Page 12 of Shame

I’m cold, wet, ache everywhere, and tied to the bed of the most ruthless man I’ve ever met.

I like you.

No!

No, please don’t like me!

I don’t move. I don’t try to free myself. The cum cools and dries on my back, making my skin feel tighter. The door opens again and my heart jumps to my throat. Not again. Please.

Ivan appears before me, and it doesn’t calm me one little bit. Is he here for leftovers?

When he unties me, I still don’t move. He pulls me up, but my knees buckle, and I fall in a heap by his feet, unable to support myself. Ivan sighs and scoops me up. Wrapping a blanket around me, he then carries me out of the room.

I stare at the white ceiling, counting the lamps, wondering if I’m off to yet another shower before this man has his way with me.

I’m at twenty-one lamps, the last one a huge chandelier, when I lift my head, blink, and stare around me. We’re by the entrance.

“Can you stand?”

I try to speak, but my throat is too raw, so I nod instead. He lets me down, but I’m too weak. I fall against him, and he carries me again, out the door, down the stairs to a waiting car. A man stands next to it and opens the back door as he sees us. I’m put in the back seat and blissful silence and darkness surround me as the door is closed.

I search desperately for that other place inside me, but it’s gone. The pain keeps me rooted here, in this nightmare.

Mother, forgive me for ever leaving.

Lucas

At first, I don’t know what wakes me, but then the annoying chirping from the phone jolts me upright. I fumble for it on the bedside table as I look at the digits on my alarm.

Six thirteen in the morning.

It’s an unknown caller, but I know who it is.

“You can come pick her up now.” Ivan’s gruff voice cuts through my hazy head.

“Be there in thirty.”

I disconnect and pull the shirt over my head, hopping on one leg to the kitchen as I yank up my jeans along the other leg. I make a quick cup of coffee, and down it, much too hot, in a few gulps. My eyes tear up, but I can’t linger. They expect me to obey without delays or questions.

Taking the steps two at a time I rush down the stairs to my car and make my way the few blocks to the underground garage where the limo is parked. My stomach clenches, thinking about the girl. I’ve driven plenty of them, before and after. Some have cried. Some have had dead, empty eyes. I wonder what state she’ll be in.

The city is barely awake. It’s early Saturday morning. The rising sun hasn’t chased away the fog yet, and the skyscrapers look as if they have no foundation, their feet drowning in the mist. It’s beautiful. I love San Francisco and I’ve saluted myself many times for coming back here. Things are looking up. I’ll get to be in on the next hit. I’ll be one of the guys. More cash will come my way. It’ll be good. Gotta do some dirty work, but it’ll be worth it.

The guards nod at me, and I drive past the gate as soon as the opening is wide enough. I park right outside the entrance, turn off the ignition and hop out. The air smells clean, birds chirp. The sun hasn’t begun to heat the day yet and I enjoy the crispy slight chill.

The door opens and the giant that is Ivan comes down the stairs, carrying a little shape, wrapped in a yellow blanket. I twitch to life and open the back door so he can get her inside. Ivan puts her on the seat, slams the door shut and looks at me as if he dares me to speak.

“Got a bit rough,” he mumbles.

I look at his broad back as he ascends the stairs and disappears back inside the house of horrors. Rough. I turn and regard the tinted window that hides the girl, Carmen, remembering the whimpers. I bet it got rough. Fucking monsters.

I dread hopping into the car, I’m afraid she’ll cry, need comfort. I won’t know what to say. When I get back behind the wheel, the first thing that meets me is the stench of semen. I wrinkle my nose. Oh for fuck’s sake.

As the engine hums to life, I glance in the rearview mirror. She doesn’t stir. Maybe she’s asleep? That would be a relief. Then my chest clenches. Maybe she’s dead? Do they expect me to get rid of her? What in the flying fuck?

I pull up by the side of the road, on a little patch of gravel in a pocket with a steep slope on the other side. The view of the valley is breathtaking, but I have tunnel vision. Putting the car in park, I turn it off and twist around so I can take a better look.

“Carmen?”

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