22. Ana

TWENTY-TWO

Ana

M y feet don't want to move but Dima told me to.

What if he gets hurt?

He has a knife in his waistband, he'll be okay. He can fight, I've seen him.

I'm better though, I'd make sure they don't get too close.

I'll check their arms from a distance and go back to get him.

Blending into the crowd is easy and I pretend to watch the people fucking as the group go into a room together.

Pushing my foot in the door so I can hear what they're saying, I deflate at the familiarity in their tone. They're all swingers, a group of fucking friends not trafficked. Checking their arms just to make sure, each left arm has a corresponding hand. Fucking idiots. They were walking all secretive in mirrored masks and now Dima is alone.

I'll stumble through the door he's behind and pretend to be drunk, he'll be fine. If they touched him then I'll kill them. Making my way back through the crowd that's somehow got bigger, I find myself at a crossroad, the security door on my right is the one he went through but the one further down hasn't been fully closed. The voices float through on a hum. I can't hear what they're saying but I recognize Rowan's voice. He was the biggest fucking cunt, degrading each child as he haggled over their bodies, the prick. My throat tightens, the air getting thicker and harder to draw in as his brands burn through my stomach.

There's no scream coming from Dima's door, so he isn't fighting them back. Will he hate me if I make him wait longer? No, he told me to go. He understands why I'm doing this. He's helping me. Standing between the two doors, I fold in half in case anyone sees me so they'll think I've drank too much. I'm closer to Rowan's voice, it's like ants on my skin.

"I can get you an eight-year-old or two four-year-olds. The latter will be more expensive, I'm sure you'll understand, but who can put a price on being the first owner?"

They're all fucking disgusting.

They're children, not fucking collectables or toys for their amusement. I don't recognize the other two voices, a man and a woman. Sick fucks. Couples are the worst. They play games mentally and pass themselves off as parents. I've been in them rooms, stood against the wall and watched as they shake hands.

A door opens and I shut my eyes as though that will stop me being seen. Footsteps move closer from Dima's side, but I don't relax until my nose twitches from the smell of his cologne and his rough fingertips touch my nape. They're not slick with blood; his hands are dry, making my anger intensify because that means he didn't fight back.

I'm going to kill them.

He's nice, you don't hurt nice people.

My head moves back as I look up to gauge how badly they should hurt before they die but he's free of any mark. There's no blood on him at all, the only thing on his face is a smile. Three pairs of footsteps move from the other side and Dima hardens, seeing my face. I don't know how he knows to hide me, but he flattens me against the wall and threads his fingers through my hair, pulling my face into the crook of his neck. He's good at this, making an intimate picture without touching me any more than he has to, because he cares and he'll use everyone other than me.

He covers every angle and tilts his body as they get closer, his nose tickling my neck as he wraps tighter around me. The footsteps are right beside us and my eyes close. Rowan's horrible fucking laugh increases the ants as he walks past us, and my eyes open over Dima's shoulder to see who the other two people are. The couple are pretending to be in love, holding hands when they were just closing a deal on children .

The arrogant bastards aren't wearing masks. Rowan doesn't turn and I watch his nape, waiting for the twinge. It happens and I smile, remembering how he screamed when the hot oil fell on him. It's a shame it didn't get on anything other than his back so it would be visible to everyone. Fucking prick, I hope he likes being ‘defective' like he calls people. They keep walking through the hallway and one of the guards steps in front of Rowan, whispering something into his ear, they must be trusted if they're not wearing a mask. When he extends his neck so do I, but there's no deep burn marks on his neck for me to get satisfaction when I burnt him, I know it's there. It was worth the punishments because he actually screamed and he took me back to Yulia so I didn't have to stay in his disgusting dollhouse.

Dima lowers and picks me up by the back of my thighs as though he's aware I'm going to escape him and strip the cunt to make sure I'm not going crazy. My legs automatically go around his waist, and he wraps his jacket around me to hold it closed at my lower back.Once the non-burnt Rowan is out sight, I remember Dima wasn't with me while I looked for Nina and wrap my arms around him, checking his back for any injuries.

There's no blood on my hands and he doesn't wince. He walks easily and I breathe out, "You're okay."

Soft lips brush my temple and there's worry in his voice.

"Keep your face hidden for me, lisichka."

Nodding my head so I don't cause any more trouble, I hold on to his shoulders and tuck my face tighter to his neck. I'll get them two fuckers once they leave, I'm not going to let them build up the hope of two innocent children just to be entertained when they crush it.I'll get Rowan too; they'll have his contact details then I'll make sure he can't get rid of my marks like I can't get rid of theirs, the vain bastard has enough money to pay for any treatment he wants but I'll take his full face off and make him watch.

I can't torture in a dress though, I wonder if Dima will let me wear his trousers. He said to keep my face hidden, so I'll ask him when we get outside. His steps are rushed, and I peek when curiosity gets the better of me. There's a man begrudgingly holding open a hidden exit, I've never seen him before, but he looks at Dima with open hate. Fucking prick. How can anyone hate Dima? I did at first but that's because he kept saying he hated me.

He doesn't let me down when we get outside, and Tali is sat waiting for us in the passenger seat. His eyes harden, tracking the full length of Dima's body and he clenches his jaw seeing me wrapped around him. Weirdo. Dima carefully puts me in the back before he gets in the driver's seat and the man who opened the door isn't there anymore. I look for the two fuckers who are planning on buying a child tonight and hold my hand between the two front seats.

"Dima, take your trousers off."

I need to be ready.

Tali turns around and shouts, "ANA!"

Pushing my head between the seats, I swing my arm back and his teeth chatter against my palm. "Don't shout at me!"

He never does it, Valentin has but he does it to everyone, Tali doesn't hit me back, instead he turns to Dima with a threat. "Don't even fucking think about touching my sister, I'll chop your dick off and shove it down your throat."

He always calls me his sister, never half or anything to diminish the title as though we grew up together.

"Then I'll make Katya fall in love with me and you'll be called stepgrandad-uncle dickless," he adds lower while glaring at him.

Dima is driving further away but we need to stay here, and I rush out as fear takes over. "Stop! They're going to take them if we go."

I didn't do anything for years, now I can fix it, I have to.

Both of them have the same low question, speaking at the same time.

"Nina?"

It's worse. At least Nina is an adult now, maybe I can stop the other children being ‘broken in' like Rowan said. He always got more when they were the first owners. Shaking my head, I tell them everything I heard, leaving out how I know Rowan. It's stupid but I don't want them to think I'm weak for not doing anything, they don't know that it was different when I was with Yulia, that I didn't know what to do yet.It sounds dumb to say that I tried but I ended up burning myself and then I wanted the punishments to stop so I stopped trying.

Maybe, I can torture in a dress.

It's not that hard with my boots on. Footwear matters not outfit — I make a mental note of that in case I need it in the future. Tali has already left to update His Royal Pain in The Ass of whoever Bianchi is and Dima follows me like a shadow. I can't think of what torture to do next, and their cheeks are already missing, exposing their teeth like a Halloween mask.It looks funny and I press the tip of my finger against the woman's bleeding gum from where I dug the knife in too deep. The blood coats the glove and I snicker to myself as I mark a B on her forehead and deepen my voice.

"I declare you a sick fuck, be cleansed, you demon."

My entire body shakes and my vision blurs as I laugh out loud, nearly falling in half. They both get paler and start crying again, they must be losing too much blood and I'll need to get faster.

"Do eyeballs pop?"

I'm talking to myself, musing aloud, and Dima stiffens beside me with his disgust. He doesn't like this part, he's fine with fighting but he gets freaked out with torture, but I want to know if it would sound like a water balloon. Testing my theory, I start with the woman and my helpful assistant pulls her head back despite his lip curling up as I push into her lash line. Her screams bounce off the walls in the warehouse and I choke back a laugh. She wasn't screaming about hurting two children, she was excited there'd be one for each of them. Sick fuck.

I know Dima thinks I'm crazy, but I have to do it once I've got her eyeball free. He doesn't let go of her hair and I push it through the opening in her cheek as she continues screaming, opening the gate of her teeth and my laugh is louder when I pull on her jaw so I can see it roll on her tongue like a slot machine. Doing it again, I keep her mouth closed and pull her ear as though it's a lever and I nearly fall over from laughing as I shout, "Jackpot!"

The dickhead chained up beside me throws up and I smile widely up at Dima. He doesn't look disgusted and softens staring at it. I don't want to look away from him, his eyes are back to normal being twin moons. But the nonces are crying and talking to each other.

"I love you, Max. Remember that, okay?"

My eyes roll automatically, and I hold Max's so he can see hers roll too even if it needs my fingers to do it. I can't keep the exasperation out of my voice as I point out the obvious and stuff the eyeball back in her mouth.

"You're both going to die, Richard. You won't remember anything."

Dumb fuck.

All I've fucking heard is that same sentiment over and over again — I love you . Idiots. If they loved each other why are they fucking children? I know they're married after checking their IDs, children should only be a topic between a couple when they're talking about raising them, not ruining them. I didn't even have parents and I know that.

Maxine opens her mouth to return how much she loves the ugly Richard making the eyeball fall to floor. Rude. I jab my knife in the middle of her throat before she can get a word out, sick of hearing them repeat the three words. Richard's sobs get louder, wailing, and I'm sick of his fucking noise, it's going to give me a headache after listening to it for five hours.

The slippery bastard tries to pull his tongue free as I grab it between my gloved fingers, and it makes the clean line I'm attempting harder as I'm cutting it out. It doesn't stop him screaming but the gurgling makes me feel better as he slowly chokes.

When they're both finally dead, Dima moves forward and taps his phone.

"Stasya found the children, they've got them with Inessa at Steorra."

Rowan won't know anything until it's time for the ‘rental' period to be over. He's a sicker cunt than the rest because he dehumanizes everyone, resorts them down to parts and his favorite saying was no parts go to waste. Even Yulia would shudder at the thought of him selling the dead bodies.

It's poetic, two lives for two lives. Two physical deaths over two that would have happened in every other way but physical.It's a shame they weren't trusted enough to have Rowan's details, but I'll find him one day and I won't freeze then, I'll kill him slowly, over years and make him eat every body part I cut off before he dies. I'll have to research how to keep someone alive in a bag so that I can do exactly as his motto and not waste a single part.

Dima gently removes my gloves and washes my hands with the hose we use for cleaning. He removes his own and I don't think he needs help washing his hands when he's old, but I do it because he did it for me.

Smiling down at me, he softly says, "Take your contacts out, your eyes will be hurting."

There's still a tinge of unease as I remove them, but I focus on getting rid of all the evidence before Vlad can get his knickers in a twist. I can't get the declarations of love out of my head. It's stupid, they both knew they were dying but they wouldn't stop.

Pausing in hosing down the bloody area, I turn to Dima, hoping he has the answer. "Why did they keep saying they love each other?"

He smiles, taking two steps until he's stood in front of me, cups my neck and strokes my cheek with his thumb as he implants his words into my brain with the way he's staring into my eyes.

"Because they wanted to die with the only good thing they had on their tongues."

I don't have my contacts in, and he never looks away from my eyes when I don't, it's no different now but his answer doesn't make sense when they won't remember.

"That's dumb, their love wasn't good, it was something they hid behind to hurt people."

"Maybe, it's not to them."

His voice is so low it barely reaches my ears. Shrugging to myself, I go back to hosing everything down and speak my thoughts out loud.

"If you tell someone you love them only because you're dying that's being a coward and selfish, they missed out on hearing it all the other times and they never knew anyone loved them."

People's last words have no meaning. I've heard them cry, beg, apologize, everything they can think of, it's always selfish, a way to make themselves feel better. Not actually do better. I'm not going to die like that, I'm going to die laughing because it means I'm real, you have to be a person to be able to die.