Page 37 of Can You Take It?

I roll my eyes, ignoring her sarcasm. “Just go.”

Luna laughs softly. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, boss. I’ll keep our little suspect safe.”

Chapter 13

IZEL

I’m lounging in the living room, feeling restless and out of place. Luna, the cheery cop with a penchant for oversharing, is seated nearby, chattering away as if we’ve been friends for ages. She’s trying to bond, form some bestie connection, but she couldn’t be more off the mark.

I’ve mentioned more than once how much I despise humans, and if there’s a category I loathe even more, it’s chatty women – especially the ones who are all sunshine and rainbows. Luna’s the poster child for everything I can’t stand.

She’s been telling me endless stories about her dream of becoming a cop, how her father was one, and how it’s been her goal since she was knee-high. As if I give a fuck about her life story.

I’m struggling to maintain my cool, my eyes are stuck on the god-awful floral pattern of the living room curtains. Why she thinks I give a shit about her family history is beyond me.

The flowers on these curtains are so distracting, like a mess of colors, that I can’t escape. But it’s better than thinking abouthow I got Charles killed. Now, I could have killed him, but why soil my hands when one devil can feast on another?

Charles was the worst kind of scum. He sold me into slavery so many times I lost count. It was always up to him when the touch of other men would stop affecting me. Each time he decided to hand me over, it was like a fresh wound. His death doesn't make it all go away, but at least now he can’t do that to anyone else.

Luna, being the persistent chatterbox she is, decides to probe further. “So, Izel, tell me about your parents. What are they like?”

“Oh, they’re just the life of the party, really. Always so understanding and supportive.”

Luna’s smile wavers a bit, probably sensing the sarcasm but not willing to give up. “That sounds nice. I’m sure they’re proud of you.”

I scoff at that. “Proud? Oh, they’re absolutely ecstatic about my life choices. You could say they’re ‘dead’ proud.”

Luna’s brow furrows in confusion. “Dead proud? What does that mean?”

I offer her a grin that’s anything but cheerful. “They’re dead to me.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback by my cynicism. Luna is the kind of person who expects butterflies and rainbows in every life story, and my bleak outlook is probably throwing her for a loop.

“Well, you certainly have a unique perspective,” she says with an almost patronizing tone. “But I’m sure there’s more to the story. Sometimes, it helps to talk about these things.”

I roll my eyes. Luna’s right about one thing – there’s definitely more to the story, but it’s not something I’m eager to share with a chatty cop who can’t take a hint.

“You know, if you ask Rick politely, he might get you off those cuffs,” she says with a smile that could rival the sun.

A scoff escapes me. Politeness? That’s not my style. I’d rather rot in cuffs than grovel for his favors.

“You don’t know me at all, do you? I won’t be begging anyone for shit.”

She looks taken aback, like she genuinely thought her little tidbit of information would be a game-changer. It’s as if she believes everyone can be won over with a smile and a few pleases and thank-yous.

I can’t stand her blind optimism, her naive belief that everyone can be swayed with politeness.

I’m struggling, trapped in a nightmare that refuses to end. The room feels suffocating, my cries and pleas bouncing off the walls, unheard. Tears stream down my face as my voice trembles with desperation. I beg them to stop, to let me go, but my words are met with cruel laughter.

“Please, please just let me go. I won’t say anything, I promise,” I plead.

One of the men leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear as he taunts me. “Come on, sweetheart. You know you want this. We’re just having some fun.”

“Fuck you!” I scream, trying to muster any courage I have left, but it only seems to amuse them more.

The other man, equally depraved, grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. He slaps me, the sting burning through my skin. “You’re not going anywhere, baby. We’ll do whatever we want.”

“Please, please stop,” I sob, my body shaking uncontrollably.

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