2
A CAGE WITHOUT BARS
She stood slowly, wiping her hands on her jeans and smoothing her shirt like that would save her.
“I’m here,” she said quietly.
Theo stormed in, eyes bloodshot and wild, beer bottle in one hand, belt in the other.
“You think I wouldn’t notice?” he spat. “Where’s my damn dinner?!”
“It’s on the stove. I.. ”
He didn’t wait.
The belt flew before the sentence could leave her mouth.
A sharp crack, and then pain. Fire along her back. She didn’t scream. She couldn’t afford to scream not with her mother in the other room.
“I come home after a hellish day and I have to serve myself?” Theo growled, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her toward the stove. “You lazy, ungrateful mutt.”
“It’s hot, I didn’t want you to burn your.. ”
Another slap. Her head jerked sideways. The taste returned.
Her mother coughed weakly behind the curtain.
“Stop it!” the old woman wheezed. “Theo, stop it.. !”
“Shut up, Margaret!” he barked. “You are just a lump of bones waiting to rot. Mind your damn business.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Nadine whispered, her voice trembling.
Wrong words.
Theo spun back, eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
“I said don’t.. ”
His fist met her ribs this time.
She crumpled.
Silence stretched, broken only by the ragged sound of her breathing and her mother’s sobbing coughs.
Theo stepped back, towering over her. “You’re nothing without me, you hear? Nothing.”
Nadine didn’t reply. Her cheek pressed to the cold floor. It was the only place she could breathe.
Theo turned to the stove, muttering, “I should have left you both in the gutter. Filthy bitches.”
He banged a pot onto a plate, spilled half of it, and didn’t care.
Nadine forced herself up, crawling toward the curtain. Her mother was trying to sit up, shaking, her frail hands trembling in panic.
“Mama, don’t,” Nadine murmured, crawling into the room and reaching for her. “You will fall.”
“You have to leave,” her mother whispered urgently. “He’s going to kill you one day. Or worse. You have to run.”
“And go where?” Nadine asked, her voice cracking. “We have nowhere. No one.”
Her mother grabbed her hand, strength returning to her voice in a sharp, broken whisper. “You do have someone. I didn’t want to tell you… not yet. But if it gets worse…”
“It is worse,” Nadine choked out.
“He came back into town,” her mother whispered. “He asked about you.”
Nadine blinked. “Who?”
But her mother’s lips were trembling, like the name wouldn’t come. Her eyes closed again, from exhaustion or fear, Nadine didn’t know.
Theo laughed loudly from the other room. Glass shattered. Beer or plate, it didn’t matter.
Nadine swallowed her scream.
She lay beside her mother on the cramped cot, whispering softly, “I’m okay. I will keep us safe. I promise.”
But even she didn’t believe her own words.
Because her heart was beating faster than usual. A strange pull. That whisper again in her bones, the one from yesterday.
Something’s coming.
The morning light was cruel.
It filtered through the thin curtain lighting up the bruises on Nadine’s skin. Her ribs throbbed. Her back felt like it had been scraped open. Her cheek was swollen, and her lip had split during the night.
She tried to move.
Pain.
Still, she moved.
Because pain didn’t matter when there were chores waiting. When her mother needed her. When Theo could walk in any minute and see the house dirty.
Nadine got up slowly, her limbs screaming with every motion. She washed the dishes, swept the floor, made Theo’s favorite soup again, he might come back angry. He always came back angry.
Then she checked on her mother.
“Mama,” she whispered.
Her mother stirred, barely.
“You need to eat something. I will leave a little here.”
She helped her drink a spoonful of broth. Her mother’s eyes fluttered open but closed again, too weak to speak.
By the time Nadine dressed and rushed out the door, it was past four.
She was already late.
The motel’s lobby reeked of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke. Her manager, a thick-necked man with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, was standing near the desk, tapping his foot.
As soon as he saw her, he exploded.
“You think this place runs on Omega time, Nadine?” he barked. “You think you can stroll in when you like?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I had to.. ”
“Shut it,” he snapped. “I’m docking your pay. Maybe that will teach you.”
She grabbed his arm, desperate. “Please, I need that money. My mother’s sick. I.. ”
He yanked his arm away like she’d bitten him.
“Touch me again and you will lose more than your damn salary.”
Nadine swallowed the tears. She lowered her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
He shoved a tray into her hands. “Table 9. And wipe that pathetic look off your face. It disgusts the customers.”
Table 9 was a group of four men in suits, their ties loosened, their faces smug. She kept her head down, balancing the drinks. She didn’t look at them. Didn’t speak.
But as she turned to leave, a hand smacked her behind.
Hard.
She froze.
Laughter erupted behind her.
She turned slowly, her heart hammering.
One of the men grinned. “Relax, sweetheart. That’s what you’re here for.”
And something inside her snapped.
Slap.
Her hand connected with his face before she could stop it. His head turned with the force.
Silence.
Then fury.
“You bitch,” he growled, rising to his feet.
He signaled the manager with a single motion.
The man stormed over like a beast unleashed. “What the hell is going on?”
“She hit me,” the customer snarled. “I was having fun, and she slapped me like some Alpha!”
The manager didn’t even look at Nadine. His hand flew.
Crack.
Her face burned.
“You dare raise your hand at a paying customer?” he yelled.
She held her cheek, stunned. “He touched me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
The manager sneered. “You’re an Omega. You don’t get to decide what’s wrong. You’re here to serve. All of them.”
Then he did the unthinkable.
He took the man’s hand. Forced it against her.
Pressed her down.
The man grinned wide and squeezed again. “Yeah… soft.”
Nadine choked on her sob. “Please… don’t…”
But no one listened.
The other men laughed.
And they took turns.
Touching. Pressing. Groping.
Each hand another scar. Each laugh another crack in her soul.
The manager lit a cigarette, watching like it was entertainment. “You’re lucky they didn’t ask for more. Now go clean the damn rooms. And if you even think of complaining, I will make sure you never work anywhere again. Bloody mutt.”
Nadine turned, broken.
She didn’t even wipe her tears.
She just walked.
Because in this world, in her world pain was the only constant.
And help was just a fantasy.
