Page 27 of The Devil's Secret

My face heats with shame.

“Let the girl get pants, man. Why you gotta be such a dick?”

“You’re soft,” he tells the other one. “If you don’t treat a whore the way she’s supposed to be treated, she’s gonna go and think she’s in charge.” He considers me cruelly. “Isn’t that right?”

Before I can answer, his hand flies out, curling over my stomach, pressing my back to his front. I feel the bulge there, and grit with disgust.

My brows squeeze as I stare at the other man, his blond hair illuminated by the light flitting from the lamp beside him, his body against the wall as he casually observes.

He has a young boy’s face, maybe no older than twenty. His eyes skitter down to the floor as the guy behind me pinches my nipple, his fingers climbing down, fitting them at the juncture between my thighs.

My insides twist as he presses into me there from above my shorts. The violent need to find a weapon and squeeze the life out of him overwhelms me.

Enzo.

I call to him, even while knowing he can’t hear me. If he did, these men would be dead already.

“Come on,” the blond one says. “Faro said to be quick. Do you wanna piss his ass off? Because I sure as fuck don’t.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He finally drops his hands off of me. “I don’t want her dirty pussy anyway.”

The words cut into my skin, pouring acid over the wounds already there. I fight against the sadness, running to my closet, quickly grabbing sweats, throwing it on in a matter of seconds, before slipping into my sneakers.

“Let’s go,” the dark-haired one says, waiting for me to exit before they follow me out.

As we leave my place, the morning light still flashing past the clouds, I wonder what sort of nightmare I’ll be entering into next and why there’s no mask on my face.

* * *

We arrive at a large two-story estate and climb up the three steps, the two black doors greeting us before they open. An elderly woman, her black hair pulled up into a tight bun, donning a maid’s outfit, says hello before politely letting us in.

The place looks bigger inside. The cathedral ceiling has a huge gaudy, crystal chandelier hanging at the foyer, a spiral staircase in the center.

“This way,” the man who touched me snaps, jerking my wrist and shoving me forward. We enter another room, and Faro is the first one I see, a black robe on his round, short body, head full of grays.

I’ve never been inside his home. I never wanted to be. This isn’t good. He wouldn’t have me here unless it meant something bad.

My gut flips.

“Ahh, there she is.” He extends his arms, smiling, but it never reaches his eyes. “Welcome, welcome.” He gets off from the brown leather sofa, making his way to the bar at the corner to my right, my eyes following his every move. “Drink?” he offers, but it’s not sincere.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

The sound of him pouring the honey-colored liquid into the crystal glass, his back to me, crawls up my flesh like roaches.

Something’s coming. I can feel it.

Panic swells inside me, my muscles going rigid.

The two men lock the doors behind them with a loud bang, and when I look back at them, something catches my eyes, and I gasp, my limbs trembling as I hold back a scream.

We’re not alone. There’s someone else here. Someone I hadn’t noticed before.

When our eyes meet, she smiles ruthlessly, running her nails up and down the tops of her breasts, hidden under the white robe she wears.

I need to run, to escape, but I’m frozen in place, trying not to react, even when every inch of my body is bathed with undulated fear.

What did she do!

---