A P

ng moment, and I felt it happen, felt the part of me that had been holding on, counting down days, surviving on eighteen months and a number in my head, felt it crack. "You promised me," I said, quieter, and I hated how my voice sounded, hated the way it had gone small, "Marcus please, I'm begging you, please don't do this, I'll work extra sets, I'll do more bookings, I'll pay you back every cent he gave you, just please don't do this to me." "It's done," he said, and looked away, "I'm sorry." "No you're not." He didn't answer that, because we both knew I was right. I walked out. Gia was standing by door , arms crossed, reading my face before I even opened my mouth. "He didn't fix it," she said. I couldn't answer, just walked past her toward the locker room and she followed without being asked, closing the door behind us, and the second that door shut something inside me just gave way. I sat down on the bench, put my face in my hands and cried, not the quiet kind, the ugly kind, the kind that had been building for three years of counting days and telling myself it would end, it would actually end, I was almost there. Eighteen months, I was eighteen months away. "Hey," Gia sat beside me and pulled me in, "I've got you, I've got you." "I can't do this again," I said into my hands, "Gia I can't, I cannot be somebody's property again, I can't." "I know." "I was so close, and he just sold me like I'm nothing, like three years meant nothing, like I mean nothing." "You're not nothing," she said, firm, "don't say that." "Then why does every man I come across think they can just own me, what is wrong with me." "Nothing is wrong with you, everything is wrong with them," she grabbed my face in both hands, "do you hear me, nothing is wrong with you." I pulled back and wiped my face with the back of my hand and just sat there breathing, trying to find the floor under my feet again. Then the anger came. It always came after the crying, like it had been waiting just behind it, and when it came this time it came hard. "I'm not going," I said. Gia looked at me, "Zara." "I'm not going, I don't care who he is, I don't care how much he paid, I am not walking out of here with his men tomorrow like some package that got purchased, I would rather die." "Don't say that." "I mean it Gia, I genuinely mean it, I will not be owned again, I cannot survive it again," I stood up, something settling in me cold and decided, "I'm leaving toni