I want to punch the wall, but I hold myself back. I’m supposed to be bringing food to the next kid, but what’s going on has me so distracted. We’ve gone too far, but I can’t stop it either. Not by myself. I’m just a young guy. I can’t fight a whole company on my own.
I take a deep breath and sigh.
I still can’t believe what my boss suggested.
His own people … He wants them to fuck the servants to make babies.
We’re supposed to fuck the servants who are of age to make more servants so he can make a fucking farm out of them. And we’re becoming the fucking stallions to inseminate the mares.
Fuck.
I slam the wall, unable to contain myself.
The worst part is that I can’t deny him.
That’s like treason of the highest degree. After all, I’m his second in command. The one who’s always with him, who’s always got his back.
I wish I could go back in time and tell that little boy not to ever take that man’s hand when he offered food and a place to sleep. It wasn’t worth it.
It never will be.
But how do I get out?
I can’t. Not when I’m leaving all these … people behind.
These people. Because that’s what they are. People. Humans, like me.
And if I ran … I’d leave them all behind to die a slow, miserable death in the hands of a monster.
I can’t let it happen.
So I push myself off the wall and continue walking with my head down, like I always do, determined to someday have the courage to fight for another life besides my own.
***
Alexis
Now
I hear his words, but they’re not really registering.
I’m stuck on words like cattle and babies and servants.
Words I wouldn’t ever connect … Words that now make me sick to my stomach.
My hand has been in front of my mouth the entire time, listening to his story, wondering if this could all be true. It’s almost too sick to believe.
But I can hear the regret in his voice, and it gnaws on my heart.
Fuck me.
This is some tough shit.
He’s been silent for some time now, so I guess his story has ended.
Or he doesn’t want to continue. I don’t blame him.
“Holy fuck …” I say after a while to break the silence.
“I told you, you were right,” he growls, and then he points his finger at me. “And if you ever tell this shit to anyone else, I’ll kill ya.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat as he taps on my chest. I’m not sure if it’s a real threat or an empty one. “Relax; I’m not going to tell anyone.”
I put my hands up to show my resignation. Hell, I don’t think I could make anyone believe his story, even if I said it was true, so it wouldn’t make sense to tell anyone anyway.
He glares at me for a second before backing down again. “So … now, you know.”
“Why you’re always brooding, yeah, but it doesn’t explain anything about your mask.”
“Tough luck,” he says with a grunt. “I’m done with stories.”
“Hey, you’re not the only one with a bad rep, okay? I did some bad shit too.”
“Like what?” he snaps.
“I wasn’t always a hooker, you know …” I say, pushing a lock of my black hair behind my ear. “Before I was making any money, we were living on the streets, Alisha and me. We kept moving from place to place. We’ve only just gotten an actual place to call home. But we don’t have any other family, except for each other.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t interrupt me, so I continue.
“But a long time before that, we used to have a mom. I was so fucking young, and I barely remember her at all, but I can still hear her voice in my head sometimes. She keeps telling me to run … and I don’t know why.” I take a deep breath. “Whatever.”
Suddenly, his hand is on my shoulder, pushing me back into the wall. “You were homeless. How long ago?”
I raise a brow. I don’t understand why he’s so interested. “I don’t know. Years ago, I was too young to remember.”
His eyes flash with something, anger, resentment … or maybe surprise.
“Where’s your mom?” he asks.
I jerk away from his grip. “Like I know. I haven’t seen her since some guy took my sis and me away from her. I don’t even remember what he looks like,” I spit. “And fuck that dude; we were left to fend for ourselves. On the fucking streets, like rats, because he had to take us away from our home.”
Out of nowhere, he grips the back of my head and twists me around.
“Ow!” I yell. “Fuck, what are you doing?”
“Hold still,” he says, and he swipes my hair away.