by Leah Holt
Machi squeezed my hand and I felt him looking down on me. I wanted to look up and acknowledge him, allowing him to see the concern and worry on my face. I wanted him to know that I wasn't okay with any of this.
But I didn't. I kept my head down and my ears open, shivering from head to toe.
“I know it's hard, but try not to listen.” His thumb drew circles over the small nub on my wrist, following the long, thick scab made from the bindings. “There are different rules for all the girls here. The ones you get, depend on you. Not all of them are being hurt, some are actually enjoying it.”
“Not all—”
Holding up his hand, he silenced me.“No. No talking.”
Biting my tongue, I listened. I did what he asked me to do. But I didn't do it for him, I did it for me; escaping was a need, and I needed to know what I was running from.
Tugging me inside, we rode the elevator in silence. I didn't feel his eyes on me again as I stood a few inches behind him.
Letting go of my hand, Machi traded it for his phone. Balancing on my toes, I tried to get a quick glimpses of what he was doing, but he kept it hidden. The only thing I could make out was the soft glow of light from the screen, highlighting his cheek bone.
The hard curve of his jaw was exposed, painted with a thin layer of stubble. A small tattoo rested on the back of his neck, the ink bold and curving. It looked like a symbol, a mark that had meaning, but one I hadn't ever seen before. It reminded me of old Chinese script, with its thick lines and sharp turns.
What does it mean?
I was drawn to the small design, mesmerized by the detail and hidden meaning. My fingers buzzed to touch it, to follow the lines and feel the inked scar. I was so tempted to ask him about it. The question sat on the tip of my tongue, burning the muscle as it rested there, unable to be heard.
Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder. I was caught. “You're already pushing the limit and we just started.”
Opening my mouth to speak, he held up a single finger. “Uh. . .” Wagging it in my direction, he continued. “I know it's hard for you to not want to look, to not ask questions, I get it. But right now—” Machi's words cut off as the elevator slowed down. Throwing his hand up, he hit the large red button, keeping us locked inside. Turning to face me, he ran his hands through his hair. “Right now I need you to just listen, that's it. It's not hard to do, it's not hard to follow.”
Not hard to follow!?
You brought me here! You did this to me!
And you want me to just allow it to happen and not ask why!?
That's not fair!
Biting my lip, I kept my voice to myself. Wrapping my hands around each other in front of my waist, I let my eyes float up to his then back to the tattered red carpet of the elevator.
“Look at me.”
I kept my head down, unsure if it was a test or not. Did he really want me to look up or did he want me to follow the rules he gave me?
“Look at me,” he said again with conviction in his voice.
You can't have it both ways!
Cupping my chin, he tilted my head up. “You want to scream at me right now, I can see it in your eyes.” Searching my face, he stroked my jaw. “It's killing you that I won't let you, I can see the razors you're throwing at me, Pixie.” Arching his lip, he smiled in satisfaction. “Good, hold that, it'll help you.”
Letting go of my face, he grabbed my hand, hitting the button to open the doors. Taking a long, confident step out, Machi pulled me behind him.
The doors had opened to a foyer, an old run-down entryway to a once abandoned hotel that was now overrun with monsters. Tilting my head to the floor, I used my peripheral vision to see what was around us.
There was no denying it, this place had once been meant for the wealthy with its gleam of decadence and refined details.
Two giant pillars sat in the center of the room, both marked with deep gouges and divots in the hard stone. An empty desk made of mahogany sat in the back, covered in a thick layer of dust that filled the intricately etched woodwork.
There. . .
My breath hitched as I spotted the double doors of the entrance. The windows were covered in black plastic that was flaking and peeling around the corners. Each door had a long gold handle with a detail of swirl sitting on the top and bottom.
That could be my way out.
Machi stopped short, whispering to me over his shoulder. “I know what you're thinking, I suggest you look again.”
He was reading my mind and penetrating my thoughts. I wasn't sure how he was doing it, maybe it was luck, maybe it was experience; either way, he knew what was running through my head.
Eyeing the door, I felt my chest tighten as I spotted the heavy chains wrapping the handles. It wasn't an escape, it was sealed shut, trapping me inside.
Starting forward, Machi jerked my arm to follow. “It's in your best interest to just do as I say. You're not the first girl to ever walk through here, trust me, precautions have been made to keep you in, not let you out.”
I didn't want to move, I didn't want to go further inside. I wanted to charge the doors and kick them open, I wanted to break the glass and jump outside.
Yanking my hand free, I gritted my teeth and stared him down. If he wanted to be a mind reader, then let him.
Fuck you!
I'm not your prisoner! I'm not yours to own or have or control!
Turning around, he tilted his head to his shoulder as his lids lowered and lips turned up. “You're wrong.” Stepping forward, he reached out and gripped my wrist. “In here, you are mine. Things have to be done a certain way, that's just how it is.”
It doesn't have to be that way. You can let me go right now, no one would know.
Taking a step back, I kept glancing at the doors. They were right there, only a few feet away. I kept picturing myself jumping through them, breaking them down and running for my life.
His fingers tightened around my wrist, eyes softening as he brought his hand to my face and brushed it over my cheek. “If you try, you'll only hurt yourself, you won't break it.” Taking another step in, he lowered his mouth to my ear. “And letting you go would be dangerous.” His lips brushed my skin, forcing a chill over my body. “I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise I'll keep you safe, but I can only do that if you listen.”
How does he do that?
How does he know what I'm thinking?
Flicking my eyes between his, I had a feeling of calmness settle over me. Machi looked like he was being honest, and right then, I believed him.
But can I trust you?
How can I put my faith in you to keep me safe?
“You don't have a choice.” He had done it again, answering my soundless words. Twining his fingers into mine, he started walking towards the back of the room. “Come, it's time.”
I could hear voices echoing in the distance as we pressed in further, feeling the dream of my escape fizzle into dust and blow away as I left the double doors behind me.
Machi tugged me in as we approached a set of curtains, putting me almost directly beside him. Leaning over, he whispered. “There's no more peeking, that's done. Not. In. Here.”
Swallowing hard, I demanded my eyes to stay static, pulling any and all natural movement from them. I was tempted to just close them all together and allow the blackness to be my savior. Only I didn't.
It was like no matter how much I didn't want to see or hear or know what was around me, I couldn't stop it. I had to know so I could find a weakness in the armor, I had to see so I could fight, so I could run. From the sounds I heard upstairs, everything depended on it.
Even with his word of safety, there was no promise I would ever hold above my own. Only I could promise myself the will to keep going, only I could give myself the word of truth.
Pushing the curtain back, I could smell something familiar, it was sweet and salty, thick and heavy. What is that? I asked myself, smelling the air again.
<
br /> Is that. . . Oh my God, it is.
It was the scent of sex.
As the realization set in of what was surrounding me, the sounds floated into my ears, causing my stomach to swirl. There were heavy moans and hard breathing, I could feel the room vibrating and the weight of body heat fall over my skin, glazing the surface like dirty icing.
Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.
Machi stopped short, causing me to bump into his lower back. His body twitched as he snapped his head in my direction, but I forced my eyes to stay on the floor and not look up.
The weight of his glare pressed down, stiffening my muscles. I didn't move.
“Machi!” A scratchy voice yelled.
“Ethan, how are you?” His body shook as the two men exchanged a handshake.
“Very good, the turn out is excellent tonight, don't you think?”
“It is.” Machi cleared his throat, his fingers fumbling around mine in a tender squeeze. There was reassurance in his grasp, a small moment of compassion that went without a visual glance or word. “How many are going tonight?”
Ethan twirled a glass in his hand, making the ice bounce off each other. “Well, without your two, we have six.” I heard the man sip his drink, sucking the liquid off his lips with a loud slurp. “Sylvan is well aware, and I'm sure you can imagine, he wasn't too happy.”
“I took care of it.” Machi's thumb rolled over the top of my palm, rubbing it back and forth. “We won't run into that issue again.”
“You're running thin, Machi, Sylvan doesn't give strikes, consider yourself lucky.”
“Let him tell me himself.” An angry growl spilled off his tongue as he spoke. “He likes to send his little henchmen to give me his thoughts, it's getting old. I've been here for how long now, two years? And I have yet to meet the man himself, instead he sends your ugly face to tell me what he thinks. I don't like it, Ethan, it won't fly much longer.”
“These things take time, Machi, he doesn't speak to every lowlife he takes in off the street.”
“Lowlife? Did you really just call me a lowlife?” Stepping in with a hard jerk, Machi yanked on my arm as he loomed over Ethan.
“Oh come on, Machi, don't take it personal. Trash is trash, you fall just outside that description, that's a good thing.”
Machi's hand squeezed mine harder, pressing bone to bone. Lifting my free hand, I tried to signal him that he was hurting me. Except he didn't notice, he kept squeezing and squeezing, using my hand as the release for his anger.
“Fuck you, Ethan.”
Laughing, Ethan swirled his glass again, holding out a finger towards Machi. “Be careful, I'd watch what you say to me. You're not untouchable, Machi, remember that. ”
I tried to keep quiet, I really did. But it felt like my bones were being crushed under the skin. Squeaking softly, I dug my nails into Machi's hand and tried to pry it free.
Both men stopped talking as their heads cocked in my direction. I didn't mean to look up anymore than I meant to make a sound. It just happened on reflex, unwittingly and by pure instinct.
“I—I'm sorry.” I whispered, dropping my head down and letting my hair fall in front of my face. Using my hair as a shield, I stared at my toes. Ethan's eyes had been just as evil as the men who worked for Machi, only blacker.
My skin bristled, my toes tingled and wriggled to take off running in the other direction. Running the tips of my nails over the pads of my fingers, I breathed in slowly, trying to calm the unsettled need to get away.
“And who's this? I've never seen her before?” Ethan looked me over, running his fingers through my hair. “Did you bring her as a gift for your fuck up?”
His long blonde hair didn't budge as he leaned in, slicked tight against his scalp, it stayed perfectly in place. A dark blue suit dressed his thin frame as his long fingers moved and crawled like the legs of a spider over my head.
I wanted to jump back and slap his hand off me. My body tensed up, my stomach bubbling in disgust. He had touched me like I was his, like he had the rights to me in some sick way.
Under hooded lids, my eyes glanced up and then back at the floor. Furrowing my brows into the bridge of my nose, my lip curled into a snarl, ready to scream at him the longer his hands were on me.
“She's not ready, Ethan, not yet.” Machi stepped between us, pushing me directly behind his back. His touch was possessive and firm, creating a solid wall between Ethan and myself.
To say I was grateful was an understatement. The fact that he stepped up and stopped that creep from touching me sent a rush through my system. It meant something, it brought new life to his words of protection and safety.
Maybe I was grasping at straws, trying to find some form of good in the man who had brought this down on me, but he didn't have to stop him. Machi could have let him touch me, he could have stood by and allowed that man to grope and explore my body.
But he didn't.
Ethan smiled, winking at me as he spoke. “You can send her to me, I'll get her ready if you can't handle her. I'd be more than happy to take her off your hands.”
“No,” Machi barked, wrapping his hand around his back to pull me in closer. “This one isn't yours to claim, I brought her here without orders from Sylvan. Besides, have I ever needed your help? She'll learn, just like all the others.”
Others?
“Mm,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Does she have a name?” Licking his lips, his eyes pierced mine. I hadn't realized that I had let them drift up again, darting my eyes back to the floor, I pressed myself into Machi's back.
“Pixie.”
“Pixie, huh? Does she have wings?” he asked with a sinister giggle. “I bet she wishes she did so she could fly out of here.” Leaning over, Ethan's eyes rode my body, sending a shiver up my spine. “She looks like typical street trash if you ask me. Where did you find this one, a whore house?”
I was supposed to stay quiet, I was supposed to keep my eyes down. I didn't, not after that.
“Fuck you asshole! You don't know me!” Lunging forward, I slapped his glass from his hand, knocking it to the ground. “You're fucking trash!” Sucking in heated breaths, I clutched my fists at my side. I wanted to strike him down, I wanted to turn my words into knives and cut him where he stood.
Ethan's eyes filled with black fire, burning me as I stood there. The room didn't quiet down, everyone around us either didn't notice my outburst at all or they had ignored us for a good reason.
Arching his lip, Ethan bared his teeth. “You better teach this little whore how things work around here before I do. That was her only one, her only error. If she does anything like that again, Machi, anything. . .” Fixing his jacket, he ran his hands down the front, smoothing it out. “I'll do what you can't. I'll fix her dirty fucking mouth and make her wish she had been a good girl. Teach her well, teach her right, or you'll both be wishing for another chance.”
Machi scooped me in, pulling me firmly inside his strong arms. “Touch her and I'll fucking kill you.” Holding me close to his chest, I could hear his heartbeat. Thud after thud, the pace intensified, crackling against his ribs.
Looking up at him, his sharp jaw had jetted out to the side, his nostrils flared wide and his eyes. . . His eyes were filled with rage, condemning the man who cast threats at me.
I let him hold me, I accepted the protection he was granting me. Curling into his chest, I pressed my palm against the rigid stone of his stomach. My fingers stroked gently over his abs as I tucked my head into his arms.
Harbored inside him, I felt safe, I felt untouchable in his grasp. And to my surprise, I liked it, I enjoyed being wrapped up in him.
“She's not yours, Ethan, and she's not his. I brought her here, she's mine.”
“Fix her,” Ethan growled, bringing up a hand to adjust his tie. “Or you won't have a say in who she belongs to at all.” Turning on his heels, he kicked the glass on the floor and stormed off into the darkness.
Machi kept me pulled in ti
ght, watching him as he disappeared into the room and dissolved into the blackness.
Stepping back, he yanked me off his chest and wriggled his fingers into my hair. “You just made a mistake.” Lurching forward, he kept his fingers in place and dragged me behind him. “A big fucking mistake.”
Chapter Seven
Machi
She's going to get us killed.
Dragging her behind me, I walked quick and fast, not even caring if her feet were touching the floor. Imperial was on a mission of destruction, her body being the first to go if she didn't stop her fucking outbursts.
These people were bad, they would torture her, they would beat her and scar her with more than just physical wounds. Her mind would shatter into a million pieces and she would never be able to put herself back together.
What if she helps them to see? What if she turns out to be my downfall?
No. I won't allow that to happen.
Watching the crowd, I kept my eyes open for Ethan, trying to make sure he was long gone and had found his way to his perch to watch the show. Glancing towards the rafters, I could see his face as he spoke to a man cloaked in shadows.
I assumed it was Sylvan, the man who had welcomed me in, who had given me compliments or reprimand on my work, always using the mouth of his pigeon. No one ever saw him, not unless he decided you were worthy of his time.
After everything I had done, his door was still closed to me.
Well, what he thought you did. That fucking bastard.
If he only knew how far I'd go.
Ethan was the least of my worries, he was just another fly hovering over a piece of shit; a toy, a frail set of hands to do Sylvan's bidding.
I didn't really give a shit about what he thought, he could like me, he could hate me, it didn't matter. I could destroy him without breaking a sweat, and I planned on taking him out too—when the time was right.
But he wasn't the reason I was there. It was the man he retreated to like a dog searching for praise, Sylvan was the man I was after.
It took me way too long to get this far. Two years of my life had already been spent in this godforsaken place. I wanted to get out, I was ready for this all to be over, but not until I finally got to meet the man in charge.
