Page 4 of Deception

With the knife clattering to the ground, I fist the thick strands of her hair tighter, relishing the scent of summer flowers that envelopes me as I tell her, “Master. That’s what you call me.”

Before she can respond, I thrash her forward, hitting the side of her head to the stone counter hard enough that she loses consciousness, blue eyes blinking closed with a wispy exhale as her flowery scent is permeated with the metallic tinge of blood.

What a waste.

2

LUCY

Spit and sweat coat my face as the chains hanging from the ceiling pulleys rattle with the breeze from my torturer’s movements. Flicking the damp rag across my cheek with zinging whip, he pulls his saliva to the front of his mouth and spits it in my face again before covering it with the cloth.

“Suka!”Bitch!

The yelled curse is partially muted in my ringing ears as he douses me in stagnant water. It’s difficult to stop myself from swallowing it down as it gurgles in the back of my throat and nose, until there’s too much and I choke.

The rag covering my face makes it impossible for me to sputter the stale liquid from my lungs. Everything burns as my wrists and ankles pull and tug against my restraints. The more I tug at the rope around my wrists, the more the loop connected to it closes around my neck.

My natural fight-or-flight instinct is in overdrive, threatening to strangle me at the same time as the gush of water tries to drown me.

Stay still, I snap at myself.

Russian curses and insults echo around me while I attempt to relax my body enough that I can gain some control over the situation. It’s what they trained me for the last seven months—to withstand every scenario I might find myself in. Waterboarding was the worst. It’s also what they’ve repeatedly done to me from the moment I woke up in this dark room. As though they know this was my one weakness.

It’s impossible. No one knows apart from the man that trained me and his superiors that sent me into that club. Time is a blur since then.

Holding my breath, I count the seconds until the water stops before I use my pent-up breath to evacuate the old water from my lungs and nose. It doesn’t matter how forceful the air in my lungs is, it’s not enough to clear my airway so I can suck in a breath before they pour another deluge over me.

“Drown, bitch,” the man grunts in his rough mother tongue.

A different man to the last time. The urge to scream my rage builds stronger and stronger, louder and louder. It pumps harder and faster through my veins until they feel like lava tracks searing through every cell of my body. My thoughts tornado while I recall all the things I’ve been taught.

Focus on the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Easier said than done. Yet, I block out the jeering and the erratic thumping of my heart, willing it to slow as I purse my lips and touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth. I press it tight as my teeth clench and my airway at the back of my nose closes with the force.

I keep waiting for fear to kick in, for something other than this anger to take over, but it doesn’t. Every ounce of my being is desperate to break free and kill.

There’s a bloodthirst inside me that is roaring, louder than ever. It’s why they chose me, because I’m my mother’s daughter and I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. She’s the real reason my father is the prime minister. The devious woman behind the great, benevolent man.

“Boleye,” the bastard growls loudly, the torrent of water heavying at his command.

I’m going to kill every one of these fuckers. One by one, even if it’s the last thing I do.

The water stops again abruptly. There’s silence as I remain still, teeth clenched as I focus on relaxing every other visible part of my body. I release my breath slowly on a silent hiss before I pull in a damp one.

The silence stretches with nothing but the drip of my hair and all the gospels that I was taught day in and day out. The rules they taught me to live by in my secret life.

Drip, drip, drip…

Bide your time.

Drip, drip, drip…

You either have a chance worth waiting for, or you’re dead, anyway. Don’t waste that chance.

Drip…drip…drip…

“I told you to keep her alive.” Heavy footsteps clunk towards me.

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