Chapter 18

Amber couldn't get Damien's words out of her mind. To be fair, it was a refreshing change of pace to constantly thinking about Greg.

She knew her younger brothers were adopted as she had been there during the adoption process. Could she be adopted also?

The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She had thought about it in the past, but pushed it aside and made peace with it, assuring herself it didn’t matter either way.

As she pottered about the kitchen, searching for snacks, her mother arrived to replenish the stocks. She dropped two carrier bags and sighed, rubbing the handle marks on her hands.

Packets of her brother’s favorite crisps slipped onto the tiles. As she bent to pick them up, Amber saw her mother bad also bought marshmallows and squirty cream for her hot chocolates.

"Mum," she blurted. "Am I adopted?"

Silence rang as her mother paused in her efforts to shove the shopping into drawers.

"Oh, Sweetie," she said at last. "I've been waiting for the right time to tell you."

"I'm eighteen," Amber said. "How long were you going to wait?"

Her Mum squeezed the cellophane-wrapped bread in her hands, frozen for a moment before placing it by the toaster and ushering Amber into the living room.

The pair sat on the sofa, knees facing each other, as her mother explained that she was infertile and decided to adopt instead of taking the IVF route because she wanted to give a child the gift of a loving home. Amber had been five years old, almost six, when she had been placed into the care of the people she now knew as Mum and Dad.

"What do you know about my real parents?" Amber asked.

"Nothing," her Mum said.

Amber shook her head, not accepting this. Damien had seemed to know something about them, so how could her mother possibly be in the dark.

"You must know something—" Amber argued.

"That isn't how it works," her mother interrupted her. "Those details aren't given to the new families."

"Then how come Damien knows something?" Amber asked.

Her mother shook her head, genuinely confused. "Who's Damien?"

"A kid at my school. He's kind of a freak but he's clever and his parents are rich," Amber said, trying to explain Damien in a way that her Mum would understand.

"I have no idea, Sweetheart," Mum said. "Maybe he is messing with you. Some cruel joke. Kids these days can be awful."

Amber made a scoffing sound. She knew how awful kids could be because she was one of the awful ones. Maybe her mother was right, and it was just a mind game. A very messed up one.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and jumped up, seeing Greg had summoned her. Her excitement overtook any emotions she felt about her adoption.

"Get here in ten minutes," it said, prompting her to rush off despite her Mum's protests that they needed to discuss this further.

"We'll talk later," she shouted as she closed the door behind her and half-walked, half-ran to Ruby's house.

When she got to Ruby's room, she found Damien and the other lads were there, lined up on the sofa next to Greg.

"Damien was telling me about the time you got your male friends to pin him down and force-feed him a hamburger," Greg interrupted, looking at her like she was the worst human being on the planet.

'Damn it, Damien,' she thought angrily. She'd only done it because he'd made her look like a complete idiot in front of the gorgeous substitute teacher she'd been desperately trying to seduce. Now she thought about it, it was a gross overreaction and a horrible thing to do.

"I'm really sorry, Damien," she said, looking down.

"That's not good enough," Greg told her. "Get down on your knees and apologize."

Amber's eyes jarred open wide, shocked by the anger in his voice. She shook her head and took a deep breath before lowering herself to a kneeling position.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "It was a really shitty thing to do. I... I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

She stared down at Damien's boots, listening to the others snicker quietly at her expense. He wore similar boots to Greg, except they had straps as well as laces and were more beaten up.

"Hmm, I forgive you I guess," Damien muttered quietly.

"Thank you," Amber said, matching his tone.

As she went to get up Greg sprang into action, grabbing her by the neck and forcing her head down.

"Kiss his boots," Greg demanded, forcing her face into the dirty leather.

It struck her as odd that he would use force since she would obey either way. When he released his hold on her neck he sat back cross-legged, and smirked.

"In fact, lick his boots clean," Greg said. His eyes sparkled with sadistic joy, unblinking as he saw the look of contention on her face.

Not only was it beyond humiliating, as the other lads laughed like hyenas and Damien stared down at her with a confused half-smile, but it was gross. Why would he want her to lick another guy's boots? What did he get out of it?

As she looked into his eyes, all she could guess was this was meant to torture her.

'He gets off humiliating me,' she realized.

The thought that she could just say no and walk out, saving her dignity, was quickly scrubbed away by her need to keep Greg happy.

'If he decides he doesn't want me anymore, I'll be worthless.'

Her self-esteem reached an all-time low as she stuck out her tongue and licked away the dust.

"Dude," Damien said, addressing Greg. "What the fuck?"

"She'll do whatever I say," Greg told him with a hint of arrogance that would be easy to miss.

"Oh, what?" Shane cried. "So, make her get naked and fuck us already."

Amber closed her eyes, feeling her blood run cold.

"Damien?" Greg asked. "What do you think? You forgive her yet or shall we punish her some more?"

Feeling the cold hands of dread clambering at her, Amber's head snapped up. She stared at Damien with wide, pleading eyes.

Not wanting the others to hear, she leaned in, aware that her breasts were pressing against him as she whispered into his ear, begging him to take pity on her.

"Please have mercy, Damien, please," she whispered frantically as the other lads discussed what they'd have her do in graphic detail.

After a second, he gently nudged her away, giving her the strangest look.

"You guys are disgusting," he cried. "Women are not objects to fulfil your perverted sexual desires."

He picked up the remote controller. "Object."

He picked up the empty coffee mug. "Object."

He placed a hand on Amber's shoulder. "Not an object."

He made this little speech in such a way that it was funny, making the others giggle, but also got the point across.

"If y’all want to be rapists you can do it somewhere far away from me," he said finally, crossing his arms to indicate the subject was closed.

"Come on, let's play some Warfare," Jay cried, taking the hint.

His words sank in as she watched the guys taking turns at the boring shooting game. She had no interest in it so sat stared into space as they entertained themselves and ignored her.

'Would it really be rape if he told me to have sex with them and I did it?' Amber wondered. Damien seemed to think so, but he had some odd opinions—like the whole vegan thing.

As she watched Greg and Damien play each other, sitting side by side, she noticed how similar they were in looks and style. She would never have considered Damien as boyfriend material in a billion years, yet she had fallen head over heels for Greg who, all things considered, was a crueler version of him.

'Am I only attracted to guys who want to use or abuse me?' she asked herself. First Tom, who had used her best friend to torment her, and now Greg who was torturing and subjugating her not only for his personal amusement, but to please his friends.

When Damien's turn was over, he returned to the sofa, gracing her with one of those polite smiles as he sat next to her.

"Thank you," she said.

He looked down at let out a loud sigh before turning to her.

"Give me your phone," he said.

Amber pulled her phone from her pocket and put in the passcode before handing it over. She didn’t even think to ask why or say no.

"I'm downloading some songs for you. If you want to thank me, listen to these songs over and over until you know the lyrics by heart. Okay?"

Amber nodded slowly, frowning. "O—okay."

When he handed the phone back to her, she found the new songs in her playlist. 'Fuck machine,' and 'Refusing to be a man,' both by a band called Propagandhi.

At first, she was confused by his motives, but as she put her headphones in and listened, she realized the songs were about sexism.

Staring at the coffee mug and remote control, a stomach-wrenching question popped into her mind.

'If he sees me as an object, how can he ever love me?'