Chapter two

CHAPTER TWO 

Pain erupted from all over my body. My fingers shook as I gently probed the wound on my cheek, wincing at the searing pain that shot through me. I could feel the blood flowing out of it and it made me cry harder, on top of that, my side throbbed with a dull ache, and I feared they may have broken some ribs. They left me alone probably realizing if they continued hitting me, I could die. Moments passed before the door groaned open again, flooding the room with harsh, blinding light as more men entered. Their faces held no emotion, their eyes cold.

"Get up! all of you!" one of them barked, cocking his gun, eliciting screams from us.

I cautiously rose to my feet, limping with each step, the chains on our feet clinking with every movement. The room felt even smaller as we were led toward the door like a group of helpless animals. We came to a stop in the middle of an open floor, in a single line like we had been trained to do any time we moved out together. I was still in pain but I made sure to stay quiet. 

The man who I remember looking at in confusion when he showed up at my door with two other men appeared before us, a lit cigarette in between his fingers. They looked questionable then, with dark clothing, tattoos and matching scowls, now I understood why. He had been polite until my parents introduced us, after that, he had snapped his fingers for the men to grab me and my parents said nothing, they continued to look at him as if he had hung the moon, not sparing me a glance even as I was dragged away.

“I see that some of you are getting ideas, thinking you can one up on us?” He said, bring the lit cigarette to his mouth, his voice filled with amusement. I felt his glare trained on me but made no move to lift my head.

“Let this be a warning to anyone who thinks she can play smart, I have no problem making you disappear, after all I can replace you, I own each and every one of you, don’t ever forget that.” He said, the warning clear in his voice. 

The sound of heels against the floor drew my attention, but I didn’t dare lift my head as it was forbidden to look the men in the eyes. A woman in gold dress and bright lipstick made her way towards us. The gold dress accentuated her curves making her look straight out of a fashion magazine.

“You are late Victoria,” the man with the bald head and tattoos covering half his body glared at the woman, jutting out the butt of his cigarette in her direction. She scowled at him in return, making a show of flipping her hair and rolling her eyes. In a second he was on her, his fist wrapped tightly around throat, as he angled her face towards his, purposely blowing the smoke in her direction. Victoria immediately began coughing, as she struggled to breathe from the smoke and the hand around her throat.

“Hey hey listen, because I let you have free reign here doesn’t mean you can disrespect me! Show some respect you whore!” He growled in her face, she kept clawing at the hand around her neck, her face turning slightly red but he didn’t let up. 

The men around who had also heard erupted in laughter, making crude comments about the woman and hooting after their supposed boss. I saw a flicker of fear pass her face before she quickly schooled her features. With a sultry smile, she whispered in his ear, and he visibly relaxed, his lips curling upwards in a grin. They shared a kiss, his hand still in her hair and the other firmly gripping her behind. 

He released her after a moment, making a show of slapping and squeezing her behind, before turning his attention toward us, “This is Victoria. She's in charge of ensuring that you look presentable tonight, you answer to her. One screw up, and you're dead," he announced with a twisted smile before he turned and walked away, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. 

As soon as he left, Victoria furiously rubbed at her neck, she tried to disguise the way she was gulping air. After sometime, she rolled her shoulders and turned to us with disdain, her nose upturned in the air, as if we were a burden to her. She clapped her hands, demanding our attention, when her eyes met mine, her lips split in a twisted grin, as if she were mocking me. 

“Oh foolish girl. It’s so easy for you to think you can escape Boris,” she threw her head back and let out a loud cackle.

“News flash darling, you are stuck here, well up until another maniac buys you tonight.” with another grin my way, she addressed the rest of the girls. I stood in my place, her words replaying in my head.

"Okay, girls, this way," she led us into another section of the room where a group of women waited beside small dressing tables scattered with makeup and racks of clothing lined up against the walls of the room.

"Those are the showers. You have five minutes to wash up before I let these men drag you out if you waste a second longer," she said. As she spoke, the men began unlocking our chains, freeing our feet. When none of us moved immediately, Victoria clapped her hands again.

"The clock is ticking, girls!" and with that, we all clambered into the stalls, some sharing to make the most of the little time.

Minutes later I was seated in front of a mirror as two women fussed over me. One kept pulling my hair, trying to force the wild curls into a bun, cussing whenever my hair failed to stay out, while the other dabbed concealer on my cheek, a large amount that I suspected was to hide the bruises I had gotten today, that she had only cleaned with a wet rag and antiseptic. I felt like an animal being prepared for slaughter. The makeup did a good job in covering my bruises but the more I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the more repulsed I felt, I just wanted to crawl into a corner and cry.

The woman pulling my hair soon left it after deeming it presentable, to move on to the next person. 

“Oh don’t start crying now, I just did your mascara,” the makeup artist sighed in exasperation. Although she didn’t seem bothered by my tears despite her words. She just added a few more coats to my lashes and began packing up her things. 

I took that as my opportunity to ask for help, “Miss please can you help me get out of here? I was kidnapped by these men and I just want to go home,” a flicker of frustration and weariness crossed her face.

“Don’t you understand? There is no escaping this place, the sooner you realize that, the safer for you,” the small glimmer of hope I had desperately tried to cling to disappeared. Her last words were like the final nail to a coffin.

“I advice that you smile and pray that you get sold off today, besides even if you tried to escape, Boris would find you and kill you.