Page 49 of Savage Roses

When I try to slam a fist into his groin, he retaliates by squeezing my torso within his arms, crushing my ribcage. I cough as the aching pain erupts all over.

“You’re not a member of the society,” he growls. “A member of the society would know how to use that elevator.”

I can’t even speak. Any attempt I make comes out as a sputter from how hard he crushed my ribs.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please.”

“Please, what? Do you know what we do to intruders? You’re coming with me.”

Gene drags me along, holding me within his crushing grip. The elevator slips into the background as we set off down the black hall and I scream—or as close to as I can considering he’s squashing the air out of my lungs.

I have no choice but to bear witness to the shocking sights within each room we pass.

In one room a pudgy man in a pig mask bends over on all fours, naked as the day he was born, as a scowling, domineering woman I recognize as none other than South Valley District Judge, Anita Herrera, stands behind him and punishes him with a crop. For every lash he receives, he whines and oinks like the pig mask he wears.

She gladly brings down the crop again and again.

Another room seems to be a lounge of some type where businessmen sit bored, sipping drinks as naked women prance around and have sex with each other—and the many toys available in the room—for their viewing pleasure.

There’s a room that’s eerily empty with medical devices and a chair with stirrups, the lights off, and shadows long and sweeping.

We pass by the largest room yet that seems to be some sort of aviary. Rows of cages on either side line the room, though Gene drags me by so quickly, I don’t get a good enough look at what’s inside the cages.

But a second later, it doesn’t matter.

Nothing else matters, because I hearhisvoice.

The deep cruelty of it. The bite in it when he told me to shut up and grunted as he forced his way inside me.

Hearing the sound while being suffocated in Gene’s clutches stirs something inside me.

Not fear or panic. Not even pain.

Rage.

Instant, overwhelming rage that washes over me and blinds me. That has me jerking in Gene’s arms with renewed vigor. He struggles to keep hold of me, caught off guard by my latest fight for freedom.

The voice is coming from the room with the cages. He’s in there. He’s speaking to someone about a purchase of some kind.

I have to get to him.

Suddenly, I’ve forgotten about my promise to Salvatore.

We’re supposed to confront him together—we’re supposed to take him out together.

But he’s finally so close. He’s mere footsteps away.

This could be my only chance.

“ARGH!” Gene howls.

At last, I’ve managed one of my escape shots. I’ve slammed the shit out of his groin with every ounce of strength I have.

He lets go, and I tumble to the ground, hitting it with a thud. I’m pushing myself up just as quickly, sprinting down the hall toward the room with the cages.

It shouldn’t surprise me, yet it does.

Peoplesit inside the cages. Rows and rows of them. A wide collection of different people, I’m guessing designed to suit various tastes.

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