stadium for the big show, we might have a little bit of alone time.”
What was there to say? There was nothing.
“Now, I’m thinking that the two of us might try something new. The bench feels so … impersonal.”
He began to undress, a complicated business of leather and buckles. He kicked off his boots, his pants. As he went about his grand unveiling, Alicia could only watch in mute revulsion. She felt like she had about ten different Alicias in her head, each with a single scrap of information lacking any reference to the others. And yet: alone time. That was new, she thought. That was a definite wrinkle in the proceedings. Usually there were four of them: one to operate the winch, two to take her down, plus Sod. Where were the others?
Alone time.
“I’m begging you,” she croaked, “just don’t make it hurt. I’ll make it good for you.”
“That’s very sporting.”
“Let me down and I’ll show you how good.”
He considered this.
“Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“You can leave the shackles on. I promise I’ll cooperate. I’ll give you everything you want.”
In his face, she saw the idea taking hold. She was naked, beaten. What could a woman in her condition do? The keys were clipped to the belt loop of his trousers, lying on the floor behind him. Alicia forced herself not to look at them.
“There might be something to that,” Sod said.
The chains, which ran through a block hung from the ceiling, were operated by a lever affixed to the wall. Pantless, engorged, Sod stepped toward it and unlocked the brake. A rattle overhead; Alicia’s feet touched down.
“More slack,” she said. “I’ll need to move.”
A sleepy, sexual grin. “I like your thinking.”
The pressure on her wrists released. “A little more.”
Her tactic had to be obvious, but the man’s anticipation trumped the last of his judgment. Alicia’s arms fell to her sides. She now had eight feet of slack to play with.
“No funny stuff, now.”
She lowered herself to all fours in invitation. Sod moved behind her, joining her on the floor.
“I’ll make it good for you,” she said. “I promise.”
As he placed his hands on her hips, she drew her right foot to her chest and smashed it into his face. A crack and then a yelp; Alicia shot to her feet and swung around. He was sitting on the floor, holding his nose, dark blood gushing through his fingers.
“You fucking bitch!”
He lurched toward her, going for her throat. The question was who got to whom first. Alicia stepped back, arced one hand from her side, forming a lasso with the chain, and tossed it forward.
The loop dropped over his head. She yanked him toward her, stepping aside and using his momentum to spin him around. Now she had him from behind. With the other hand she formed a second loop of chain and dropped it around his neck. A quick hop and she had her legs around his waist. He was making a gurgling noise, his arms flailing at the air. Die, you pig, she thought, just die, and with all her strength she rocked her weight backward, tugging the chains like the reins of a horse, sending them pitching toward the ground until with a hard jolt the slack ran out, the block above them caught and held, and Alicia heard the sound she longed for: a satisfying pop of bone.
They were suspended eighteen inches off the floor. Two hundred pounds of dead weight now lay on top of her. She tucked her legs beneath her, arched her back, and pushed. Sod’s body folded forward onto its knees, pitching face-first onto the concrete as she unlooped the chains from his neck. She scooped the keys from the floor and undid the shackles and tore them from her wrists.
Then she was kicking him, stomping on his head, smashing his face into the concrete with the hard nub of her heel. Her mind collapsed in a roar of hatred. She seized him by the hair and dragged his lifeless form across the cell and propped him upright to hammer his head against the wall. “How do you like that, you piece of shit? You like that broken neck? You like me killing you?”
Maybe there was somebody outside the cell, and maybe there wasn’t. Maybe more men would rush in and chain her to the ceiling and start it all again. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Sod’s head. She