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“To answer your question,” Delila murmurs, moving to me. “You were part of the plan. I’ve known about you since you were a child. I’ve known where you were all along.”
“Is that right?” Kosta stands from his chair, coming closer. “They’re forgetting one other person that they stole from you, Little Doll.”
My breathing picks up as a tingling sensation forms over my flesh. “What?”
His lips curve around his gold teeth as a grin beams from him. “Hope.”
I freeze. The room changes.
“Hmmm, really?” Killian moves Kosta out of the way. “You really thought you could play that card on her.”
“I don’t need to.” Kosta smiles in triumph. “She’s already mine.”
Chills break out over my flesh as flashbacks fly through my brain. I’m conflicted. My head pounds as the two sides of myself battle with each other. My stomach sinks as my focus flashes between Killian and Kosta.
Someone who did despicable things to me, to us all, but also conditioned us to make us feel important. Wanted. Is that what abusers do? They violate not only your body, but your mind. Hope said it was normal. Everyone said it was normal. Everyone I trusted.
“She was the bug that you planted in Midnight Mayhem…” King whispers to himself, and I turn to face him as he seethes at Delila. “You can’t just overrule the Four Fathers and expect there to be no consequences to your actions.”
Kosta’s eyebrows draw in, his stance becoming restless, as he slowly stumbles back to his chair. “No, this was my plan. I needed you all here so that I could finally take over the business that was mine to begin with. Saskia was my weapon, not yours,” Kosta sneers at Delila.
Delila smirks, lighting a smoke and blowing out the cloud. “Wrong. She was mine, and now I get to kill you for what you did that day to Kyrin, Kosta, and for what you do to all of the children of Kiznitch. I brought her in with the intention of bringing Patience down. This has been pla
Silence rings out loudly. In slow motion, my eyes fly to Killian and his to mine. I did a quick search over his body as his eyes dropped down mine. Spi
I flinch when I see Delila on the ground, blood spilling out of her ear. I quickly spin around to face Lilith, just as shots fire off behind us in fast waves. I start crawling toward Delila when someone grabs me by the ankle and yanks me backward.
Killian is glaring down at me as I lay flat on my back. “If you fuckin’ die, I’ll kill everyone here. Don’t fucking move.”
I pull away from his touch. “You killed my father.”
“I did.” His lips curl.
“You killed Hope!” I yell, right in his face.
His nose presses against mine slightly as his eyes frantically move between mine. “I fuckin’ did.”
“Why?” I choke out. My throat is tight, unwilling to let any other words through. You will not cry. You will not cry.
He brings his hand up to my cheek. “Because they’re fucking bad people.” The shots firing off in the background and smell of spilled metallic blood soon drifts into the background and it’s just Killian and I having an argument in the middle of a damn war.
“You’re a bad person, too,” I whisper, as a small tear slips from the corner of my eye.
“Fuck,” he grunts, catching the tear with his thumb and bringing it to his mouth to lick it off. “Yeah, babe, I am, I’m the fucking worst. But to beat the monsters, one must become one.”
“Killian! Get them out!” Kallisto screams from the background.
I spin around to see Kyrin throwing a feisty Lilith over his shoulder.
“Get up,” Killian murmurs, but I don’t. I have to check on Delila. Spi
“She’s gone, baby. Get up. We need to get you out of here.”
I pull away from him. “I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t trust you either.” He glares at me.
“So why are you helping me? I’m a lost cause.”
He pauses, searching my eyes. “People are only lost because they don’t have anyone willing to find them.”
“I’m so lost, Kill. I’m—I remember everything, Killian. What he did to me. I’m stuck with him. This is all I really know.”
Killian presses the cushion of his thumb to my lips. “Fuck what he did to you. You were a victim. Just like all the others, which is why we needed to bring them down. You think you’re the only one who has been on the end of his dick? You’re not, and he’s had younger. If he’s not selling them at his shows, then he’s got them under him.”
“I went to a show a few times—” My eyes close as images flash through my head. “There was this one time, when someone asked if I was for sale.”
“Yeah?” Killian asks, his eyebrows raised. “Tell me what you remember about that night…”
“I—” I chew on my lips.
“Dig deep. Tell me what you remember. The red light? What else…” Gunshots pound off in the background as my mind slips back into a memory…
I walked down the long corridor, the cold, damp walls leaking with mildew and the smell. The smell would be something that I would remember forever. Like damp concrete and fermented flesh. Squeezing my hands into fists, I knew what it was that I was supposed to do—play with fire. I was thirteen years old, but I had been practicing for years now, almost having the poi and staff down to perfection, but this would be the first time that I would be performing in Patience. Hope said it’s okay and that it’s normal. I wasn’t for sale, I was a child of Patience and we’re not for sale. We put on a show with the people who are to be sold. Hope said that they’re willing, wanting this life. I chose not to listen to anything and to keep to myself.
I was Kosta’s favorite, and he liked to share me out whenever the right time came.
“Saskia, you’re up!” The doors opened, and I was met with a dark room and a single red light bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. It allowed me to see the audience, to an extent. The audience is the same, with them all wearing a masquerade mask to hide their identity. Each person is assigned a pager. If they want to bid on one of the girls or boys, they page in and a waiter comes to them to take their bid and order.
Picking up my torch, I light the end and slowly swish liquid around my mouth before blowing harshly against the end. Flames react to the area, lighting up the crowd. A big one. I go through my steps as girls and boys walk across the stage to Marilyn Manson “Kill4U.” I flipped the staff around and go through my routine like a robot, manufactured by Patience. When I’ve finished up, I drop down off the stage as Jessika, one of our waitresses, waltzes over to me.
She nudged her head to the back of her shoulder, leaning into my ear. “Got people asking if you’re for sale…”