Provoke

Mace

I hadn’t heard from Leeta since Tuesday. There had been a missed call from the day before, but whenever I tried calling back, I got no response. That concerned me, but just then I had bigger things to worry about.

The time had passed so slowly all day, but now it seemed to be racing toward seven at full speed. I hadn’t bothered going home; I’d stayed back at work and caught up on some paperwork. With each minute that passed, the anxiety in the pit of my stomach grew. So many things could go wrong, but I needed to do this. There was no backing out now.

At twenty minutes to, I grabbed my keys and left.

Our meeting place was an abandoned house that Cash had arranged for me—a derelict old shack. Looking at it from the outside, you wouldn’t expect inside to house a perfectly set-out room. I walked through the hallway, taking in the peeling wallpaper and rotting wood frames, and entered the room.

One room, right up the back of the house.

It was freshly painted a sterile white. Mirrors lined the walls. The white sheets on the four-poster bed, and the steel table and chairs gave the place a very clinical feel.

Three cameras were positioned around the room to ensure every moment was captured.

It was through these cameras that he would be watching.

The highest bidder, paying some exuberant sum to interact in a live rape that would be streamed through a private webpage to his computer.

And I was the rapist. Only, I couldn’t do that. The thought of putting anyone through that kind of pain made me sick. And angry. So fucking angry.

“Hi, Mace.”

I turned around and smiled at Cassandra. Her long, blond hair hung in waves down her back. Her brown eyes looked unusually large as she peered around the room. She had been here before, but I guess, just like for me, this didn’t get any easier for her.

“Cassandra. How are you?” Probably an awkward thing to say to the woman you were about to pretend to rape on camera, but what could I say? I get awkward when I’m shitting myself.

“Good. Nervous.” She looked down, her hands clutching at her handbag. She wore a pretty green sundress that hung just above her knees.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” I walked toward her, placing my arm on her shoulder. She relaxed and nodded.

“I know. I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to help.”

From the start, I was very open with the women I employed. They knew my family, and most of them had known Anna personally. Her death had rocked the worlds of many people. These girls supported what I was doing. That, and many of them had done much worse than this for a few dollars.

At least I was compensating them well.

“I’m going to have to tie you to that chair.” I pointed to the white steel chair that sat next to the bed. She nodded and began to undress. I turned around to give her some privacy. Privacy? I was about to fuck her under someone else’s direction, and I was concerned about her privacy? This whole thing was twisted.

The truth was, if there were any other way, I wouldn’t be doing this.

I hated every fucking minute of it. The entire time, my head was filled with thoughts of Leeta. I hated myself for doing this to her, but I’d hate myself even more if I didn’t.

Cassandra sat down in the seat. I began to wind the ropes around her, securing her into place. Fuck—she’s terrified. Her eyes, those eyes show so much fear. I kneeled in front of her, taking her hand in mine.

“I’m here, Cass. No matter what happens, just remember that it’s me, and I’d never hurt you, okay? I’m so sorry I have to do this to you.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay, Mace. I’ll be fine.”

“I . . . you know I can’t stop once I start, right?” I asked her softly, touching her face with my thumb.

“I know,” she whispered.

#

Seven o’clock. Showtime.

I glanced over at Cass, who was tied up in her chair, blindfold and mouth gag in place. My heart dropped. Was this what Anna had been put through? I clenched my fists beside me as I walked over to switch the cameras on.