Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy 1)

“I must witness,” he says. “You’re not the first woman I’ve seen naked, I assure you.”

Is he bragging? I dig my nails into the sides of the table as the doctor prods, turning his finger this way and that.

“She’s very tight.”

I feel a tear slide down the side of my face.

“Almost done,” he says. “Just a moment longer.”

I’m pretty sure he’s felt my hymen, if that’s even a thing, and this is simply for my humiliation and a visual aid for when they jerk off later.

“There.” The doctor pulls his finger away and wipes it off on a paper towel.

I let my knees drop closed and exhale.

My brother is on his feet, anxious.

“Virgin,” Dr. Chambers says.

I could have told them that.

“Well, not that I had any doubt,” Abel says.

I start to get up.

“Not yet,” Holton says, holding me down, pulling my robe wide to expose my breasts again when I try to close it.

I look at him, and his eyes are nowhere near my face.

“She is spectacular,” he says. “Too bad she’ll go to that bastard.”

“Can I go?” I ask, my voice sounding strange.

“Just one more thing,” Dr. Chambers says. He looks at my brother who simply nods. He picks up the needle lying beside the open tube of lubricant.

“What is that?”

“Vitamins,” my brother answers before the doctor can.

I don’t even argue as the needle comes to my arm. I want to get off this table. Out of here. I want to get away from these men, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep from crying.

“There.” Dr. Chambers closes my robe. “You’re finished. I’ll certify the document, and your brother can take you home.”

I slip off the table as fast as I can, the floor chilly on my bare feet, but before I can get behind the privacy screen, Able catches my arm and stops me.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks.

“What?” I ask, just barely holding back my tears.

“Thank the doctor and Mr. Holton.”

“Thank them?” I wipe at my face, the first of the tears spilling, and I swear I can still feel that man’s touch on me, the other’s eyes.

“Yes, Ivy. Thank them for taking time out of their day for us.”

I turn around, and I look at them. I make myself do it. I want to remember their faces. I want to know who they are, and one day, I swear to myself, I will make them pay.

“Thank you,” I say through gritted teeth.

Abel releases me, and I disappear behind the privacy curtain and wonder if my husband-to-be has demanded this humiliation of me without even being present, what will he demand of me when I am his?

7

Ivy

Neither Abel nor I speak as he pulls off the driveway. I feel humiliated. Mortified. What just happened in that house is only now fully dawning on me, and all I can do is sit here in the passenger seat with my knees drawn up under my chin and my face turned out the window so he won’t see my tears.

“Take your boots off the seat.”

“Fuck you.”

He drops it. I’m surprised when he doesn’t retort or reach over and make me take my boots off his precious seat, but he doesn’t. Maybe on some level, he’s been impacted too?

I wipe my face with the sleeve of my oversized sweater, glad I wore it, glad to have the protection of it. It’s when we’re pulling into the parking lot of the hospital that I turn to study his face in profile, mouth tight, forehead creased.

His hate has aged him. Made him ugly.

“Why did you make me do that?”

“It was his request.”

“You could have said no.”

He pulls into the circular drive and stops before the sliding glass front doors, then turns to face me.

“It needed to happen. If you weren’t a virgin, or even if De La Rosa claimed you weren’t after the wedding night, we’d have no recourse. The entire family would be punished.”

“Do you have any human emotion in there, Abel? Anything at all resembling empathy?”

“Empathy is for the weak, Ivy.” He checks his watch like I’m holding him up. “If you want to see Dad, you’d better head in.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re not coming to guard me? Make sure I don’t run away?”

Shaking his head, he shifts his gaze to the street, absently watching traffic.

“What is it? Are you upset by what you did?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, looking at me again. Eyes dead again.

“No, you’re right. That was stupid. I’m going to warn you now, though, if you ever raise a hand to our sister or try anything like that with her, I will kill you. I will murder you with my own hands. Do you understand me, Abel?”

He laughs. Well, sort of. It’s more of a snort. “Once Dad dies, I’ll take over guardianship of her. And do you know what I will do with her? I’ll sell her to the highest bidder.”