Page 18 of Savage Assassin

That’s the moment when I can’t keep from being sick any longer.

All there is in the cell is a metal bucket on a floor that doesn’t look as if it was cleaned anytime recently. It’s not filthy, exactly, but the stone surface looks damp, with brackish-looking water pooling against the edges of the walls from where the building is leaking. The vague scent of mold only makes my stomach rebel harder as I end up on my knees in front of the bucket, vomiting out everything left in my stomach as I grip the edge of it to keep it from tipping over.

“You look pretty,” one of the women from across the aisle calls out, her voice vaguely mocking. “You must be someone important. Too good to be in here with us.”

I can tell that it’s meant to get a rise out of me, but I don’t have the strength to respond, even if I could think of something. I half-crouch, half-kneel in front of the bucket, painfully aware of how I must look as I try to figure out if I’m done throwing up or not.

There’s a bottle of water on a rickety side table next to the wall, and I go for it immediately, rinsing out my mouth and spitting it into the bucket as I try to ignore all of the eyes on me, staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal. The water is warm and stale-tasting, as if the bottle has been sitting here for a long time, but it’s better than nothing.

Other than the side table and the bucket, the only other furniture in the room is a cot-like bed with a thin mattress, pillow and blanket. It’s otherwise entirely empty.

“What’s your name?” one of the other women calls out, and I turn around slowly, trying to calm my racing heart and decide what to do next, what to say.

There’s no harm in telling them the truth, so far as I can tell. They’re in the same predicament I’m in. I can’t understand why they seem so hostile–we have a common enemy and a common fear.

I walk to the edge of the bars on my cell, gingerly setting my fingers against them as I look at the women across the aisle. There are three blonde women, a redhead, and two brunettes all shoved into the cell directly across from me–not much larger than mine, but with six cots arranged in it and still only the one bucket. I don’t see any bottles of water in their cell, which instantly makes me feel guilty.

“I’m Elena Santiago.” I motion toward the half-full water bottle. “I could try to reach over and hand this to you? I don’t know if it’s too far–or I could try to shove it.”

The tall blonde woman nearest the bars laughs, a sound that’s almost a cackle. “Aww, isn’t that sweet. The cartel boss’s daughter offering us some water. How generous of you.”

I blink at her, startled. “No, I really–you don’t have any–”

“Of course, we don’t. We’re not asvaluableas you are.”

“I–I don’t–”

“Are you going to try to say you don’t understand?” The shorter, curvier brunette comes up to stand next to the blonde woman, her eyes narrowed at me. “Don’t act stupid, little princess. We all know who your father is, just like we all knew who Diego was, before he managed to get ahold of us. We know which cartels to fear.”

“My father would never–”

“Sell women? Sure. But he does plenty of other things. My brother died in a drug deal involving some of his men. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you? Pretty little princess. Probably a virgin, too. Well, in here, you’re cattle, just like the rest of us.”

“Leave her alone, Maria.” The redhead speaks up from where she’s retreated to her cot, her voice tired. “She didn’t ask for this any more than we did, and she’s not responsible for what her father does.”

“Oh, don’t let her off the hook that easily. Maybe not–but she’s still in a cell of her own, with water, even.”

“That won’t save her when she’s on the auction block, and it won’t make it any better.”

“No?” Maria rounds on the other woman, her back to the bars. “You mean when everyone bids on her, the virgin cartel princess, so that the ones left to bid on us are just the men who want to spend relative pennies for a woman they can brutalize? She’s going to suck up all the air in the room, and we won’t have a chance for anyone decent to buy us.”

“That’s not her fault.”

I retreat back towards the cot as they keep bickering, feeling the pit in my stomach deepen. The blonde woman is still watching me from the bars, flickering anger in her eyes.

“The guards will leave her alone, too,” she says quietly. “They won’t be allowed to touch the virginal Santiago girl, which means they’ll turn their attention on us even more. I don’t think a single one of us in this cell are virgins, are we? You’re definitely not, Maria, after that guard finished with you a few days ago. And we don’t have a fancy name to keep us safe.”

She sneers at me, her face twisted into an ugly expression. “Don’t be in any hurry to get out of that cell, little princess. You’re protected until you go up on that auction block, but after that, it’s anyone’s game.”

I stare at her, unable to think of anything to say as the horror of all of it sinks in–not just for me, but for them too. I’m only just now realizing the depths of the depravity that I’ve been dragged into–that my fears about an arranged marriage were nothing compared to all of the other possibilities out there, all of the ways that powerful men can invent to be cruel to women, and all of the ways that the less powerful ones can choose to take out their frustrations.

I can feel how close I am to breaking down completely. I clench my hands into fists in my lap, trying not to give away how hard I’m shaking. I don’t want the others to see how afraid I am. I don’t want to cry.

I want to be brave.

Someone will come,I tell myself in the relative silence after the others lose interest and go back to talking quietly among themselves.My father will find a way to save me. He won’t leave me here like this.

I can’t think about the very real possibility that he’s dead. That he, my mother, Levin–anyone who I either cared about or who could help me could very well have died in the assault, and that I’m alone now. That no one will come.

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