That’s it. I’m fucked.
I struggled to keep any hope alive inside me.
He spoke quietly with them again. It was all hushed tones, open body language. Sammy looked serious, then a half smile was tagged on. They shook hands. Richard started back towards me, his face unreadable.
Is this it? Are they going to kill me? Is there any way out of this?
I felt helpless. I wished it to at least be over. I didn’t want to die, but I also didn’t want it to go on any longer. I wished I was high. Stoned to fuck, drunk on cheap wine, where I could happily float above it all. All wrapped up in a dimmed bubble, safe from all of this.
But I was cold sober and plain cold. I felt everything. Especially all that had been done to me.
Pain – it was everywhere.
Searing, whole.
I couldn’t separate the ache from one area of my body to another anymore. The pain swept across me in waves.
The burns, the bruises, the gashes. Breasts. Legs. Face.
I was hot; the ground was hot beneath me too. I was sweating. My clothes were ragged and worn, and so were my protruding limbs.
Thirst.
I longed for a cool drink of water pouring past my chapped lips. I’d shove a cigarette in between them after too – I’d take a long, rich drag if my battered lungs would allow it.
But I had none of those things, I had nothing. I wasn’t getting away from here. There was nowhere for me to go.
Trapped.
It was hopeless. I barely clung to life at all. Just ‘being’ was slipping from my grasp.
It would all end soon.
How had it come to this?
I suppose I knew how.
I have blood on my hands too.
Real blood.
Richard bent forwards over me once again, his voice was low, but housed within a layer of steel.
“I’ve done my best for you Vicky.”
“What’s happening?” I asked quickly, attempting to cover brittleness with defiance.
He puffed out his cheeks and stood, brushing his hands down his jacket. He blew out air.
“They want to dangle you over here until your legs catch fire.”
I blinked away some loose tears, but kept my jaw firm.
“Then they’ll beat them until the flames are out. Then they’ll hold you over again. They’ll do it until there isn’t much left to kill.”
“Well they’re sick fucks then aren’t they? They’ve already told me all this anyway.”
He stared straight at me, “I half agree with you there, Victoria. That’s why I’ve convinced them not to do it.”
He stopped and I detected a smirk. My heart was racing. I had hope again. I was desperate to live.
“They’re just going to kill you.”
I crumpled.
“No torture, just finish you off.”
His voice was sickeningly blasé.
“Richard you can’t let this happen. You can’t do this!” I screeched, my voice shivering as it reached a crescendo.
“Shhhhh,” he said, gesturing lightly, “They might change their minds. Sammy didn’t much like you going for him.”
“What does he fuckin’ expect! I don’t like all this much either!”
He shrugged again. He was acting like a surly waiter who didn’t give a shit if your steak was overdone. His manner was no more, no less.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Well, you’re actually doing it. You stole the stuff – remember? Well – that’s what they think. I’ve told them the reason you won’t tell them where the stuff is, is because you’ve probably already sold it on. If you had and didn’t talk, you’d be thinking you may have a chance.”
“Fucker,” I shouted in a gravelly voice, I hardly recognised as my own.
I scrambled to get up off of the dirt, but he shoved my head back down and the others stopped still.
“Fucker,” I repeated, quieter.
“I told them that to spare you additional torture. You should be grateful.”
“Grateful?” I screamed and went to jump up to hit him again.
I scrabbled at his arm, while trying to jostle back up again. He easily side stepped and grabbed me by a handful of hair as I pushed myself up.
“Owww!” I screamed in yet more pain.
He yanked my hair back further with one hand, my hair trying to twist painfully out of my scalp. He grabbed my chin with the other. The mild mannered, handsome and intelligent man had now completely disappeared. Something primal and repulsive had taken over.
“You’re going to die anyway. I’ve just made it easier on you. It’s more than you deserve, you little bitch.”
His teeth were clenched. He was literally snarling at me.
I winced with pain, but tried to remain standing, and I tried not to show my tears. I just stared at him, through him.
The other three had started to come forward, then halted a few paces away.
He held me in front of him, my hair pulled back, barely able to stand. My hands gripped his on my head, attempting to brace the pull. He raised his voice, addressing us all.
“My business associates here have agreed to be reasonable. They recognise that it was not my fault that you robbed us. More than that – I lost a husband. I will still be paid the full price for our little transaction. I am fortunate.”
He pulled back harder and a yelp escaped from somewhere in my throat.
“Good for you,” I said, gritting my own teeth.
“Yeah,” he said simply and released my hair.
I fell down again. He turned his back on the others. Then he carried on talking, as if discussing the weather with an Englishman.
“It was Ivan who wanted to retire from all of this. Not me.”
“I’m glad it’s all worked out so well for you,” I replied sardonically.
“I wouldn’t say everything is rosy,” he said, his voice hardened. He bent down and hit me hard across the face again.
I barely felt it. Maybe I was becoming numb after all.
I just stared at him, I tried to muster a glare.
“At least there is something fitting about
