by M Dauphin
“Your phone’s going ape shit in here, man!” Tatum hollers from the foyer. I smile to myself and stand up, walking towards my phone, prepared to finally get the pictures that Sarah promised to send me of the kiddos.
“Here,” Tatum says, tossing it to me. I unlock it and hit my messages that’s holding a bright red 5 on the top, telling me I’ve missed five damn messages in the five minutes I’ve been outside, and my heart drops.
“No fucking way,” I growl, almost dropping the phone.
“What?” Tatum’s standing in front of me, hands on his hips, but I can’t take my eyes off the screen.
My girl. My fucking Red… on stage. The first picture is innocent enough, though even innocence from a stranger like Zeke is enough to make my blood boil. Her makeup is done up like something out of a porn movie. The clothes they’ve put her in are skimpy as fuck… but the thing that rattles me the most is the look in her eyes.
She’s drugged. He fucking drugged her! I’ve seen that blank look and it only comes from being fucked up on mother fucking drugs!
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” I growl, handing over my phone to Tatum who moves quickly to get the images projected on the screen for everyone to see.
I’m not a fucking fan of everyone in this room seeing my wife like this, but if it’s going to get me closer to her then I’m down for doing whatever it takes.
“Hot damn,” one of the interns from the far side of the room whistles as soon as the images come up on the large screen at the front of the room. Without thinking I storm over to him and grab him by the throat, lifting him from his chair and slamming him against the wall.
“What’d you fucking say about my wife?” I growl, applying probably too much pressure to his throat but I don’t give a fuck.
“N-n,” he stammers. “Nothing,” he manages finally.
“Get the fuck out. I never want to see your face again!” I bellow, throwing him to the ground. I spin and look at the now silent room. “If any of you fuckers have any issues with finding my wife like a grown man and not like some fucking horn-dog college kid, you can get the hell out of here. Next man that makes a comment about what these assholes did to my wife in these pictures will be met with the blunt end of my fucking gun. You got that?” My fists are tight at my sides and I’m sure I look like a fucking madman, but I’m not going to tolerate anything being said about my wife.
“Come on, man, let’s get to work.” Tatum takes my elbow and guides me away from the men staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. I sit at the computer and start digesting what’s happening to Red.
She’s fucking stripping… or dancing at least. The heels and hair and makeup and fucking outfit tells me that much. Why the fuck would she do this? Doesn’t she know I’m coming for her? She just needs to hold on a little while longer!
“Hey, I know that place!” a man announces from the front of the room.
“Who the fuck said that?” I shoot out of my chair and look around, seeing Carl, a local tech from Tatum’s crew, timidly raising his hand. “Where? Where is she?”
“Well, I mean…” he trails off and looks around the room. “Can we talk in the other room?”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, storming out of the room and waiting for Carl to follow. Once he makes it, he clears his throat and starts talking.
“It’s a strip club,” he mutters.
“Yea. I fucking got that. Where the fuck is it?”
“I mean… it’s stripping…. And then some.” He watches me for a reaction, clearly scared after how I reacted to the kid earlier.
“And then what?” I growl.
“Sex?”
“Sex?! Sex, Carl?! Is that a mother fucking question?!”
“I mean… not everyone… maybe…”
“Carl, have you ever fucking been to this place?! How the fuck would you know it’s for sex?!”
He nods sheepishly and curses.
“You’ve purchased sex through this club?” Tatum growls from the doorway. Carl nods slowly, staring at the ground.
“I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know the Diaz family owned it. I’ve always dealt with a Harmon… I had no fucking clue.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, shaking. “She’s at a fucking prostitution ring!” I yell to Tatum who’s been watching everything.
“What’s the name?” he growls, watching me to make sure I don’t break anything.
“The Hit,” Carl mutters. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he repeats. I shake my head and growl.
“Get out,” I whisper, sending Carl running towards the door.
“Don’t fucking bother coming back to work. No man of mine will be buying sex from anywhere,” Tatum yells after him. “We’re gonna get her this time, Eddie.” He walks towards me and clasps his hand on my shoulder. I can’t take my eyes off the floor. I can’t fucking believe he brought her to a fucking club to dance and be bought for sex.
“I’m going to burn him alive,” I growl. “Get every man you know. Every fucking man on your team. We’re going to need the big guns this time.”
Gwynn
Zeke called the doctor in here a few minutes ago, but since then it’s just been him and I waiting for someone to meet us in this tiny room. I’m trying to hide my shaking; not wanting to give away my nerves, but it’s no use. He sees me, like always, and grins a creepy-ass fucking grin while leaning against the wall.
“You should fucking be scared,” Zeke growls from across the room. “You’ve been a pain in my fucking ass since the minute I laid eyes on you. You know,” he pauses and chuckles. “You know, I was the stupid one that thought you’d actually learn to love me and I could keep you as my own. But this,” he nods to his arm. “This tells me you’re just as big of a cunt as any one of those girls out there.”
I narrow my eyes at him but keep my mouth shut. I need to save all my energy for when I rip his balls off.
“So you’re now stuck here. I’m washing my goddamned hands of your filthy ass,” he mumbles, walking across the room to the door. Cracking it open, he turns to look at me. “You’re going to regret ever crossing me, Red. You almost had a perfect life… now…” he trails off and smiles at me, then a rumble starts slow from his chest, soon erupting into full-blown laughter. “Now I’m going to make a fuck ton of money from you.”
He leaves the room, slamming the door behind him making me flinch, and I try to hold my composure, though it’s no use. A tear streaks down my face as the thought of my future weighs down on me.
Eddie isn’t coming.
I’m about to be sold to a man to do God knows what to him.
I’m never going to see my kids again.
Well… This shit isn’t going to fucking fly. I don’t fucking pity myself… I’m a fucking fighter! You can’t break me, Zeke fuckwad!
I let the tears fall for ten more seconds then wipe them free. Tears will get me nowhere in this fucking dump.
If I’d have just had my phone in my pocket like normal when Zeke took me I would have been able to call when I woke up. Then again, if Eddie had taken out the trash that morning, none of this would even be happening.
I shake my head. This isn’t Eddie’s fault, nor is it mine. It’s Zeke’s…. it’s all Zeke’s fault. And now I’m his toy, to use as he wishes until the moment I can bring him down.
The door creaks open slowly and I watch as the man walks in. The ‘doctor’ as Zeke called him. He’s old, and I’ll bet any amount of money that he’s not really a licensed doctor.
“Let’s have a look at ya,” he mumbles in a thick Spanish accent. He reaches out and helps me up, his touch gentle and caring; much less domineering and angry than Zeke’s touch. It still makes me want to murder him, though. Everyone involved with Zeke will burn when I finally get a hold of them.
As he examines me, poking and prodding at parts of my body I’d rather never have open to the elements, Zeke walks in. A low whistle comes from over by the door and I immediately tense up, closing myse
lf to him. Fuck.
“No need to be modest with me, Red,” he hums.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I growl, hands shaking.
“I call you whatever the fuck I want to call you. You’re my goddamned property, Gwynn. You got that?” He narrows his eyes at me before walking over to the doctor. I’m lucky I didn’t just get hit for that one.
But I guess if he wantsto sell me off,a healthy woman will make him more money than a beaten and battered one.
“So what are we looking at?” Zeke approaches the doc, talking about me like I’m a piece of fucking cattle.
“She’s good to go tonight. All she needs is an outfit that’ll cover that gnarly bruising there, Z,” the doctor states, pointing to my ribcage.
“Yea,” Zeke huffs, running his hands through his thick hair. Jesus… Eddie used to do that. Fuck I miss him. “I’ll have Patrice find her something.”
Patrice. I’ve heard that name before. I think she’s a dancer…
“Good. Then I’ll give her some drugs to keep her going and she’ll be good to go.”
“I don’t need drugs,” I growl. “I’m fine. Nothing hurts.” Drugs will make me weak and slow. I need to be on the top of my fucking game tonight.
“Oh, Gwynn,” Zeke laughs. “It’s not for pain. It’s to make sure you don’t try to do anything stupid. Again.” He chuckles and then leaves the room.
I tense when I see the doctor go for the bag.
“I’m not taking drugs,” I growl.
“You’ll do whatever the boy tells you to do, or you’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere, girl.”
“I’m not fucking doing drugs!” I cry.
“Yes, you are,” Zeke announces, walking back into the room with four other men behind him. “Boys. Table.”
“No!” I bellow backing against the wall. “No fucking way,” I growl, ready to fight.
“Jesus Christ, everything is a battle with you.” He shakes his head and the men walk towards me, but I’m not going down without a fight. I swing at one of them and when I miss, he grabs my arm and twists it behind my body, forcing me to submit before he breaks it.
“No!” I wail, kicking and screaming as the four of them drag me to the table and pin me down. “Fuck you,” I growl as Zeke comes close enough to my face that I can feel his breath on my ear.
“You’re going to regret never giving into me, Gwynn.” His whisper is filled with poison and I want nothing more than to buck the men off me and attack this sick mother fucker, but the minute he pulls away I feel the needle pierce my arm and a cool burn slowly makes its way through my arm.
Holy shit.
“What the hell is this?” I hiss, trying to wriggle out of the grasp of these men.
“A small amount of PCP… just to make sure we aren’t going to lose any more limbs tonight.”
I growl but by this time the drugs are starting to take a hold of my system and my body involuntarily relaxes and a tear slips out of my eye.
He’s turning me into one of his fucking sex zombies and I have no way to fight him anymore.
I lie there, allowing the drugs to take a hold of my body, unable to do anything else. The only wish I have now is that it helps numb my mind so I don’t have to think about what’s about to happen.
“She should be good to get dressed now, boys, without putting up a fight,” Zeke says from somewhere in the room. I can’t take my eyes off the ceiling. I can’t fucking believe this is happening.
I make a move to get off the table but my body is moving ten times slower than I’m telling it to. What the fuck did they just give me? Finally, I swing my legs over the table and stare at them. They don’t fucking look like my legs. They aren’t moving like my legs.
Fuck me.
I feel hands start touching me, pulling off the clothes I’ve been in for way too long, to clean me. It doesn’t bother me.
It feels good.
When they’re finished, I’m dressed in something else… all the while staring at my damn legs wondering why they aren’t doing what I’m telling them to do.
Makeup is next, and from the amount of time it takes them to apply it I’m sure I look like a fucking circus freak.
“Up,” a voice barks to me and I slowly look across the room. Zeke is standing there, stern-faced, glaring at me.
I move to stand and almost fall but the man next to me grabs a hold of my elbow to steady me.
“You need to figure out how to walk on this shit, Gwynn,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m going to need you to be able to move yourself or the men out there get pretty fucking pissed. They paid for a good time.”
I look up at him, confused, but the small hint of panic in my gut is wiped away almost instantly.
“Okay,” I mumble, then look back over to Zeke.
“Let’s go,” he barks.
It takes me a few tries, but sooner than later I’m able to walk myself across the room.
“Just move for them. They like you to move,” he whispers, tucking my hair behind my ear. I slowly nod, then follow him out to the stage.
The music pumps, the women next to me all seem to be moving ten times faster than me, but I keep up. I dance for hours; or so it seems. I dance until the crowd in the audience starts to bulk up and I’m no longer just dancing for me and the two men here. I’m dancing for about ten. Maybe more.
The song slows and two of the girls walk off stage and I start to think that maybe I should too. I don’t know how long I’ve been up here, but I’m tired and I’m ready to take a fucking break.
“Hey,” I hear Zeke in my ear and turn to see him, directly next to me.
When the fuck did he get up here?
“How you feeling?”
“Why do you care?” I mumble, taking stock of my body. I’m starting to get some of my regular nervous system functions back, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him knowthat. Maybe if I can make him think I’m still fully drugged he won’t be ready for it when I kick his fucking ass.I can definitely still feel it in my system, but I’m starting to feel more like myself
The drugs are definitely wearing off.
“I never stopped caring, Gwynn,” he whispers, his dark-as-fuck eyes locked on mine.
Fuck he’s so goddamned hard to read!
“I’m tired,” I mumble, keeping up the methodic slow movements.
“I have someone that wants you,” he whispers, pulling me to the side slowly.
To buy me. He has someone that wants to fuck me.
Fuck to the no.
I shake my head and look at him but he narrows his eyes and nods ‘yes’ at me.
“That wasn’t a question,” he growls.
I plant my feet. No matter the amount of drugs in my system, I will never sleep with another man.
“Now!” he barks, and points in the direction of the private rooms.
At this point he is either going to drag me kicking and screaming, or I can save my energy and go willingly. I mean… if I go with him and am put in a room with a strange, probably gross, old man… I can fucking beat him.
This is my out.
I nod and slowly start to move, the minute I pass Zeke he grabs my ass and pulls me back to him. I gasp and freeze.
“Try anything stupid in there and I’ll kill you,” he growls in my ear.
I shake him off and trudge towards the room.
I’ll fucking kill him.
He guides me into a room off the main hallway, away from all the commotion of the club, and slams the door behind me.
“Well…” the man in the room with me startles me and I spin to glare at him. He’s old, balding, and fat.
I can fucking take him.
I walk over to him, eyes half closed, breathing slowly, and assess the situation. There’s all kinds of sex shit hanging from the walls… shit I’d normally be excited for if it were Eddie and I in the room together. In here, with this man, it makes me fucking rage.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” he c
roons, standing from the dingy bed. “I won’t bite,” he whispers, making it across the room to me, then leans in and nips at my ear. “Whoops.” He chuckles and my blood boils.
I give him a sheepish grin, lowering my head.
“It’s just… this is my first time,” I whisper and he immediately whistles.
“Hot damn, Z didn’t tell me it was a virgin he was giving me.”
Giving? As in he put me up for fucking free?! No fucking way, not after he made such a fucking big deal over how much money I’d make him. Am I just a fucking game?! Jesus Christ!
“Well, come on now. I don’t have all evening.” The man grunts and pulls down his pants, whipping his dick out in front of me and I see red. Blood. Fucking. Red. “You should taste it.” He smiles this creepy-ass smile at me and I put on the best show I can….
“Only if you’d like,” I whisper, playing the ‘virgin’ card.
This fucker isn’t going to know what hit him.
I go to my knees in front of him and smile up at him.
“I’ve never done this before.” I smile and take him into my hand, wanting nothing more than to beat the ever-loving fuck out of him right now.
But I can’t.
He groans when my hand starts stroking him; with each stroke I want to vomit.
“That’s a good girl,” he croons, taking his now hard-as-hell dick in his hand. “Open up.” He points it at me and I do as I’m told, slowly letting him fuck my mouth. When he lets go and rests his hands on the top of his head, letting out a groan as I take control, I make my move.
I grab his balls, gentle at first, then in one swift movement squeeze as hard as I fucking can and bite down so hard I feel skin breaking.
The wail that comes out of him sounds like he’s dying… he may be. I’ve never really researched what happens when you bite into a dude’s penis at the same time as squishing his pearls, but I’m sure it hurts.
The taste of blood fills my mouth, and as much as he’s pulling on my hair to get me off of him, I’m not budging. The more he pulls, the more I bite. I’m not sure I’ve even known my jaw had this much strength behind it, but it’s life or death and I’m not going down without a fucking fight.
