Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
I tore my way through five strips of bacon before moving on to the most delicious spicy sausage I'd ever tasted. The breakfast was protein-heavy, and I wondered if Andrés had remembered what I'd said about being a meat lover.
Or maybe he was just trying to keep me slow and sleepy with all this heavy, salty food, because by the time I'd devoured everything and downed a jug of water, I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.
I was so tired, my brain weirdly fuzzy and slow. My thoughts were still firing, but not in as many directions as usual. My emotions—which should have been spinning in response to my dire predicament—were oddly subdued.
Idly, I wondered if Andrés had decided to drug the food, but I didn't believe he'd do that. No, he much preferred physically demonstrating my helplessness. As he'd said, he didn't need to use drugs to keep me compliant.
I wasn't sure how long I lay there, stray thoughts gliding across my mind from time to time as I settled into a state on the edge of sleep.
The click of the bedroom door opening roused me, and I sat bolt upright. I let out a little yelp at the sudden weight on my bottom, and I scrambled to cover my body with the sheet when I saw Lauren standing at the threshold.
"I just had breakfast," I said when I saw the cart she was pushing into the room. "I'm not hungry."
"I'm not here to bring you food," she said, her voice a hollow monotone. She was looking right at me, but her deep green eyes didn't spark with any emotion whatsoever. I might as well have been a statue she was talking to rather than another woman. She wasn't here to help me, even if she was a victim. She worked for my captor, regardless of whether or not she'd been brutalized and broken.
"Then what's that?" I asked warily, eyeing the items on the cart. There was a small silver pot and a stack of cloth strips, as well as what looked like cleansing wipes. I had no idea what I was looking at.
"Wax," she replied.
"Wax?" I repeated, still not following. Why would she have wax?
Something sparked in her eyes for the briefest moment. My stomach twisted when I registered it as pity.
"For your pussy," she replied bluntly.
I pulled the sheet all the way up to my chin and squeezed my thighs together, ignoring the flare of pain as I shifted my weight.
"No," I refused, sharp and immediate.
"I'm really good at it," she said, something like kindness softening her tone. "It will barely hurt. I do it all the time."
"Nope. Uh-uh. Not happening. You can leave now."
Her brow furrowed. "I can't do that."
"You totally can. Because I'm not getting my... I'm not getting waxed down there."
"You mean your pussy," she said, eyeing me strangely.
"I mean my lady parts, yes," I replied, my voice higher than usual. "They're not getting waxed. So you can go now, and take that shit with you." I gestured at the cart.
"Master Andrés doesn't like cussing," she said, setting the cart next to the bed.
"I know," I said bitterly, shifting my weight off my aching bottom. Something awful occurred to me. If Lauren wasn't my ally, was she my enemy? "You won't tell him, will you?" I asked desperately. I didn't want him to take me back into that scary room and hurt me again.
"No," she promised, her gaze softening with sympathy. "Just don't do it again, please."
I nodded, knowing she would probably get into trouble if he ever discovered she was keeping my transgression a secret. He was cruel, insane. What would he do to her if he found out she was showing me the smallest kindness? After my punishment last night, I was beginning to understand why Lauren was so compliant.
"Does he hurt you?" I asked quietly. "I don't want him to hurt you because of me."
She blinked at me, surprised. "Master Andrés is nice," she asserted for the second time.
"Okay," I said slowly, trying to wrap my mind around her warped headspace. "But does he hurt you? You can tell me. He hurt me, too."
"I wish Master Andrés would take care of me like he's taking care of you. You're lucky."
"Are you listening to me?" I demanded, my patience slipping. "I said he hurt me. He's not taking care of me."
She glared at me. "Do you want to be downstairs with the rest of us? Where they dose you with Bliss and make you beg them to rape you? Master Andrés is honest. He's fair. He's kind."
I bit my tongue to hold in a frustrated tirade. Lauren had obviously been driven mad. Through my frustration, guilt and pity twisted my gut. Piecing together what she'd revealed, Lauren was being regularly drugged and violated, but not by Andrés. I knew from my investigation that Cristian Moreno was involved in trafficking Bliss and using the sick drug to capture and sell women.