“No, no!” Perla begged. “Por favor, tell him no!” She fell into my arms and hid her face.
Marco would die. Even now his eyes were rolling back, and his hold against his wound was loosening. If left unattended he would bleed to death like an animal. I couldn’t help the pity I felt at seeing this man of power brought so low.
Mr. Douglas raised his arm and slammed the butt of the gun against the side of Marco’s head, knocking him out cold. Perla and I jumped, and she wailed.
Mr. Douglas grabbed Marco by the ankles, dragging him across the deck and down the stairs. Perla wouldn’t leave his side, so she ended up cuffed to a bed next to Marco, gagged.
Mr. Douglas turned to me and I shrunk back, shaking my head. I didn’t want to be handcuffed or tied up and locked away. He gave me a shake of his head and gripped my arm, pulling me out of the room.
“I’m not going to hurt you, little lassie. Come on.”
He sounded genuine enough, but my insides still slithered with fear as he pulled me up the stairs and commanded me to sit. I was too scared to ask questions. He worked fast. I watched as he grabbed rope, keeping a gun in one hand. He made his way down the small hall to the navigational area. The captain threw his hands up, backing away.
“Take us to the nearest port,” Mr. Douglas said. “Now. You will not use your radio for any reason. When we arrive you will be tied. I won’t kill you unless I have to. One wrong move and you’re dead. Comprende?”
The frightened man nodded his head. Mr. Douglas motioned to the panel, telling the man to hurry. I sat against the wall, my legs pulled up to my chest.
“Do you have clothes to change into?” Mr. Douglas called to me.
“N-no, Se?or.”
He cursed.
He watched the captain closely as he navigated us to land, and I sat there bombarded with thoughts.
How quickly life could change.
That morning I’d been beyond thrilled when Perla told me we were going out to sea with Marco and Mr. Douglas. It’d been years since I was allowed to enjoy the sun and fresh air. All of my anger and negativity from the night before shed from me like a heavy coat. I wanted to hug Marco and thank him.
The sun had felt glorious on my skin. After everything I’d been through the past two years, it was ridiculous to think of a boat ride as a vacation, but that’s how it felt. Being fed fruit at the hand of Mr. Douglas had been a wonderful start. Without looking up, I’d caught glances of his legs and hips, his forearms and fingers. And I imagined how well he’d used all of them on me last night.
Only he’d sent me away, hadn’t he?
I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to think at all. All I wanted to was to enjoy the moments of pleasure as they presented themselves. In that moment on the boat, with the bright sun and warm wind, I hadn’t a single worry or complaint.
I was usually good at drowning out business conversations. They were a bore. But I found myself paying attention to everything where Mr. Douglas was concerned. When he brought up buying a slave I was consumed with jealousy. On the verge of throwing-up. Then the way Marco talked about us, like training dogs or circus animals. That was what I’d become. An entertaining animal. The conversation rolled through me, churning my stomach with sadness and regret for all that was lost.
That quickly, all of my happy feelings disappeared as I realized how easily replaceable I was to men like Marco and Mr. Douglas. My life would have been so much easier if I could get rid of that deep nagging voice that told me I could be special to someone.
I wasn’t special.
That’s something mothers and fathers told their children when they thought they were safe. When they had free will and open futures. Just another fairy tale from a previous life.
And then. I couldn’t believe my ears. My heart rammed so hard in my chest I could hardly hear the rest over the whooshing in my ears.
He wanted to buy me.
He wanted me.
Me.
That desperation to be needed and wanted sprouted and grew vibrant petals. I should have felt pathetic for my gratefulness in that moment—disgusted at the way these men discussed my life like a transaction—but I couldn’t help it. I was so happy. A life as Mr. Douglas’s slave would be different. I wanted to please him in a way I’d never cared about pleasing anyone at the villa. For the first time since I’d been taken captive, I felt a desire to embrace my role because I wanted to, not out of fear. Was this how Perla and the others felt?
And once again, Marco’s ability to shock was like a sting across my chest when he told Perla to pleasure Mr. Douglas, and for me to watch.
I wanted to grab Perla by the hair and tear her away. I wanted to rain down a series of vicious slaps upon Marco for making this happen. And I wanted to cry that Mr. Douglas was able to get it up for her.