Page 23 of Poison

A woman leaning out the door interrupted us. "Victor, we need you in here!"

Vic sighed heavily. "Duty calls. At least I'm getting paid well."

I leaned in for a quick peck before picking up another drink. "I'll see you in a bit. My sponsor wants me to mingle anyway." I downed one of the drinks and placed the empty glass on his tray before he headed inside.

Walking over to the balcony, I looked over the edge. There were chatting guests standing around, gathered around trees and flower beds. Chugging the last of my drink, I set the glass down and made my way inside.

I mingled amongst the masses, just like I was expected to do, eyeing the ones that looked the richest. Many weren't too interested in me, which just solidified my opinion that bringing me instead of a woman was a dumb idea. Still, I was happy to experience Top Hill firsthand. I thought I lived in a fancy suite, but it was nothing compared to this place.

"Holy fucking shit."

I spun around, ready to give a sexy eye roll to an adoring fan, but stopped short. My heart skipped a beat. Standing behind me was a shorter man, no more than five feet six inches, wearing a white and red suit and matching top hat. A sense of panic and the urge to run swelled in my chest as my heartbeat sped up.

"How the mighty have fallen."

Despite my efforts to remain outwardly calm, my hands trembled, and sweat speckled my brow. "Lucian."

His light brown eyes moved to my wrists, and he smirked cruelly. "Cute bracelets."

"Nice teeth."

His expression twisted into a scowl before a cocky grin split his lips. "I should be thanking you. If it weren't for you, I would have never met my husband… Well, we may have met, but I wouldn't have married him. I'm now wedded to the richest man in the city… So, I should thank you, but I won't. No, in fact, I'm going to encourage my husband to allow your sponsor to build his little club. Then, I'm going to pay to watch you get fucked in the most brutal ways allowed. By the nastiest men I can find. And they will have you, over and over and over again. By the time I'm finished paying for your services, you will be so used up that even Hobbs won't want you. He will toss you aside, where you can die alone in the Slog where youbelong." Lucien leaned in close to whisper, "I will destroy you."

My jaw began to tremble so violently that my teeth clacked together. I turned, shoving through the crowd until I found another balcony that was blessedly empty. I slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor and pulling my legs close to my chest. My breathing was out of control, and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my ribcage. There was something wrong with my eyesight; everything had phantom trails like I was high. I needed to escape.

Finally, the tears began to fall. When I wiped my eyes, thick black eyeliner streaked across my hands. Hobbs was going to be mad that my makeup was ruined, but that knowledge didn't stop the sobbing. I rocked back and forth as I fought to catch my breath. My chest hurt.

The door flew open, making me cry out in panic. But it was Vic, not Hobbs or Lucien, who stepped outside. He set down the serving tray and rushed over to me. "I thought that was you running out here." His fingers lightly brushed back a lock of hair from my forehead. "What happened? I swear if he hurt you, I'll fucking kill him." Vic was so angry, looking like he was going to charge into the building and beat the living hell out of someone.

"Just sit with me."

His fists loosened, and he sat next to me, resting a hand gently on my knee. "What happened, Isaac?"

I sniffled, "Anxiety attack. I'll be fine. I just need to calm down."

"Why?"

"I bet you've always been curious why I was in shackles."

Vic shrugged. "Kind of, but I figured it was none of my business."

I let my head rest on his shoulder. He didn't shove me off or object; he simply sat with me. How can I explain my story without making myself seem like the monster I feel like I am? "I've always had a shitty life. My childhood wasn't much better than my life now. In fact, this is better in a way. At least now I get nice things. I grew up in a place called the Slog. It's on the opposite side of the city from Sin District, and it's one of the poorest places you'll ever see. It's so poor that people don't even have proper homes; they live in handmade shacks made of scrap.

"My parents were worse than the living conditions. They loved beating the shit out of me. My mom would hit me just because I said I was hungry. They were both sadists and liked hurting me. When I was eleven or twelve, I met a boy I liked. We kissed, and somehow, my dad found out. After that, instead of punching me, he would rape me. That became my new punishment. My mom knew about it. There were times my dad would just fuck me right in the living area, and my mom would tell me to stop crying. She would say things like, "I thought you liked boys. You should like what's happening."

Vic's body stiffened, but he didn't interrupt. "When I was fifteen, I ran away. I hooked up with a gang of kids that hung around the warehouse district, Lowervill, and Sin District. We were all homeless, running from the same thing and terrified of getting caught. We had all heard the stories of the reform houses runaways were sent to.

"Eventually, the cops found us, and the group got split up. I went two whole days without food. Somehow, I ended up in the Sin District, in front of Lava Hut, that restaurant a block away from Hell's Gate. There was a half-eaten meal on one of the outside tables, and I just went for it. Of course, I got caught. I was terrified the man was going to turn me in, but he didn't. Instead, he took me home and fed me. Told me I could stay with him." I sighed. "That man was Trevor Hobbs. He was in his early thirties and lived in an amazing penthouse. It was like heaven. He bought me clothes, food, and all the other things a teenage boy could want. He never touched me, at first, not until a few months later… One day, he decided we needed to drink and let loose. So, he put on some music and kept feeding me alcohol. I danced half-naked for him. I wanted him to want me. The last thing I remember was him on top of me. That's it. Nothing else. I know we had sex; I just don't remember it. I fell head over heels for him. He made me feel wanted and desired. I ate it up because, before him, I felt like nobody cared if I lived or died."

Vic squeezed my leg in comfort. "That man manipulated you. He's a monster. He's pure poison."

"I'm the monster," I muttered.

"No, you aren't! You are a wonderful person, Isaac. He's the poison, and it's slowly eating you alive."

I was unable to smile at his kind words. "I'm not even finished telling my story."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Isaac."

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