Happy New Year's! Everyone please be safe and don't drink n drive if you do go out. Leave some love on the way out, let me know what you think so far.
Chapter 3
I awoke to the sound of a dog barking wildly in the distance and its owner screaming at it to shut the fuck up. The basement was still just as dark as what it was when I was thrown down the stairs a few hours earlier; with the windows being blacked out it was difficult to tell whether it was day or night. James always made sure that not even the thinnest stream of light could penetrate the windows. Settling my head back into my pillow of dirt and crusty blood I tried to sleep off the soreness that started to work its way back into my body.
Visions of freedom worked their way into my dreams; more like memories of life before James. Memories of walking in the daylight, memories of the sun warming my face, of fresh cut grass after a summer rain.
But I can never have that again.
James made sure of that.
"Have you been behaving yourself?"
I was jarred from my sleep when the dim lights switched on from upstairs and James' voice echoed off the top stair. His feet came down the stairs with purpose and intent, when he reached the bottom step he crouched down in front of my cage to make a quick assessment of my situation; tilting his head from side to side until he finally made up his mind. His hand reached out for the padlock, yanking on it to ensure the mechanisms were still in place and had not been tampered with.
"You know I hate hurting you like that but I told you not to leave the house; matter of fact, you promised you wouldn't go outside if I let you upstairs for the day. And what did you do? You openly defied me! Not only did you leave the house but you walked down to the bar and I find you bellied up to the bar with that fucking meth head throwing back shots!" His anger was rolling off him as he continued on. "I really should leave you down here like this and let your foot heal the way it is and leave your shoulder all fucked up but you caught me at a generous time. Get over here."
He stood and fished the keys from his pocket and bent down to unlock my prison. When the door opened and he stepped back, I crawled painfully slow towards the exit with the knowledge that he may very quickly change his mind and slam the door shut in my face as a cruel joke to make me suffer even more. It wouldn't be the first time he broke something and left it to heal wrong as a punishment. The only reason my hand got fixed was because James gave me a dose of heroin and a massive amount of meth that caused my heart to stop. In a panic he called for an ambulance and I was revived in route to the hospital. I was placed on a detox program and once I was deemed clean a doctor came in and surgically re-broke my hand so it could be fixed properly.
Once I cleared the door of my cell I sat on the dirt floor with my legs crossed waiting in silence for whatever came next. James knelt next to me but his clothing never touched the ground; his fingers danced around my shoulder and with a bit of manipulation my shoulder was back in its proper place once more. Although it would remain sore for the next several hours it was nice that I had full range of motion in both arms again.
Honestly, sleeping on my right side hurt and being on my stomach was even more uncomfortable.
"Make one sound and I'll break your other foot after I'm done fixing this one."
James always delivered on his promises; they were never empty threats or just words. If James said he was going to do something he meant it.
Gingerly he took my left ankle in his hands and snapped it around a bit until it felt like it was in its proper position once more. I fought desperately to not make a sound or whimper as the pain shot straight through me, thankfully he allowed me to bite down on my knuckle in an attempt to silence myself. He watched my face intently for any noise that threatened to come through but when none came he set to work on finishing the splint.
When the splint was securely fastened he stood to his full height, walked around me for a few seconds and pressed a booted foot into the back of my head, sending me face first into the dirt. His hand on my back, tracing the outlines of the belt marks and welts was beyond painful (especially the ones that sat directly on my spine). Again I remained quiet because I knew at any second that belt could come off and create more marks.
"We are taking a shower, get your ugly ass up them stairs." He demanded, spitting on my face as he yanked me up by my hair.
I limped up the stairs, using my arm to shield my eyes from the burning light of day that poured in from the kitchen window. Usually the only time I was allowed to shower upstairs was if James intended on taking me somewhere; usually it meant that I was meant to be someone's sex toy for a few hours as an exchange for the meth he needed to keep himself high and to keep me subdued during his intense sessions of masochistic sex.
By the time I reached the bathroom the shower was already running and a good amount of steam had built up on the mirror. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt were sitting on the toilet lid, underneath were a pair of mismatched towels (one red, the other green). Once the door to the bathroom was shut James began undressing himself, letting his clothes fall wherever they landed then threw back the shower curtain to climb in. He extended his hand out allowing me entry but my only job was to make sure that he was squeaky clean; his hair had to be washed free of all the grease that built up during the week, his skin had to smell like Irish Spring soap, and the scabs from his track marks had to be scrubbed raw otherwise he'd spend hours picking away at them.
As for me, once James was clean, the shower stopped and the tub was filled with just enough water for me to clean myself. I was given just enough shampoo and conditioner to clean my hair and just enough soap to get the dirt off my skin. James knelt by the tub with a pitcher of water to wash the suds from my hair and a washcloth to clean the crusted blood from my back, but he never cared if the sores opened up and bled again while I was being cleaned up.
"You're damn lucky I decided not to kill you last night; the asshole you were with happens to be our manufacturer and the prick behind the bar is our dealer. You're gonna go in there, fuck the maker for a few hours and come back with a few kilos, got it? You'll do what he says, when he says. He made it perfectly clear to me last night when he stopped by he had no qualms about slitting your throat if you fuck up, you understand me? I'm just about finished with your training and I don't wanna start over with a fresh bitch, got it?"
"Yes sir." I mumbled quietly as James bent over the edge of the tub to pull the plunger, allowing the water to drain out.
I hate when he refers to these people as our; before James I never touched drugs, hell I never even smoked pot. Sure I could drink an Irishman under the table but when it came to drugs, that was where I drew the line. Climbing out of the tub I grabbed the red towel off the toilet and used it to wrap my hair and the green to dry myself off. However James was being impatient this morning and had a schedule to adhere to; he ripped the towel from my body and tugged the shirt over my head, pulling my arms through the holes, he pushed me onto the toilet and slid the jeans onto my legs, practically throwing me over his shoulder as he pulled them over my hips.
"Mac's expecting us at 10 am, sharp. He doesn't fuck around and always delivers everything on time, the least we can do is get there when he says otherwise it'll be both our heads on a pike. Get your hair out of that fucking towel and wait for me out in the car."
I padded out of the bathroom as soon as James opened the door, bare feet, wet hair, and all to sit silently in the car until he emerged freshly dressed. His hair was slicked back and shone brightly as the sun bounced off the massive amount of gel that he used. As he approached the car with key in hand he was talking with someone on the phone about something.
"… I'm dropping my little pet off at that psycho's house and picking up the product now. I don't fucking care what you're doing or who's sucking your tiny cock, meet me at the drop off location like we agreed or I'll make sure you wake up with your own dick up your ass, got me?" He slammed his phone shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "You're my good girl, aren't you? A defiant little shit sometimes, but you're still my good girl, huh?"
I fought the shudder that threatened to manifest as James petted the side of my face, brushing my hair back behind my ear. He offered me a soft smile then placed the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. Our drive was quiet except for the radio that played some old forgotten song; as we wound through the red dirt roads the barking of the same maniacal dog I heard last night and early this morning was heard once more, growing louder and crazier the closer we got to our destination.
James shut the car off when we arrived; the house was pretty run down and a generator sat quietly on the side. The dog was in a full-on rage, digging and pawing frantically inside its enclosure trying to escape.
"Wait here while I go get him."
Glancing at the clock on the dash it read 10:00 am exactly. James climbed out of the car and walked around the front towards the door, never bothering to knock but just walking right in like it was a second home. Moments later James came bursting through the door cursing up a storm and "Mac" hot on heels shouting just as loudly. The car door came flying open and I was pulled from the passenger seat, thrown to the ground in front of this strange man. In an attempt to show dominance, James stood on my back, his boots digging into the fresh wounds I received the night before.
"…I fucking told you last night she wouldn't put up a fight, see? All she does is fucking lays there and takes it! What more could you fucking want?"
"And I fucking told ya last night ya lil prick that I like to see 'em put a fucking struggle! If I wanted complacency I'd fuck 'em up myself!"
An audible growly came from James and in his frustration he stepped down off my back and lifted me from the ground by my hair, nearly sending me into the (still) open door of the car as he flung me backwards.
"Did I say you could take your bitch back? You wanted your supply you got it, but this one stays with me until I say otherwise. You want her back we do it on my terms and only when I'm through with her."
Once more I was roughly grabbed but with my hair in my face I couldn't make out who was winning this physical battle of tug o' war that I was caught in. The door of the car slammed shut followed by the driver's side door opening and closing; tires spun out in the dirt and I caught a glimpse of the taillights disappearing around the corner. My new "master" had a firm grip on my arm and huffed in irritation once James was out of sight.
"Get in the house."
I nodded solemnly and limped towards the house, reaching for the screen door to pull it open but found it was already being held for me when I glanced over my shoulder. Once inside I stood in a corner waiting for whatever came next.
"Ya gonna sit or are ya just gonna stand there like some kid? Ya had an awful lot to say last night and not a peep out of ya now?"
"James never lets me sit on the furniture, when I'm upstairs I have to stand in the corner."
"Ya got a name?"
"Pet, lil girl. James said women should never be allowed to have names, 'if they have names they go around thinking they have power.' I shouldn't have been drinking with you last night-"
"What was your name before you hooked up with that asshole?"
"I don't remember. James put me in the hospital a long time ago and when I came too I had a bad case of amnesia. To this day I still don't remember my name or what caused me wind up in the hospital in the first place."
"Usually ain't a generous person but ya look like you could use a decent meal. When was the last time you ate anything?"
"The burger I was going to eat last night would've been my first real bit of food in a little over a month." I confessed, hanging my head down in shame after feeling the hunger pains once again. "Why-" before I could get my question out he disappeared into the kitchen, rooted around in the fridge for a second then came back with a container in hand.
"Walter bagged this slop up last night after you were hauled outta there. Told me that prick was the one I was supposed to be dealing with today. Me and Walter rarely see eye to eye on anything but we did agree last night you were gonna stay here for a bit. Saw the marks on your back; I ain't a nice person, far from it-"
"Yet you're offering me food?" I asked confused, unsure of what may happen to me while I was in this madhouse.
"You were different last night, last night you said I had competition. If you meant that prick, he ain't shit, these are my canyons and what I say goes."
"Last night I overstepped my boundaries, last night I broke the rules and paid for it. But it was worth it; locked in a basement for more than a month and not being able to see the sun or feel the warmth of its rays on my face…I got carried away and was hoping to be back long before James knew I was gone. But why am I telling you this? Being here is supposed to be part of my punishment for last night; I think James is half expecting you to kill me so he can go out and find a new pet to mold."
"I kill for shits and giggles; I kill when I feel like it. I make them suffer for a little while before I slit their fucking throats; I wait until they're begging for death. Sometimes I feel like raping 'em, sometimes I feel like gutting the fuckers, occasionally I'll get a wild hair up my ass and do something that's never been done before."
"So you're going to kill me too?"
"Told that douchebag that you're mine until I say otherwise and I meant it. You do what I say, when I say and we got no issue. You go around doing anything you fucking please and it'll be the last fucking thing you do, understand? Get your ass in the bedroom and be ready by the time I get in there."
I nodded and kept my gaze on the floor, as I tried to move past him he grabbed my arm and stopped me in my tracks.
"Name's Mac, better not forget it either, you'll be screaming it before ya know it."
"Why are you doing this? Making me stay here? Letting me walk around the house? Giving me freedoms?"
"You're just like me, just don't know it yet. Get goin."
