How could I possibly have sex with another man? A stranger who values women as property?
A wail bursts out of me unbidden and I know what will happen before the door slams open, my father's face a mask of fury.
"Odette, you are making a spectacle of yourself! Pull yourself together!"
I can't. I can't stop the tears anymore than I can stop this plane.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me from the bed, throwing me to the ground and backhanding me again. "I do not want to hand over damaged goods to Signor Mecedo but if I have to beat the obedience back into you then I will."
I look up at him through my fingers and but I'm hollow, no fear left in me to have at his words. I even consider fighting back for the first time in my life, the anger at this man, a living thing inside me that has consumed everything else, but the sobbing that just will not stop means I can barely lift my hands away from my face. I'm frozen, stuck in this position and this stupid airplane.
He only hits me twice more, this time with a closed fist and to the side of my head where my hair will cover the damage but my brain feels as though I've just stepped off of a merry-go-round, everything spinning and bright.
"You. Will. Obey."
No. The second he says those words to me I know that I really won't obey him. I'll lose myself in my emotions right now and I will bide my time but I will not go along with all of this plan of his. I will find a way out of this terrible mess he's thrown me into.
I clamp my mouth shut around my sobs, clenching my teeth so hard I think they might break, to stifle the noise enough that he will leave me where I'm curled into a ball on the lush carpet. I listen to the sound of his breath heaving until he finally grunts and walks away, the door snicking shut behind him. He couldn't possibly slam it, not with the pilot and stewardesses on board and listening to our every move.
I wonder what they think of the sounds of him hitting me?
I collapse back onto the bed, my head pounding and the tears still streaming from my eyes. I feel bile creeping up the back of my throat as stars dance in front of my eyes. No, it doesn't matter how low I feel. I'm going to make it through this and then I'm going to fight my way out of it too, I just don't know how yet.
Finally after hours and hours have passed with my stomach rebelling and the white of the ceiling burning holes in my eyes one of the attendants comes in to tell me that the plane is about to start its descent. I freshen up in the small bathroom, running my fingers through my hair and washing my face, thankful I hadn't worn any makeup so there's nothing running down my face. Then, deep breath, I take my seat out in the main cabin next to my father, facing my traitorous boyfriend. God, I guess he's now my ex-boyfriend.
I stare at a point above Louis's shoulder, where the stewardesses are sitting, a placid look firmly fixed on my face. I need to get off of this damned airplane without being beaten again.
Then I can plan how to get the hell out of this situation.
"Are you over your little temper tantrum?" my father murmurs, and I keep my stare on the stewardesses instead of him as I nod. I will choke on any words of platitude I try to give him right now so silence is my greatest asset.
"You must realize it's safer for you to be out of France, Odette. I have far too many enemies back home, America will be a better place for you to be."
America.
He's sold me off to an American drug lord. I will be stranded in an entirely alien country, with a language I barely have a grasp on, married to someone whose method of making money I despise.
My vision blurs again as I blink back more tears. They are as useless to me now as they've ever been.
"You will be a very rich woman, your husband has amassed a great wealth in his business." Louis says, and my father laughs.
"She will never see the money, she will live like a prized treasure in his palace. She will never work or leave the building, her every need will be catered for. Honestly, I've given you a gift many women would kill for and all you can do is cry over it? Pathetic."
Louis pulls out his phone and taps away at it. I've never been allowed a phone of my own, never been allowed friends outside of my father's specially curated inner circle. Again, I desperately wish I could sit here and spill Louis's betrayal to my father. To tell him all about the secret meetings we've had over the last few months, how he taught me to pleasure a man, and all of the dirty things he's done to me, but I'm now certain my father would kill me for it.
Whatever he owes this Signor Mecedo, it's a lot and my virginity will be the only thing to cover the tab.
So I keep my mouth sealed shut as the airplane makes its descent and my fate comes rushing towards me.
My father's palm sweats where he's gripping my arm.
Signor Mecedo is much older than me, his jet black hair slicked back like a cap and a fat cigar dangling from his lips as if we aren't standing on a tarmac in the middle of nowhere, the engine of the private jet still blistering hot at our backs as we stand here it what must be the desert… which desert, I have no idea. There isn't a building or customs for us to pass through, and I have no doubt the flight we've just taken was illegal. I'm tense as I wait for hordes of border control to burst out of the bushes like they do in the movies but there's nothing as far as the eye can see, except the large SUV's my new husband and his men arrived in and the airplane itself.
I can't understand the conversation happening in Spanish around me, only that Signor Mecedo doesn't look happy. I suppose I'm not to his liking, most men these days want rail-thin women and I have more curves than your average model. My figure is a perfect hourglass, perfect for a man who wants an ass to grip and breasts to feel heavy in his palms.
My father wrenches me around so I'm standing in front of my new husband, staring up into his black, void-like eyes. I fight to stop my lip curling in disgust. He is easily old enough to be my father, maybe even my father's father, and his eyes stay glued on the soft flesh of my breasts peeking out of my blouse.
“Bastará." he murmurs, and my father's hand drops away from my wrist finally.
God, I hope he speaks some English.
I hear the sounds of gravel crunching under feet behind me and I glance over my shoulder to see my father and Louis both walking away from me, without a single word of goodbye. I have no tears left in me, no emotion left in my hollow shell of a body.
Just pure outrage and fury at them both.
I don't let my gaze falter away from the man who has bought me, the man still standing in front of me eyeing me up like I'm a piece of meat and the men behind him openly leering as well.
The second man grabs me, his hands rough around the tops of my arms as he shoves me into the back of the large SUV. I stumble over my feet and fall onto my back against the hot leather of the seats, baking away in the hot summer sun. I've never felt such searing sunlight before, the heat is nothing like the summer's back in France. I move to sit up and right myself when the car door on the other side opens and hand clamp around my arms again, holding me down. I gasp and try to squirm away but the man who just shoved me into the car grabs my thighs and holds me still.
The plane hasn’t even taken off yet.
I take in a deep, gulping breath, ready to scream and fight them off, when a large hand covers my mouth. It stinks of tobacco and sweat and his fingers bite into my skin as he squeezes my jaw like he’s trying to break it. I choke on my scream as I try to move away from him but the pain only gets worse until I stop fighting.