Every last hope and stupid notion of a pain-free end evaporated.
Darryl.
“Hey, mate.” Tony slithered toward him, slapping Darryl on the back.
“Gonna have us a party, huh?” Darryl grinned. “Where is the little fiend?”
“Right there.” Master A pointed in my direction.
Darryl’s gaze fell on me, his fingers tightening around the black duffel he carried. “Hello, Pimlico. Been a bad girl, I hear.” His dirty blond hair matched Master A’s, making them brothers in sin if not in blood.
“Very bad, I’m afraid,” Master A muttered. “The minute that bastard delivers what I paid for, he’s dead. If I didn’t need his product so much, I would’ve killed him the second he entered my house.”
“What’s so good about what he can make, anyway?” Tony wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s just a boat.”
Master A snarled, “It’s not just a boat. It’s a floating city. No, it’s more than that. It’s an ark, you idiot. And I need fucking protection.”
Darryl smirked. “You finally run out of money, A? Loan-sharks gonna come knocking?”
“None of your damn business.” Master A suddenly laughed. “Let’s just say, the only sharks I want around me are the ones beneath my fully armoured yacht where I can nuke the shit out of them.”
“Good one.” Tony guffawed.
Their voices were as nauseating as razors on glass.
I hated this part. The anticipation of what they’d do. The ease of conversation between friends before they hurt me just for fun.
I looked behind them, tensing for Monty to join in. But there were no more visitors.
I should be glad. Today, I only had to entertain three instead of four.
You can do this.
You’ve done it a hundred times before.
So why did this feel so much worse?
“Right, enough chit-chat. Let’s get started.” Undoing the rope from around the coffee table leg, Master A hoisted me upright with a yank and a well-placed kick to my thigh. The moment I went from ball to straight, he let the rope dangle between my naked breasts. “I can’t believe that bastard. He touched Pim. He touched my Pim. He was about to fuck her, the cunt.”
That’s not true.
And I couldn’t unscramble why I was frustrated with that. Why did he threaten me with sex but never follow through? Had I failed in some way? Did he decide I was too high risk to sleep with?
If he was wary of sleeping with a slave girl because of diseases, he didn’t have to worry. I’d lost my virginity to this ogre and his friends all underwent tests before Master A let them near me.
“He’s gone now. It’s time for her to pay.” Darryl licked his lips, pacing away with Master A and Tony, their heads bowed together, discussing my punishment.
They loved this part—making me stew, building my terror.
They muttered and cursed too low for comprehension. Occasionally, a loud swear rent through the room, widening my eyes. Finally, when the itch of the coarse rope around my neck became too much to bear, and my fingers turned white protecting my dollar butterfly, Master A slapped Darryl on the back. “Yes, you’re right. I didn’t want to, but I’m sick of giving her so many chances.” His gaze met mine, dark and depthless. “She doesn’t want to talk? Let’s give her that wish.”
What?
What does that mean?
Tony stood back, crossing his arms as Darryl smirked. “Hear that, girl?” Pacing to the couch where he’d placed his black duffel, he unzipped it. “How cool is that?” Tugging something free, he kept it hidden as he moved toward me. “You’re the one who decided we’re not worthy of your voice. I think it’s only fair others aren’t privy to it, either.”
Master A stuck his face in mine. “You spoke to him last night, didn’t you? You whispered to that fucker as he thrust his fingers inside you. You begged for more and pleaded for him to rescue you.” His hand shot into my hair, tearing a few more stands in his outrage. “Answer me, Pim. You’ll speak to him but not to me!?” A maniacal laugh fell from his lips. “Well, not for long. That Prest bastard is gone. Our contract is signed. And he’ll never see you again and for sure never hear you again.”
Cackling like a mad beast, he snapped his fingers.
Darryl came forward instantly.
I jerked, looking between the two men and the horrendous item in Darryl’s hand.
Large shears.
The kind to cut bolts of fabric or slice through pieces of metal.
I gulped.
No…
Squirming, I tried to wriggle away, but Master A punched the side of my head already swollen and tender. I fell to my knees, clutching the carpet as the room yawed and swayed. While my kneecaps hollered and my skull fought against cracking, I was helpless to prevent anything else.
I was hopelessly lost as hands rolled me onto my back.
Knees pinned my hips.
And cold laughter filled my ears as rancid fingers pried open my mouth and pinched my tongue.
Master A’s voice whispered around me. “You refuse to talk, my dear sweet Pim? Now, you’ll never talk again.”
DEAR NO ONE,
Is it wrong that I still hate her?
After a year of being someone’s toy, I should harbour no ill feelings to those who never hurt me. I should be grateful to my mother for giving me life—even if I hate it.
I was lucky before I was sold. I had smiles and school and safety.
But that’s gone now. And I hate that I didn’t appreciate what I had before it was stolen.
He took my virginity without any pre-sex whispers with my mother or giggles over silly boyfriends. Not that she would’ve indulged me in such things. But now, we will never speak again. She doesn’t know me anymore. She has no idea what I’ve lived through. I hate that she isn’t there for me. I hate that she hasn’t searched and found me.
I hate that I’m no longer her daughter.
I’m his.
I hate that I’m gone to her, but I’m still here.
I’m still here, No One.
Fading, crumbling, decaying.
But still here.
*
DEAR NO ONE,
Today, he broke a bone for the first time. You’d think I would be more afraid, more in pain. But I’m not.
I expected this the moment Mr. Kewet killed me only metres away from my mother. The minute his fingers went around my throat and he stole my watch, I wasn’t living anymore—merely a corpse brought back to life to serve.
He might have given me CPR, No One, and saved a few years of heartbeats, but I died that day and didn’t get back up.
So what is a broken bone next to death?
It’s nothing.
I’m nothing.
I just want it all to stop.
*
“Stop the car.”
What the fuck am I doing?
That question was getting bloody old.
My fingers shook as I ripped through toilet paper scribbles, one after another. When I’d pushed my hands through the headboard last night, trying to get comfortable on Pimlico’s hard mattress, I’d found something soft sticking from a crack in the wood.
Pimlico had distracted me from that first touch, and I’d kept busy writing a note and folding her the small origami gift. However, once the butterfly was formed, I couldn’t stop my fingers trailing back to what they’d found.
I’d tugged.
And a fucking storybook spewed into my hands.
I should’ve stuffed it back where it belonged. I should’ve respected her privacy. But as the mute girl slept beside me, her breathing just as silent as everything else about her, I read a few lines.
And I couldn’t fucking stop.
I learned about her time in the trafficking hotel and a market-place called the QMB. I learned she’d lost her virginity to that raping bastard, Alrik. I learned about her hatred for her mother, her homesickness for her past, and just how desperate her world ha
d become.
My heart (that’d long ago calcified to the hardship of others) thudded for the pain she’d endured. She’d lived through more than anyone ought to face.
However, it didn’t change facts.
I’d bartered for one night with her. That was all I wanted. All I could have.
So when she’d stirred, and guilt infested me for reading her private thoughts, I’d resumed stroking her skinny back. I’d shoved fistfuls of her pages into my blazer pocket because I had no other choice. It wasn’t right to take the only possession she had in a world where she had nothing—but that was who I was.
A thief.
With deeper issues I couldn’t control.
I stole because I loved it.
But also for another reason.
Her story was mine now.
I justified the robbery by tracing my fingers over the beads of her spine, following contusions and blurs, giving her sweetness after so long of none. I expected her to flinch and wake, but she’d burrowed into the sheets, murmuring unconsciously and giving me so much fucking trust.
I’d found such reward in that. That she sought comfort in my touch even though I’d borrowed her from a master who treated her like shit.
The partition between Selix and me slid down with a soft whir. “Sir? Did you just say turn around?”
My fingers tightened over the soft papyrus where Pim had spilled her darkest confessions. “Yes. Now.”
“But…you’ll miss—”
“I don’t fucking care. Do it.”
Every inch of me craved to go home. To feel the sea beneath my feet and put this shitty debacle, including the night I spent with Pim, in my wake. But I also couldn’t ignore that she would die because of me.
She might already be dead.
He could’ve shot her.
It would’ve been kinder than other things he might do.
I’d accepted her death, believing it was the best thing for everyone. But she’d paid too much. She was owed something better before dying so damn young.
She was worth more than a bloody grave.
So fucking what no one was there for me when I’d been at my lowest? So what no one had helped me?
I could help her.
I could do the right thing…for the first time in my godforsaken life.
Her imaginary friend, No One, had cared for her up till now. And if I couldn’t protect her better than a fucking fictional entity, what sort of man did that make me?
A coward?
Cold-hearted?
Honest about the fucked-up nature of the world?
You could have her for yourself.
The thought wasn’t new. She was a slave, after all. And I was a rich bloody bastard. I could buy her from him. I could keep her locked away to use whenever I wanted with no distractions from my company.
The idea was far too appealing.
She’d be a pet.
An unseen, unknown pet. I wouldn’t have to take her for walks or give special treats. As long as she had food and a place to rest, she would have a much better quality of life with me than she ever would with Alrik.
But why would I buy her when I could take her?
I shouldn’t.
I should leave before I hurt her more than Alrik ever could. But I’d lied when I’d folded the origami butterfly with my note inside.
I couldn’t forget her until I’d taken what I needed from her. And what I needed wasn’t fulfilled yet.
I want to fuck her.
Once.
A single time.
Then, I could either sell her or free her. One thing was for sure, I wouldn’t keep her for long. It wasn’t possible for a man like me.
But for a short while…
“Yes, I’m sure. Turn around.”
“Right away, sir.”
Screw keeping business separate from pleasure.
I was a thief.
And I would steal the silent girl and make her talk.
MY HEART RELOCATED into my mouth, bouncing on my tongue like it was a damn trampoline, uncaring that the sharp shears would soon cut off the one piece I desperately wanted to keep.
Was it odd that I wanted my tongue over a finger or toe?
Was it wrong that thoughts of bargaining and offering up other parts ran riot in my mind?
Take my pinkie.
No, my index finger.
Wait…take my big toe.
Just don’t touch my tongue!
I thrashed beneath Darryl’s weight as Master A moved over my head to hold me down. Wedging my skull between his knees, he stared at me, his face upside down.
His lips moved, melding with the agony inside me.
“I promised you what would happen if you didn’t talk to me one day, Pim. This is what will happen.”
My broken hand flared as I pounded the floor and tried my hardest to squirm away. The dollar in my other palm wasn’t enough to bribe my way free.
My struggles turned violent. But there were two men and one of me—men who’d eaten in the past twenty-four hours and had muscles that weren’t atrophied from malnutrition.
I didn’t stand a chance.
Darryl grinned as he opened and closed the shears with a flourish. The blades scraped together in a sinister hiss. “You ready?”
No, no, no!
His nails cut into my tongue as he held it firm, not letting my saliva lubricate his fingers. The piece of muscle grew dry the longer he kept it from my mouth.
Don’t!
The part of me I hadn’t used in so long was on death row. My silent curse would become reality.
Even if I wanted, I’d never be able to speak again.
I’d gone into this as silence being my weapon. A choice not to talk.
Now that choice would be forever taken away.
How could I tell the police what’d been done to me if I couldn’t speak? How could I beg another to help?
My body quaked as I silently sobbed, tossing my head as much as I could in the confines of Master A’s knees.
For a few hours, I’d been in the safety of another man’s control. A man who put even Master A in his place. Why, oh why, didn’t I talk to him when I had the chance? Why was I so damn stubborn? So afraid?
I deserved this.
I’d been so stupid.
And now, I would never utter another word for the rest of my life.
At least I still had my fingers. I could write. I could tell my tale.
But my tale has vanished!
Years of stolen memories.
Perhaps this, right here, was the point where I gave up. Where I admitted I was broken and done. Maybe once they cut out my tongue, I would die from blood loss, and it would finally be over.
Please, be finally over.
It might not be as painless as the gun, but it would give the desired result.
The fight in my limbs faded. Not from accepting the inevitable, but because I literally had nothing left. I couldn’t win. I’d never been able to win. All I could do was stop and accept.
Finally accept that Tasmin was dead and Pimlico would be, too.
The moment I ceased thrashing, Darryl laughed. “Finally realised you can’t stop this, huh, pretty whore?”
You’ll rot in Hell.
My eyes narrowed as he yanked on my tongue, pulling it further from my lips.
He smirked. “How about one word for your master? One little word…”
Master A chuckled. “Yes, go on, Pim. One word and I’ll reconsider not cutting out your tongue.” He bent and kissed my forehead, his hair tickling my nose. “If I like your voice, I’ll let you keep it.”
The dilemma sat heavy.
If I did this, he’d finally won. My imprisonment would include willingly screaming or answering his torturing questions. If he broke me down to utter one word, he could do two and three and four.
He would never let me be silent again.
Or I could take my self-imposed silence for real. Like a devout reli
gious follower denouncing all monetary wealth and entering a nunnery, no longer just practicing their faith but becoming their faith.
I would be mute no longer by choice but by disability.
Was I vain enough to hate the thought of not being perfect anymore? Or strong enough to accept that it was the price I had to pay to win?
Master A’s fingers pinched my cheeks. “Make up your mind, Pimlico. You have ten seconds to decide.” He looked at Darryl. “Cut on one. If she tries to speak, let her have her tongue to do so.”
“Got it, A.”
My heart started a countdown, marking each second with dynamite as Master A said, “Ten…”
Should I speak?
“Nine...”
What should I say?
“Eight…”
What word will keep me safe?
“Seven…”
Do I truly want him to win this way?
“Six…”
How quickly will I die if I refuse?
“Five...”
Will I drown in my own blood?
“Four…”
Make a decision!
Darryl’s fingers tightened, the faint taint of copper filled my mouth as his nail dug deeper, pulling my tongue out as far as possible.
Do it!
One word.
How about: Help. Or mercy. Or please.
“Three.”
I saturated my lungs with oxygen, inhaling hard for the first time, knowing I would finally transform air into sound waves through the magic of human engineering.
“Two…”
I shook my head, eyes wild with promise that I’d talk.
The men paused, eyebrows arched, but Darryl didn’t release my tongue. “Go on, Pim…one little noise. Show us you’ll obey before you get your tongue back.”
A noise was easier than a word. He’d torn worse from me before.
I obeyed.
The tattered moan rose with rust and misuse, vibrating strangely in my chest.
Master A smeared terror-soaked sweat from my skin. “Good girl. You finally obeyed.” Kissing my forehead, he whispered, “Pity for you…I don’t really like the sound of your voice.”
Slapping my cheek, he nodded at Darryl. “One.”
He cut.
THE CAR STOPPED.
I climbed out.
The front door was locked.