Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(54)

Leather Jacket said, “If you can’t do it right the first time, Ryan will do it better than you.” He came closer, leering into my face. “He’ll make sure to do it ten times better than you. Understand, puta?”

I gained enough minor motor control to nod. Just to get him out of my personal bubble.

“All right then, let’s get this party started.” He nodded at Ryan. “Go ahead.”

Everything exploded.

The girls screamed as Ryan launched himself at them. Dragging them toward the concrete wall, he pinned one with his forearm while holding the other immobile for Leather Jacket to cuff.

For the first time, I noticed iron manacles dangling by chains from the wall. Rusty and ancient, they looked like they belonged in a medieval torture chamber.

Leather Jacket worked fast and before I could move, the girl’s arms were spread wide and her ankles trapped with more iron cuffs attached to the floor.

She looked at me and my heart died for her. What the f*ck was happening!

Once the first girl was secure, Leather Jacket proceeded to shackle the other. He slapped her when she tried to pull away. She squealed and thrashed, causing more abuse to rain upon her skin.

I found my voice in the fog and screamed, “Stop!”

But Leather Jacket just laughed. “We’re the ones doing the ordering. You just wait your turn.”

Once the girls were chained to the wall, bodies pressed against icy concrete, both men came toward me, sandwiching me between them.

The girls pleaded with me to help them. I wanted to. I would. But how? I could barely function, let alone save us.

One girl wailed, “Please. Don’t do this. Let us go. What did we do? We just want to go home!”

My own misfortune from the first time I’d been Leather Jacket’s captive came back to haunt me. I’d never begged. I’d fought and it landed me in more pain.

Why did I fight again? Because it isn’t right. None of this is right!

I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m cold. I just want to go home. Where am I?

Leather Jacket roared at them in Spanish and I trembled, unable to look, but I couldn’t look away either. I wanted to imprint them to memory. Their survival was on my shoulders. I would get them free.

Leather Jacket put an arm around my neck, sticking his gruesome tongue in my ear. “Ready for day one of training, bitch?”

I squirmed, but it was too late. A needle disappeared into my arm and another hot wave of all-consuming mental oblivion sucked me deep. Down and down I went, spiralling heavier and heavier until I existed on the bottom of a rubbish-filled ocean.

Sounds warbled. Smells twisted. My vision darted from place to place, never locking on anything, always moving, making me sick with vertigo. But it was my brain I worried most for. My sharp intelligence and fierce awareness no longer existed. It’d been suffocated into tiny clouds, floating uselessly in my skull.

Leather Jacket pushed me forward and I wobbled on uncoordinated legs. “Hit them.”

Hit them. Hit them. Of course, why didn’t I think of it? Hitting them makes total sense.

No, wait.

It doesn’t. What? Why would I hit anyone? I didn’t want to inflict pain.

No!

I swallowed thickly, licking my oversized lips. “Wh—why?”

He frowned, bouncing around in my crazy funhouse vision. “Did you just ask why, puta?” He shook his head, looking at Ryan. “Rule number one. You never ask questions. Ryan. Please show this bitch what I expected from her.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

I watched in horrifying slow motion as Ryan sucker-punched a girl in the gut. She bent over, jerked to a halt by the manacles. She screamed, crying uncontrollably.

Why did he do that?

Because she’s been naughty. A child needs discipline. Yes. A child needs discipline. I should know. I suffered enough slaps while I grew up.

No. this is different. Don’t forget. Never forget this is wrong. So wrong.

Leather Jacket pulled me forward. “Let’s try this again. Hit them.”

“Hit them?” I repeated. My voice sounded far, far away as if I lived in a dark tunnel where no light existed.

“Hit them, or I will,” he ordered.

I shrugged. Did it matter to me? Why did it matter to me?

Because he’ll kill them! At least if you do it, you’ll be as gentle as you can. Do it. Protect them by hitting them.

The small nucleus of who I was wailed at the injustice. How could I stop this?

Leather Jacket said something in Spanish to Ryan the Ogre. I blinked and weaved on the spot.

“Be my pleasure.” Ryan moved at lightning speed, and the action didn’t register in my slow brain until the bone-crunching thwack of his fist connected with the other blonde. She doubled over, puking instantly.

Fuck! Get it together.

Hit them. Hit them. Stop this!

Some frantic part of me doggy-paddled against the riptide of drugs, dispersing it a little, enough so I could see glimpses of reality. Oh, God. I had to torture these women. I had to abuse women who looked like me. I had to break and do as I was told in order to save them from a worse punishment.

Hands flew to my mouth, trying to contain the rising bile. I reeled backward. “You’re sick. Let them go!” My wide eyes flew to Leather Jacket in horror. “Please. Do what you want with me, but leave them alone!”