Disgrace (39 page)

I retch and heave, I turn my head so as not to choke because I can’t sit up or turn fully on my side. Concentrated stomach acid and bile burns a violent path from my stomach up my throat and out of my mouth. The pressure is enough to coat most of my torso but not enough to clear my body and hit the floor. I am coated in a slick warm sticky residue, the smell alone keeps me heaving until I am dry and my throat is raw.

Why the fuck would Peitra do this? Jason told me she wasn’t happy about how things had played out but this is a little over the top, even for a woman scorned.

I hear movement outside the door. The room is completely bare, the floor is covered with a type of rubber with those dimples you get in wet rooms and public swimming pools. The walls are all white and the door is rounded on each corner and has a circular window in the centre that is also painted out white. It looks like a blocked out porthole. Only when that observations sinks in do I also realise the room is moving. I think up until this moment I thought I was probably still high but no, the room is definitely moving. There are no windows but I can absolutely feel the rhythmic pitch and roll of a boat. Possibly a very large boat or a very gentle swell. The handle shakes and the deep and loud groan of protest from the hinges on the door make me wince. I didn’t know ears could hurt but mine do, I sniff out a bitter laugh and internally reprimand myself, every fucking thing hurts.

A pretty blonde-haired girl pokes her head around, she smiles brightly and bounces into the room.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” She skids to a stop and slaps her hand to her mouth. “Ew, gross.” She shakes her legs and steps back out of the vomit that has dripped from my bed and onto the floor. “You’ve thrown up all over yourself.” She cries out, shaking her hands up and down like it’s the most disgusting thing she has ever encountered.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” My voice is beyond gravely, more like my larynx lost its fight with a cheese grater, almost as rough as I feel. I cough and try to generate some moisture but my mouth is too dry. “Can you get me some water, or better still untie me and I’ll get it myself. I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.” My tone is heavy with sarcasm, which might not be my best approach but she just smiles inanely and giggles.

“Oh, you’re funny. He didn’t say you were funny.” Her perfect brow wrinkle with confusion. “He said you were a bitch,” she states like that is a fact.

“Well, you’ve caught me on a good day.” I smile tightly and she bursts into a fit of laughter she tries to hold back, both her hands against her pink glossy lips. I stare at her because she looks vaguely familiar. She has blonde almost white hair pulled high in a ponytail, she’s wearing long false lashes but other than the pink lip gloss, no other makeup. She is wearing skimpy hot pants that are currently giving her a wicked camel toe and a tiny white string bikini. The minute triangle patches of white material barely cover her nipples, skimming her gravity defying tits that are far too large for her tiny frame.

“See, you’re really funny.” She points her finger at me, her tone is lightly teasing. “I think once you’re trained we will be great friends.”

“Trained? What the fuck are you talking about?” She jumps at the sharp volume of my voice and steps back. I take a calming breath through my nose and force a pained smile. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Lolli,” she gushes.

“Seriously?” Her face drops and I curse under my breath. She probably has a smart phone filled with vacuous selfies, which I will need if I am ever to get out of here. “Sorry Lolli.” It aches to curl my lips into a reciprocal smile but with effort I manage. “Trained for what?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I’m allowed to say.” She drops her head and her words are soft and barely audible.

“Okay, trained by whom?” I try and coax but she shakes her head.

“Oh, I’m not sure I’m allowed to say,” she repeats, her eyes like saucers when she looks up. I draw in a deep and much needed steadying breath.

“Okay, Lolli, how about where am I?” She bites her lip flat like she is physically having to suppress her desire to respond. “Let me guess? You’re not allowed to say.” I puff out my frustration when I really want to scream. “So what are you allowed to do?” I fix my smile but with no life to it, it probably looks like rigor has set in.

“Only what my Master allows me to do.” She sighs as she chants this eerie mantra.

“Your master?” I raise my brow in query.

“And yours too now.” Her smile is tight and she gives a haughty little huff. “But I will always be his favourite.”

“And you will have no competition from me, I can promise you that.” I quip.

“Hmm, you say that now but wait.” Her warning is lightly mocking like she is hiding a delicious secret.

“So you actually
want
to be here.” I struggle not to sound horrified when she is either genuinely happy or blissfully delusional.

“Of course every girl wants to be here.” She rolls her eyes like I have just said the silliest thing. I am going to go with delusional.

“I don’t.” Her brows pinch and furrow. She looks utterly confused so I repeat more slowly.

“I don’t want to be here, Lolli. Not. At. All.” She gives a slow, knowing nod, and I get a warm rush of hope. That this is just some fucked up case of mistaken identity and Lolli… the lovely, utterly vacant Lolli, now that she understands is about to help me out.

“Ah, my Master said you would lie to me. He told me not to trust a single word you said.”

“I’m not lying, Lolli trust me. I really, really don’t want to be here. Please help me get out. Then you can have your master all to yourself.” Her eyes sparkle at that last part but cloud with something that looked a lot like fear. Do stupid people feel fear? Because she has to be the dumbest person ever if she doesn’t believe what I am saying.

“He said you would say that too. That’s why he is the Master.” She tips her head acknowledging her misplaced wisdom. “But you are very convincing. I’ll give you that.” She waggles her finger at me like some naughty child. “I can see I am going to have to watch you, Sweetheart.”

I get a sudden pool of liquid in the back of my throat, it’s acrid and it burns. I swallow it down, I’m dangerously dehydrated because I must be hallucinating. “What did you call me?”

“Sweetheart. My Master said that is your name. That is your new name,” she states.

“Oh, God.” My voice catches, and I squeeze my eyes tight. If I could reach my temples I would rub the instant pain that is piercing my skull like an ice pick. This can’t be happening.

“Consider yourself lucky. The other girls don’t get names, and if you don’t get a name—” She looks at the closed door and steps back over to me, carefully avoiding the vomit on the floor. “You have a name. Trust me, that’s a good thing.” She opens her mouth to say more, but the noise from outside causes a flash of pure fear to distort her pretty face, and she rushes back across the room. The door opens and in steps a vision from my nightmares.

“Ah, Sweetheart, you’re awake.” Richard’s sardonic grin crawls across his face. Lolli has dropped to her knees, and I can see her tremble.
Fucking bastard.

“I have a name you piece of shit!” I snap. My eyes bore into his, Lolli is trying to disappear, curling in on herself, but I don’t break my gaze. He laughs but there is no humour in his cold eyes, and he quickly falls silent. He takes two long strides, and is flush against my bed. He towers over me. His six foot one frame looks so much taller from down here. He traces his finger along my cheek, and I snap my head away. It’s the only part of my body I can move, and he doesn’t get to touch me without a fight. He grabs my chin and forces me to hold still. His nails digging in harder than necessary. His eyes darken as I try to stop mine from watering. He leans down so close I can see the individual perfectly trimmed hairs on his new beard.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart, don’t hold back. I’ve missed your tears.” I grit my teeth and the tiny amount of liquid I have been savouring on my tongue I launch at his face.

“You fucking little bitch. You will pay for that!” He pulls a piece of silk from his top pocket and pats his face dry. I can’t help the satisfied smile that beams across my face even if I know it will be short-lived. “You will fucking pay for that, Sweetheart.” He snarls the last word like that is a cruel promise.

“My name is Sam.” My glare, I pray, would by some timely gift of supernatural power, burn the flesh from his bones, but sadly no. His face is inscrutable until he chooses to simply widen his evil grin. He takes a moment, my skin crawls and my body is cooled by an ominous chill. Drawing his clenched fist back, he swings.

“Not anymore, Sweetheart.”

An incredible cramping in my stomach wakes me, but I don’t bother crying out. No one comes, but if I’m honest, I prefer it like that. I think it has been a few days since Richard graced me with his presence but I could be wrong. With no daylight and falling in and out of consciousness, time is a very abstract concept. But I have had twelve meals at somewhat regular intervals. Lolli brings my food, and I use the term loosely, undercooked rice and tuna so dry I wouldn’t feed it to a cat. I was reluctant to eat at first but my hunger gnawed a painful knot in my tummy that kept me awake, and sleep is the only thing keeping me sane. Although she hasn’t spoken since that first time, I don’t mind Lolli so much. She always has a bright smile that looks wholly out of place in my living nightmare. I am not so keen on the big guy that accompanies each visit. He leers at me like I’m a piece of meat. But then I am laid out almost naked, on a slab so the simile is not wasted on me.

He stands guard as I eat and watches over me as I take care of business in the corner over the smallest bucket I have seen. I don’t remark about the useless size of receptacle, because I know it will be deliberate. The fact that I can’t use it without pissing on myself would amuse Richard. He always did love to humiliate me, but I’m not that girl anymore, and I won’t give him the satisfaction. I do stink though, and would happily kill for a shower and a toothbrush.

The door opens, but Lolli isn’t carrying a tray. She bounces over leaving the door wide and starts to unbuckle my straps. I get a momentary surge of adrenaline thinking she is alone and I could easily overpower her, but then the familiar dark shadow of the hulk fills the doorway.

“Up, up you get, lazy bones,” she says in a sing song voice, smiling sweetly. Her hair is braided in two plaits, and she is wearing a short-short pleated skirt and a button-down blouse that is tied in a sexy knot at her midriff. I know the look she is going for but today she looks very young with no makeup and wide, bright blue eyes.

“How old are you, Lolli?” She helps me up. I am eager to make some sort of bond with her now that she’s allowed to speak, at least for the time being. She may not be the sharpest tool on the box, but she has been kind. If I can get her to understand that I am being held against my will, then maybe she might help me. I don’t hold much hope, if Richard is really her
master.
But I have to hope, it’s all I have.

“Oh, I’m sixteen in three weeks.” Her eyes light with excitement but my mouth suddenly fills with vomit that spills into my cupped hands. I rush over to the bucket and empty my hands and what’s left in my mouth, hacking up to clear my throat. There is no toilet paper, another
mindfuck,
so I just rub my hands together until they are dry. I feel so ill. I turn to face this child. I keep my face impassive because she doesn’t need to see my horror. My judgement is reserved for the monster she calls Master. I’ll cut his bollocks off the first chance I get.

“How long have you been with Richard?” I swallow and steal myself for her answer. She looks confused and I realise she would never refer to him by his name. “Your
master
…”—I grit out the word—“how long have you been with him?”

“Oh, three years.” She nods enthusiastically. “I’m very lucky; most girls don’t last that long. That’s why I know I am the favourite.”

“Jesus Christ, Lolli, what about your family?” I gasp.

Her face falls and she drops her gaze. “I don’t have one. I was in a foster home but ran away. I seemed to grow these big boobs overnight and that’s when the dad started to touch me. My Master saved me, Sweetheart.” Her voice softens, and I can hear her adoration. It chills my soul.
Out of the frying pan…

She tips her head for me to follow, and I notice that the hulk has stepped away from the door. I reach over and grab her hand.

“Lolli, I can help you…Let me help you. We can escape together.” I plead but her eyes widen with disbelief.

“Why would I want to escape?” She sniffs out an incredulous laugh. “The Master is wonderful.” She leans in to whisper. “He wasn’t in the beginning, so learn from my mistakes, Sweetheart, and just do everything he says…
immediately
.” Her eyes are grave with warning.

“You enjoy the way he treats you?” I have to be careful because I can see how deeply she cares for Richard. I find it repugnant, but this is her reality, if not her free will, speaking.

“Not all the time.” She shrugs lightly. “But if I’m good he doesn’t need to punish me. He hates to punish me.” She smiles again, and her face lights up. My heart breaks a little more. “I love him, Sweetheart, why would I ever leave him?” She shakes her head lightly. “Besides he’d kill me if I tried.” She flashes me a look that is filled with truth and wisdom well beyond her young years. I swallow thickly.