Beggar

Chapter 19: "I know you wont."

"That accent," the wall spoke, or perhaps, the man ordered to watch me behind it. "You are German?"

"Russian." I cracked a grin, sprawling my fingers over the palm. He made a sound of awe, as if in understanding.

"And you're the murderess they've been looking for?" The man, Hector, Sayter called him, poked me for answers. It was his best attempt to make conversation, both stuck in this cellar on different circumstances till the Crime Lord decided to stop being an ass and come back and fuck me.

"Did you expect a man?"

Hectors laugh was ugly, but in this time broken darkness it bucked a light in my chest. I smiled to myself.
"Gods, no. Even among the most vicious of men the only one I can think of to humiliate and dehumanize someone in the manner you have is, well, the Crime Lord. If this is a mans world it's because women let us have it until they exceed something better. Women are vicious, brutal things, they are."

I looked down at my knees where dirt accumulated, and smirked again. Hector, I liked him, he knew how to talk like words weren't just coming out of his ass, he made talking easy.

He should be talking to anyone but me.

"When I get out of here, Hector, I promise to make your death an easy one." I cooed, and his throat quirked a fatty cough.
"I appreciate that, I think. Best of luck at getting out."

I said nothing, and after a while, Hector said,
"How do you plan on getting out."

"When the Crime Lord and I push into our thirties, we'll be bound to tolerate each other then." I remarked.

Hector snorted and added, "What if I, or we, left together. I'd help you escape, I mean. No lady should be locked in a cage, and this job doesn't exactly boast well with my wife."

I threw my head back and laughed, loud enough it echoed through the cellar. Hector, then, was one of Sayters attempts at proving my misbehavior. Send an easy going man, make friends with the girl and get her to talk.
Smart, but he forgets we are one of the same, thinking and calculating the same, and I suppose the best I could do for myself is play with it, "Women like me who usually do the locking in cages are far from lady, Hector. Along that, I find I rather like the Crime Lord. So for now, I'll be here."

"He told me you would say that." Hector admitted, and I heard a scratching of fingernails against skin.

I hummed, tracing a finger over my leg, over cracked bone beneath bandaged skin. It has been a while since Sayter had broken my legs with his hands, I could limp at the very best.
"And if I responded with anything else?"

"He would break someone else on you."

My laughing eased and died, "I don't doubt it."

Ф

When Sayter had gotten back and flogged me for the day again, he forced me to a chair to sit, and Gods did it hurt like hell on my ass. He left to go grab something, leaving me to pout and think of Hector. The man wasn't mean but he was very musty, so even if I did convince him to help me escape, I'd be stuck with him for a bit until I decided to kill him.

Sayter came back with some folded clothes and took me by my hand to stand,
"The hell is that."

"Clothing," he answered without looking at me, just held up a pretty little lace dress to my waist for measurement. "I'm taking you out."