Page 43 of Pushed

Only I didn't. I allowed their conversations to flow in one ear and out the other, I forced myself to disregarded the words being spoken and pretend like I wasn't listening.

But I heard everything, I took in every single cruel laugh and horrid reference about the women they were discussing. And I kept my mouth shut, not once allowing my anger to show on the outside.

The group ate and talked, laughed and joked. And I just sat on my knees, with an empty stomach and hatred filling my chest.

Fucking douchebags, stupid degenerate pricks!

The cold edge of a plate slid into my leg, knocking me out of my trance. Looking down at my side, a plate of eggs with a roll and bacon was sitting on the floor beside me. Tapping my shoulder, Machi leaned down and spoke into my ear. “We're all done, you're allowed to eat now.”

I was tempted to look up, but I couldn't. I stared at the small dish while ice hit my heart and rage bubbled deep inside. Glancing at the other women around the floor, their fingers picked and ate, filling their ribbed frames with scraps.

This. . . This is it, I've had enough.

Slowly rolling my head, I glared up at Machi. He didn't notice, he was too engulfed in whatever nonsensical discussion he was having with the man at his side.

Rising to my feet, the room's multitude of voices all dissolved into silence. Holding out the plate, I spoke sternly. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Slamming the plate down, I laid my palms flat on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Pixie,” he demanded, jerking his shoulders back and gripping the trim of the table. “Sit back down.” Each word came out forced as his teeth bit down and his eyes glowed with disbelief.

“No!” Flipping the plate, the food popped off and spilled over the glossy lacquered finish. “This, this is fucking degrading! I will not eat like a dog at your side, I will not take your scraps and make it seem like it's okay. I deserve more respect than that you fucking asshole!”

Standing quickly, Machi loomed over me, shadowing my small frame. “Sit back down or so help me—”

“Or so help you what?” My hand flew to my hip as my leg cocked out to the side. “I'm not a damn animal and you can't treat me like one.”

A man at the head of the table held his finger up. “This is unacceptable, Machi, and you know it. She shouldn't be here if she's not ready.”

Machi's lip curled up as his eyes dimmed and head tilted a hair into his shoulder. He didn't look back at the man or nod to him in agreement; he just stared at me, clutching his hands at his sides so tight his knuckles were white.

“Who's ever actually ready for this? What the hell do you do to these girls to make them so compliant? This is wrong! This isn't right!”

“Pixie—”

“Do you drug them? Do you—”

Throwing his hand out, Machi cupped the nape of my neck and pushed my face down onto the table.

Drawing in a loud gush of air, I gasped in surprise. My eyes scanned wildly around the table, not actually focusing on one face, but seeing them all in a blur, like the wind capturing a tornado of falling leaves.

Their faces swirled together, their eyes blending into one dark mass as all of them glared at me like they wanted to jump the table and spit in my face.

Lowering to my cheek, his free hand smacked loudly beside my head. “I warned you,” he said, whispering the words into my ear. “I warned you and now I have to punish you. These men need to know that I'm in charge. I told you I didn't want to have to do this, I told you that you had to choose; pride or freedom. You better hope you still have freedom left.”

Tears instantly sprung to life, rolling off my cheeks and splashing the table like raindrops on the sidewalk. “Go on then, do it, fucking kill me. I don't give a shit, I won't do this!”

From the corner of my eye, I watched the group smile and laugh. One man whispered something into the ear of the woman on his lap. Her cheeks blushed and she shyly tucked her face into his chest.

Taking in a solid breath, I heard the wind echo in my ears as I pushed the air back out. The table clouded over in a white haze, blocking out the mirrored reflection of all the faces surrounding me.

Just do it already! Get it over with!

Bearing down on my teeth, I glared up at Machi, ignoring the tears that wouldn't stop falling. I wanted him to see me, to not have the luxury of only having to look at the back of my head.

Let him see my eyes gloss over, let him watch the color drain from my face; he was the one who would have to live with that memory, and I was praying it would devour him from the inside out.

Laughing lightly, he pressed his face against mine. “I'm not going to kill you, Pixie.” The sharp edges of his teeth gently plucked my lobe as a huge grin smeared his face. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't now, just because you told me to. What you want doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is what you do. . .” Breathing heavy over the shell of my ear, his voice morphed from dark to sinister. “Maybe after this you'll finally understand.” Sliding his hand down my spine, his palm rolled over the curve of my ass.

Splayed over the table, every single face devoured me with a wide cavernous smile. Eyes twinkled and glittered, reveling in the torment that his control was about to extract from my body. They begged for more, they craved for more; while I anticipated the end.

I didn't want to see them, I didn't want to watch the look on their faces or their tongues dragging over their lips like I was dessert being served on a silver platter.

Closing my eyes, Machi's voice dropped to barely audible as he spoke one last sentence into my ear.

“Try not scream, Imperial, it only makes them want more.”

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