Dying Gasp Read Online Free

Marta asked.
    “Because I’m not dumb enough to walk in here without it,” Rosélia said. “You’re quite the little wildcat, aren’t you?”
    Marta didn’t reply.
    “You shouldn’t have talked to him like that,” Rosélia said. “You made him angry.”
    “Where’s Andrea?”
    Rosélia’s smile was more like a smirk.
    “She’s getting fucked. Third man today.”
    “I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t.”
    “She didn’t have any choice. Neither do you. You just don’t realize it yet. Andrea’s okay, because she isn’t stubborn like you are. She never threatened to bite and scratch the customers.”
    “I meant what I said.”
    Rosélia let out an exasperated sigh.
    “Look, querida ,” she said, “why don’t you just be reasonable? It’s not that bad. Every girl has to go through it, sooner or later.”
    Marta didn’t like the bitch calling her “querida.” That’s what Andrea always called her.
    “Not every girl,” she said. “I told you. Until I came here, there was no way I was going to let a man put his thing in me, not ever. You can force me, I know that, but I’m going to fight you every centimeter of the way.”
    “Sooner or later,” Rosélia said, “you’re going to get sick of bread and water. Sooner or later, you’re going to get sick of sitting here on your own with nobody to talk to, nothing to read, no TV to watch. You’ll change your mind. It’s just a matter of time.”
    “I’ll never change my mind.”
    “I’ll talk to you again in a week.”
    She put her hand into the pocket where the keys were and turned toward the door, but Marta suddenly didn’t want her to go.
    Rosélia was right, maybe not about her giving in, but certainly about how bad it was to be alone with no one to talk to. Somebody, anybody, was better than just staring at the wall, or into the mirror.
    “Why didn’t he rape me?” she said in a low voice, less aggressive this time.
    Rosélia turned around, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She must have thought Marta’s resistance was crumbling.
    “How do you know he didn’t?” she said. “You were unconscious, weren’t you?”
    “No. I wasn’t. I just pretended I was.”
    “Aren’t you the clever one?” Rosélia walked over and sat on the bed, making herself comfortable, as if she was a friend who’d just dropped by for a chat. “Why don’t you come over here and sit down next to me?”
    “I’ll stand. Why don’t you put down that club?”
    “I’ll hold on to it, thank you very much.”
    “Why didn’t he do it? Rape me, I mean.”
    “That would be like owning a candy store and eating your finest chocolate. The Goat is a businessman. He saves the best for his customers.”
    “But I’m not the best. I’m not anything.”
    “No, querida, of course you aren’t. You know that, and I know that, but the customers don’t. They think you’re something special because you’re a virgin.”
    “And The Goat—”
    “Knows better. The Goat has had plenty of virgins. Nowadays, he doesn’t even like virgins.”
    “But his customers do.”
    Rosélia nodded.
    “It’s the idea that appeals to them. That, more than the fuck. They all want to be the first, the one they think you’re going to remember. They’re willing to pay through the nose for the privilege. In this business, querida, you’ll never be more valuable than you are right now.”
    “How does he—”
    “Do it? He holds an auction. The bidders are mostly the kids with rich fathers. It’s a prestige thing for them, coming up with the money to be the first and bragging about it later, like they won a race or something. Stupid, I know, but that’s the way the little bastards think. And you can stop looking at me like that. I don’t make the rules. I’m just telling you the way it is.”
    “Who would even want me?” Marta said. “Who would want me when I look like this?”
    She pointed to the bruise on her cheek.
    “They don’t care about your face, querida. They