Bitter Angel by Megan Hand

listening for anything that would tell me they were okay and alive.
    I could hear music, loud and vulgar. Voices, all male. Laughter. Bottles clinking. I could smell the crusty scent of cigarette smoke.
    He pointed to the closed door. “They’re out there, being taken care of. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. It’s you that I’m not so sure about.”
    “You sick son of a bitch. My friend could be on the brink of death, and you’re just gonna do nothing? If she dies on your hands, I swear—”
    “Relax,” he cut me off. “She’s still breathing. Enough. We’ll drop her somewhere when everyone’s done. She’ll be fine.”
    As I had kicked H’s seat earlier, I just as frantically pulled on my arms. “Let me out!” I screamed, hoping beyond hope that someone, inside or out, upstairs or down, could hear me in this hellhole. I had no idea if we were in a house or apartment building, if this was the only bedroom, or if there were others. From the looks of it and guessing the age of these guys, my bet was that this was their place of business where they brought all the girls just for this purpose. I highly doubted that they lived here, but I had nothing to back up my theory.
    Alpha rounded the bed. It creaked as he sat on the clean side. He caressed my jaw, my bloody lip. I cringed, ripping away from him, and he gripped me harder. From his pocket, he retrieved a knife. The blade winked at me in the dim light. I swallowed. He grinned.
    “Still wanna scream?” He waved the knife at me like it was my choice.
    I clamped my mouth shut, my breath quickening, eyes narrowing. I was way too close to tears. Jay. How did I let this happen? I should’ve stayed home. I should’ve…but no, I couldn’t have stayed back. Then Heather…
    The idea of what could happen and what was probably happening right now to my friends flooded my imagination faster than blood was pumping to my brain. I felt lightheaded.
    I watched the knife inch up to where my wrists were bound, and then I heard a snapping sound. My head—I realized I’d been holding it up this whole time—collapsed against the flat pillow. My arms fell loosely to my sides. Angry red marks wrapped around my wrists, and I rolled into a ball, holding them close to me as I tried to rub some feeling back into them.
    I heard Alpha’s voice float from behind me. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice. Now let’s take a bath because I’m not gonna fuck a puker, and then we can have some fun.”
    I couldn’t believe how cavalier he sounded.
    I scrambled from the bed before he could touch me, but a pain ripped through my head and I swayed, almost colliding with the wall. Dizzy, so dizzy . Whatever Trigger had given me must not have completely worn off yet.
    I went limp, and Alpha carried me into the bathroom. He set me in the tub, still wearing my bra and underwear, and he turned on the faucet. The water was freezing cold.
    “Shit!” I squeezed myself to the back of the tub-shower combo, knees to my chin, toes curling against the frigid water. My teeth were chattering. It was my own personal response to the mixture of chill and pain.
    Forcing myself to focus, I tried to gather clues in the bathroom. There was a window above the nasty toilet. It was about the size of my head. The idea of fitting my hips through there was laughable.
    The state of the bathroom was worse than the bedroom. What used to be caulking in the tile around and behind me was now only mold. The retro flowery shower curtain was decayed and torn, barely hanging onto the shower rod. The mirror above the sink looked like it’d been hit with a baseball bat. The pedestal sink seemed decently clean from this short distance, but the only personal effects stacked beside the faucet were three large boxes of condoms. I started to gag.
    Alpha splashed a handful of water in my face. His eyes lit up. “We could have some fun in here if you want.”
    If I want? Is he serious! “Go fuck