Fresh Meat

Angie woke suddenly, panicked and disorientated in the dark. For a moment, she had thought she was back home, sleeping in her narrow bed in the room she shared with her sisters. Perhaps Victoria, their affair, her kidnap and all that came after had all been a bizarre dream?

As she came around more fully, the pain in her backside reminded her that the events of the previous evening were very real, and so was the situation which had led to it. If her ordeal proved anything, it was that Victoria still thought of her as property.

Laying back and staring up at the roof of her ornate four-poster bed, Angie tried to remember all that had taken place in the playroom. Given what happened, it felt reasonable to assume that 'Fiona' was the one whom Keats had referred to, the Fiona Hickman who had corrupted Victoria after her husband's death.

She was a beast, Angie confirmed in her own mind. Fiona had beaten her to derive pleasure from her suffering. It was something Victoria had tried early on in her incarceration, but it failed to have the effect she wanted. Angie could vividly remember her blazing anger and frustration meted out into physical blows.

It suddenly dawned on Angie that Victoria had staked her out for Fiona; to show her off like a prize possession. She had even admitted deliberately grooming her for just such a purpose, something which Angie had suspected but had never confirmed. Victoria had let Fiona hurt her, even rape her, albeit an abortive attempt. Victoria had only stopped the violation because she thought her property would be damaged.

Angie thought about Fiona. Who was she? She sounded posh, obviously rich, probably richer than Victoria, although Angie's estimation of Victoria's wealth had little basis. Despite her compliments and her pretty words, Angie was sure that she was a monster, and her actions proved that.

Angie tried to remember every word which had issued from Fiona's poisoned tongue. She had talked about her 'pets', which Angie read to mean 'slaves'; was she rich enough to keep people prisoner like that? Victoria held her prisoner, so why not? Fiona had talked about disciplining those slaves, not just for infractions, but to maintain dominance. Now, when Angie thought about dominance and strict discipline at the hands of Victoria, it excited her instantly, but she suspected the same terms related to Fiona really translated to 'torture'.

The memories trickled through Angie's mind like the thin stream of water which became the raging torrent. As she had taken her, the monster had commented that Angie needed to be stretched. Dita had said the same, but the prospect of her doing it was quite different. Fiona had mentioned a school; perhaps somewhere in Eastern Europe? It sounded like they tortured and brainwashed people there, ready to serve as cowed, unquestioning slaves.

Angie tried to imagine the horror of such a place. What might they do to her if Victoria took Fiona's advice and sent her away to be 'conditioned'? She imagined she would fight, but in the end they would win. She had always been a peacemaker, not a fighter, but imagined that submitting would be the end to her free will, personality, ambitions; she would return a robot created for Victoria's pleasure. Wasn't that what she had wanted in the first place?

Tears pricked at the corners of Angie's eyes as she considered the prospect of Victoria listening to Fiona's recommendations as she had in the past. Angie would become even less of a person than she was now, and then what? She thought of The Pig, the one of Victoria's previous pets that Fiona hadn't helped her get rid of. What had she meant by that? Sold on, put down?

Angie imagined herself in the stocks in The Pig's stable, unable to move to protect herself as Janik calmly approached, a large knife in hand. In her mind's eye, she watched him casually cut her throat and saw her lifeblood run out, painting the straw bright red. She would choke as her life quickly ebbed away. Then she watched from afar as the big Pole cut her body into pieces for disposal, leaving the stable ready for the next unfortunate to drop into Victoria's clutches.

Unbridled tears fell as Angie was unable to shake the harrowing vision of her future. Even worse, the alternative might mean being sold to Fiona as a slave. The horror of that possibility could not even be contemplated.

Feelings of desperation and despair welled up within Angie. She had to get out, but if she simply ran, Janik would easily track her using the device implanted inside her, and then what would happen? Would he be given free rein to rape her as punishment? She had waited and watched and planned to work on Victoria on an emotional level for months, but if her captor chose to follow Fiona's ways, there was nothing in Angie's future but pain and suffering. Death was preferable to that.

Angie curled up into a ball, crying uncontrollably, her mind unable to shift from nightmare visions of her future.

---

Victoria half listened as Janik's detailed arrangements for an upcoming business deal were described in his deep, rumbling voice while they walked together through the house. Outside, she appeared calm and businesslike; inside, Victoria felt all over the place. The previous evening, she had subjected Angie to Fiona's cruel whims and then burned her bridges with her influential long-term business associate. She had no idea what the fallout would be from that, but it came on top of Angie poking around and opening old wounds.

What was worse, Victoria knew that the girl hadn't deserved any of the trauma she had subjected her to; she realised that now. There wasn't an ounce of malice in her. All this time, even in captivity, Angie had tried to be caring and sympathetic, but Victoria had mistrusted her, channelled her darker impulses, and let her anger take over when she felt threatened or unsettled.

The worst part was Victoria was tired of it all. Fiona's visit raised an unexpected mirror to her own behaviour. Before she had met Angie, she wouldn't have thought twice about letting Fiona rut one of her pets to bloody ruin as she might have partaken herself of the gimp which accompanied the Englishwoman the previous night.

But now things had changed. She couldn't do that any more. Angie had presented her own reflection on Victoria's actions. She had shown her how wrong it was to keep her and The Pig in captivity, how she could be dominant and enjoy herself without being cruel or callous. But she was responsible for her previous misdeeds.

Fiona's influence was no excuse; Victoria had taken human captives and seen them abused, murdered even. And The Pig, living proof of her cruelty. She wished she had gotten rid of that troublesome reporter years ago. She had kept her captive at Fiona's suggestion but then hadn't taken the final step to dispose of her when it became apparent she couldn't live to expose the Irishwoman's secrets.

Victoria felt turmoil within her. She would have to give some consolation to Angie for her treatment at Fiona's hands. Should she be set free? Instinct said yes, but her fear said no. She was scared of being incriminated for her crimes, just as she had when the journalist Meredith Callaghan had threatened to expose her and she had rashly imprisoned her, ultimately dooming her to become The Pig.

Worse than that, though, she feared losing Angie. If she set the girl truly free, she would run back to her family in England and never set foot in Victoria's presence again. She might incriminate her or not, but that wasn't really what Victoria was scared of.

As they entered the lounge, Victoria was jolted from her inner anguish at Janik abruptly drawing to a stop and falling silent. Angie stood in the centre of the room wearing the riding gear which Victoria had bought her to accentuate every curve of her toned young body. One look at the girl revealed that she wasn't there to play. Her face was ashen, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. She wore an expression of desolate determination, her eyes fixed on them as if she had been waiting there for them to arrive.

Angie's body seemed tense, a coiled spring. She held something shiny in her hand. Victoria's heart skipped a beat when she realised it was one of Cook's kitchen knives. Victoria had invested in a new set for her a while back, razor-sharp Japanese steel, each formed from a single piece of metal with no adornments for the handle. Being the professional that she was, Cook kept their edges keen and no doubt Angie could do plenty of damage if she began waving the implement about without thinking.

Victoria wasn't scared for herself. There was almost a lightness in her. If Angie should stab her, perhaps that would put a quick end to her, the one she deserved. She felt a soul-deep tiredness, but she still didn't want to see the girl harmed, even by her own actions.

"Drop the knife, Angelica, before you do something foolish."

The girl didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't let go of the blade. Her mind appeared made up, and no trite words were going to dissuade her.

"Retrieve the knife, please, Mr Janik." Victoria kept her voice low, calm, business-like.

Janik took a step forward, exuding threat in his own casual manner. The girl raised the knife towards the giant, but not far, then she spoke. Her voice was cold. It took Victoria a moment to realise that she wasn't speaking English but fluent Polish, catching her off guard completely. She uttered two short sentences directed at Janik. He stopped.

Victoria had never seen the big man scared or uncertain, but something about him suggested he was rattled. It was as if he had assessed the risk of being able to subdue Angie and take the knife, and the risk to himself was more than the job was worth. He stepped back. "I can't," he rumbled as if the request was impossible.

There was no point arguing, Victoria realised; Janik's attitude appeared intractable. "Leave us," she ordered without rancour, as if the possibility of being overheard was her only worry. Unhurried, Janik left the room, and Victoria realised that Angie's gaze followed his every step until he was out of sight.

Victoria looked at the girl, so unlike her usual self. "Are you going to hurt me with that?" She gestured to the knife.

Angie's gaze snapped back to Victoria, momentarily confused. She looked briefly down at the blade held in her white knuckle grasp and then back at the older women, surprise on her face. "No. I couldn't harm you," she admitted, a little of the intensity gone from her stare.

Confused but cautious, Victoria stepped forward. Immediately, Angie whipped the knife up, holding it to her own throat. The older woman stopped, conscious that her advance was escalating the situation in a dangerous way. "Is this about last night?" She asked, keeping her voice calm.

"No." Angie looked uncertain. "Yes. A bit."

"Then what is this about Angelica?" Victoria tried to keep her voice level. She was acutely conscious that the knife was razor sharp and the girl had been pushed to emotional extremes in the past few months. She didn't want to lose her through a misplaced word or deed, and suddenly, that had nothing to do with damaging 'property'.

Angie's gaze drifted a little as she seemed to take a moment to arrange her thoughts, but finally, she stared back at the older woman, resolute. "I still want more," she admitted as if that explained everything.

Victoria was smart enough to recognise the proposition which had started their entire relationship, but she still needed to understand. She held her position and her tongue, giving the girl the mental and physical space she needed to explain herself.

"I can't have more as your pet or your slave or whatever I am here." There was another pause as more fragments of the girl's soul floated to the surface to be born on her words. "I don't want to stay here if you're going to send me to some school to be brainwashed or sell me off like a piece of meat. I don't want to end up a naked savage sharing a pen with The Pig. I don't want to share a house with that rapist." She nodded with disgust toward the direction by which Janik had exited.

"I do want to see my family again," Victoria could feel the girl's anguish at those words, "but not if it will get you arrested." The revelation was so sudden Victoria had to hide her surprise. What was she saying?

"You're my lioness," the girl declared, knife held steady at her throat, "but I don't know whether I'm part of your pride or just fresh meat from the kill. I don't know if all I am is prey to you." Her gaze took on a look of raw anguish that pinned the older woman where she stood. "I'd rather not feel what it's like to be eaten alive. I'd rather die here and now than suffer brainwashing or slavery or worse." The knife dug in a little deeper, causing an indentation in the girl's pale flesh.

Victoria could feel her heart pounding. She could understand Fiona's talk of the school in Belarus and how she treated her pets had rattled Angie, but there was more to it than that. The Pig was an ominous indication of her possible fate, and Victoria's mixed treatment of her hadn't helped. The poor girl was confused and had finally reached her breaking point. She needed to tread extremely carefully.

"What do you want?" Victoria asked, trying not to show the fear she felt.

"I want you to set me free," Angie began, her voice beseeching. A Victoria felt a lump in her throat at the prospect, but the girl continued. "I need you to release me so that I can choose to stay of my own free will."

Victoria blinked and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was in shock.

"I want to share my life with you, with Victoria the person, not Victoria the monster, who listens to the likes of Fiona." Victoria looked into the girl's eyes, and they were begging her.

"Monster?" The older woman asked, wondering if that's all she really was at heart.

"Yes! You can either stay in darkness with Fiona, a shadow you've been under since Cian died, or you can be the woman who had me at the first kiss." The girl's voice was impassioned; the knife wavered at her neck.

Victoria stared at the girl, incredulous. How could she deserve such a creature? She shook her head. "I'm not sure I know how to be that person."

"You do. Let Mary go. Have Mr Janik put The Pig out of her misery as humanely as possible, then get rid of him. Pay him off, I don't care. He's a rapist, and at some point, he'll turn on you."

"You don't want to leave? Go home? See your family?" Victoria could no longer keep the disbelief from her voice.

"I love my family, and I miss them so much, but if the choice is between seeing them again and getting you arrested or staying here with you in happiness and never being able to see them again, I hope they'd understand." Angie's face showed the open honesty she always displayed when she was trying to negotiate with Victoria; sometimes, her lack of guile was unsettling.

"Why would you want to stay here? Why are you so desperate to protect me?" Victoria's curiosity was genuine, surely she had proved that she could take care of herself.

"Can't you see?" The girl's voice had a raw edge to it, "because I love you, or I would if you'd let me. Property can't love." She lowered the knife and appeared to be searching Victoria's face for signs that her feelings were reciprocated.

"When you bought me here, I lost everything. My friends, my family, anything I owned, my future, but I had you, or thought I did. The clothes I wear, the bed I sleep in, they're all yours. I came to realise it was all just stuff, you know, property. All I want is you. To be with you. To go where you go. I can do without everything else if I can just have you." Angie's eyes had misted up. She appeared to be at the end of her tether.

Victoria saw the tears and heard the words, as if observing from another world. She stepped towards the distraught girl, gently pushing the knife aside. Angie didn't resist and allowed her shaking body to be drawn in.

"Forgive me," Victoria breathed in her ear.

The knife clattered to the floor, stark and unfeeling against the echoing sound of Angie wracking sobs.