Pennies (Dollar #1)(4)

I’d learned quickly with their boots in my stomach and fists in my face that everything I trusted was a lie.

“Down here.” The man pointed at the left corridor.

Padding in the chosen direction, I shivered as the softness of the carpet did its best to comfort me. The hotel was the perfect backdrop of nothingness. The temperature hovered at comfortable, so I never shivered or sweated. The lights shone an even illumination, so I never squinted or strained. Every sense controlled until I forgot what the wind felt like on my skin and the sun’s rays upon my face.

Would I be allowed outside now?

Where is he taking me?

The man paced in front of me, pushing open a door to the old gym. The hotel must’ve been a four-star establishment, once upon a time, before it’d been bought and shot to ruin.

Entering the female changing room, where ivory tiles had turned grimy and ancient hairdryers hung like gas masks, I stopped for further instruction. Hanging on the wall was a garment bag, zipped but translucent, showing a white dress. Even from here, the pearled bodice and diamante scarf draped on the hanger spoke of finery not welcome in such a downtrodden place.

The man behind his Venetian mask muttered, “Shower, do your hair, and get dressed. I’ll collect you in one hour.”

One hour of primping?

For what?

He leaned in close, smelling of fried food and beer. “Don’t get any thoughts of running.” Cocking his head, he stepped back as two other girls entered the space. “Ah, company.”

The recent arrivals’ shepherd pointed at matching garment bags on the opposite wall. Their dresses were black and grey. “Get ready, both of you.”

Just like every facet of sensation was stolen by regimented air, heat, and approved stimuli, so too were our wardrobes. White, black, and grey. Monotones with no spectrum of colour.

My handler nodded at his lion-masked colleague. “You stand guard. I’ll tell the boss we’re almost ready.”

The girls glanced at me. I glanced at them. We all glanced at the men who held our fate in their dirty clutches. The urge to ask what would happen burned my tongue. But I didn’t. Not because I daren’t or lacked the courage, but because I already knew the answer: the cold laughter, the mocking undertones, and the cryptic reply meant to terrify rather than console.

No, I wouldn’t ask.

But my conclusion didn’t reach the girl closest to me wearing a tatty pink sun-dress with tangled blonde hair. “Why are you doing this? What’s going to happen to us?”

Venetian Mask looked at Lion. Together, they advanced on her, backing her against the tiled wall. They let the force of their aura batter her rather than physically maul, leaving me to think they’d hurt us to control us at the beginning, but now, we were worth more unmarred.

After all, what good was merchandise if it was ugly and bruised?

“I told you already. You’re going to be sold, pretty angel.” Lion stroked her cheek. “You’re going to be chosen and transacted, and when that sweet, sweet money lands in our hands, you’ll be gone. Bye-bye. No longer our concern.”

The other girl with lacklustre red hair tripped backward, her mouth parting in a silent wail.

As if they didn’t know? As if they’d spent the same amount of time as I had locked and alone and didn’t see something like this coming. Perhaps, I’d read too many dark books or watched too many crime shows on television. Either way, I wasn’t stupid, and I definitely wasn’t na?ve anymore.

Just like I would never go to university to finish my psychology degree, these girls would never return to their lives. Unlike me, who blamed her mother for her mess, they might blame a bad boyfriend or idiotic decision of drinking too much and trusting the wrong person.

No matter what led us here, we were on the same journey. Just with different destinations, determined by whoever bought us.

Turning away from the tears and laughing captors, I stripped from my shorts and t-shirt, placed my precious toilet paper words on the counter, and walked straight into a shower. There were no blinds or screens. My nakedness remained on display as I turned on body temperature water and squirted un-scented shampoo into my hair.

Being nude in front of strangers would’ve petrified me a month ago.

Now, I no longer put stock in such things because I had no control over who looked or touched or ultimately raped and destroyed.

Don’t think about that.

Gritting my teeth, I lathered shampoo into bubbles. No aroma or comfort came from the soap. I missed my watermelon body scrub and raspberry lip-gloss. I hankered for fizzy drinks and a soft fleece blanket after a long day of studying.

What I wouldn’t give to smell again. Hear again. Feel again.

While the other girls mourned their lives and feared their future, I welcomed relief. I was glad this stage was over. Another hour in that room would’ve driven me completely mad. At least this way, I had something to do, someone to challenge, someplace else to go.

And who knows, maybe I’ll find a way to escape.

The noise of the shower as I held my head under its stream blocked all sounds. I kept my eyes closed while lathering my hair and didn’t turn until I’d washed, used the razor provided to shave, and wrapped yet another threadbare towel around myself.

The men and their masks had gone, and the women had copied me, each taking a stall and dutifully but tearfully washing.