Page 47 of Heal Me

While he leaves the room with his phone to his ear, Zoltan takes a piece of paper and a pen from his inner pocket, casting cruel glances at me as he scribbles down two words.

“This”—he holds the paper up in front of me—“is the mark you’ll bear for the rest of your miserable life. For as long as I allow you to live. Even if someone digs up your rotting corpse, they’ll be able to see who you belong to.”

I gulp as I read the two crude words.Zoltan’s whore.

Sadistic glee makes Zoltan’s eyes light up as he steps around me, pointing at one arm at a time, my stomach, and my upper back. “Here, here, here, and here,” he says as he goes. “No matter where you look, you’ll see what you are.”

The world is spinning and black dots are creeping into my vision as the auctioneer returns. I barely register his words as he says, “My tattoo guy will be down shortly. Anton will take you to his office.”

Zoltan grabs me with a bruising grip around my arm, hauling me down the corridors. I hold my head down all the while, focusing on keeping my feet moving.

Everything inside me withers as he leans in close and says, “I had just given up on finding you and decided to get a replacement the easy way. Who would have thought. There you were, as if brought to me by the gods.”

My throat constricts, and I can’t suppress a whimper as the corridors close in and terror darkens my vision.

“That’s right, things are gonna get so much worse for you than if you had stayed.”

***

The guard leads us into the medical room and herds me into the gynecologist’s chair with all the straps. Zoltan puts my legs into the stirrups and takes out his switchblade to cut off the lingerie. Then he spends five minutes toying with my pussy lips with the knife. I try to shut down and close in on myself, but Zoltan demands my attention on him.

“Look at me, slut,” he demands, and I’m too scared to disobey. He lifts the knife to my stomach and drags the sharp tip across my flesh. “In a short while, my name will be embedded into your skin, making sure you’ll never forget who you are.My whore.” He pauses. “Though, I could just carve the words into you instead.” Resting the tip of the knife on my stomach, he holds his finger to the butt as he considers.

I don’t move a muscle, don’t dare to breathe as gravity pulls the tip into my skin, breaking it, making warm blood seep out.

Removing the knife, he focuses on me again. “No, a tattoo is much more clear, and I’ll have plenty of chances to carve your skin later on.” A wicked smile spreads across his immaculate features. Most people would find him handsome—I once did—but I see him for what he is now. A devil in disguise.

Zoltan turns as the door opens and Dax enters.

I nearly gasp when I see who he has with him. The girl with the muzzle. Despite everything, I manage a smile as she lifts her gaze from the floor. Dax makes her kneel on a pillow by the desk, and her brows knit with worry as she keeps lifting her gaze, glancing at me. I think she’s supposed to keep her head down, but she can’t quite manage as fear must be racking through her, knowing nothing good will come from the scenario unfolding before her. I can only imagine being in her place. I would be evenmore scared than I already am, knowing I was about to witness someone harm her without being able to do a thing about it.

“What do you want?” Dax asks Zoltan.

Zoltan hands him the paper with the crude words that I will carry to the grave. Closing my eyes, I heave a heavy sigh. I hoped to be able to die still belonging to myself. But what difference does it make? He’s already marked my whole body, just not in words and ink, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t take my mind before I get the chance to kill myself.

Opening my eyes, I force all the horror and humiliation back and focus on the only thing that matters right now.It’s okay,I mouth to my friend, wanting to reassure her. With her here, my fear for my own well-being has faded somewhat, the need to shelter her taking over.

She draws a heavy breath, her shoulders shaking as she exhales.

Closing my eyes softly, I give her a tiny nod to reinforce my silent words while Zoltan discusses the placement of the tattoos with Dax.

As I watch her sitting there, fearing for me—caring about me—I almost feel like everything will be okay. Zoltan has always been reckless with his knives, letting them lie around, arrogant in his conviction that I wouldn’t cause him any harm. I’m not sure if he’ll be quite as stupid now, knowing he can’t force my obedience with pretty promises and false hope anymore. But I’m sure he’ll fuck up soon enough, and I’ll get to reclaim what’s mine—my life.

“You can go now,” Dax says, making me draw a relieved breath that chases some of the tension from my bones. “I have what I need. She’ll be ready for you in an hour or so.”

Zoltan kills my relief immediately. “I’m staying.”

“That’s an extra five grand,” Dax says as he starts preparing a tattoo gun.

“Fine,” Zoltan agrees. Money never was an issue for him as long as he got his way. Moving to stand by my head, Zoltan grabs a fistful of my hair while Dax turns to finish preparing the gun. He seems to be keeping a close eye on the kneeling girl, who obediently keeps her head lowered as Dax faces her.

“Sit still,” he tells her just before turning back to Zoltan and me. There’s a slight hint of worry in his expression, and I wonder if it has something to do with his girl.

When he lifts the strap that goes over my stomach, Zoltan says, “No, I’ll keep her still.” Popping his switchblade open, he presses it to my throat. The edge grazes my skin with a warning that has me going achingly still.

“That’s gonna cost you another five grand,” Dax says, releasing the leather belt.

“Fuck no, I’ve already paid you people more than enough.”

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