Page 44 of Luka

But Arseni hits me three times, and when I protest again, he hits me four. His punishment starts to occur to me. Every time I refuse, it gets more severe.

“T-take,” I say, beginning my speech, but Arseni doesn’t bother letting me finish. He starts with my punishment of five swats, the stings seemingly even more forceful than before. I try to block his hand, but he easily collects my wrists and holds them away.

I lay my forehead against the comforter as a sob rumbles my chest, the ache of his blows felt all the way in my throbbing ears.

“Spread your legs,” he says again. Same even tone. No anger. No remorse. Not an ounce of sympathy.

He doesn’t care.

He truly,trulydoes not care.

Not about my character. Not about my voice. And certainly not about me.

A dreadful realization comes over me, chilling my blood even while Arseni reddens my skin with another round of blows for my noncompliance.

I was wrong.

He was never my only hope. He was neveranyhope.

I was doomed from the start. I was…

I see Tall in my mind, see the look of shame and sympathy that overtook him when he saw the bruises around my neck, bruises I blamed him for. Bruises he felt responsible for.

Oh my God.

I chose to focus on the wrong man.

When Arseni repeats his command, this time I comply, sobs pushing drool onto the comforter as I feel my pride slip through my hands.

Nineteen years of character I worked to build, gone with a little bit of pain.

Arseni gives me no time to lay with my shame. He pushes two fingers inside of me, making me squeal while he lowers himself to talk closer to my ear.

“This is what I want,” he says, pumping his fingers until I wince in pain. He lets go of my wrists so he can use his other hand to force a finger into my puckered hole, shocking me so badly that I still, my eyes wide with horror. “But this,mi amor, is where I will fuck you if you’re bad. Comprehende?”

I nod fervently but don’t otherwise budge. My whole body is tense, squeezing both of his fingers.

He chuckles as he removes himself and gives my bottom a light pat. He massages me there for a moment, like he wants me to relax but doesn’t say so. His attempt is hopeless. I could never relax for him.

Another difference. I’m beginning to believe I’ll never run out of ways to compare the two men.

Tall could turn my body against me. He could make me desire things that I didn’t understand, make me loosen to his touch, moan at his silent demands.

Arseni? If Arseni is capable of tricking my body, I’ll never know. I don’t think he’s interested in whatever Tall was interested in.

I’m glad it was him first.

I close my eyes to this strange fact. Too many impossible things happen in my mind while Arseni’s hot, intrusive length invades me.

I wish I hadn’t angered Tall. I wish I’d used his jealousy against him, talked him into keeping me for himself instead of giving me to Arseni. Or just killing me mercifully so I wouldn’t have to endure either man.

No.

I am not a quitter. I am a fighter. Asurvivor.

And right now, the way to survive is to escape. How can I do that?

I glance at the nightstand, the obvious choice to search for a weapon. Arseni’s lighter is there, but I’m not certain what I would do with it. There’s a lamp. Trash. An alarm clock.

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