Chapter 8 Pain

CASSANDRA ~*~ And it was just like every other day. For most of the day anyway. Normal, hand sliding up my rear end, forcing a smile and pretending this was acceptable while still not sure if this or that, that being his revolver, was the better way to spend my evening. “Marco.” The owner of the dreaded hand reminded me. “Case,” I replied, trying to keep things short and sweet. I hated when they tried to talk to me, and something about this man gave me the creeps. It seemed like the girls parted like the Red Sea when he was around. Nothing too obvious of course, but their paths would widen to keep them just some extra inches away from him, no one looked directly at him unless he called them over. “Just Case, am I right?” “Great memory.” I praised with absolute zero sincerity. “Well, just Case, I believe the last time we talked we were interrupted. I would love to get some… alone time with you to finish that conversation.” His eyes trailed up and down my body, and to my disgust, I could see him undressing me with them. “I’m not one of the fun ones.” I reminded him again with a shake of my head. I turned and picked up a few empty glasses on the counter beside me. “Oh, come on! You look pretty fun.” He beckoned behind me. I would have just ignored him, but it was easier said than done when his hands were on me again, sliding up my waist. I turned and pushed his hand away. “Marco please,” I muttered softly, trying to keep this thing as low-key as possible. Talking back, as I recall, was on the very long do-not-do list Christiano had given me, but as Mia had promised, no one could force me to do anything down here. Well, another aside from serving them, humiliating myself, parading myself around half naked, and giving up nearly every inch of control and self-decision for myself. Yep, couldn’t make me do a thing. His brows furrowed, “Excuse me?” ‘Just let him yell and be mad, get it all out of his system, and leave you alone. Keep your mouth shut and don’t worsen this for yourself.’ The brilliant little voice that convinced me down here in the first place tried to warn me. “Who do you think you are, WH*R*?” At a different time, I would remind him my name was Case, or Cassie, not Wh*r*. But the idea of hearing him say it one more time made my skin crawl, so I kept silent. My silence seemed to only annoy him more, and he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me closer, I did the only logical thing a girl would do when confronted by an angry mobster with another few dozen around to kill her. I swung at him with the silver platter I had in my hand. Either I reacted too slowly, or he was too quick for me because he caught my other hand gracefully and twisted my wrist causing me to drop the platter, and then swung me up over his shoulder. “Stop!” I yelled, kicking my feet and pounding on his back with my fists as he began walking. I lifted my head to look at the room behind me, everyone carried on as if nothing were happening. I noticed a few of the girls had made it a point to avoid eye contact or even leave the area altogether. “Put me down, Marco. Please, stop!” I watched the room behind me getting smaller as he carried me further away, I struggled, yelled, pounded, and scratched. “Save your strength for the fun part.” He laughed. The lights grew dimmer, and I recognized a soft, deliciously sweet smell swirling around us. “You’re not allowed to do this!” I yelled, it was almost comical, my attempting to threaten him in this state. “I’m allowed to do whatever I want.” He replied causally before dropping me from his shoulder and onto the soft cushioned floors of the pink room. “Now, this is better, isn’t it?” He took a step over me, smiling smugly. “ Let’s just get more comfortable here…” He cooed as his hands lowered his zipper merrily. Everyone has a price. My price was to stay in this place, and put up with what I knew was my life. But this? My instincts made my decision for me before my mind could step in. No sale. No f*ck*ng sale. I grunted and kicked with all of my might between his legs, a direct hit. He groaned, throwing his head back and dropping to his knees. This gave me the opportunity as I scrambled, crawling and trying to get up to my feet off the mattress and out of the room. He caught the heel of my foot and I went back down but knew better than to stop, I kicked backward to free myself from him and I got back to my feet again. I ran. Back through the hallway, stupidly back to a room full of men who would be on his side and women who had enough brains to know better than to try to stop him. I was no more than two steps back into the room when he caught my shoulder and roughly turned me around. His face came in contact with my cheek, and like a sack of potatoes, I went down. “Oomph!” I hit the ground, holding my cheek, it throbbed, and I could taste blood in my mouth. I wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. Why it surprised me so much, I don’t know. I mean, I had seen drug deals pass casually around the table, and had heard the talk of making ‘people’ disappear. These men were killed without the thought of hesitation. It made little sense that I expected them to shoot me, but not to hit me. “You little wh*r*!” He wasted no time in pulling me back to my feet and gave me a heavy shove backward, I staggered until I found a pool table behind me to steady me. I was in such a state of shock, still nursing my swelling cheek, the thought of ducking, moving, running, anything escaped me. He was in front of me quickly, his hands grabbed my thighs and forced me up onto the pool table. “Did you think you can disrespect me like that?” He sneered and pulled out a pocket knife from me. “Do you even know who you’re messing with?” I held my breath as he sl*t my bra up the middle. “I’m going to show you what’s what.” In a fury, he didn’t even bother to take the time to put his knife back in his pocket but rather, threw it to the side before pushing me again, so I was lying on my back on the pool table with my legs dangling over the side. He put a hand roughly on the crook of my neck and smiled smugly down at me. My mind was screaming. Fight! Move! Scream! Do something. But I just stared at him. We locked eyes as he stepped between my legs, pushing them carelessly apart. I could feel nothing but the hand on my thigh and saw nothing but the smug grin on his face, brooding and daring, knowing he could destroy me. “And what, may I ask, is going on here?” A very distant, yet familiar voice growled, but I was too bruised in to mind.