Chapter Seven: Clean
WARNING: Brief nudity!
Dominique rolls over on the bed and finds no one's in it. Opening her eyes groggily, she notices Vaas isn't there and groans.
He's the only one with the key, and it's still dark out.
Vaas has been leaving for all hours of the day and night without warning; not that she minded, but it wouldn't hurt if he unshackled her so she could get a glass of water or make a quick trip to the bathroom. She merely flops on her back and stares at the ceiling, praying that the seemingly harmless spider won't land on her face.
A body plops down on the bed, reeking of blood, gunpowder, and cannabis.
Vaas.
"You've been waiting up for me?" his smug voice asks in the darkness.
"No," she rasps, "I need to pee."
"You think I give a fuck? You better hold that shit."
He lies in bed with her, sighing deeply. She turns away from him and faces the wall, daydreaming about her old life. She was about to dose off when he feels an arm sling over her shoulder and stubble on the back of her neck.
"You need a fucking shower. Smell like a turtle tank." He grumbles against her.
"I'm…sorry?" Dominique really doesn't know how to respond. Does she really stink that bad? How long has it been since…?
"You're going to bathe. Tomorrow. And wash my clothes while you're at it, yeah?"
"Where am I…"
"…I'll walk you there. I got some leftover soap and shit that you can use. Don't stray too far or think about running, hermana. I'm not in the mood to go chase you down. Got your word you won't do anything stupid?"
"Where am I going to go, Vaas?"
"…you're smart. I like that."
"Vaas…?"
"This better be a good fucking question. I'm not the one you want to talk to about your dreams and hopes for the future like a little bitch. What. The fuck. Is it?" Sleep is fast approaching the irate pirate; Dominique recants her wish for personal space.
"…Nothing. Goodnight, Vaas."
He grunts in response.
Dominique shifts herself to get more comfortable, Vaas' body heat becoming welcoming. She sighs, her eyes getting droopy, and then, darkness.
A splash of water hits her in the face.
Gasping, she jolts out of the bed, only for the shackle to cut deep into her flesh and yank her back on the hard mattress. Somewhere, through her various curse words and groans of discomfort, he hears Vaas laughing.
"Get the fuck up, Princess. It's time for a bath."
This is by far on the list of the most humiliating things Dominique has ever done, next to getting caught stuffing her bra in the eighth grade on picture day.
There she stands, naked as the day she was born, with her back facing a man who could easily put a bullet in her skull if he wanted to, about to get into water that looks freezing, unforgiving, and brimming with bacteria.
She's going to bathe…right in front of him.
She shudders when she feels those crazed eyes burning holes in her spine and traveling down below.
He can see every scar, every stretch mark, every cellulite and lump of fat that adorns her back, hips, butt, and thighs. She doesn't want to turn around and expose her pendulous breasts, her protruding belly, and the more garish battle wounds adorning her abdomen and chest. She doesn't want him to see her like this; this is definitely too intimate and dehumanizing.
She stifles her tears.
"I got some soap and a rag you could use to get clean. Don't use up all that soap, though. We need that for the clothes."
His voice sounds so mechanical, so detached, it makes her want to crawl back into herself even more. She turns to face him, shielding her breasts away from him. He laughs bitterly.
"You Americans and your modesty! Believe me, hermana, you ain't got nothin' I wanna see. Here." He crams the travel-sized soap and rag in her hand.
"Go on, bathe. I want that smell off you. That's not how a lady is supposed to smell."
Taking the items, she dips her toe in the water. It feels too cold. Why couldn't it be a hot spring? She snaps out of it. She needs to get clean; she can now smell the stink on her. She sinks her foot in the water, then the other, and makes her way in the water until it touches her waist. That's as deep as she's going to go; she doesn't want any surprises sneaking up on her that she can't swim out of. Her body prickles from the temperature; she's shivering and covering her chest area to get warm.
"Suck it up, princess. It ain't even that cold!"
She chatters in response, rapidly working that pitiful piece of soap into a lather and scrubbing at her arms and chest. Damn hearing Vaas' mouth about making it last; she's getting clean and trying to keep warm. She dunks down, her hair floating to the surface. So much for that expensive straightening treatment; she feels her curls coming back. She comes back up and tries to lift her leg to wash at it, only to trip and splash around in the water.
She flails herself above water, gasping for air.
She hears laughter and her cheeks get hot.
"Oh please, don't stop on my account." He laughs some more.
She hears a splash and freezes.
"Relax. I need to get clean too." He grabs the bar of soap from her hand and runs the piece through his hair.
In this moment, Dominique gets a good look at her…employer.
Despite his frightening tendencies, he's not too bad to look at; she could even admit he's handsome, especially with how toned and chiseled his body is…
She stops herself.
She must never forget that this isn't an equal platform relationship; it's captor and captive. He could kill her at any time, sell her friends off for money or kill them right in front of her if she doesn't cooperate. He's a ruthless, cold-hearted killer that gets off tormenting and slaughtering innocent people. He's the closest thing to a monster in her closet, a monster that she shares a bed with for the past 5 nights.
She needs to go home, and right about now, she'll do whatever's necessary to get there, even if it means sleeping with the enemy.
"This is dangerous."
"This is our last shot." Anika bites out, looking over her shoulder anxiously. There, front and center, is Dominique's cell phone, stolen from the pirates' personal vault. With any luck, they'd be off the island before anyone would know it was missing.
The now dirtied, chipped, slightly water damaged phone is now a beacon of salvation for the friends, their last glimmer of hope.
"Fargo and Burka have activated the towers. We should be able to make a call to a nearby embassy and hopefully we can come home." Carmen explained. Anika clears her throat.
"We need everything to go right. One fuck up, and we all die. I'm letting you know right now, there's no turning back. We're getting off this fucking island, even if it kills us." She announces. She holds out her fist.
"All for one."
"One for all." Everyone said in unison, touching fists.