Deception and Chaos

by S. M. Soto

  I’m yanked up onto my knees by my hair so my naked body is on full display. He shoves his boot between my knees and kicks my thighs apart forcing them open, leaving me laid bare. A sense of shame overwhelms me as I drag my gaze up, blinking furiously to see past the tears. My chest wheezes in pain with each inhale and exhale. I’ve never in all my life, felt so exposed, so degraded. Humiliation consumes my body, wracking my chest with broken sobs.

  My eyes focus on one man in the group of evil men. I continue to stare emptily into his brown eyes. The blond man with coffee eyes looks mildly uncomfortable and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing in a room with these men if he obviously can’t handle it.

  “Exotic indeed.” A voice says from beside me and I flinch. His hand trails down my cheek and I tense, forcing my eyes up into a pair of thickly lashed hazel eyes. The man before me isn’t bad looking. He’s of Latino descent and smells strongly of cigar smoke. He stares into my emerald eyes appraisingly.

  “Mi puta hermosa,” he says reverently as his finger trails across my breasts. Dread tingles down my spine and my chest heaves with silent sobs as tremors wrack my body.

  “Give someone else a chance tonight, eh? Alejandro has already out bid on the last two.” The Russian man, Ivan, from earlier grunts out, scowling toward the Latin man. Alejandro licks his lips and looks me up and down once more like a predator would his prey.

  “If I could drop my bids to acquire her, I would. She’s very special this one. Indeed,” he says in his Spanish accent.

  An Asian man with pockmarks covering his face saddles up beside me and roughly caresses my breasts. Claustrophobia claws at my throat, the more men that come and surround me. It’s like I’m stuck in a bad dream, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t wake up.

  I whimper and try to move away from the Asian man’s touch—from everyone’s touch. Zuhran jabs me in the back with his knee and yanks on my hair.

  “May I, Abdul?” The Asian man asks with his eyebrows raised. Abdul looks to me then back to the man, he forces a smile then nods his head ever so slightly. Before I know what’s happening I’m shoved face down onto the floor and my legs are being held down. My cheek rests against the cool marble floor while my upper body is restrained with the heavy weight of a body, making it impossible to fight back.

  “Stop!” I scream. “Please. No!” I wail at the top of my lungs. Fingers are roughly shoved inside of me and I scream in agony. Pain tears through my lower body, and my breath forcibly catches, stopping me from breathing.

  “Please!” I choke on my sobs and sputter brokenly. Unable to move away from his brutal assault, I sob helplessly hoping that someone will stop him. Stop all of this. His nails scrape the insides of my walls. It feels like knives and sandpaper are being rammed inside me. And all I want to do is make it stop. I just need it all to stop.

  “Fuck you’re tight,” he groans.

  “Enough.” Someone calls out. His brutal assault ceases and I sob harder than I ever have before in my life. My tears intermingle with the snot running down my face, into a puddle on the cold floor. There’s a searing pain between my legs that brings a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.

  He’s stolen the last shred of hope I’ve had for myself. Any notion of escaping is gone—taken at the hands of these sick individuals. They’ve broken me.

  I’m unable to catch my breath through my blubbering, and my body is shaking uncontrollably. I let my mind wander in hopes that I can block everything out. All I can think about is dying. Right here, right now. I can’t live like this.

  I refuse to let this be my life.

  “Those whip wounds will scar. She’s damaged goods, Abdul.” Someone tsk’s from the other side of the room.

  “They’ll heal over time. She needed to learn a lesson. Danish and the others showed her.”

  The Spanish man, Alejandro, bends down to caress my face and wipe away my tears. His touch jolts me back to the present. I curl away from his ministrations as best as I can.

  “No hay lágrimas mi amor. Va a ser el mio, pronto.”

  I squint in confusion, not understanding him in the least. Shifting my eyes away, they dart around the room. The men are all back to talking and smoking with one another like I wasn’t just violated less than a few minutes ago.

  My eyes fall on the stricken man from earlier who no longer looks uncomfortable, but angry. The conversation beside me has my body tensing the closer I listen.

  “How well can she take the beatings? I’d like to give her a go.”

  My already furiously beating heart kicks up in speed. My eyes dart to the circled men speaking freely around the room. A whimper quivers past my lips, halting their conversation. Angered eyes narrow in my direction. They switch tactics, now speaking in another language. I can’t understand anything. One of the men I haven’t paid much attention to, stands before me with an evil smirk on his face.

  “If you be a good girl and survive this, you’ll come home with me.” His slurred words are thick with promise and his laugh is malicious. I’ve never hoped, or wished death upon anyone else, let alone myself, but that was before—before today.

  I’m roughly flipped onto my back, forcing the air from my lungs. I wheeze in pain, peeling my eyes open and the vile man gives me a slimy smile filled with crooked, yellowing teeth. His hands grope my body to the point of pain, making me cry out. Using my open mouth as an opportunity, he shoves his thumb inside, pressing the pad against my tongue.

  “Suck it, whore.”

  Anger blooms in my chest. It’s so strong, I don’t even think about the repercussions of my next move. My jaw clamps down on his thumb, my teeth embedding themselves into the skin, drawing blood. A string of curses spills past his lips as he yanks his hand away.

  He moves so swiftly, I don’t see his kick coming until his leather shoe connects with my face. The sudden hit is jarring. Searing pain radiates throughout my skull, and I cry out in pain. Everything feels disjointed and discombobulated for a long stretch of time. I wage a war against the throbbing in my head just to stretch my eyes open, but it’s useless. He lands blow after blow on every battered part of my body. Every time I cry out, he seems to enjoy it even more—he gets off on my pain. On seeing my blood.

  After each blow, he gropes me, or places his mouth somewhere on my body, confusing me to no end. My body feels foreign, as if it’s been through the grinder, so much unlike my own. I don’t understand how I’m still alive and functioning, but I am. Even though I wish I wasn’t. My breaths come out in wheezing pants and I’m finding it harder to keep my eyes open or stay focused on anything. I close my eyes and pray for the end. I don’t want to be brought home with any one of these men, especially this one.

  My hair is suddenly wound tightly in a fist, each follicle screaming in pain as it’s yanked out. With his strong grasp on my hair, he slams my head into the marble. I hear a deafening crack, unsure if that was my skull or the marble.

  Pain explodes.

  Mind numbing pain.

  I force myself to blink, only to realize my eyes are already open but there’s nothing around me but darkness—it hangs heavy over my head, below my feet, surrounding me. The only thing I’m sure of is the throbbing pain in my skull and the darkness that seems to be impenetrable.

  Roughly, I’m jolted back to the present as the grip in my hair tightens. The man yanks my face toward his, slamming his lips down over mine. His tongue darts in my mouth and acidic bile rises in my throat, threatening to expel from the disgusting exchange of saliva.

  “Enough, Vadim. Bloody hell, keep going and you won’t be taking her anywhere but six feet under.” The man with the worried brown eyes from earlier says angrily, in a harsh accent. It’s a blend of English and Scottish. Vadim gives me a disgusting smile and tosses me back onto the floor. My body falls back lifelessly with no restraint. My head thuds on the marble and I close my heavy eyes. The distinct metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode from the p
ressure at any second. Every bone in my body feels broken, as throbbing pain radiates throughout my every limb. I distantly listen to the monsters in the room converse around me like they didn’t just watch a man beat me half to death. My mind drifts to my brother Garrett and tears spring to my eyes, resting heavily in the corners.

  Will he ever know what happened to me? Will I ever see the only family I have ever again?

  I know the answers to those questions, and my heart aches at the realization.

  My rock.

  My lifeline.

  My big brother Garrett.

  I’m so sorry, Gar.

  There’s an abrupt panic of voices outside of the room we’re in. The voices grow louder—erupting in chaos. I crack my eyes open and look around. The men look confused and frightened all at once. I consciously recognize the voices are coming from the lower level of the house and get louder with each passing second. Suddenly, there’s the unmistakable sound of gunshots coming from the floors below. Screams of panic ensue as more pops of gunfire ring out in rapid succession.

  “Fuck!” Muhammad bellows.

  I watch in a haze as the men in the room move in a flurry toward the elevator, no doubt trying to escape whatever madness is happening. None of them spare me a second glance as I lay here motionless on the floor watching everything unfold before me. I make a solid effort to move, but every muscle and bone in my body protests, screaming in pain.

  The room empties out, and all that’s left is the sound of popping gunfire and screams. I’m vaguely aware of footsteps coming from somewhere in the room. I muster up all the strength I can and turn my head toward the noise. The English man with coffee eyes is the only one left in here. He strides over to me purposefully, his gaze darting every which way like he’s making sure the coast is clear. He bends at the knees and assess my wounds. His brows furrow and when our eyes meet, several emotions flash across his face.

  “Blokes did quite a number on ya. Can you tell me your name?” Hope unravels in my chest.

  Is he here to help?

  Trying to swallow past the dryness in my throat, I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

  “My name is Finlay. I’m gonna cover ya up, doll.”

  I slowly blink and watch as he grabs a fur throw off the seating area and covers me with it like a blanket. Finlay lifts my body into his arms and I groan in pain.

  “Fuck!” He curses in a harsh tone. Suddenly, Finlay drops me back onto the floor, bends down beside me again and says something into his jacket sleeve. I can feel my consciousness slipping. My eyes are a burden to keep open, but I fight. He gives me a panicked look as I close my eyes. I can faintly hear rushed voices, and stomping footsteps.

  “Hawk4 it’s clear. Body count, forty-four. Female badly beaten. Not sure she’ll make it.”

  “American.”

  “Hawk12 to fire, whenever you’re ready.”

  The conversation makes no sense. I try to understand what’s happening, but my brain can’t comprehend anything. Pain shoots through my body as I’m lifted into someone’s arms and I whimper, trying to crack my eyes open. The thudding sound of multiple pairs of boots against the floor prod me to peel them open.

  A group of men are leading the way in front of us dressed in all black gear with vests and guns strapped to their bodies. My eyes drift up to the man holding me and the dull beat of my heart stutters in my chest. I’ve never been one to believe in angels, or fate, or any of that. How could I when my family was so cruelly taken from me? When I was so cruelly taken from my brother? But right here, in this moment, I want to believe the man holding me is an angel, sent to save me, not just another monster here to ruin me.

  I can vaguely see his face under the helmet and goggles that are obstructing my view of him. What I can see is light stubble, a strong jaw, and dark, heavily lashed eyes. Right in that moment, he looks down and I’m met with the most intricate pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. I can’t tell if they’re gray or the color of crystal, all I know is the color is hypnotizing, and comforting. He stares at me for a split second before he looks back up and keeps carrying me out of this hell. My eyes flutter closed once again.

  Slipping in and out of consciousness, I swear I can hear my brother Garrett’s voice somewhere pulling me from the heavy weight of sleep that continuously threatens to pull me under.

  Why was I hearing Garrett?

  Am I dreaming?

  I try to open my eyes, but I’m still bathed in this never-ending haze of darkness. Summoning all my strength, I try again, doing my best to peel them open even for a brief second. The dark leather interior of a car comes into view. I’m vaguely aware of my body resting horizontally on the seats. The same plush, fur throw from earlier is still covering my naked body. Slowly, my eyes shift to the two men who are in the driver and passenger seat, dressed in all black. Blinking past the fog, my gaze slowly drifts to another man sitting in the seat right next me, and there’s the distinct voices of men in the seat behind me.

  “What happened to her back there?” The man next to me asks. He sounds so much like Garrett it makes tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

  I might see him again if I survive this, I tell myself.

  “Cunts. The lot of ‘em. They used and beat the poor bird to with an inch of her life. If I hadn’t spoken when I did, they would’ve had her six feet under by now.” Finlay says somewhere from the front.

  “Sick fuckers. So, fucking close to getting them all! We can make it to Crest Fall in time. She’s still breathing, if we can just keep her stable, she’ll survive this and be sent into programming elsewhere.” The man next to me says. My brows furrow in a deep line.

  God, he sounds so much like Garrett. I can’t tell if I’m imaging it or if it’s real. Feeling like I’m in a dream like state I try to say something, anything.

  “Garrett,” I croak incoherently. It’s all I manage to whisper. The body sitting next me jolts, then stills. Everything is suddenly deathly quiet until someone in the row behind me blurts, “What the fuck did she just say, Cova?”

  My head starts hurting immediately. There’s an incessant pounding in my skull—like someone is pounding a hammer on the bone.

  Why is he using my last name?

  I force my gaze to the man beside me and I want to sob as I stare into a familiar pair of green eyes. My heart stops. The air stills. This can’t be.

  It can’t be Garrett.

  I stare into the familiar green pools belonging to my brother. His eyes rake over my face showing no recognition or indication of recognizing me. I swallow repeatedly and force myself to stay conscious.

  How can he not recognize me?

  It’s me, it’s your little sister, Sophia! I want to scream, but the words don’t come. Instead, I say the only thing that comes to mind. The one thing I’ve always said to my brother.

  “Big brother Garrett,” I whisper hoarsely. He squints his green eyes and looks confused for a split second, until a flash of recognition then pain skirts across his features.

  “Sophia?” He chokes, his face draining of all color. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and I feel myself slipping back into sleep.

  Hold on Sophia. Hold on a little bit longer.

  He searches my face then chokes back a sob. I see a lone tear escape the corner of his eye.

  “Motherfucker!” He shouts from beside me. “No, not her! Son of a fucking bitch.” He growls, taking his anger out on the door handle beside him, and punches until there’s shouting from everyone else in the car.

  “Cova, get it the fuck together! What the fuck is going on?”

  Garrett stops his assault on the door and pauses a few seconds, his eyes drop to mine, and the torment I see there on his face tears me in half, ripping my tattered heart to shreds.

  “She’s my little sister.” Is all he says in a voice I don’t recognize. The vehicle is bathed in silence. The only sound is the engine and the road beneath us.

  “Fuck,” someone utters. I lose
the fight to keep my eyes open, and the darkness consumes me once again.

  I WAKE TO A THROBBING pain in my skull and a dull ache thrumming through my body. The sound of hushed voices filter around me, their frequencies going in and out.

  “Cova, you know she can’t stay here. It’s not safe for anyone, especially her, you know this! She still has a lot of healing to do, the poor girl is lucky to be alive. She should be in a real hospital, seeing a counselor to help her cope, not here. Do you realize how dangerous this is?”

  Who was that talking and where was I?

  Garrett’s angry voice is distant but still clear, nonetheless. “Don’t you think I know that? But this is my baby sister, and I’m not leaving her in the care of people I don’t know. I will do everything in my power to keep her safe. I let her out in the world once, left her to live her life and where did that get me, huh? I’m not making that mistake again. She stays by my side at all times. Once the dust settles…I’ll get her the help she needs, I promise. I just—I need her here, where I can see her.”

  The voices are slowly starting to fade. Fighting against my own body, I try in vain to hold on, to stay awake long enough to listen.

  “I have so much I need to explain to her still… I just need to know she’s going to be okay…”

  What did he need to explain? And where the hell was I?

  The voices trail off and my conscious mind slips into a tormented slumber again.

  I was in and out like that a handful of times. I would hear snippets of conversations often. It was mostly Garrett’s voice, a woman’s voice and a few other voices that were unfamiliar. It was always the same. I could never understand where I was or why people were always talking beside me.

  Why can’t I open my eyes?

  It felt like I was stuck in my own head. Stuck in the pit of darkness that I’ve been fighting to steer through. No matter how hard I tried, words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t peel my eyes open to check my surroundings, all I could do was listen. And that’s what I did.