2. Olivia

Olivia

You told me it's all my fault.

E vil is playing from my old sound system; the lyrics that I know so well prevent me from remembering the past—at least during the day, as memories, like phantoms, creep into dreams through the night. I sleep only when I am so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open. Sometimes, the pain cripples me and I can barely get out of bed and the only things that help me go through the daily motions are music and drugs.

Today was one of those days when I wanted to stay in bed and watch the snow fall from the sky. Winter has always been my favorite season. It reminds me of other times, happier times, and of a pair of kind, turquoise eyes.

I even tried to tell Jason that I wasn’t feeling well, hoping he would leave me alone, at least today, but a fist in my stomach was a reminder that it is best to keep my mouth closed and do as my brother tells me.

After he leaves my room, I sit at my vanity desk, staring at my reflection for a few moments, remembering how much I hate myself.

My hand trembles and I take a steady breath before I apply the red lipstick. Ever since that awful night—when I killed my best friend—I have hated the color red. Red makes me remember everything. But Jason insists that I use it every day, claiming it is the color of whores—something he takes great pleasure in reminding me about every single day. He seems oblivious to the anxiety it produces in me.

Jason, five minutes older than me, has always treated me like garbage. I don’t remember a day when he showed me affection. Nor our parents. Jason has always been the golden child, while I am the black sheep. My father wanted an only child—a son—and me being a girl made him resent me even more. He is the epitome of the misogynistic male; his photo should be put in the dictionary next to the definition of the word. The only reason my mother is with my father is because she is just as cold-hearted as he is. Luckily, I don’t have to see them because Jason has me living in his apartment. Not that he is better than them, but at least he gives me drugs and alcohol.

I don’t know what deal he made with Carlos, but I'm happy I’m not at the Celestial Heaven anymore having to fuck men for hours daily. Not all of them were Dukes, as Carlos allowed normal men to use the pornai in the Celestial Heaven in exchange for their loyalty. At least with Jason, I only have to take care of his friends. They don’t hurt me…that badly.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and try to conceal the dark circles under my eyes and add some color to my cheeks, but no matter how hard I try, anything I do isn’t good enough for Jason. He always dislikes what clothes I wear at his ‘parties’ or the eyeshadow I use or how I walk or something I say and refuses to give me drugs until I beg him in front of everyone, making me do…things before I am even high.

The last time I upset him, he kept me locked in my room for two days, not caring that I was suffering from withdrawal and vomiting even the water I drank.

The song starts for the fourth time and I rush to finish getting ready. Jason usually comes after me after the song has been played five or six times. If I dare to make him wait, he will have his friends hurt me more than usual.

The day Jason took me from the Celestial Heaven was when Angelica escaped Carlos’ clutches. Carlos thought I knew something since she ran away minutes after Jason and I left. He came to Jason’s apartment and for several hours he tortured me for information, but I knew nothing. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have told Carlos where Angelica was. Not because we are friends, but because she was one of the few people to comfort me after Camila…after I…screwed up big time. She held my hand when I needed it most. Wherever Angelica is, I hope she is safe.

When Carlos finally gave up and left, I was covered in blood and bruises from head to toe. Even now, months later, I still have bruises on my body, some made by Jason, others by his friends, and the rest from Carlos.

When Jason enters my room, I am prepared for whatever he has in store for me.

Jason studies the short dress I put on. My gaze is on the floor, as he doesn’t like it when I look him in the eyes. Not his or those of any other men. My only purpose is to please men, not talk to them or gain their pity.

“Not bad. Maybe you are not as stupid as you look.” He grabs my left arm and looks at the marks made by the needles I use to inject the drugs into my system. “I would let you have your dose now, but I am afraid Malaky prefers it when the women are alert.”

Malaky.

I know that name.

Malaky Jensen.

Just like my father, the great Senator Deymar, Malaky’s dad is also a senator, but in another state. From what I heard, while I was on my knees, sucking cocks, Malaky just moved to Veross City. If what Jason’s friends said is true, then Malaky is just as cruel as Carlos.

Not wanting to service Malaky, I say, “I thought I only had to take care of your friends.”

I keep my tone low and calm, not wanting to anger Jason, but something triggers him as he grabs my braid and forces me to look at him. I am lucky he doesn’t slap me across my eyes, as he usually does when I look at his face. “What is your only purpose in life?” he sneers.

Avoiding his gaze, not wanting to anger him even more, I say, “To do as you tell me.”

“So why are you questioning me?” he demands to know.

Why did I have to open my mouth? Jason is right—I am stupid.

“I am sorry,” my voice is barely a whisper.

“Do you want me to send you to jail for killing Camila?”

Despite knowing better, my gaze rushes to his face. His brown eyes—just a few shades darker than my whiskey ones—are full of anger. “No,” I tell him.

“Do you know what they do to whores like you there?” He told me many times, but even so, I shake my head. “They become everyone’s bitch. So, unless you want to eat pussy for the rest of your life, don’t question me again.”

Pussy eating might not be the worst thing in prison, but gangs of women are.

Jason is the only reason I wasn’t arrested six years ago when Camila died because of me. He ‘saved’ me from a fate worse than death, only to sell me as a pornai—a sex slave—to the Celestial Heaven, the place where the Dukes gather every Sunday.

“I am not questioning you,” I say. “At least let me have my dose now. I need it.”

“You can have it when Malaky is done with you.”

“Please,” I beg him because the drugs keep me numb.

Jason slaps me. “Are you too dumb to understand the meaning of ‘no?’”

“I’m sorry.” If I keep insisting, he will beat me, and he knows where to hit to inflict the most pain without leaving a mark on me.

He lets go of my hair. “Get your coat and let’s go. Malaky doesn’t like to wait.”

I do as he says and grab my coat from my closet and we leave the apartment. His car is parked in the garage, the elevator takes us there. On the ride to Malaky’s home, I keep quiet and distract myself by looking out the window at the people on the busy streets of the city.

Everything is decorated for Christmas. I don’t even know how many days are left until then, as my days always blend together. Fucking men and drugs are my routine so by the time I am done sucking everyone Jason tells me to, I am too high to care what day it is. It would not matter anyway, because from Monday to Sunday, rain or sun, cold or heat, sick or not, I have to pay for my crimes.

One day, when Jason decides I am done paying for my crimes I will be reunited with the boy who, with only one look, not only stole my heart but also shattered it forever.

It is still snowing when we arrive at Malaky’s house. Jason parks in front of it and I get out. The coat I am wearing was gifted to me when I was in high school and does little to protect me from the brutal December cold. It is better this way, as the cold keeps me distracted.

We walk up to the house, music drifting from inside, and Jason knocks loudly on the door. Moments later someone opens and we enter. From the loud music, and some couples making out in the hallway, I assume it’s a party—and I am to be the main attraction. It usually goes like this.

Jason takes me to the living room. At least ten men are there drinking and talking. One gets up from the couch and greets us. My gaze is frozen on my red high heels while Jason and the man speak.

“This is her,” Jason says.

The man—who I assume is Malaky—has me remove my coat. “She is not high, is she?”

I put the coat on the back of a chair.

“No,” Jason replies as Malaky grabs my tits and squeezes them hard.

My hands tremble at how badly I need some drugs. Why does Jason hate me so much he refuses to give me my much-needed daily dose? I don’t know how I will survive without it tonight.

“Good,” Malaky says as he pinches my nipples. I rarely wear a bra or panties as men prefer quick access to me. “I like your tits, they are big and firm. It will be a pleasure to play with them tonight.” He keeps fondling me to the point of pain, but I say nothing. No one cares anyway. His hand goes between my legs, his fingers brutally entering me. “A little dry,” he complains, but there is nothing I can do about it as I never get wet, nor do men care about that when they fuck me. They only care about their pleasure, not my pain.

“Everyone complains about her pussy, saying even the Sahara Desert is wetter than her,” Jason mocks me. “You can always use some lube.”

A grin spreads across Malaky’s face. “If I use lube then I won’t see her ass bleed.”

I wince internally because anal hurts so badly.

“You can do anything you want to her, I only ask that you won’t do any permanent damage. She is my main source of income,” Jason lets Malaky know.

Malaky laughs. “I will try.” Then to me, he says, “Remove your clothes.”

“I will return in the morning,” Jason tells me before leaving.

I take off my dress, fold it, and put it in on the same chair I put my coat on. “Can I have something to drink?” I ask, hoping I can at least get drunk.

“You can start by sucking cock if you are thirsty, as there is plenty of cum to swallow,” Malaky says and sits on the couch.

Maybe if I do everything he tells me, he will reward me and let me drink.

I get on my knees and approach a man with salt and pepper hair and start giving him a blowjob. When I am done with him I move to another man, and the next one, and the next one, until I’ve sucked everyone in the room. My jaw aches. This is exactly why I need drugs, so I can numb not only my soul but my body as well.

After that, the ‘real’ fun starts as my hands are tied behind my back and they do whatever they want to me. They make cuts on my arms and legs or burn my skin with their cigarettes. Alcohol is forced down my throat, together with piss and cum until I end up vomiting. Even the few women present take great pleasure in hurting me or having me eat them out while men hit me or use my ass or pussy.

By the end of the night, not only is my ass bleeding, but so is my pussy, along with the many cuts they inflicted on my body. My voice is hoarse from how much I screamed.

When Jason finally comes looking for me, I am trembling so badly I feel like I will die. Maybe it will finally happen. I've tried taking my life several times, but Jason always catches me in time and then beats me so badly, I barely move for days. Once, he broke my right arm. That was the last time I tried anything, as I am too scared of what my brother might do to me next.

“I thought I said no permanent damage,” Jason says after he takes a look at me. “At least you didn’t kill her.”

“Why do you care if she lives or dies? There are plenty of women out there you can turn into your slaves,” Malaky says.

It is obvious Malaky doesn’t know Jason. He thrives on my pain and suffering. Even if he were to get another woman to be his slave, it wouldn’t be the same, as he loves nothing more than to kill me slowly.

“Because she brought shame to the family and now she has to pay,” Jason says. Kicking me, he snarls, “Get up, you stupid slut, let’s go!”

“I would like to keep her for a few days. There is a hunt on Christmas Eve. I think she will be a lot of fun,” Malaky says.

A hunt?

My entire body aches in pain from what was done to me and from the lack of drugs and I want to beg Jason to give me my dose now, but I have no other option than to obey. It takes me several tries before I finally stand. Blood runs down my thighs and my legs shake badly and I have to grab a chair to steady myself. I can’t wait to take a shower, get in bed, and watch a movie or two.

Jason clicks his tongue. “Our deal was only for a night. If I wanted her dead, I would have killed her a long time ago. Let’s go, Olivia.”

I put my dress and coat on, grab my shoes, and follow Jason out of the house. The snow is cold under my bare feet, but I don’t mind.

Jason is unlocking the car when Malaky comes out of the house. “Listen to my offer first. I can give you a lot of money for her. More than she is worth.”

“Not interested,” Jason says and opens the driver’s car door. “Get in,” he orders me.

Malaky takes out a handgun from his pocket. “I thought you were a man of business,” he says and shoots Jason in the back.

I am so terrified of what is happening that I don’t have the power to scream. Instead, I freeze and watch as Jason falls to his knees. “Son of a bitch,” he says and his eyes close, his head landing on the driver’s seat.

Jason is dead? I am not sure how to feel. Happy and relieved or happy and scared?

Malaky comes to me, his gun pointed at me. If I try to attack him, will he kill me as well, putting an end to my suffering?

“I didn’t kill him,” Malaky tells me when I keep looking at my twin. I thought I was finally free of Jason. So foolish of me to think otherwise. “I just knocked him out for a few hours. Enough to get him far away from here so I can have a little Christmas Eve fun with you. Now,” he jerks his head towards the house, “get inside. I am not done with you.”

My gaze goes to the front door.

Maybe he will be done in a few hours.

Maybe I will finally be reunited with that boy my body and soul crave, my long nightmare and suffering finally coming to an end.