Page 66 of House of Cards

Days.

I set my can down so hard, soda foams out the top. I peel my robe away from my body, giving myself a hasty scan.

“What did they do to me, huh?” I mutter.

Anita watches me with round eyes.

“How many of themfuckedme while I was out?” I spin around like a dog trying to catch its own tail. If I’d bothered to look at the marks on my ass, I’d have known something was up. They’ve faded to pale yellow bruises, barely a bump of skin remaining on the worst welt. And since I’ve gotten up and started moving around, they’ve barely been hurting at all.

“No one.”

“You’re lying!” I run my hands over my skin, trying to feel for some kind of residue. Sweat, cum, I don’t fucking know. But they probably scrubbed me clean.

“Shut. The.Fuck. Up!” Door Number Two yells.

Anita grabs my wrist, trapping my hands between hers. “No one else was here!” she whispers furtively. “Only Smith. You have to believe me!”

“Oh, I believe you,” I mutter sourly. “That sick fuckloveshaving me all to himself.” My vision blurs, but it’s only when I yank out of Anita’s grip, shaking loose a tear, that I realize I’m crying. “How many times did he fuck me, Anita, huh? Once a day? Twice? Fuckingsickfuck.”

“No,” she groans. “It wasn’t like that. He?—“

“Liar!” I rip my hand free as she bends closer, and my hand slams into her jaw. She spins away, falling against the fridge, going down with a soft yell.

“Jesus!” I spring forward to help her up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—“

Down the hall, a door crashes open. “Holy mother of God, if you two don’t shut the hell up, I’m gonna bash both your skulls in!” a woman roars.

Anita claps a hand over her mouth, staring at me with round, frightened eyes. “She’ll do it,” she whispers. “She will.”

My chest suddenly feels two sizes too small. Someone as sweet as Anita shouldn’t be stuck in a place like this.

But maybe she didn’t have a choice either.

Just like me.

Anita was right. The Rainbow Cookie shake is tasty as hell. I’m on my third one.

“So this is why you’re all so skinny?” I ask, rattling the last bit of shake around in the plastic bottle before bending my head back to drain it.

“They give us real food,” Anita says, sounding defensive until she reluctantly adds, “Sometimes.”

“Would you say more or less often than Smith came to check on me while I was drugged up?”

“The door was open the whole time. He’d just come in and look at you. I’d have known if he tried anything.” Anita frowns when my face remains impassive. “I’m not lying.”

“Never said that. But it’s been almost two hours since I’ve woken up, and…” I lift my hands up, scanning the room for Smith.

“Maybe he’s busy.” Anita scrunches up her face as she turns back to the movie, munching on a handful of popcorn. “Don’t know why you’re complaining. You should be glad they’re leaving you alone.”

“You finally gonna stop trying to convince me this is a fairytale?” I mutter sourly.

“Compared to what I went through, you might as well be a princess,” she mutters right back.

The three protein shakes in my stomach congeal into concrete. I sit up, wrapping myself a little tighter in my silk robe, identical to the one Anita’s wearing.

I’d been so wrapped up in my shit show, I’d totally forgotten that Anita’s been through all of this. And for much longer than me.

“How long have you been here?” I’m whispering, not because of the woman down the hall, but because I’m almost too scared of what Anita will say.