Page 4 of Savage Desires

"Then who?" If the asshole wasn't the one who forced her into the scene, but someone else did, I have more than one person to make suffer. The devil on my shoulder laughs, more than happy to be along for the ride.

"It doesn't matter. I have to go."

She tries to hop off my lap, but her knees give, and if it wasn't for me catching her, she would've fallen. "Careful, beauty."

I hold her steady until she finds her footing. She pulls from my arms and winces when the movement irritates the wounds on her back.

"You need first aid. That asshole whipped you bloody."

She flinches at my words but shakes her head. "I'm fine. Thanks for your help, but I really must go."

A brunette wearing a black leather catsuit and knee-high boots strides quickly toward us. Fear flashes in my Beauty's eyes. The newcomer smiles widely, but it doesn't reach her eyes. No, those are cold and hard. She wraps a thin blanket around my Beauty's shoulders as soon as she reaches us.

"I heard you helped my little kitten out of a pickle," the brunette says with that fake assed smile still painted on her face.

"You really should do a better job of caring for your… kitten." My blonde beauty flinches. I'm unsure whether it's because I called her kitten or because I'm scolding the woman who is obviously in charge of her well-being. Either way, I feel bad for distressing her.

"Yes, well. Sometimes, kittens can be a little feral. Sometimes, they need a reminder of their place. Isn't that right, kitten?"

"Yes, Madame," she immediately responds.

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Before they can walk away, I gently grab her arm. She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and fearful. "Are you going to be okay?"

She looks at the brunette and back to me. I can see the indecision in her eyes, along with the defeat. Some part of her wants to tell me she won't be. I don't know why, call it instinct, but I have a feeling that this woman is why Hera brought me here.

"I'm fine. Thank you again for your kindness," she says quietly.

The brunette grabs her other arm none too gently and pulls her along. My blonde beauty looks over her shoulder at me as she's dragged away. I want to help her from whatever mess she's in, but tonight is not the night. I need to know what's happening here before I can do anything to help her.

Hera wouldn't have sent me here for just one woman. She would've killed the whip-wielder and rescued the woman all on her own. Hera might be a sadistic sociopath, but much like me, she doesn't condone hurting the innocent.

When I can no longer see the two women, I decide it's time to go. I need to do some research and decide how to proceed from here. I silently vow to save my Beauty from whatever danger she's in and set her free.

A wave of possessiveness burns through me at the thought of setting her free. I push that feeling away. No matter how beautiful and beguiling she is, I cannot keep her. I would break her, blackening the last piece of my soul. No, I'll get her out of danger and set her free like all the women before her.

She's nothing special.

Why does that feel like a lie?

CHAPTER TWO

WILLOW

I cling to the blanket wrapped around me, stumbling behind Madame as she drags me through the club. I barely stay on my feet when we descend the stairs into the basement where the girls like me are kept. I would say it's where we live, but what we do is hardly living. She doesn't release her painful grip on my arm until we get to my room, which is really a cell. She unlocks the door and shoves me in, causing me to fall to my knees. She slams the door and throws the lock.

Georgie rushes over and helps me to my feet. She leads me to my thin mattress on the floor and helps me sit. The mattress does nothing to alleviate the biting cold from the cement floor or the discomfort from how hard it is. It's just another way they show us that we're nothing but property to be treated as they see fit, which is badly. We are less than human to these people. They own us, and we have to submit to their every whim or suffer the consequences.

I can't help but wonder what the consequence will be for Kisten stepping in and stopping the scene. Todd Mallory is an important client. It doesn't matter that it wasn't my fault. I'll still be punished. That's how it goes here. I can only hope that it'll be a beating. Physical pain is so much better than the other ways they punish us.

Chills run down my spine, making me hiss in discomfort from my wounds. Being subjected to mental torture is so much worse than any physical pain they dish out. I would rather be beaten bloody than put in the cage. It sounds as inhumane as it is… maybe worse. You're locked in a literal cage that prevents you from standing or sitting. Most of the girls have to stay on their hands and knees the entire time they are locked up. I'm lucky to be small enough to curl in a ball on the bottom of the cage.

That's only one part of the torture. The room the cage is in is pitch black. Not an ounce of light penetrates the space. It's also completely soundproofed. No one can hear your screams, and you can't hear anything other than your own breathing. It's a total mindfuck. Maybe if they only left you there for a few hours it wouldn't be so bad, but they leave you for days at a time. There's no way to know how much time has passed because no one comes for you until the punishment ends.

The longest I've been left there is seven days. Seven days without food or water. Seven days of living in my own filth. Seven days of thinking that's how I would die. Alone in the dark, caged like a dog. It's happened before. I'll never forget the guard hauling Bree's dead body out of the room. He didn't even carry her. He dragged her down the halls by her ankle. They ensured we were all present to see what would happen if we disobeyed.

It was a lesson that will never be forgotten. However, it's impossible to avoid because they always look for reasons to punish us. Sometimes, when I'm in the dark, I wish for the same peace Bree found in death. I'm no fool. I know death is the only way out. There's no escaping this prison. For some reason, I can't let myself give up. I should be completely broken; in many ways, I am broken, but a flicker of hope is still buried inside me.

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