I want them to cover him up, to show him some dignity. I know they won’t, though.
Slowly, Langston starts to awaken. His head rolls side to side. At first, he doesn’t have the strength to even lift his head. But he won’t let anyone see him as weak.
It takes everything in him, but he lifts his head up, and then it’s like he’s looking right at me into a nearby camera. He’s telling me he’s fine. That he isn’t broken. That he survived. And I was the one who helped him survive.
Me.
I’m whom he thought about to get through it.
Not Phoenix.
Not Siren.
Not some other whore.
Not his kids.
Me.
I don’t know what to do with that information. It’s a lot to take.
Finally, Langston is led out of the room, and we can no longer see him. I know from experience he will be given a room where he can shower, take a hot bath, eat some food, and drink some coffee. There is also a screen to watch the rest of the round if he so chooses.
He’s safe now.
Just for now, not for later. Later is the opposite of safe.
What did I do? Why did I bring him here?
I didn’t, he followed. This isn’t my fault.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Ms. White and Mr. Beckett, your turn,” Mr. Reyes says, entering the room.
We both nod, but don’t show any emotion. Soon one or both of us is going to be as beat up and broken as Langston. I hope Beckett realizes what he’s gotten himself into now.
He can still stop this before it goes too far. I don’t know what his trauma is, but everyone has trauma. Everyone has a past they are running from—Beckett is no different.
I only know pieces of his story. He’s the half brother of Enzo Black. Their family is darker than any I know. Beckett’s full name is Eli Beckett, but he’s always gone by his last name. I know that he’s close to Enzo’s kids. I don’t know how he lost his arm, just that he helped to save Enzo and Kai. Once he did that, he became more a part of the group than I ever could be.
I don’t want to belong to their criminal gang. I’ve tried most of my life to get out, to stop belonging. Now I finally succeeded. They all entered the game just to show me how much they hate me and are on Langston’s side.
Beckett remained till the end. I thought he had a woman he cared about. Nora, was it? Apparently, they aren’t that close.
“If you’re ready, you can follow me, Ms. White and Mr. Beckett,” Mr. Reyes says.
We both stand at the same time. Beckett holds his hand out to indicate I should go first.
I follow Mr. Reyes while Beckett walks behind me.
I have a few ideas of what awaits me in the room now that it’s my turn. I’ve been here before. They know my weaknesses, my strengths, and my fears.
We enter the room, and Mr. Reyes locks the door behind us.
Beckett and I exchange glances, knowing the lines we will cross if we both try to win this game. I don’t give a damn who tortures me, who fucks me. As long as it’s not Langston, it doesn’t matter.
There are two white, labeled cards on the small table in the center of the room. We walk over and pick up our respective card, neither of us letting the other see what’s on our own card.
I read mine:
White,
You already knew what this round would be—a rematch of your last round here. You survived once, but can you survive again?
X
I grip the paper tightly in my hand, crumpling it into a little ball.
I never got over what happened here the last time. To relive it would be my greatest hell. It’s one thing to go through it once and survive. It’s another to know exactly what’s coming, to have visions of the last time haunting my head while it’s happening again, and to not mutter my safe word.
I still haven’t looked at my safe word. I won’t until the final round. I’ve already made the choice. I’ll finish this round. I’ll either die or win. There is no pulling myself out.
I glance over at Beckett, who has a stern expression under his black mask.
He doesn’t like what’s on his card either.
I don’t care if he stays or leaves. My card will be carried out whether he continues the game or not, just like what happened to Langston.
I try to think of Langston, try to let my thoughts drift to him, soaking his wounds in a warm tub right now.
It makes me smile.
Langston may be my enemy, and he may be the devil, but he’s slipped through my defenses to wiggle a tiny piece of himself into my heart. I can’t help but care a little about the bastard.
Plus, holding onto any positive thoughts of Langston for as long as I can will help me. Or it will twist him deeper into my soul and make me hate him more…
“You have five minutes to prepare,” the familiar voice announces.
I don’t need five minutes, but it gives me time to be in control.
I reach behind my head, and I remove my mask, lying it carefully on the table. I kick off my heels, too. Unfortunately, I’m going to need Beckett’s help for the next part.
“Can you help me unzip my dress?” I ask him.
He stands frozen, looking at me like he thinks he just imagined me speaking. He’s probably in shock from what is on his card.
I sigh, poor man.
I walk over to him and take his card.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving you for the next five minutes.”
I crinkle his card into a ball and toss it on the floor. It makes a satisfying bounce as it slides away from us. Then I take Beckett’s hand.
“Help me,
