Follow the Rules Ch. 03

"La puta le gusta la atenciόn," he said, giving me a small shove towards the black man.

The black man smiled at me, showing several gold teeth among his own yellowed ones.

"She likes it, does she?" he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Well, now, I have a few things I could teach a young whore like this one."

I didn't respond. Instead I focused all my attention on Zachary, willing him to look at me, to protect me. He was resolutely not looking at me. Had he truly not noticed me here? He was still speaking rapidly at them, pointing at large sheets of paper spread out on the table.

I stiffened as a felt bony fingers grab my breast from the side. The grip wasn't too tight but my breasts were incredibly tender from their earlier beating. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

"Does she give good head?" the black man asked my rapist.

"Oh, yes, negro. She takes it deep."

"How much?"

"I don't know. She's a prime piece, negro. Just used her once."

"I'll give her back after, you know that. I don't rough them up like you."

My rapist chuckled again. "Two hundred."

The black man scoffed. "For two hundred I could get any whore. She costs you nothing."

I felt a panic in my chest. They were negotiating over me. I wanted Zachary to get me out of here now. I had to restrain myself from standing up and calling to him. I knew he was here undercover and it would only blow his cover to beg him openly, helping neither of us. But this was going bad quickly.

I focused back on the conversation taking place above my head to hear the two of them agree on a price.

"Fine. One hundred dollars. One hour."

"Done."

The black man stood up and started pulling me with him towards the door. A few of the gang members glanced up, but, of course, no one made a move to stop him. I couldn't leave the room with him. I'd only get raped again and Zachary was here, for god's sake.

I resisted, struggling and wiggling as he dragged me towards the door.

"Wait," a voice called. I sighed in relief.

A man next to Zachary had spoken. The black man and I both ceased our struggles, turning towards the cluster of men around the table. We both stood still, awaiting our sentences.

"I bought her fair and square," the black man said.

Zachary looked up from the table and his eyes met mine. They were cold. That cold chilled me to my bones. I couldn't read anything in his eyes, not any emotion, not any memories of what we shared. It was like looking at a stranger -- a stranger who looked exactly like my lover.

"Please," I said. Maybe everyone else thought it was a plea for mercy, and in a way it was, but it was just for Zachary. I wanted him to show me it was really him, and reassure me that I'd be okay.

His face remained completely blank, not even a twitch betrayed his thoughts at my cry.

"El jefe?" The black man asked.

My eyes widened as I realized he was talking to Zachary.

Zachary didn't look at the black man, just continued looking straight into my eyes emotionlessly.

"We're busy. Take her and get out," Zachary said.

I couldn't help it -- my mouth gaped open in shock, then horror.

The words kept replaying in my mind like some sick joke. Maybe in my delirium of pain and shock I had forgotten how to understand English. Maybe he was talking about someone else, or meant something else. But of course there was no other explanation. Zachary had just sent me to my rape.

I barely noticed as the black man pulled me from the room.

I hadn't realized exactly how much hope I had been pinning on Zachary. Not just that he would physically rescue me from this place, but also that he was there for me, that he was one of the good guys, and he wanted me.

Now it appeared that he was the new boss. Was he still undercover, or was he actually working for the gang?

But that was really a theoretical question for me, because it didn't change the reality that I was being towed down the hallway with my new rapist. He shoved me into the room I had been before. Was this the rape room? They should make an office placard so anyone getting lost would know where to go. Rapes happen here.

The irony was that I actually felt safer in this room. Here there was only one man to rape me, and I knew pretty much what would happen. The exact order and orifices might vary, but rape was rape. Out there in that room with all those men, exposed. And then Zachary, my would-be savior, who'd acted like he didn't know me, and then unceremoniously sent me here to be raped again.

My body hurt from my earlier beating and rape, but that was nothing compared to the whole in my heart. I didn't even want to believe it, because it made my current predicament that much more pathetic, but I knew the searing pain I felt at every breath wasn't caused by my earlier beating, but by Zachary's callousness. I blinked as tears came to my eyes, and felt them track slowly down my face. I turned to face my new rapist, determined to face this with whatever dignity I had left. I had nothing left to lose.

The black man closed the door behind us. "Get on the bed," he said to me.