"At this point, I'll be grateful for your pieces."
*****
Jessica Franklin is at her wit ends, literally. With two sisters depending on her and a mountain of debts on her neck, she needs a way out before she breaks down...
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The contract is drafted and signed, and I begin to work as Zachary Donovan's escort. It isn't bad at first; all I need to do is follow him to a couple of private parties and act as his private dancer for the night. But soon, it begins to get worse. Somehow, I go from being an exclusive dancer to being his mistress, a position I loathe with all of my being but can barely do anything about because of the money it offers. If only he had kept it at that.
One day, I follow him to one of his private parties and meet a couple of men there, with me being the only lady in the room. The sinister looks on their faces tell me I'll be doing something more than just dancing, and when I turn to Zachary, he confirms it.
"I'll be sharing you with all these men tonight,"he declares, his voice devoid of remorse, his face an emotionless mask.
"I can't do this; it isn't in the contract," I try to refuse, but he grips me by my arms, squeezing them tight. Fear crawls up my spine at the act. Leaning closer to me, he whispers into my ears, his voice cold and dangerous.
"It is now, and you better do what I tell you, unless you want to be severely punished," he mutters, and I stiffen. Staring at the lustful yet evil gaze of these men, I can't help the shudder that works through my body. I don't want to, but I have no choice. Emma still isn't showing any signs of getting better, and I know better than to argue with him. The last time I tried, it resulted in me being hit multiple times. It's a memory I wouldn't want to relive.
That night turns out to be the worst time of my life. The humiliation, shame, anger, and self-loathing almost drove me crazy. The utter violation. Coupled with the things they did to me, the things they made me do, I had thought I was ready. I really wasn't. For the first time in my life, I felt thoroughly dirty and broken.
But he doesn't stop there, everyday he thinks of more creative yet cruel ways to torture and cage me, claiming it's because he finds me too irresistible. The torment and unspeakable torture I went through in the hands of men filled me with so much hatred. I could never surrender and let them do what they want and that caused me more pain than I could ever bargain for.
Pain. It's a scary thing. At first, you hate it, then you start to crave it. As the world around me crumbles, with Emma fighting for her life in the hospital and Sophie losing her mind, it becomes my only escape. Call me crazy, call me deranged, but I long for the days when I am treated as a discarded toy, tossed aside with callous disregard because it gives me a temporary escape from seeing my sister's suffering and not being able to do anything about it.
Every day, the hate I feel for myself grows because on those days when I have such thoughts, all I can think of is how pathetic I am to allow myself to descend to this level, no different from my mother who was stuck in that rut with that monster of a father. It feels like I am being punished for my sins, sins I have no recollection of committing.
After what seems like forever, Emma starts to respond to treatment and I can finally breathe again. Forgotten are my scars, my hurt. I bury them deep inside of me and focus on nurturing her and Sophie back to life, doing my best to care for them so they at least don't end up like me. It is all I can do to keep myself from going crazy.
