t give him up. Besides, I know the voice isn’t real, no matter how much I wish it were.
I like to play his voice in my head at night, when the hospital is quieter and I can concentrate on making him as real as I can. I spread my legs and finger myself to the memory of his mouth sucking on my tits and his fingers flicking back and forth over my clit. If I try really, really hard, I can hear him, feel him, even fabricate the smell of him – but I can never get him to kiss me. I usually cry after I come. That’s exactly the kind of thing I don’t tell Sloan. I’m fairly certain she’d have a field day with that information.
I make use of my time waiting for Reed; I take a shower and put on the oh-so-sexy hospital lunatic outfit they give me to wear: gray pants and shirt. You would think they’d have something more cheerful given the scenery, but then I think of the crafts room and decide it’s just as well. My skin tone does not do yellow. My lunch arrives and I pick through the soggy carrots, eat the gravy covered, yet still tasteless beef, and drink my milk. I eat the green Jell-O too. Caleb fed me better food during my kidnapping than these people. I laugh at my own joke.
“Something funny, Miss Ruiz?” I look up from my tray and see Reed.
“Yes,” I say, “something is very funny, Reed.” He smiles, no teeth, but it’s still pretty nice just the same. I wonder if Reed has a girlfriend. He’s not wearing a wedding ring. What would Reed’s girlfriend be like?
“Care to share, or do you have to extort more concessions out of me first?” he says and casually walks into my room and stands at the foot of my bed.
“You’re funny, Reed. Me extort you, that’s rich.” He smiles again and shrugs. I mimic him. “I was laughing because the food here is awful and Caleb fed me way better stuff. Seems like this place is real captivity.”
“Say the word and I’ll have you transferred to The Pentagon; I hear they serve amazing spaghetti every Thursday.” He sets his briefcase on the chair and leans against the wall.
“Gee, thanks. But I think I’ll just put up with the horrible food. If I’m going anywhere from this place, it’ll be to my new digs in whatever mid-western town you’ve decided to hide me in.” I give him my sweetest, condescending smile. “How’s that going by the way?”
Reed shakes his head, unfazed. Not that I really expected to get a reaction from him, this guy just doesn’t lose his cool…unless you make out with him. I smile again, wider, all teeth, and my smile isn’t remotely sweet. The idea has promise, as it seems to be the only thing we have in common.
“Let’s get right down to it then, Miss Ruiz. I’ve been doing some more research on your boyfriend and his terrorist friends and I have a few questions for you, starting with: When did you meet Muhammad Rafiq?”
Leave it to Reed to ruin any semblance of a pleasant moment. The man is an automaton and his programming is set to one objective: get the bad guys by any means necessary. I would respect him if he weren’t trying to ruin my whole life. Just another way he reminds me of Caleb. “That’s not where we left off, Reed. You said I could tell you the whole story.”
He sighs. “Dr. Sloan called me after she left the hospital. I’ll get all of her notes later, but for now, she said the only thing to come out of your time with her today was an acknowledgment it was Caleb who left you the money in Zacatecas. Two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars is a lot of money to transfer and deposit for a girl he planned on selling. I definitely want to talk about that, but for now the important thing is to find out more about Rafiq. When did you meet him?”
Reed has been here for less than ten minutes and he’s already managed to royally piss me off. “I didn’t know that’s what he was doing. I didn’t know until later he’d left me the money.” It takes me a second, but then the rest of his words sink in and then I’m angry with Sloan as well, the only thing to come out of our three hour talk is that Caleb went to the bank? That’s pretty cold. Everyone around me is just full of surprises lately.
“Rafiq, Miss Ruiz. When did you meet him?” Reed has apparently decided to forgo the imposing environment of the craft room and interrogate me in my room. Fine with me.
“He was there when we got to Tuxtepec,” I whisper. This isn’t a part of the story I want to tell, but I know it’s what I have to do. The truth is – I want Reed to make it to that auction. I want him to round up those bastards and free those slaves. I owe it to them. I owe it to myself. I owe it to Caleb. “He’d been waiting for us.”
Reed and I are silent for a moment. He pulls a recorder out of his jacket pocket, presses the record button and puts it down on the bed. “It’ll help me go through your statement later. I know this is hard, Miss Ruiz. I also know, you think I want to make it that way, but I don’t. I just want to do my job and make these people pay for what they’ve done, to you, and to so many other women and children. There are children there too…did you know that?” I shake my head. I hate him for putting that thought in my head. I can’t stand the thought of a child suffering. No more jokes or banter. Reed quietly lifts his briefcase and sets it on the ground before he sits down.
I clear my throat and lick my lips. This is where the real story begins.
***
I don’t know exactly what time it was when we arrived, but the sun had set not too long before. Caleb and I hadn’t done much talking on the way. I didn’t really have anything to say to him that wouldn’t result in him punishing me.
My heart pounded a sharp tattoo in my chest as we made our way down the seemingly endless driveway. The person who owned this house definitely had a lot of money and demanded a lot of privacy. Large trees hid our destination, but I could see the glow of lights in the distance. Soon. Soon, I would lose everything that was ever important to me.
I berated myself for not making more attempts to escape, even if I could barely walk, let alone run. Still, even if I died in the process, I felt like I should have tried again. Death had to be better than what I had coming. I knew once he got me inside that house I would be a sex slave for the rest of my life. I know Caleb said two years, but I just didn’t have any faith in that. How could I?
“Don’t cry, Kitten. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Obey and you’ll be fine.” Caleb’s words were supposed to soothe me, but his tone was somewhat deadpan. It seemed not even he, believed what he said.
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and closed my eyes to try and find my bearing. I could do this, I kept telling myself. I could survive. I could get well enough to escape. I couldn’t lose hope. Someone would come for me.
Abruptly, the truck stopped and a man wearing a tuxedo asked Caleb for his invitation. I was tempted to shout for help, but something told me the man knew exactly why I was being brought here and the last thing I needed was to prove to Caleb he’d been right about me. I would try to escape at the first opportunity. It was true, but he didn’t need to have that kind of certainty.
“I don’t have an invitation, but I was invited: Caleb.”
His name, that’s all it took. The man waved us on and a little further up the driveway Caleb stopped the vehicle, came around to my door and gripping me by the arm, pulled me slowly up the walkway while someone else took the truck.
“I can walk!” I shrugged out of Caleb’s grasp, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. I was sobbing, completely unable to stop. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
You’re going to die in there. Stop marching to your own fucking doom!
I stopped walking. “Caleb. Please, please don’t make me go in there. Please. Please!” I turned to run, but Caleb’s arms surrounded me before I managed to take my first step. I struggled and pain radiated from every part of my body, but especially my shoulder.
Caleb’s hand covered my mouth as he pressed his body against my back and held me immobile. “Kitten, don’t you dare!” he half whispered, half growled into my ear. “I warned you not to use my name. I warned you not to run from me. You are going inside one way or another and there is nothing you can do about it. Accept it. Breathe and accept it.”
I whimpered and sobbed behind his hand, but I had to admit being held by him was slowly bringing me back toward center. My panic was palpable, literally thrumming and pulsing in my veins, but Caleb’s arms were strong. Caleb was solid. My muscles strained and the pain was approaching unbearable. I willed myself to relax my body in degrees and I noticed Caleb’s fingers also relaxed.
He slowly withdrew his hand from my mouth. I gasped for breath and sobbed. “Shh.” He stroked my hair as he continued to hold me up. “I know it’s terrifying. I know you’re scared. I’m trying to make this as simple as I can, but you cannot disobey me. If anyone believes I am not your master…. It will be bad, Kitten. Do you understand?”
I gripped Caleb’s arm, wrapped around my midsection. Don’t leave me, I silently screamed. Don’t leave me. I nodded slowly and let Caleb’s touch comfort me and reassure me he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. So long as I obeyed Caleb, I was his and no one could hurt me. No one, but Caleb.
We walked the rest of the way in silence, but Caleb let me hold his hand. I knew he’d eventually punish me for my outburst, but that was later. At the moment, his anger was tempered and his hand was warm and strong against mine. Caleb was finished comforting me the moment we reached the large wooden door of the enormous estate. My entire body trembled, but I kept my head down and tried to breathe. My safety was assured, so long as my obedience could be expected. It could be a lie, but doubt was something my fragile psyche could ill afford.
Caleb rang the bell and after a few seconds, there was a metal clang and the door creaked open. “Buenas tardes, Señor….”
I tuned out while Caleb and the man who answered the door talked. In the place of their conversation, I heard a high-pitched screech. I felt dizzy, too, but somewhere in my head, I knew it was only my panic and adrenaline doing this to me. I forced air in and out of my lungs at a steady pace, willing myself not to hyperventilate.
Caleb’s hand at the small of my back urged me forward and somehow I did it: I took that first step toward my own annihilation. Then I took another and another, my eyes watched my feet as they continued to carry me.
Music played in the background as we walked and soon I couldn’t help but notice the place looked like a lavish hotel. The floors were made of marble, and use of rich, wine colored carpets was also prevalent. I kept close to Caleb, especially since he didn’t discourage it. Suddenly, I heard a loud slap, followed by a woman’s whimper of distress from the left. My eyes followed the sound past the man in front of us and landed on the scene in the adjoining room.
A crowd of finely dressed men, and even some women, was loosely gathered to watch as another man in a white tuxedo held a naked woman over his lap. Her black hair was swept to the side, her pain-stricken face clearly visible. Her body seemed graceful, even in its debased position. A glaring red hand print stood out prominently against her pale white skin. The man stroked her spine and she undulated, lifting her behind higher into the air as if begging the man to strike her again. I looked away when he did and the woman once again whimpered, but did not scream.
Is that the kind of thing Caleb expects from me? I knew the answer. I also knew I would fail at the task miserably. No matter how many times Caleb had spanked me I always screamed and begged for him to stop, even as I surrendered to the orgasms he gave me.
“There is someone here to see you. I am taking you to him now,” said our chaperone.
Caleb’s fingers twitched against my spine and I felt a corresponding shock of pure panic. “Is it the master of the house? I’ve been eager to meet him.”
The chaperone kept walking as he answered, “No, Sir. The master of the house is Felipe Villanueva. We passed him in the den with his slave, Celia. The señor often has guests; he enjoys the attention.”
Another slave. Another woman being held against her will in this same house. It makes me sick. That poor woman, being humiliated in front of all those strangers and knowing none of them will help her.
Caleb stopped and I jumped when his hand pushed me forward. Our eyes met. His blue eyes were cold and they hid something very dark. I did not want to know what he was thinking. I forced myself to keep going.
The music and the sound of the other guests slowly drifted away with each twist and turn we took into the labyrinth. Unfortunately, they were drowned out by the sound of a woman screaming. I couldn’t help but start crying then. I found Caleb’s arm and gripped it with both arms, wrapping my body around it. I looked up to see the chaperone slide two doors apart and the screaming only got louder. The man and Caleb exchanged a short nod and then the man left. Caleb dragged me inside as he walked.
Caleb stopped after a few steps and I could feel the way his body tensed. Something had startled him. The woman was still screaming.
I looked up and the sight in front of me finally forced me to faint. Nancy, the girl that had assisted in my attempted rape, the one who had watched while those men held me down and tried to go at me from both ends. The one that had stood by while they punched, slapped, and kicked me! She was the one doing all the screaming. She was naked and tied face down onto some kind of wooden horse while an Arab looking man rammed himself into her over and over.
When I regained consciousness, I realized Nancy wasn’t screaming any more. I was lying on a burgundy leather sofa and Caleb’s angry face was looking down on me. He said nothing as he lifted a glass of water to my lips. I didn’t even think of speaking. I’d seen what could happen if Caleb left my side and I was determined to endear myself to him.
Suddenly, a man’s voice broke the silence. He spoke a language I didn’t understand. It was the same fast, clipped speech I recognized as being similar to Jair’s. He and Caleb’s exchange was heated and forceful. The other man laughed at Caleb. I dared not look in the direction of that voice.
Caleb’s brow furrowed, and his eyes focused above and behind me, “She’s scared. I hardly see how terrifying her further will serve anyone’s purpose.
The man let out an eerie chuckle, “English, Khoya? Do you want her to understand our conversation?” His words were thickly accented, but understandable. “She should be afraid. After the chase she led you on and the trouble she has caused, she obviously wasn’t terrified enough to begin with. Jair mentioned you’ve been soft with her,” said the man.
I could tell the man had to be someone with a lot of power. I couldn’t imagine Caleb would let anyone speak to him that way.
Caleb’s voice rose and he rattled off a bunch of words in another language I didn’t understand; Arabic, I thought. If I had to guess, I would say he was giving the other man a piece of his mind. I sank into the couch and tried to become invisible as the two of them went back and forth.
Finally, Caleb said, “Enough! Kitten, get down on the floor in your rest position.” Though terrified, I didn’t think twice about obeying and quickly found myself on the floor at Caleb’s feet with my legs open and my hands on my thighs, head bowed, just as asked.
“I want to look at her. Come here…,” he chuckled again, “Kitten.”
I whimpered and shook, but I couldn’t make myself move. I inclined toward Caleb’s leg, cowering and begging as much as I could without speaking or breaking my position. He had promised to protect me. I hoped he would, now.
The man tsked, and I could almost feel Caleb’s anger radiating off of him, but I didn’t know whom the anger was directed toward. It didn’t take long to figure out. Caleb’s hand pushed my head away and he left my side.
“Look at me,” Caleb said.
He stood next to the Arab-looking man. The man had put his clothes back on and I was somewhat surprised to see him in a dark, finely cut suit. His shirt was unbuttoned some of the way, exposing some of his deeply brown, and slightly sweaty skin. He was a few inches shorter than Caleb, but still tall by my standard. He was older than Caleb as well, perhaps in his forties. His eyes were dead and dark. They seemed to be rimmed in kohl but I could tell they weren’t. It was an attribute associated with Middle Eastern men to have such long, thick, and dark lashes. However, I was not attracted to him in the least. He was a monster.
“Come here,” said Caleb and I knew exactly what he wanted. It took quite a bit of effort on my part, but somehow I managed to crawl toward him without using my injured shoulder. In the process I saw Nancy was out cold in the corner, still strapped down, but with a gag in her mouth. I shuddered. I obviously didn’t give two fucks about Nancy, but no one deserved that.
More words were exchanged in Arabic before the strange man in front of me addressed me, “Leet sawm k’leet sue,” he said.
I looked toward Caleb who repeated the command with some exasperation. With tears flooding my eyes, I lied back and opened my legs toward the pair, relieved I was wearing clothing. That was, until the man reached down and flipped my skirt up over my knees. Losing all composure, I flipped the skirt back down and struggled to move away.
“Stay where you are!” yelled Caleb and I was helpless against accepting the command. He approached me at a fast clip and pushed me to the ground. Within seconds, I lay in the appropriate position with my most intimate parts displayed for this stranger. Betrayal burned hotly in my chest, but a voice in my head bade me to be smart and avoid confrontation. No one had hurt me – not yet and until then, Caleb still kept his promise.
“She’s hardly been broken. I’ve had more obedient hounds!”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed in my direction. He was embarrassed in front of this man on my account. I knew that now. I knew who the man must be. Rafiq, my mind offered. This was the man Caleb owed and he was the reason Caleb planned to sell me.
“Lye zhaash chee!” ordered Caleb and once again I did as he asked. I rolled over and lifted my ass into the air, sobbing into the carpet as I struggled to demean myself fast enough.
Caleb and Rafiq spoke more Arabic as they ignored my sobbing and took stock of me. Caleb’s hand traveled my body, exposing parts of me along the way. One of his hands played along my spine, trying to soothe me as the other trailed up the back of my thighs and palmed each of my ass cheeks in turn. It was almost as though Caleb were trying to convince Rafiq of something. I hoped it would end in my favor, but I had my doubts.
Finally, Rafiq let out a resigned sigh. “Fine, Khoya. Perhaps when she is healed and trained properly, I will see her as you do. For the moment, I am not so impressed.”
Caleb urged me back into my rest position and put my clothing to rights with clipped and jerky movements that made me want to cringe. Despite my relief, I knew I’d be paying for Caleb’s embarrassment one way or another and soon.
A groan from the corner brought our collective attention back to Nancy. Rafiq laughed, “Now this one, Khoya. This one is a whore. She’s been had by almost everyone, but she continues to come no matter how brutally she is taken, or how many times. It would be a pity to kill her, but of course, the choice is yours. I would never deprive you of your blessed revenge.” He walked over to Nancy and cut her loose.
She screamed as he lifted her and I cringed when I saw blood and semen run down both of her legs as he forced her to walk toward us while he led her by her hair. It was my fault she was here. Ironically, I was glad she had been so cruel to me and had participated in my torture. Otherwise I would be beside myself for what had been done to her. It was difficult to stomach as it was. I couldn’t imagine if this had been her penance for trying to help me.
Nancy collapsed when Rafiq threw her in front of me. She cried and whimpered, but what terrified me most was the way her hands reached out for me, “Help me,” she sobbed, “please, help me.”
I was frozen for a few seconds, but then I grabbed her hands and bent her fingers until she let me go. I didn’t want any part in this. I scooted back and dared a glance up at Caleb.
“It’s your decision, Kitten. I don’t know what happened between you. I don’t know what role she played, but if you want her punished, if you want her dead, say the words and I’ll see to it,” Caleb said. He was deadly serious. I could see it in his eyes and I knew what he wanted me to say. He wanted me to order her death.
Broken sobs erupted from Nancy and surprisingly…from me. “I can’t!” I wailed over Nancy. “I can’t do that! She’s awful. She helped them. She held me down,” I sobbed. “But I can’t kill her. I’m not a fucking murderer!”
Caleb’s face was grave as I yelled the word murderer. He lunged forward and I flinched, but Nancy was his target. He lifted her head roughly, craning it in my direction. With his eyes fixed on me he whispered in Nancy’s ear.
“Yes!” she yelled, “Anything…just don’t kill me,” she sobbed.
Caleb let go of Nancy’s head like he’d just touched a piece of shit with his bare hand. “You hear that?” He pointed his finger at me, “She just said she’d kill you herself if we let her live instead. Is that the kind of person you want to spare?!?”
My head literally vibrated from the strength in his voice.
“No!” I sobbed, “I can’t, Caleb. I won’t. Please, please don’t do this. Not for me.”
“Caleb?” said Rafiq softly, his face twisting and another torrent of clipped Arabic followed.
Horrified, I realized what I’d done. “Master—I didn’t mean to!” I pleaded, “I know you’re my master. Please forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.” I repeated the words as I rocked back and forth.
Without warning, Caleb hoisted me to my feet, completely unconcerned with the pain it caused me. More Arabic was spoken and then he led me out of the room and away from Nancy and her belligerent screams.
