Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

I met his eyes, looking for even a drop of humanity in there, anything at all to reason with.

There was nothing.

No compassion. No kindness. No soul.

I stared at his knuckles as he smoked his cigarette, wondering which of my sister’s bruises they were responsible for.

His lips were weird when I got close enough to see him properly. Scarred and distorted. His nose was splayed wide above, crooked as hell, no doubt from a few breakages.

He stank of weed and sweat when I stepped right up.

I’d have backed away if not for the hands that gripped my shoulders from behind and slammed my back against the wall.

“What you fucking doing here?” Weird Lips snarled at me. “Pretty girl like you thinking she can bail her fuck-up sister out of shit. What you fucking got for us?”

I lifted my bag, trying my best not to lose the final dregs of my cool. “Three grand in cash,” I told him. “You can have it. I’ll come back with the rest, I just need time.”

He snatched the bag from my fingers and tore into it, throwing my college books to the ground without a care until he found the stash of notes hidden deep.

He flicked through the bundles as I watched, his efforts illuminated by the other guy’s mobile phone light.

He looked truly hideous in the glow.

“Three grand ain’t even close to fucking cutting it,” he grunted, stashing it in his pocket regardless. He tossed my bag aside and stepped on up to me. “Know how much she owes us?”

“Twenty-five,” I said, “she told me.”

He shook his head. “It was twenty-five a few fucking months ago. It’s double that now.”

My eyes widened. “Double?!”

“Double,” he said.

I held his stare. “I can do it,” I told him. “I can give you double, I just need time.”

He laughed in my face. “We all have needs, baby. What you got for us besides three measly fucking grand?”

I was a fool.

A fool to meet them here, on their own turf.

A fool to step into that alleyway and think I stood a chance of walking out of there unscathed.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’ve got nothing for you besides three grand. I’m not my sister, this isn’t my debt. I’m just the person who’s paying it.”

I tried to push away from the wall, but an elbow on my chest from guy two put paid to my efforts.

Weird lips got into my face, and his breath was rancid. “Oh, you’ve got plenty,” he said. “And there’s plenty of us to be taking it. We can make it easy on you, or you can go down hard. Which is it gonna be, baby girl?”

I let out a groan as his filthy fingers dug their way between my thighs.

The other guys came closer, and I was fucked. I knew I was fucked.

I wondered if she’d taken this, my sister.

I wondered how many times she’d serviced all four of these evil pricks in this seedy fucking back alley while her douche of a boyfriend ran off on her.

Weird Lips answered my unspoken question with a disgusting grin. “Your sister takes it easy. She spreads her fucking legs like a slut and takes dick until she bleeds.”

I couldn’t stop myself, not even in the face of my own sorry demise.

“Interesting how you think she still owes you fifty grand then,” I said. “You must owe her money for taking your sorry dick.”

I wasn’t ready for his friend to slam my head against the wall so hard my legs went from under me.

They held me there. Arms gripping tight as that filthy hand worked at tugging down my leggings.

“Oh, she fucking owes it, and so do you,” he grunted as my world span. “Time for you to pay her fucking instalment, baby. Open wide.”

I didn’t open anything. Not for them.

I didn’t give into anything. Not their words. Not their threats. Not even the fist that slammed into my stomach and took the wind right out of me.

“Bring her with you next time,” Weird Lips groaned as he fumbled with his jeans. “You can work the job between you. Sisterly fucking love.”

I retched at the stench. Retched at the sight of his dick in his hand.

And then I cursed the stupidity of my good intentions. Cursed the belief that three grand meant shit to scum like this.

Nothing would ever be enough for scum like this.

I didn’t want them to see me cry as they tore into my underwear, but I couldn’t hold back.

I closed my eyes against the world and accepted my fate, praying I’d make it out of there in one piece when they were finally done with me.

And then, just like that, in some kind of miracle, they paused.

Heads turned to the approaching footsteps from the shadows. It was one person. Just one.

My heart dropped.

“Hey!” Weird Lips yelled. “Get the fuck outta here, dickhead, or you’ll taste the fucking dirt.”