Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,8

do.

I look straight ahead now, my eyes slightly lowered.

Just look like a doll. It’s simple.

I concentrate on feeling dead inside as the seconds tick by.

His amused chuckle pulls me out of my thoughts, the sound carrying easily from his mask around the silent tent. He leans in close to my ear. No one else would even see his lips moving, but I hear it clearly enough. “That thousand-yard stare isn’t fooling me, little girl.”

He drops my chin and turns away, walking toward the exit. “Maxim, I would speak with you. Now.”

The others all clamor to follow him, and I wonder if he is actually the hired help at all?

But then maybe the four suited men are just nervous to be without him in a place like this. Perhaps they do not speak our language, and he is their translator as well as their muscle. A fucked-up tour guide.

That would make sense. And explain the costume.

Maxim glances back once in our direction as he follows, only to order us all back to our dwellings.

I locate Ruby in the line of girls, who tries her best to give me a weak smile.

There will be no closing performance tonight.

I curl up with my pillows under my blankets and try everything possible to stop my stomach from clenching up, but nothing I think about seems to be helping. Denial, the thing I’ve been trying to do since I got back here, has only made it worse.

I think one of those four suited men are to be my monster.

The thing that has hung over me since I was old enough to understand how it worked. The thing that was always so inevitable, and yet I tried so hard not to think about it. One of them is probably going to buy me tonight.

Perhaps if I just accept that, it will make it easier.

One of them had dark hair, two of them grey, though one was salt and pepper and the other silver, and one of them was completely bald. All of them were much older than me, maybe in their fifties or sixties. Two overweight, two average build.

If I had to choose… I probably couldn’t.

None of them were a man you would choose.

I’ve often pitied Ruby, but tonight I really wish I could be more like her. None of it ever seems to phase her.

I wish I could say the same.

She has tried to teach me over the years, both how I should act and what I should do. She’s told me what to expect. What men generally like. How to be more pleasing.

Some of them want you to want them like you want your next breath.

Some of them want you to run and kick and scream.

I shudder at the thought of it, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why can’t I just accept what everyone else has no problem with?

That is the way of the world.

I’m not better than any of the girls. I don’t deserve special treatment, so why have I come to expect it?

The curtains that cover the opening of the cave move and my head darts up from between the pillows, only to let out a sigh of relief when I see it’s only Denim.

Denim.

Denim with his mop of dark hair looking even more disheveled than usual and a fraught expression on his face.

I already suspect my relief was premature.

“Which one is it?” I ask. Better to get it out of the way before he can start stumbling over his words.

“It is… Hum.”

“Hum?”

He nods.

I still don’t believe him.

Hum is not one of them. Hum is the one who guards the entrance to the cave and turns the wheel to let people in and out. He is a giant. Hum is harmless, but he’s so harmless it’s almost criminal to think Denim could mean what he says. He has the mental capability of a six-year-old, and that is being quite generous.

“You can’t be serious,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

Regardless of the other reasons, I’m convinced Hum would break every bone in my body. His weight alone would be enough to crush me. I’m only slightly over five feet tall—he is probably seven!

The thought of it makes me feel sick.

“I’m afraid so. They want to see you get fucked by a giant.”

I nod, not really being able to process what he’s saying. They can afford my fee, clearly. But instead of buying me for themselves, they would rather watch me suffer.

“Can