You Loved Me At My Darkest

by Evie Harper

  We get back to our room and drop to our beds exhausted. Our legs are killing us from all the walking. On our way back to the hotel, Sash and I decided it’s time to move on. The last two weeks have been wonderful, but it's time to see more wonderful places. New Orleans will be our next stop. We booked a flight for tomorrow night. Excited about heading to a new place, the air hums with our renewed energy, ready to leave New York with a bang. We settle on a rave party we saw signs for today. Bring on our final night in New York City!

  ***

  Standing on the balcony looking out over the sea of dancing, sweaty bodies, all I can think about is her. I need to get her out of my head and feel another woman's warm pussy around my cock. Yeah, that will make me forget about her. I need to burn this energy off, so I don't go back to the hotel and wait around like a pathetic loser to catch a glimpse of her.

  I’m scouring the dance floor, looking for any woman who looks like she will be an easy fuck, someone who won’t want the bullshit talking beforehand. That’s when I spot Mick walking up the stairs to the balcony.

  "Well, fuck, you eventually decide to turn up when I ask. Where the fuck have you been for the past two weeks? You haven't answered any of my calls. Marco's been asking for progress reports, you find anyone?"

  I have. She's perfect. But I can't do it. She's too innocent, too fucking special. "No, I didn't find anyone who matches what Marco wants," I reply, still scanning the dance floor.

  “Well, I found someone an hour ago, and she is exactly what Marco asked for. She comes with a bonus as well, plucked them right off the street, easy as pie.”

  Mick pats my shoulder and says, “So it's time to go home now."

  Thank fuck, they finally found someone. I can leave this fucking city and stop my growing obsession for this woman from getting any worse.

  I push back from the railing and follow Mick down the small hall and out the exit doors, where we walk down the stairs on the outside of the building. There're two black vans parked at the underside of the stairs.

  "Take the second van, Jake. It has the package. I'll lead in the first van, with the bonus package."

  I nod and walk to the van. Opening the door, I take a step in and freeze. All the blood drains from my face, and my heart completely stops. I'm looking straight at her, Lily Morgan. Bound and gagged, she’s staring up at me with wide, terrified eyes.

  In the end, the innocent lamb was caught by the blood thirsty fox, just by another fox.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nightmares Do Come True

  Tears stream down my face, my heavy breathing steering my body into a full-blown panic attack. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. The haze starts to clear, my calm breaths helping. My ankles and calves are numb, and my shoulders are aching from kneeling on rough flooring, gagged with my hands tied behind my back.

  Sasha and I were on our way to the underground rave when two black vans parked next to us. Oblivious to the danger, hands and bodies were suddenly pushing us into the vans, me in one and Sasha in the other. It’s eerie to remember how easy it was just to take us; we didn’t even get one single scream out before the doors were closed and the van sped off.

  Inside the van, I was grabbed by a man from behind, his hands pulling my arms backwards. I twisted and thumped against him to get out of his grasp. I fought fiercely, but it wasn’t enough. With all his strength, the man leaned down on my back, and I fell to my knees, a ripping sound came from somewhere on my short blue dress. The man pushed me facedown to the floor, and my hands were tied behind my back. I screamed and jerked, but no one could hear me, and no one was going to save me. A gag was forced over my mouth and tied around my head tightly.

  That man is now sitting to my left. Despite his short black hair, scrawny face and body, he was still strong enough to overpower me. The van comes to a stop, and we sit silently, unmoving. I have no idea how long the van parks for. All I can do is try to calm my breathing and hope they only wanted to scare us and would soon tell me what they wanted. Please be money. Please just want money.

  The van’s door opens and a man steps in. He looks at me, and then freezes. He seems shocked, as if he knows me, but that’s not possible. I would remember him. He looks early thirties with messy hair, short on sides, little longer on top with a sharp jaw and dark three-day-old stubble, very masculine and ruggedly handsome. He is wearing jeans and a black leather jacket; he is tall with broad shoulders, and a tattoo peeks out from his black shirt just below his neck. His eyes are dark brown. His body screams power, but his eyes show softness.

  If I had seen him out somewhere, I would instantly think he was out of my league. I can only imagine what a smile on his face would look like. It would probably make the most faithful woman think about stripping him naked.

  Our eyes are locked together, the stare intense. My first instinct is to ask him to help me, but my hopes dissolve when I hear, “Jake,” from the man who tied me up.

  Hearing his name shakes him from our locked gaze. Jake nods his head toward the man near me, closes the van door and takes a seat on the floor straight across from me.

  “Jake,” the man to my left again says his name, sharply this time.

  Jake flicks his brown eyes up, and he quickly catches a black bag he is tossed, placing it on the floor beside him without even looking at it.

  I feel uneasy as he keeps watching me, yet my cheeks heat from his attention, but it’s nothing compared to the fear pumping to my heart, doubling its speed.

  My stomach knots as my body rocks sideways from the van driving again. Where are we going? I want to ask questions, but I can barely swallow with this gag in, let alone talk, drooling could become a problem soon. I try to shift the gag around by clenching and smiling wide trying to stretch the material.

  All of a sudden, Jake moves toward me, and I flinch as he reaches out with his hands. It takes me a moment to realise he’s loosening the tie at the back of my head.

  "Fuck Joey, you did the gag tight enough. We’re kidnapping her, not trying to suffocate her." His voice is tight; however, I notice a slight husky tone in his American accent.

  With the material loosened, Jake moves back to his seat and my shoulders sag with the relief, my cheeks rejoice from the pressure being released.

  "The bitch is feisty. She was kicking and screaming. I had to do it fast, Jake," Joey whines.

  Jake grits his teeth and looks to the side, rubbing his hand over his chest once. He runs his fingers through his short hair as he sits back and glances at the ceiling. He closes his eyes and gets comfortable, and that’s how he stays for the rest of the ride in the van.

  After what feels like half an hour, the van comes to a stop.

  A knock comes on the van door and a man yells. “Ready!”

  Joey stands and opens the door.

  Jake moves toward me with the black cotton bag he caught earlier, and he shoves it over my head and down my face until I am in complete darkness, my hot breath filling the bag, creating heat around my face. Palpitations fill my chest, and my mind races with thoughts of what this could mean.

  Hands touch my waist, and immediately, I thrash around and yell, “Let me go!” but it comes out skewed under my gag.

  "Stop.” Jake’s voice is stern. “If you keep squirming, I will have to carry you over my shoulder, and trust me, in your dress you don't want that.” I freeze and decide he’s probably right.

  “I'm taking you into a warehouse where your sister will be, and we will be getting the two of you ready for transport. This will go easier if you don’t struggle. There is no escape, but there will be pain if you fight." A whimper slips through my lips. Transport. Pain.

  He picks me up and carries me like a parent would hold a small child. The first thing I feel is the chilly night air hit my legs as we leave the van. My chest is rising and falling fast, and my breaths are coming in short bursts.

  “Calm down,” he growls.

  This guy is insane if he thinks I can be calm through a
ny of this. However, I try, attempting to concentrate on the future, and any opportunities to get away. Slowly, my heartbeat calms, and I take stock of being in Jake’s arms. His heart is beating rapidly; so much so, I can feel the thumps on my right arm.

  Suddenly, the cool breeze is gone, and it feels as if we entered a building. Jake stops, kneels and lowers me to the ground. I’m lying on a cold cement floor.

  Hands wrap around my shins, and a sticky material is tied around my ankles. I kick out at whoever is holding them, but my legs are easily restrained.

  The bag is ripped off my head, and as soon as my head is free, I look around wildly for Sasha. All I see is what looks like a warehouse with aeroplanes and five or six men walking around. I turn my head the other way, and then I see her. She’s lying about five metres from me, gagged, her hands and feet tied up the same as mine. Her head is turned toward me, her body shaking, with tears falling from her terror-stricken eyes that stand out from her pale face.

  Tears flood my eyes, and a cry escapes me at seeing my little sister so scared. I try to communicate with my eyes and tell her it’s going to be okay, but I’m not sure she understands me. She’s too far gone, too afraid.

  I see Joey kneeling over Sasha. He has a needle in his hand, and my heart accelerates so fast I think it will explode out of my chest. I start screaming under my gagged mouth when I see him place his hand on Sasha’s head and stick the needle into her neck.

  I roll to my side trying to crawl to my sister. But I’m pulled back and held down, a hand pushes on my head and I feel a sting. I groan, frustrated, knowing they just did the same to me.

  My eyes start to feel heavy, and I try to fight to stay awake, knowing whatever they have just given us is to make us sleep. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I watch a man walk over to Joey. He points to Sasha.

  “Take that one with you.”

  “Will do, Mick,” Joey replies.

  The man moves his head my way. “This one will come with me. Jake, you go with Joey and make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  My eyes get heavier with every second that ticks by. I take one last glance at Sasha and see she’s already passed out and being carried over Joey’s shoulder.

  Rolling my head to the side, I taste salty tears on my lips. My head is heavy, and everything is going in slow motion. Consciousness is slowly slipping away from me, but not before I look up and see him, staring back down at me. I slip into a deep sleep while staring into his dark brown eyes.

  ***

  I wake to a strange smell of musty air-conditioned air, my head throbbing the more I wake up. I want to rub my temple, but my arms feel sore when I try to lift them like I slept in the same position for too long. I freeze, remembering the van, being tied up, the warehouse, Sasha!

  My eyes dart open, and I sit up. Looking around the room, my head spins from the quick movement and my stomach rolls at the dizziness. I’m in a tiny room with a double bed and some cupboards to each side. I feel a dip, and grab hold of the bed tighter with my hands. A plane, oh, God, I’m on a plane. Holding onto the covers, I realise my hands and ankles are now free.

  My eyes start to go glassy, and I look around the tiny room for any signs of Sasha. Shit, where are they taking me? Where’s Sasha? A lump forms in my throat as I feel my sanity start to lose its grip on my mind.

  With glassy eyes, I get up and pound on the door that sits right in front of the bed. It opens, and a man walks into the room. I step back and fall to the bed when the back of my knees hit it. I remember him. He was at the warehouse. They called him Mick.

  He’s a tall, large guy, with shoulder-length light brown hair and bushy eyebrows. He smirks at me, and it pisses me off.

  “Where’s my sister?” I hiss, with shaking hands, sounding braver than I feel.

  “Hello, Lily,” he says, bringing my licence up to his face.

  My stomach drops. He went through my handbag, and now he has everything; my passport, all our money, our home address.

  “Don’t worry about your sister. She’s safe, for now.” His voice is rough and irritating to my ears. “Just like you are. Keep being a good girl, and then nothing will happen to you, on this flight anyway,” he finishes with a sly smile.

  I narrow my eyes at him and think of every possible way I could maim and kill him. Losing my patience with his games, I scream at the top of my lungs, “Sasha!” I take a big breath in and scream again, “Sasha!” I inhale another big breath when Mick interrupts me.

  “That won’t do you any good. She isn’t on this plane.”

  My body stills and my throat constricts. My fear is confirmed. They have separated us, not just by rooms but by miles, possibly countries. Oh, my God, shit, what am I going to do? I need to get to my sister.

  He must see the panic on my face because he informs me, “Don’t worry. You will see her soon. She may be on another plane, but she is headed in the same direction we are.”

  “And where is that?”

  Mick grins. “None of your business, little girl.” Little girl, he can’t be much older than me.

  I laugh at his answer, and it comes out strangled. “You think you can just kidnap people. You can’t. The hotel will wonder where we are!” I end on a shout.

  Mick jumps forward and backhands my face. I fall back to the bed with a scream and curl into my body to protect myself from any more strikes. The right side of my face pulsates with pain as the sheets of the bed rub against my tender skin.

  I’m facing the wall when I hear him laugh. A whimper rises to my throat, but I won’t let it fall from my lips. I swallow it down and will my tears not to escape. I will not satisfy what he obviously gets off on, and that’s seeing women as an object to hurt and demoralise.

  “I told you, you would be safe as long as you behaved. That was just a little taste. Now shut your fucking mouth and stop asking questions.” He kneels down on the bed and whispers in my ear, “Forget your old life, Lily. You are now owned. You no longer have a say in anything that happens to you. Who knows, a feisty bitch like you might enjoy all the cock you will get.”

  That is all it takes for my facade to crumble, causing the whimpers to tear from my throat.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Owned

  What feels like three or four hours later, the door to the room opens and rough hands grip my upper arms. “Get up.” Mick pulls me from the small bed.

  He takes me out of the room, and we walk through a set of seats. I notice the plane is just as long as any normal plane, except the seats are black and luxurious. A man opens the exit door and steps out of the plane with luggage.

  Mick stops us at the plane’s open exit door, and pain shoots up my arm as his grip on my upper arm forcefully pulls my shoulder on an angle, so I am facing him.

  “Don’t even think about trying anything when you leave this plane. See that car down there.” I look to where he’s pointing and see a black shiny limo. “Your sister is in that car waiting for you.” I whip my head back to him, ready to get going. “Try to run or struggle, and that car will drive away, and you will never see your precious sister again. Do you understand me?”

  I glare at him, sneering my answer, “Yes.”

  Mick squeezes my arm tighter, and I flinch at the pain. “See now that attitude is going to get you into a lot of trouble, Lily.”

  I square my shoulders to show him I’m not afraid of him. I am though. I’m terrified.

  He shakes his head then pulls me down the stairs, leaving the plane.

  We reach the bottom of the stairs, and Jake walks up to us, again his gaze penetrates into my eyes and I’m confused as to why the intensity is there.

  "Jake, take Lily to the car and make sure she behaves. She’s already fallen onto my hand once. Wouldn’t want that to happen again,” Mick says, wearing a smug look.

  Immediately, Jake’s eyes roam my face until he stops on my right cheek. He shows no emotion though, just a blank expression. Bastards, all of them.

  Jake starts pulli
ng me along with him. His steps are twice as big as mine. “I can walk on my own. You don’t have to drag me.” My voice is low and angry, frustration radiating off me. I try and pull my arm free, but I fail miserably. There is no way I can match his strength.

  Jake jerks me into him roughly, and I gasp at the shock of being held so tightly to his chest. He’s huge and his hands feel warm on my skin. It feels nice. That thought alone confuses and disgusts me, as if I would ever find comfort in someone like him.

  Jake looks over to Mick, who is walking around to the other side of the plane talking to two other men.

  His head turns back to me, and I have his attention again. He speaks low and impatiently, "You need to watch your mouth. Trust me. A backhand to your face is nothing to these men. Start realising you are in a different world now, a world where you have been caught and are now owned. You may not respect any of us, but we will demand it from you, or there will be punishments.” I find my mouth wide open and clamp it shut. That word again, owned.

  “There are other men where you’re going, and they are just like Mick. If you aren’t picked into the collection and become a slave of the house or sold off to God knows where. To those men, you are just an object they are allowed to play with. Don't give them reasons to take it further."

  Collection, other girls, slave of the house. Terror rolls through me. This is hell. I have entered hell, and I’m entering it with my little sister. How can I protect her?

  He starts walking again and my feet trip over themselves, my mind still stuck on his words. He slows his pace as I whisper, still stunned, "What’s with the warnings. I’m sure my sister and I are just pay cheques to you, or are you one of those perverted sickos who actually gets off on seeing girls beaten and raped.”

  Jake scowls at me, frustration coating his features as he rubs his hand across his head angrily. “Fuck, no, I'm not, this is strictly business for me. Take my advice or leave it. I don’t fucking care.” His words sound strangled, as if it took great effort to get them out.