‘’DON’T CALL ME A WHORE!!!’’ I scream at him irrationally, flashing rage at that little trigger word,
anger fighting to the forefront over the pain and I’m getting erratic. Whore is a word I hate above all
else, a word I have been called over and over by anyone and everyone who wants to put me down.
Someone giving me a label like that means they can justify how they treat me, as though I am not
human and don’t deserve any sort of respect.
A whore is a choice, and it never was for me, it was a means to survive, and I am sick to death of being
treated like that’s all I am. A vessel to fuck, a body to abuse …
Alexi doesn’t react to my outburst, just stays calm and unmoveable. Sometimes I wonder if he is even
human at all. He’s so devoid of normal emotions and reactions, it’s like he’s a bloody cyborg.
‘’You fuck men to make money, you’re a whore … get over it. You chose that life so wear the title.’’ I
swear he sounds no different to a school teacher spelling out the meaning to some random word and I
snap, like some bubbling volcano from deep within, after a night of analysing and torturing myself with
memories on this very topic—it comes out of nowhere and I scream at him with all my might.
‘’I never chose this life! I never chose to be this way! I was eleven years old when my mother held me
down and let men rape me for drugs. Don’t tell me what I chose because I never chose that! I never
chose to be a prisoner for years, or beaten and raped half to death to the point I wanted to die so many
times over. I never chose to live my life running, hiding, lying to get by and I sure as hell never chose
servitude and ending up with bastards like you!!!’’ The words are not enough and I am against him in a
flash, lashing out, slapping at his stupid body and head in a bid to expel all the rage and pain that has
been building up for hours. It’s like I am consumed with a burning, blinding white insanity. Sparks and
fury flying free in a bid to expel all that I feel. Crazily apt on my limbs that were molten a moment ago
as I go at him with everything I have left in me.
Claws, fists, feet and more. Alexi is getting the brunt of a million beatings that I have endured. I’m
heaving air in an effort to breathe as even my lungs burn with the fiery pits of hell. Alexi is stronger and
faster than me and with a flash of brute force he spins us both and bodily slams me back against the
wall, almost knocking the wind out of me, and shocking me out of the barrage of slaps I was firing at
him. His hand is around my throat as he pins me and pain slices through my body from the collision.
It’s enough to turn me to dead weight and I cannot swallow with the vicious grip he has on me; my
throat feeling like its closing up and I choke on my own saliva in panic. I instantly recoil to weak and
repentant but it’s too late, what’s done is done. He comes nose to nose with so much hatred and
aggression I practically recoil into my shoes.
‘’I told you never to lay hands on me.’’ It’s the sadistic tone and the eyes of complete emptiness that
send me into terrified hysteria, my blood running cold. He looks like a man who will beat me half to
death without remorse or effort.
I start grabbing at his jacket in panic as his hand closes around my throat even more firmly to hold me
still. I gasp in fright that he might actually strangle me this time, clawing at his hand at my neck and
freaking out. My head is lost between reality and memory of men who went a lot further and the things
they did, and I am in a blind panic. I know what it’s like to be choked until you pass out; that horrible
awful fear and panic to breathe, while your mind drifts and fades, only to wake up to horrendous acts
upon your body and have them do it all over again.
I won’t let him do this to me. I won’t let him keep hurting me.
I start trying to push at him to get him off, hands raking his jacket and shirt and trying to claw at his
neck. He catches one of my wrists and slams my hand into the wall over my head in a bid to stop me,
sending another stabbing pain to my body, another way to inflict fear as I am restrained.
He is still in my face and looking terrifying. I have no clue what he is planning as he silently smirks at
my pitiful attempts to break free, but all I can think of is what he is capable of. Tying me up, using me
for his own ends and then snapping me in two when he is done. I am in no doubt with that satanic look
on his face that I have met my last night on this Earth, Alexi will kill me.
My free hand collides with something cold and hard under his arm within his jacket that hurts my
knuckles and I instantly hone in for it in case it’s heavy enough to be used against him. Grappling at
what feels like a smooth metal and leather device Alexi looks down with a hesitated glance as I catch
hold of it.
Almost like slow motion, I realise with a flash that it’s the gun he sometimes carries. Right there, within
my grasp.
Almost without thought, and quicker than he can release me to make a grab for it, I yank it free from its
holster as he makes for the same thing, knowing he fucked up by letting me at it. I knew he sometimes
carried one, it’s not the first time I have seen him with a holster. I just never thought I would ever be
laying hands on it in a bid to save myself from him.
Even drunk I am oddly faster, fear fuelled as adrenaline soars through me, my heart pounding into my
head and gasping for air. I push the gun at his chest with speed while he is still trying to go for my arms
and shove him backwards with more force than I thought I was capable of. For the first time ever, like
some crazy alternate universe, I manage to physically push him back because he is caught off guard
and he stumbles a few steps away before righting himself.
I grab onto the steel with two hands shaking violently and aim it right at his chest. My hands sweating
and fear pumping through my veins at a rate of knots, sobering me slightly and highlighting the
complete ‘’no way out’’ situation I find myself in.
Alexi goes from anger to amusement in an instant transformation. The devil in that face of his, quaking
me to my soul. He breaks into a sardonic grin that makes my blood curdle and moves back to stand
casually in front of me, almost lounging indifferently. Not the reaction of a sane person at all, and not
one you can reason with to save your own life.
I am so screwed.
‘‘You going to shoot me, London?’’ He smirks at me and crosses his arms across his wide expanse of
chest. Any other time and place he would look like a guy confidently standing in a queue or waiting for
a bus.
What the hell is wrong with you, Alexi?
‘’I … I …’’ I’m frantically trying to think, knowing I just made this a whole lot worse, and if I put the gun
down now then God knows what he will do to me. The blonde has gotten up and run to hide behind the
bedroom door, squealing in fear and I wave it around in agitation as her noise gets louder and more
hysterical.
‘’Shut up, shut up you stupid bitch.’’ I cannot think with the hellish noise she is making, and I am in
freak out mode. She stops screeching and slams her mouth shut as though she thinks I might shoot
her first and I try and reel in my scattered brain. I have never held a real gun and the fact it’s here in my
hand, heavy and cold, much heavier than I imagined it would be, makes this a whole lot more sickening
to me. I’m terrified of what I hold. My heart is pounding through my chest until I think it may burst out
and Alexi is way too calm, standing watching me. He doesn’t seem to care that a gun is pointing his
way at all and I think I care more than he does, even though I’m the one holding the damn thing.
Breaking into cold sweats as nausea rises in my throat I swear I might have a heart attack. The girl is
mumbling now, trying to keep quiet, but he’s acting like she is not even here. Those cold grey eyes
honed in on me and I just want to curl up and die.
I don’t know how to get out of this. He will make life unbearable and I have nowhere else to run
anymore. Mico isn’t here to stop him and the girl won’t intervene in any way; he will kill me for this.
I put a gun to his chest—Alexi Carrero’s chest.
Jesus Christ, Camilla!
I am unsure what else to do except keep him at bay and prolong the inevitable until I can think about
what I am doing. I threatened the life of a Carrero. You do not walk away from that unscathed.
‘’Are you going to do something with that or keep waving it around?’’ Alexi draws me back to his face
and I lift it up and point it his way a little more intently, trying to fake bravado, telling him to stay back.
My hands are shaking, and I can see the gun is shaking so badly that he has to be able to see it too.
He’ll know how much I am freaking out inside. I have my finger in the trigger space and it feels so alien
in my hands. So heavy it’s making my arms ache.
I don’t know what to do. It’s like my brain is stuttering and failing to kick start, blank emptiness as panic
circles around and around inside and all I want is to be anywhere but here.
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