Page 48 of Inferno

I wave at him as he retreats, swearing in Russian under his breath.

Over the last five years, I’ve picked up words and phrases. Important ones anyway.

I’m a girl from Chicago. But I’m a fast learner, especially when it comes to survival.

My phone pings on the side and I pick it up, recoiling as my husband's name flashes across the screen.

V

check in.

Me

All fine.

V

good. Can’t wait to get you home.

God, he makes me feel physically sick.

As I sink down on the bed, I can feel his hands on me. Suffocating me.

I’m a toy to be used. And when he’s pissed off, I’m there to be punished.

No safe words. No way to escape. I just have to take it.

And if he thinks I’m not enjoying it, he makes me act like I am.

I hate every second of it.

I’d rather be strung up and tortured.

I wonder what it would feel like having Jimmy touch me. The way he is so open about what he wants.

The fact he wants to give it to me, not take it.

I believe everything happens for a reason, no matter how shitty it may be. And I am certain I was meant to cross paths with this man.

My soul is telling me to go to him.

Fuck it.

Just this once, maybe it’s my turn to take what I want from a man.

One night to experience real pleasure.

Life can’t get much worse for me, maybe I need one night to be free from my chains.

Experience a normal life, even if it is pretend.

Maybe this is what I need to survive.

A real man.

I take a quick glance in the mirror and wrap my fingers around the bottle of milkshake I bought on the way back to my room.

To hell with it, I’ll go in a black bikini set and skirt.

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