by Maegan Abel
It took a moment for it to register that he had released my hands and I immediately went for his face. He grunted in pain as I just missed his eye with my nails, catching his cheek and leaving a trail of red as I tore skin. Finally tiring of the game, he reached behind him, pulling a gun from the waistband of his jeans. I froze the second the barrel pressed against my forehead. His eyes were so far past gone, I was suddenly sure he was going to kill me right then.
“Do it,” I said before I even thought to say it. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I wouldn’t get out of this.
My life would never be my own again.
I couldn’t tell whether his finger was twitching closer to the trigger but I honestly hoped it was. I felt the barrel press harder for a moment before he pulled it back, leaning down to speak right into my face.
“If you fight, I’ll kill her. And then I’ll go back for your kid.”
His threat was directly on point and all fight immediately drained from me as bile burned in my throat. How had it never occurred to me before this moment? They’d kidnapped me from my home. They knew how to find Conner. I closed my eyes, ignoring his movements and trying to focus on the small success I’d had today. It was me taking the brunt of Andre’s anger, not the girl.
“Eyes open.” The tap of heavy metal against my forehead had me following the command as I looked through Andre rather than at him. I didn’t look away from his eyes but I wasn’t actually seeing them either.
I ignored him, the way he moved, the weight of his body over mine, the sounds he made, the words he spoke. They registered somewhere in the back of my mind and I did my best to follow the direct orders, my body on autopilot.
But I wasn’t there. Not really. Not in any way that would’ve mattered to someone if they cared in the slightest. But monsters have no feelings. That’s what makes them monsters.
I tried to shut down completely, pull into myself the way I’d perfected years ago in order to protect myself, but it was harder than I ever could’ve imagined. I had one thought, one person on my mind as his fingers dug into my flesh so hard, I was sure he would leave even more bruises. Zane. My heart ached with the loss of what we had and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears.
Andre grinned and it only fueled my hatred for him, for this world. He was proud of himself and I was giving him just what he wanted. But, I couldn’t shut it off. The tears streamed from eyes, and I tried to focus on them. Some trailed down, dripping uncomfortably into my ears, while others dampened the matted strands of my hair.
My thoughts came back to Zane. The tears burned both my eyes and skin like acid as I remembered how much I’d cried over the last…how many days had it been? Two? I tried to push aside the pain and the memories of how much I missed him.
I wished more than anything else in the world I hadn’t turned away from him in the kitchen. He was apologizing to me and the last things I said to him were in anger. Yes, I told him I loved him, but it wasn’t enough. For the first time since this nightmare began, I imagined the pain he was going through. I knew Zane well enough to know he was blaming himself and I wished there were some way I could let him know this wasn’t his fault.
I let out a small cry when a hand collided with my cheek. My eyes flew open as I realized my mistake. I stared up again, unable to see Andre through the blur of tears but fighting to keep still as my body trembled uncontrollably. By his labored breathing, I knew he was almost finished. I wanted nothing more than to be done with this. I tried to lift my hips, meet him, help him finish just to make it end faster. I tried to ignore the groan of pleasure and the slowing of his movements.
Luckily, if anything about this nightmare could be described with that word, I still couldn’t feel the pain from the violation.
Physically, at least.
Chapter Fourteen
New Arrivals
“Are you asleep?”
It was the first time she’d spoken since Andre finished with me and left, tossing a threat over his shoulder that he’d be back for her later. Someone, maybe her, had taken the time to throw a blanket over my exposed lower body. I kept my eyes closed, considering whether to respond for a solid thirty seconds before I sighed.
“No.”
I heard her shifting and the weight of the blanket adjusting over me followed a moment later. My skin felt raw, even the blanket hurt, but I didn’t complain. Instead, I peeled my eyes open and watched her settle onto the floor beside my bed, crossing her legs.
“Thank you,” I said, not sure what else to do as the silence stretched again.
“Why did you do that?” she finally asked, her voice soft.
I sighed, shuffling slightly in a vain attempt to get comfortable. “How old are you?” I mirrored her tone, keeping our conversation private from the women on the other side of the room.
She looked down at the floor, not meeting my eyes. “I turned fifteen last month.”
“I was fourteen when I got raped,” I said, surprised at how much easier it was to say now. Just a few months ago, the thought of what had happened to me was enough to cause me distress. Facing the trial and what happened, bringing it all back to light, had helped me to heal. The girl’s eyes snapped to mine, wide in her shock. “I ran away from home after it happened and eventually ended up…” I paused, glancing around the room. “In a place very similar to this. I spent a while there until I finally gained their trust and found a way out.”
“How?” she asked, sounding almost eager.
“It wasn’t that easy. And it wasn’t the same situation.” I sighed, wanting to give her advice but hating that I had to. She didn’t deserve to be stuck with this life. “The best thing you can do is cooperate. If you fight, they’ll either drug you or beat you to make you compliant.”
“But you fought,” she pointed out, drawing her knees up to her chest as she took in my words.
“I fought because Andre is evil.” I sighed. “I can’t stop you from ever having to deal with the assholes who are only after fear and pain, but I couldn’t sit back and watch your first experience be with someone like that. Not if I could help it.”
“I should’ve stopped him when he was distracted,” she whispered, a stray tear slipping slowly down her cheek. I realized watching what I went through couldn’t have been easy for her.
“No. You did the right thing by staying out of it. You should always stay out of it and do as little as possible to draw attention to yourself. Do your best to be invisible and when the time comes, find somewhere in your mind to escape to. It doesn’t make it all disappear, but it helps.”
It was quiet between us for a while as she processed my words. I ignored the way my entire body ached to move. It felt like I needed to stretch, I wanted to. I wanted to extend my legs, point my toes, and stretch my back. But I didn’t move. I stayed in the same spot and stared blankly at the gray concrete of the wall behind the girl.
“What’s your name?”
I blinked, focusing my attention back on her. “Lili.”
“I’m Emma.”
Just as I started to speak, the door near my feet opened. I froze, ignoring the jolt of pain as my body protested the tension. A man I didn’t recognize entered, shoving three more girls into the room with us before slamming the door behind him.
They huddled together, two of them clearly sisters and the youngest looking to be somewhere around eleven or twelve. It took only a moment to notice the matching dark hair and short stature.
I looked around at the others in the room and realization struck, melting every remaining ounce of hope away.
We’d been chosen for a reason.
This was a line up.
And I really would be worthless if I couldn’t stand.
Telling time was impossible in the confines of the basement. Food was dropped in the room, mainly essentials—water, sandwiches, things like that—and more girls were brought in.
Some, it was easy to tell, had been brutalized or broken before they arrived. S
ome of the men stayed in the room and forced themselves on the girls they brought, or even others. Emma stayed close to me, helping me as I fought to control my anger that I couldn’t do anything on my own. But, she also followed my advice. She stayed quiet, didn’t draw attention, and though a few of the men may have glanced over us, they usually left us alone and opted for the girls who gave them more of what they were looking for.
Just when things started to feel routine, which could’ve been days or weeks, the first change came.
I woke screaming in pain. Emma, who slept on the mattress closest to mine, immediately hushed me. The pain was radiating from my spine straight down both my legs. It was like every nerve that had been tingling or numb since the injury was now live again and in some sick cosmic joke, my brain decided to tell me this while everyone was sleeping by making me feel like the bottom half of my body was actually on fire.
Emma covered my mouth with her hand, trying to say something, but I couldn’t focus on her words. I writhed, feeling like I needed to extinguish the flames surely eating away the flesh on my legs as my mind brought images of the fire to the forefront. Terror seized me, scraping its way through my lungs and out my mouth.
I let out a choked sound, something like a laugh and a shocked gasp, as I patted my legs, a sensation like touching a sunburn spreading over my thighs.
But, it wasn’t just pain.
Yanking the tattered blanket the rest of the way off my legs, I stared down at my feet. Willing my toes to move, I watched the jerky movements, possibly not more than a twitch to anyone else looking, but it didn’t send screaming pain up my body.
“I can move my toes,” I said, aware in some far corner of my mind that I was whispering. There had been a part of me—a very large part—convinced I would die in this basement. While I wasn’t naive enough to believe I would make it out all of this alive, I could suddenly see myself making it for a while. Maybe long enough to have my baby, if I was in fact pregnant.
I’d gotten Conner out. That had been step one. Now, I needed to survive and save our second child.
It took a little time but as the swelling went down, feeling and movement began returning to normal in my lower body. It didn’t stop the pain in my back completely but it was easier to deal with. And easier to maintain dignity when I didn’t have to rely on others just to move. The bruising around my eye looked vicious, from what I was told. There was no mirror in the uncomfortably small bathroom.
Standing was still difficult and I knew it would just be a matter of time before they decided what to do with us.
When that day came, I had to be ready.
I’d started a habit of pacing the small aisle between the mattresses, trying to regain my confidence in my ability to move. Even though it was obvious it was back for good, a part of me was still worried I would wake up and it would be gone again.
The moment I’d been dreading came just as I sat back down on my mattress, feeling stiff from the amount of walking I’d done. The door opened and a line of six men entered the room. There was squealing and scurrying from those nearest to the entrance as they tried to rush away from the men. In the chaos, I grabbed Emma, letting her help me to my feet again.
“Stay close and follow my lead. Try to act confident and unaffected,” I whispered, standing beside her as she nodded and mimicked my stance.
My body ached and I tried to stop the tremor of nerves as the men gained control of the room, partly by showing their strength.
As the room quieted, I took time to scan the men. It was then that my nerves shifted toward panic. Andre was missing but Jake was among them, and there was someone else I recognized. It took only a second to place him and the brief encounter at the motel in Austin replayed in my mind. I’d gotten an eerie feeling from the guy’s pushiness then, but I’d had no idea just how deep the evil inside him was.
While they started spouting orders, I wondered how differently things might’ve gone for me if Zane hadn’t shown up in Austin when he did. Tish watched over me, without a doubt, but there was always a different intensity when Zane protected me.
I tried to remember how many times I’d seen the man before the day he spoke to me. Four? Five, maybe? I couldn’t help but think that, even that day, he’d been trying to figure me out. Some part of him was probably analyzing how closely I was being guarded and how easily I could disappear.
But, it still didn’t make sense.
If he knew, if he was behind this, then why me? He’d seen me at the courthouse, or at least, he’d said he had. He knew there were reporters and that my face was plastered all over the news because of the trial. Why take someone so recognizable? Was that part of the draw?
Before I could come up with any answers, the men started walking around the room. I lifted my chin, shoving everything else aside as I finally found the part of me I’d thought I had lost. The mask was in place, flawless, as the first of the men paused in front of me. He tilted his head, regarding me like I was an art exhibit. When I lifted an eyebrow and didn’t cower or flinch, he grinned and moved on to Emma. Something like pride filled me when she held herself together under his scrutiny.
The man from Austin was the fourth in the line and the second he stepped in front of me, recognition lit his face.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” he asked, obviously not caring in the least that everyone in the room could hear him as he looked me up and down. Other than the occasional sniffle or whimper from one of the women, the room was utterly silent.
As his eyes lingered on my chest the same way they had the day at the railing, I glanced down at my boobs. “They’re tits. You’ve never seen a pair?” It was bold, maybe too much so, but I was glad my voice at least sounded steady.
“Last time I tried, I was run off by your very intimidating bodyguard,” he responded, clearly challenging. The memory of Zane’s arm wrapping around my waist as he hauled me to him protectively resurfaced—the immediate relief I felt at his touch, that something inside me knew Zane was safety and security, it all rose and choked off any smart reply I could think to make.
Instead, I used my actions. Grabbing the front of my tank top, I lifted the hem to my chin, keeping my expression even as the men in the room stopped to stare.
I realized then that I was a different person. The girl who ended up stripping in Vegas was shy about taking off her clothes. Becoming Lili, finding that strength, learning how to use my sexuality to my own advantage—all of that could help me now.
I just had to let go of the rest of the memories attached to Lili.
“Nice,” the man said, his eyes roaming my chest before returning to my face. “But it seems you like to fight,” he said, studying the side of my still bruised face.
I was caught off guard, not sure how to respond as I lowered my shirt. For most of these guys, sass and fight was a good thing. It seemed, for him, it wasn’t.
“She fought until Andre reminded her we have leverage. She has a kid,” Jake said, his voice matter-of-fact. “And we know how to get to him if we need to.”
“You won’t need to,” I said quickly, my voice betraying my panic. “I’ll cooperate.”
He seemed to assess my answer, looking me up and down again as he pursed his lips. “She comes south with me.”
My mind buzzed with the new information. South? South where? Where were we now? But, more importantly, I was suddenly focused on the scrutiny of Emma. For whatever reason, I’d come to feel protective of this girl, and I wanted to keep her close. Maybe, when the time came, I could get her out, too.
She laughed at something the man said and gave him a wink. She was totally different from the girl I’d seen since the day in the van. She was playing the part, the way I’d told her to.
As the room was divided up, I heard talk of checkpoints in different directions between the men. I overheard someone call the man I’d recognized Marco.
After a short debate, Emma ended up with me, along with two other women who looked older
than me, one of which had to be torn away from the young girl in the room. They were separating them and the wailing from the girl grated at my resolve. I wanted to break down for her, for the innocence I’d seen her lose in this room already and the horrible things I knew she’d endure.
It wasn’t until the man with the needle started making his way around the room that I was reminded my own horrors were still to come.
Chapter Fifteen
The Club
Waking up in the back of a moving vehicle was easily becoming my least favorite feeling in the world. The biggest difference this time was the overwhelming urge to vomit. Choking, I rolled to my side, bile cutting off my oxygen as it blocked my windpipe. There was groaning around me as my ears rang from the force of my heaves.
My body trembled as I finally rolled to my back. I could feel the sweat on my forehead, my hair matted against my skin, as my surroundings slowly swam into focus. Another van. Or maybe the same one, I wasn’t really sure. This time, though, there were more of us in the back. I scanned slowly, finding all of them already awake.
I groaned, my head throbbing as I came down from whatever they’d given us. I let out a gasp as someone touched my arm, my head immediately turning to find Emma beside me. Her eyes looked a little hollow as she glanced around and I noticed now that this definitely wasn’t the same van. We were separated from the drivers by a sheet of metal. The van jolted and then shuddered to a stop. The chattering of voices rose as the women started getting antsy.
When the engine cut off, the sound of several voices speaking Spanish became apparent just before the door beside Emma was ripped open. The women around us screamed and I could see the panic on Emma's face. I grabbed her arm, trying to keep her from making a mistake that would cost her life. I yanked her toward me as we began getting pushed from behind, the women around us looking for an escape.
