Page 111 of Poisoned Pawn

I try not to look at what the two men are doing to the young girl they are holding, but Fraser steps forward, snatching hold of my chin and forcing my head up so I have no choice.

“What does Carter know?” he demands.

I stare straight ahead, but I’m not seeing the girl or what is happening. My mind has shut down and is somewhere else completely. I pray to God, any fucking god, for forgiveness for what I’m about to do.

She screams again, but it’s met by laughter and whispered words of perversion and vile promise.

“I asked you a fucking question. What does Carter know? Does he know about tonight?” Fraser’s fingers tighten their hold on my chin, squashing my lips together in an almost pout.

“Fuck you!” I say, the words coming out like a growl forced up from my throat.

Fraser snarls, snapping my head to him and raising it to look into his eyes. “Wrong fucking answer,Anastasia,” he sneers, slapping my face then turns me back to watch.

But I don’t watch. I lock my mind away somewhere else, somewhere safe, while they torture and assault her.

Rook steps in before they go too far, realising that I’m not going to give them what they want no matter what they do. Fraser isn’t happy Rook put a stop to it, and it gives me a look at the dynamics of their relationship and their character.

Fraser is ruthless and would happily have subjected that girl to anything if he thought it would give him the answers he wants, but Rook is smart.

He understands that I know what he was trying to do, but I’m not a scared little girl anymore. If he’d have tried this ten years ago, even five years ago, he may have got what he wanted. Not now though.

“What the fuck you doing?” Fraser demands, releasing me and stomping toward Rook.

“She’s not going to give anything up, Fraser. That’s if she knows anything in the first place.”

“You ain’t going to find out if you fucking quit before we get to the good bit,” he sneers in Rook’s face.

“Get her out of here,” Rook barks to the two guys, who look just as pissed as Fraser. They drag the girl toward the door, her clothes torn and bloodied and her head hung down.

I wish I could feel relieved, but I know that they’ll do what they want to her anyway without the audience. Just like I know they would have even if I’d given up what I know.

“Have you at least found the fucking sister?” Fraser asks, his voice low but I catch it.

Rook shakes his head. “No, but I’m working on it. For now, we go ahead as planned. You take your guys to meet Pavel and leave Carter to me.”

“And Lennox?” Fraser asks as Rook turns to leave.

I keep my expression blank, dropping my head to my chest as I continue to listen in on their conversation without giving anything away.

“Taken care of, Fraser. She”—I see from under the curtain of my hair as Rook points to me—“is nothing more than incentive and a way to twist the fucking knife in for Carter. As Erica will be.”

Footsteps draw closer until I can see Rook’s shoes toe to toe with my own. A hand wraps in my hair and slowly raises my head. He grins down at me.

“I can’t wait to see how long Carter holds out later while you suffer the same fate as that poor girl. And to think, you could have saved her so much pain if you’d just answered the questions.”

He lets me go, and he and Fraser walk out the door.

Alone, guilt cuts through me with ease as I process what I just let that poor girl suffer to save another, and I let the sobs break free, silently wracking my body.

But this is different to back then. I wasn’t sacrificing someone I love. I was sacrificing myself to prevent others from suffering. I was a child, and I was scared. I thought that by submitting to their demands I was helping the other girls, but all I was doing was giving the men what they wanted. Indulging their vile perversions and sick fantasies. The other girls never thanked me, and most of them weren’t so quick to return the favour.

I may not have been there long, but it was long enough to leave a bone deep scar on my soul, physically and mentally, and even emotionally to some degree. It stunted my ability to emotionally connect with people, particularly girls.

A little while later, loud voices and heavy footsteps reach me from outside the door as they pass by. As silence fills the space again, the door creaks open, casting a sliver of light from the hall before a shadow fills the doorway.

“It’s game time, Anastasia.”

I visibly shudder at him using my old name, and he chuckles because he knows the affect it has on me. A second guy unlocks the cuffs at my ankles then wrists, and I consider the possibility of making a run for it.

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