Page 10 of Quiet Confessions: Part Two

Now, I’m spiraling.

“We’re getting them back,” Cal says, grabbing my head to make me look at him. “You’ve kept me calm. You’re allowed to lose your shit. Don’t borrow trouble, though. Dad needs Pay alive, Nate. That’s what I’m holding onto right now. I’m going to call Dad and show some interest in some meetings he has coming up. See if he invites me along in the interest of grooming his future heir.”

“Mafia heir.” Kian sneezes, and as ridiculous as it is, my lips twitch.

“And then what?” I ask, feeling weary of the rollercoaster of emotions I’ve been feeling. “I need to see our next moves. I thought I was fine just winging it, but I can’t. Not now that I know what’s on the line.”

“I’m going to find out what’s in these warehouses,” Kian says, lifting the deeds. “We’ll keep you in the loop now that you know more, okay? Naïveté isn’t doing you any favors anymore.”

“I appreciate that,” I mutter. I feel like I’m going to be sick as I think about everything that could be happening to Patience. I really wish that things could go back to the way it was two weeks ago.

Everything was perfect back then.

Chapter Five

TWO WEEKS LATER

Time has gone by steadily, and a lot of it is spent in the cage. My thoughts whirl with what ifs, but I refuse to cry again. Tears aren’t going to help Rooke, me, or anyone in here with us. Instead, I fold them all away tightly in a box to look at later, when I’m safe with the people that I love. I need to be strong now, which means that I can’t indulge in sadness, or self loathing, or guilt.

Fuck, there’s so much guilt to stuff away and hide. There’s been so much wasted time between Kian, Cal, and I. I wish I’d made Ki see me as someone that he could have a relationship with, instead of fighting me every step of the way. I wish I had done so many things differently. If I had tried harder to figure out what my father was killed for, or been more careful, maybe I wouldn’t be here.

There have been more performances for the camera, both with Rooke and solo. I almost prefer the solo work, because I can pretend I’m at work as I work a vibrator or butt plug for the men in the room. It’s no less degrading when they grab my ass to expose me more, but I can pretend to be someone else in those moments.

It’s not perfect, but I’m just trying to survive here. I’ll put all of the broken parts of me together once we’re free, and hope that they fit back together again. This is yet another dream, but it’s one that’s helping me through.

Rooke's whiskey eyes see too much when we perform together, his whispered apologies pierce my heart, and it’s hard to keep the tears at bay in those moments. Having sex with him reminds me of better times, happier times, and it feels like sludge that’s trying to infect my memories. It’s at those times that I want to burn the world down for both of us.

Isabella has come into the holding area a few times, speaking harsh words and insults. She’s training some of the teens that are in the cage with us for service, and it makes my stomach turn every time she pulls them out by their hair, yelling obscenities. They’re so young.

Some cry for mothers that they’ll probably never see again, sometimes in another language. Others are more stoic, simply gritting their teeth against the pain. I wonder what other horrors those girls have seen in their short lives.

I, unfortunately, usually see her after a scene while I’m half-drugged.

“Look at you, whore,” she snarls, after sending everyone out of the room under the guise of training me for the camera. Pulling my hair back roughly, she smacks me across the face. “All of this beauty is a sin against God. You flash your breasts and pussy for strange men, and you deserve all the cruelties this life has to give you. I promise there will be many. I have big plans for you.”

Isabella is pretty, in an older woman type of way, but her crazy makes her ugly. I can tell by her words that she’s jealous, and sometimes she’ll slip and call me Chastity. I don’t know who this girl is, but I wish for her sake that she is far away from here.

Isabella’s insane and appears to be someone everyone obeys. No one said a word about the bright red handprint on my face as I left the room. As she appears to be so religious, I hope there’s a fiery pit in Hell for her.

“Hey,” Rooke whispers, touching my face. “Tonight is going to be hard, Spider told me. Are you ready for this?”

Rooke seems to have this special connection with Spider. It’s not at all sexual, but the man with the kind, amber eyes will always try to make sure we have basic clothing in the cages.

Spider is a little kinder than the other guards when he escorts me to my performances, and I never end up with bruises from how rough the guards tend to be.

He also attempts to tell Rooke when something in our routine is about to change.

“As ready as I can be,” I whisper back. Rooke’s lips capture mine, and it’s hard, desperate, yet filled with love. I haven’t known this man for long, but his soul speaks to mine.

I’ve seen the dark moments, and now I’m sharing some of them too. It’s extremely humbling to go through an experience like this with someone, knowing no one else will know what this is like.

It’s strangely bonding, so I cling to his arms as we kiss.

“I love you so much, baby girl,” he murmurs into my hair as he kisses me. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”

This feels more like a prayer than a promise, and I hold him tightly. I can’t break, so I force myself to breathe, pushing back the fear and anger. I hold onto the love I have for him so he’ll hear the truth of my words. “I love you so much, Rooke.”

“I love you too, Pay. Remember, no matter what, I’m here.”

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