Sociopath's Obsession(44)

Something I promised myself I would never be again.





The sound of the cell opening woke me up, and my eyes immediately glanced at Dominic, who was still sound asleep. I readjusted the blanket, which had slid down to his waist, back over his shoulder. Pressing the back of my hand to his forehead, I confirmed the lack of fever, which relieved me.

John stood behind the bars, eying the exchange curiously, and then said quietly, “Get up.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

His eyes narrowed and he spit inside our cell, close to Dominic. I barely restrained myself from jumping on him. His men would then beat me badly, and no one would be there to take care of Dom.

“You don’t ask questions here. Get up.” I stood up as two guards handcuffed me and pushed me in an unusual direction. The specific rooms designed for ‘sessions’ were located on the right side of the cell, but this time, we moved to the left side, to an unfamiliar setting. The smelly, disgusting grey cells were left behind us as we stepped inside a lobby. Everything was decorated in white and brown—couches, tables. The smell of tobacco hung in the air. The change of rooms put me on high alert. In the middle of the room, which appeared to be an office, stood a man in dark jeans and a white button-up shirt. I had never seen him before.

“Here is the boy we talked about.” The man turned around, his black eyes devoid of any emotion as he studied my appearance. “He has a twin brother too if you are up for it, and for the right price, of course,” John added.

“How old is he?”

John frowned and barked at Alex. “How old are those fucking twins?” Alex scratched his chin and shrugged.

“Fourteen. I’m fourteen,” I decided to answer, so whatever this man wanted would be over soon.

“If you are in the mood for something younger, I have them too.”

The man shook his head. “He will do. Schedule an appointment tomorrow.”

John frowned. “Tomorrow is Sunday. I can’t be here.”

The man raised his brow. “So? I don’t need your help for fucking.”

At first glance, the man didn't give off a vibe like a sick fucker like Alfred and S, but clearly, he had the same dark desires. The only good part about it was the fact John chose me over Dominic.

“I prefer to supervise the first visit of important clients.”

The man’s face widened in a dangerous smile that didn’t reached his eyes. “I’m the head of the Mexican Cartel. You hardly need to supervise me. The boy will be fine. The money will be transferred to your account immediately.”

After a beat, John agreed. “Alex, take the boy back.”

“Food,” the man suddenly said.

“What?” John asked, confused.

“Give them plenty of food and water. I don’t like bones.”

“Sure, whatever. Alex, take care of that.” Alex pushed me harshly in the direction of the cells as my mind memorized everything—turns, codes, keys.

John might have given me an opportunity to form the plan for running away from him. Gaining access into unknown territory was worth it, even if it meant one more repulsive fucker touching my body.



Sapphire

I was twenty-three years old, and although I wasn't a virgin, my experience with men had been very limited.

Limited, as in having only two real boyfriends and a one-night stand.

My first boyfriend was a high school classmate, and since we both were sort of geeks and not the most attractive, we got along. None of us wanted to go to college as virgins, so, like so many others, on prom night, we did the deed. It was awkward, painful, and back then, I couldn't imagine a time when I would want to repeat the whole sex experience. The romance books I occasionally read in the library just skipped over the whole thing. However, I still had huge expectations for college.

That was where I met Tyler. He was tall, blond, and handsome, and the whole campus was crazy about him. I couldn't believe it when he made a move on me—the chubby and glasses-wearing girl—but he did and we went on a date. After two months of dating, I decided to give in and sleep with him. I had needs as well, and his kisses were to die for. His tongue skills led my imagination to dream about good oral action. The rumors were that he was good in bed—although who the hell sent them out, I had no idea. Tyler created the mood, music, bathed my body in kisses, and that was about all the foreplay my body got. I had to fake it, while my boyfriend came with a loud groan above me. It wasn't as bad as the first time, but still unsatisfying. We broke up the next day, because he called me too frigid for his tastes. Apparently, it was my fault.

The Tyler fiasco helped me discover the vibrator, which, as opposed to men, did wonders to my vagina, and I decided to stay celibate until the right guy came along.