Page 4 of Choke

“Shut up. If he doesn’t kill you, I will.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Disgust is a bullet I fire at myself, but I can’t stop my tirade.

“You think you’re special? You’re not. You’re insignificant. Those women you saw? Just the tip of the iceberg.” I step closer, my face right up to hers, my breath hot on her skin. “The only thing keeping you from that kind of brutality is us. So how about you stop being so ungrateful and shut your fuckin’ mouth?”

“What do you want from me?” she demands. “Am I supposed to get down on my knees and beg to suck your cock because you’ve exchanged my disgusting, filthy cell for one made of logs? Should I be happy that I get to piss in a pot in privacy instead of having others peer at me? Shall I thank God that He has put my life at risk with His benevolence for humanity? Tell me what you want from me because I promise you’re unlikely to get it.” She tilts her head toward the discarded knife on the floor. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you may as well grab that knife and spill my blood.”

Her words are fists connecting with every vulnerable part of me. Blow after blow meant to maim and eliminate.

“Here.” Mona moves closer and brushes her lips against mine.

Her taste is a summer breeze tangled with a frigid snowstorm. Her hot tongue pokes out, demanding entry into my mouth. My lips part for her, and her tongue slips inside. A surgeof adrenaline consumes me, knocking me down and pulling me under like powerful waves in a turbulent ocean. I don’t worry about my partner watching while I kiss a virtual stranger. All I can think about are her soft lips against mine. Is it possible to siphon someone’s strength through a kiss?

When she pulls away,I’m heady, breathless, and terrified.

I turn to Callum, who stands in silence, an uncomfortable interloper forced to watch.

Then Mona says, “You can join in, too, you know.”

5

MONA

My life was a fucking mess from the moment I was born. I learned the harsh realities of life and the tough choices necessary for survival at a young age.

Those hard roads and hills, which require a strenuous climb, are far more difficult for women. Not because we aren’t capable but because we’re forced into additional roadblocks on the obstacle course known as life.

I’m not naïve enough to believe that offering these men the only commodity available to me will save me from something far worse, but I hope it will at least buy me time to figure out an escape plan. Then again, considering how I ended up here, my escape plan might need some serious rethinking.

Being snatched off the street by a man in a black car two weeks ago was terrifying. Although I was blindfolded and in a padded room, I was looked after. I had a comfortable bed and hot food, and my captor seemed kind and didn’t wish me ill will.

But I wasn’t about to wait around to see if Mr. Lady Napper’s good nature suddenly became twisted, and he did all kinds of ungodly things to my body and psyche. So, when the opportunityarose, I ran. Guess something more important came up, which made him forget to secure the room.

My escape worked beautifully… until it didn’t.

Only me, Mona Baran, could escape one captor and be caught by another.

I found myself on the road and waved down the first car I saw. Lo and behold, instead of taking me to the police station, the driver took me to a private plane, flew me to God knows where, and delivered me right into the hands of evil.

“Are you done?”

I turn my gaze to Callum. I hope he’s seething after witnessing his man kiss me. I hope his blood is boiling with rage. A part of me hopes he’ll put a bullet in my head to save me from what is undoubtedly a fate far worse than anything he could do to me.

Callum laughs, making me feel like a child placated by an annoyed parent. “Is that all you’ve got, little girl?”

His voice drips with condescension and wry humor. I have the urge to punch him hard enough to wipe the amusement from his eyes and the arrogant smile from his mouth.

But I play the game instead.

I drop to my knees, my face level with Atlas’s crotch, and glare at the big Scotsman.

Callum steps toward me, his eyes never leaving my face. He stands behind Atlas, slides his hand to the front of his black slacks, releases the button, and lowers the zipper.

“Listen, darling,” Callum whispers, pulling down Atlas’s boxers to expose his long, thick shaft. “I have a fondness for games, especially those as risky as chicken.”

Callum grips Atlas’s dick and points it directly at my closed mouth. “Open up, or I’ll assume you’re all talk and no action.”

A sane person wouldn’t willingly suck her captor’s cock. A sane person would regret poking the bear. But I’m not sane.

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