by Bry Ann
“Hookers,” the man holding me cuts in, narrowing his eyes asshole #4’s way. “Is that a problem?”
“Slave, you mean?” Asshole #4 corrects.
Asshole #3 just grunts. “Tomato, tomato. Whatever you want to call them. Is that a problem? I’m sure Aaron will have no problem finding someone else to do the job.”
“It’s my job,” Asshole #4 states in a flat, but authoritative, voice. Then he turns back to me. I whimper and shuffle my feet. “What’s your name?”
Sage. Nope, not here. I lift my chin, mustering all my courage. “262.” ASSHOLE.
Asshole #4 studies me for a moment before extending his hand. “Nixon, call me Nix.”
“No thanks,” I grit my teeth, ignoring his extended hand.
“Alri—” Nix starts, dropping his hand, but asshole #3 cuts him off with a large slap aimed at me. I stumble completely backward from the force of the blow. I’m not so much scared of falling or the pain at this point, it’s more about my skimpy shirt flying up and revealing my naked self to yet another man. I begin to think that’s exactly what is going to happen, when a strong hand wraps around my arm, pulling me forward. It’s quick. Almost like it was an accident. I glance up to see Nix standing in front of me, jaw ticking at a rapid pace. I duck my head slightly, expressing my gratitude how I can.
Thank you.
I see in his eyes that he accepts it, but doesn’t reply. He simply turns back to the two men and begins discussing “business” again. He’s the same as everyone else. I just caught him off guard so he extended me one small generosity. Bastard.
Asshole #3 jerks on my hair. “Out, 262.”
I fight slightly, but he only pulls on my hair harder. “Remember what I told you back there?” he growls. “I have no problem following through with that.”
I go slack, but by my side, I subtly flip him off to make myself feel better. Maybe I can’t outright do much, but I’m not going to die feeling like a floppy, dead fish. I glance up, grinning only slightly, to see Nix smirking at the hand by my side.
He saw.
Oh, shit.
My eyes widen. He bites his lower lip, amused. Oh wheww, he’s not gonna say anything. Ha! He even found it funny. I would too if I didn’t mean it from the depths of my soul.
As I’m pulled from the room, I meet Nix’s eyes in one desperate attempt to save myself. His fierce but gentle eyes meet mine briefly.
Help me, I beg, using wide, panicked eyes to express that. Please.
He ignores me and goes back to discussing business with asshole #2.
Another tear slips out.
They’re all the same.
Chapter Four
Charles Briar-Rose
“Sir, the property on Larynx Drive needs your attention.”
I slam my fist on the table, making the president of my company start.
“No property needs my attention while my daughter is missing!” I roar.
“Understood,” he mumbles, bustling out of the room.
Goddamnit.
I run my hand through my hair. My wife is calling every cop we know. No one in the world would call us good parents. Sure, we provide for Sage. She’s not hungry or lacking for anything. But I mean, Molly and I weren’t even sure we wanted her ‘til she was ten, then it was one of those you have to accept it, asshole situations. From 10-13 she was an obedient, quiet force in our lives. Our business. It’s all that mattered. At fourteen, she started rebelling in subtle ways. Even when she obeyed the rules, her anger was obvious. It radiated off of her. From 15-16, we either never saw her or she wasn’t home. It wasn’t until her sixteenth birthday that I really looked at her and thought, what the fuck are Molly and I doing?
I distinctly remember it.
Sage was with a young girl, a daughter of one of my business associates, playing this dumb game, “The Floor is Lava” or whatnot. She was so into it. Even at sixteen. Her makeup had come off in the pool, making her look years younger than I was used to seeing her. Her uniquely colored black hair with a green hue was still shiny, but wavy and sopping wet. She ended up spraining her ankle that day. We had to have the family doctor come over and look her over. But seeing her at that appointment, laughing her ass off still from all the fun, I don’t know. It was like I was just seeing the real miracle she was. Of course, I never said any of this to anyone or changed anything. I just thought it. Business went about as usual.
Then red flags started popping up. Ones I was having a harder time ignoring, brushing aside with anger and insults.
Sage was being abused by some punk.
I knew it the minute she come home shaking late at night after walking home. But I didn’t address it. I called her a whore and brushed her aside. I’m so used to protecting my feelings with cruel words, not that that excuses anything. But damn, the bright light in her was dimming. It never dimmed, even with all her suppressed rage aimed her mother’s and my way.
So I talked to Molly, who was completely on the same page. I confronted Sage. I cut back hours. Got a better president so I could spend more time with her.
Too late. I did it all too fucking, goddamn late. Because now she’s gone. She never came home after school that day. I thought she was at her boyfriend’s. Then midnight hit. Then one. Then two. Then morning, and I prayed she was just mad at me. Rebelling. But my daughter is like her mother, all about subtle rebellion. Not outright rage fits or actions. I knew something was wrong. Yesterday I knew. Something happened with that boyfriend of hers. He did something. I just know it. My instincts have never steered me wrong.
The problem is, I’ve been such a fucking awful father, I have no clue who she’s dating. If he goes to her school. Nothing. I only know the functions she’s supposed to be at. What she’s supposed to look like there. What behavior I expect of her.
I drop my face in my hands. No wonder she walked into the hands of some predator. All the financial and business success I’ve had, and I’ve overlooked the one job that really matters.
“Charles?” Molly’s tired voice calls.
I pop up, all business. “Did you find anything? Any news? Any…. anything?”
She shakes her head, lower lip wobbling. “Oh God.”
Her legs give out. I scramble over and catch her. “Hey, hey, we’ll find her.”
“This is all our fault!” she wails, slamming her fists into my chest. “Oh my God. Oh my God. If she dies, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
Yeah, me neither. “Let’s not think that way. I’m going to find her.”
I use my sternest CEO voice, even though it’s complete bullshit.
“Charles, what is she going through?” she whispers. “How could we have been so cold?”
I honestly don’t know.
“When we find her, whatever happened, we’re donating a large portion of our proceeds to that cause and … and we’ll get her all the help she needs.”
“Molly,” I pull away, “I don’t think that’s really what she’s going to need from us.”
Molly’s face crumbles.
“I… I… don’t…”
I sigh. “Just keep pestering people.”
“What are you doing, babe?”
“Nothing.”
I stand and kiss her. Molly glares at me. She hates when I act like she’s easily persuaded by a kiss. She’s an intelligent woman, Molly. Like me. Obviously, or Sage would have gotten some goddamn love in her childhood. The two of us being married is a tragedy for a child, especially a young girl. We’re too greedy.
“Charles…” she growls.
I play with the hem of her dress, making her freeze.
“You’ll feel like shit if I turn you on right now, so go before I do so.”
She leans forward and grabs my crotch, hard, before storming out of the room. I smirk a little. Well, that’s why I love her.
I sigh and lean over my desk, exhausted. My exhaustion doesn’t matter. If it doesn’t matter in business, then it sure as hell doesn’t ma
tter now. After all the calls I’ve put in, all the cops and agents I’ve spoken with, I know this isn’t going to be solved on the right side of the law. See, being as successful as I am garners you contacts that aren’t always clean, let’s just say.
I know only one man for this job.
I grab my phone and dial the number of a prominent lawyer friend I go golfing with.
“Charles,” he grumbles into the speaker, “why are you calling me this late?”
“David, I need a meeting with Aaron Marketta.”
His gasp is audible through the speaker.
“Charles, why the hell would you want a meeting with that prick?”
I straighten in my chair. “My reasoning is none of your business. I believe you owe me a favor. This is me calling it in. Get me that damn meeting.”
Click.
I’m getting my daughter back by any means necessary.
It’s the least I can fucking do.
Chapter Five
Sage
Wait, no, this is wrong. Take me back. Stop.
I dig my heels into the ground to try to stop the inevitable.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” he roars when my fight causes him to stumble. He yanks hard on my hair and pulls me into his body, wrapping an arm around my throat.
“Don’t make it harder for us to keep you alive then it is for us to kill you.”
With that, he throws me forward, bruised and terrified. I’m shivering so hard I can’t see straight.
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t give me any indication of where we’re going. Nothing. I can’t even ask.
I’m ushered through a darkened hallway that seems to be completely hidden and separate from the main compound. As we get further down this tunnel, I start to hear voices.
Female voices.
There are others.
Oh God.
That hits me like a boulder to the gut.
I never want anyone to experience what I am. No. No. No.
I hear a familiar voice that makes everything inside me curl up and hide.
Sty.
Instantly, I shut down. The fight leaves. I’m just… gone.
“I’m Tammy. I’m gonna get you ready,” a woman says, popping up out of seemingly nowhere.
She has a name, not a number?
This woman has dark, stringy black hair. Deep green eyes. An overly thin, pale frame. Her pupils are dilated. She’s high. I’m sure that explains that lack of trauma in her eyes. I don’t want those drugs again. If I’m gonna be here, I want to be here. I don’t want my body any more out of control than it already is. Although, I doubt I’ll have much of a choice.
“Come.”
I’m thrown forward into Tammy. She scowls at me when I collide with her side.
“Watch it!” she snaps, shoving me off of her. When her arms are out, I notice the bruises trailing down her arm. It hurts my heart.
“You have an hour,” asshole #3 snaps.
Then he’s gone. I should be relieved, like I was relieved in the tiny room when they left. But I’m not. Because Sty’s somewhere around here. I should hate him with everything in me, but part of me still loves him. Part of me is still desperate to please him, and it’s sick. So, so sick. It makes me want to die.
“Well, come on. Trust me, you don’t want to find out what happens if you aren’t ready.”
She snatches my wrist and starts dragging me forward. We round a corner and that’s when I curl up and die. Sty stands there with some woman shoved against a wall, silently suffering, aggressively feeling her up. When he sees me, he stops what he’s doing and smirks. The girl scatters backward, looking relieved for the intervention. Which, I guess, is the only good thing about me being here.
“Hey, 262.”
His eyes light up with amusement at my expense. All that escapes my mouth is a whimper. I try to go backward, but the woman, Tammy, places a hand on my lower back, stopping me. It’s almost gentle, a warning, which makes me pause. Tammy seemed so aggressive and cold moments ago, so I listen to the silent warning she just gave me.
But she can’t make me respond to him.
“I was talking to you!” he snaps. I don’t know him. I don’t know him. I don’t know him. “Well…?” he growls.
Both women are staring at me, horrified, but I can’t talk to him. I’ll break. I’ll shatter right here on this ground in my flimsy white t-shirt.
I hear the crunch of a fist landing on bone, but it takes a moment for me to realize that it’s my face the hardened knuckles landed on. I hear the second woman yelp, and with it, I’m tackled to the ground.
Swack! Swack! Swack! To my side, legs, chest.
I don’t really feel it. It’s more like a pressure landing on my skin. My mind is elsewhere, gone. Watching a man you thought was your future traffic you, beat you… it’s too much. He was my source of love and he shattered it in the worst way.
“Sty! Z wants her ready in an hour. I can’t have that done if she’s bleeding,” Tammy yells in a bored tone.
With a growl and a final punch, he slides off my shivering body. I hear him snapping at Tammy, but I don’t understand a word he’s saying. With his body, eyes, and smell off of me, the pain starts to register.
… And HOLY SHIT.
Everything is throbbing.
That was so dumb of me. I should have just… just answered him. How stupid. It’s not worth this.
“Hey, angel, my name’s Pamela. Tammy!” She snaps. “Grab her something from the stash.”
Tammy groans. “This isn’t that bad. She’ll be fine. I’m not wasting it on—”
I feel the woman next to me tense.
“It’s her first time with this! Get her some damn drugs, Tammy.”
With an exaggerated groan, Tammy storms off. Brushing my hair back, Pamela leans into my ear.
“Ignore her. Tammy’s cool. She’s just high on drugs and doesn’t care anymore. It happens when your mind travels too far from your body, too often.”
Another soft stroke of my hair, calming my throbbing head.
“I’m giving you the drugs now, but don’t take them too much. You’ll lose yourself forever. You’ll be forced sometimes, but they are trying to get you addicted. To trap you. Don’t let ‘em. We only have these stashed for emergencies.”
“Here.”
Tammy thrusts something in Pamela’s face.
“Yeah, thanks, Tam,” Pamela grumbles. “Okay, doll,” she says, turning to me, “up you go.”
She slides a hand under my lower back and lifts me into a sitting position. I scrunch my face and grit my teeth, trying to bare the pain. Pamela places something under my nose.
“Sniff.”
“No, please…”
I try to back away. I’m crying. My reality is changing too fast. I don’t want to do drugs. I can feel the tears and snot running down my face.
“I’m so sorry,” Pamela chokes. “It’ll help.”
“We don’t have time for this!” Tammy yells. “I have to have her ready. If she’s not, it’s not just her neck on the line, it’s mine. As much as fun as starving is, I’m also hoping to get fed on top of not being beaten.”
Pamela sighs, before stuffing the powder under my nose again, more aggressively. “Just do it, hun. I won’t ask you to do this again, unless necessary. I’m trying to help you. Trust me.”
I don’t trust anyone. Never again.
“Oh please,” Tammy snickers. “Trust you? Your new adoptive little sister is never gonna trust anyone again.”
“Fuck you, Tammy.”
“Sniff, new girl, so we can get out of here and get going.”
I don’t want to get going. I turn, taking that time to take in the kind woman next to me. She’s got white-blonde hair, aqua colored eyes, and a frame just as thin, if not thinner than Tammy’s. She’s sickly, but still extremely beautiful.
I use my eyes to convey my message. Will this hurt me?
Softening her expression, Pamela gently push
es the powder forward.
“It’s your best bet,” she whispers. “I promise.”
With fear snaking its way through my system, I sniff. As soon as I do, I begin to cough, but can’t dwell on it because Tammy is snatching my arm and yanking me to my feet. I don’t want to go with her. I wanna go with Pamela.
“We have to hurry,” she slurs a little. “We’re low on time.”
She definitely took something from the stash as well. Again, I’m dragged down halls to a tiny room that’s dirty, cold, but clearly meant for women. It’s stocked full of trashy clothes and abundant makeup.
“Sit,” Tammy snaps.
I sit. It’s a dirty, stained, grey makeup chair.
“Are you waxed?”
“Wa-waxed?”
Tammy rolls her eyes, quickly digging through the bag of makeup.
“Has your hair been forcibly removed from your body?”
“Y-yes.” Why? Why? Oh God, why? I’m gonna vomit.
“Everywhere?” Tammy spins, raising a pointed eyebrow.
I look down and whisper, “Yes.”
“Thank fuck.”
She turns back and grabs a handful of makeup and a wipe. Once it’s in place, she starts inspecting my face.
“You take care of yourself. Good.”
It’s not really meant as a compliment. It’s stated so flatly.
“Uh, yes. At… at home, my dad and mom, they—”
“Eh!” She holds up a hand quickly. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Sorry.”
Tammy sighs and slams the makeup down on the counter.
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t talk to me!” Her dilated eyes flare. “I don’t want to hear about your life before here. I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t want to look at your stupid young face longer than I have to. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now shut up.”
So I do. I stay silent as a mouse the entire time Tammy picks at my nails, piles on my makeup, does my hair up in a way I am, unfortunately, all too familiar with. Except for the trashiness of it, it kind of reminds of being home in a way. The show. The fake face I have to put on. I know this part, and as twisted as it is, it makes me feel calm for a moment.
