Shattered (Shattered Duet Book 1)

by Bry Ann

  “I’m so…” Tears slip down my cheeks. It really is all a ploy. Sty was just…

  “Eh!” Tammy snaps, voice weak, cutting me out of my thoughts. “Your turn.”

  “Sty was my boyfriend,” I whisper. “He wanted me to live with him. I told him no, and he… he… when I was on my way over to his house after school, everything went black…”

  My voice gives out. I can’t continue. What I woke up to, I’m still trying to block out to survive.

  “Good for you, girl,” Tammy whispers. “You can hold onto your pride. You told him no. Remember that.”

  With a loud, pained moan, Tammy turns on the bed, curls up, and I know she’s gone for the time being. There is no day and night here. Just trapped and tortured.

  I turn to Pamela, whose eyes soften. Shaking, her hand slips over mine in a show of silent support. We look at each other and I just know, right here, this is how I survive hell.

  “262! Tammy! Up.” Loud thud. “Now!”

  Pam and I fell asleep on the floor, my head on her shoulder. We both scramble to stand, preparing for anything.

  “Are you fucking deaf?”

  I realize I’m only halfway to my feet, so I practically leap forward so I’m standing. I look over to see Tammy standing there, still just in her undergarments, fully submissive and ready.

  “Tammy, get ready and make sure this one is.”

  He points a thumb my way.

  “Yes, Z.”

  “Pamela,” Sty’s voice rings from around the corner, making me freeze. I feel Tammy’s eyes on me, but not prepared for her moody ass, I don’t look.

  “Come.”

  Pamela doesn't make a noise, but there’s a subtle air of rebellion that surrounds her as she approaches the man I thought I loved.

  “Hey, Sage,” he winks. Chills run down my spine. I realize then that I’m crying. I don’t even notice until a tear lands on my forearm. I hate that he’s seeing me cry over him. I want to rip the hair from his head! I hate him! Even with the tears in my eyes, I glare.

  “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll get our time together.”

  With a smug smile, he winks and snatches Pam’s arm so aggressively that a squeak escapes her lips before she’s pulled away.

  “Get her ready,” Z grunts at Tammy.

  “Z?” Tammy whimpers. Whimpers, her. I spin, eyebrows raised.

  He smirks. “Later, baby. Do your job tonight and I’ll get you what you need.” Drugs.

  With the promise of pain in his eyes, he spins on his heel and walks off. For a moment, her wall of impenetrable strength falls. Her shoulders fall, her head falls into her chest as she screams through her teeth. I don’t know what to do. I stand there, awkwardly shuffling on my feet. After a moment, Tammy looks up. When she sees me, snot plastered under my nose, she sighs.

  “Come on. Let’s go. I’m fine.”

  She leads me out of the room we slept in, and to, I assume, the room we got ready in the day before. As we’re walking silently down the hall, I start to hear sounds. At first, it’s just moaning and grunting. Then, a moment later, there’s a scream. A loud, high-pitched scream.

  Pamela!

  “Pam!”

  I lean on my toes, ready to bolt. I need to help her. I have to save her!

  “Woah, woah, woah.” Tammy’s hand snatches the fabric of my top and yanks me back. “You can’t go in there.”

  “What?!” I shriek. “Did you not hear her?”

  I throw my hand to the side dramatically.

  Another scream.

  “You are trying to get your ass beaten,” Tammy groans. She pulls hard on my shirt, forcing me into the room from the day before with the makeup and clothes.

  “She’s hurting!” I scream and cry.

  “Listen to me,” Tammy says in the most urgent voice I’ve heard from her as more pounding echoes through the walls. “You have to leave it. You don’t have a choice.”

  I shake my head rapidly, tears going from my cheeks to the walls. “No, no, I can’t.”

  Pamela screams again. I start to tremble.

  “No, I… I have to help her.”

  “Sage,” Tammy whispers. “It won’t help, hun. If you bust in there, they’ll only beat you, tie Tammy down, and make you watch them hurt her. I’m sorry.”

  Another loud moan of pain.

  “No, no, Tammy, please. We can’t let this happen.”

  “There’s no choice.”

  “There has to be some choice. There has to be!” I scream.

  Tammy’s eyes harden. “There’s not. Accept it or you’re gonna die!”

  “But Sty…”

  Her shoulders fall. Not looking at me, she whispers in a tiny voice, “It’s hard when you think you know someone, love someone, and you find out what monsters they are. Don’t worry, it gets easier.”

  She spins back around and throws something at me.

  “Put this on. We’ll keep you a little more covered again. Your bruises are still healing.”

  My lower lip is trembling so hard I can barely breathe. A whine echoes through the thin wall.

  “Is it gonna end?”

  “Phase it out.”

  “How can you be so cold?”

  Tammy spins around, eyes flaring. “You’re new! You have no clue what it means to survive in a place like this! So shut the fuck up about things you know nothing about.”

  She collapses back into the chair, exhausted.

  Marcus, aka asshole #2, brought us water yesterday and an apple each, but that’s all.

  We’re all starving and tired.

  … And in a tragic, sick, twisted, awful way, Tammy’s right. I don’t know. I don’t know how to survive a place like this, but listening to one of the kindest people I’ve ever met scream in pain, at the hand of a man I once loved, is enough to make a piece of my heart shrivel up and die.

  “Put that on, Sage.”

  This is the worst moment. This is worse than that basement mattress. Shaking with silent tears streaming down my cheeks, I start to strip.

  It’s an agony that can’t be explained in words. It’s having your dignity stripped. Wearing trashy clothes. Getting ready to have your body defiled. Listening to a girl who, after only one day is your sister, getting her body defiled… there are no words. It’s the kind of agony that can’t ever, ever, ever be put into meaningless words on paper.

  I don’t even see the outfit Tammy picked out for me. It doesn’t matter.

  I don’t even think about what’s about to happen to me.

  I can’t stop replaying the sounds of Pamela’s screams in my head.

  “Sage!” Tammy snaps. I can tell she’s at the end of her wits with me, with this, with all of it, without drugs to help her.

  “Don’t try to run today. They’ll find out and hurt you. They have reach.”

  How can she give up? I just can’t understand that.

  “I won’t.” But if I can, I will. I can go to the cops. I can stop this. My dad, he may not love me, but he’s powerful. He can…

  “God, I can almost see your thoughts,” Tammy groans. “You’re gonna get your ass beat.”

  She sighs.

  “I admire your youth and hope, but Pamela’s unique… and stupid. They’re going to steal it from you bit by bit.”

  “You depress me.”

  “Ha! Well, doll face, good. There’s nothing not depressing about this goddamn place.”

  She pats my cheek condescendingly before snatching my wrist and dragging me to the makeup counter. She’s all ready. Deep green eyes painted with heavy, dark green eyeshadow, fake lashes and liner. Thinning black hair under shine spray and the heat of the Chi plugged into the cracking wall. Thin, bruised frame covered in satin olive green fabric that barely covers her ass. It’s sad. It’s so sad. All a show she’s forced to play. I wonder who she was before all this.

  “You two whores ready?”

  I wince. Tammy just stiffens and nods.

  “Yes, Z.”


  He charges forward and snatches her hair, dragging her forward. She barely makes a sound, though it looks immensely painful. In fact, she almost looks happy.

  Drugs.

  She’s gonna get them.

  My face is a mask of pain for the addiction that gives them another piece of her. A piece they should never have. An amount of control that is unjust and unfair. Illegal and wrong.

  “I’ll be back for you,” Z sneers over Tammy’s prone shoulder.

  It hits me then, as the memories of Pamela’s screams reluctantly fade. It’s not going to be someone like Nix this time. I’m… I’m being forced to give up my body for cash.

  Chapter Nine

  Charles Briar-Rose

  “It took me twenty-four fucking hours to get this appointment, so you’ll hear me, Aaron.”

  He smirks. “Something up your ass today, Charles?”

  “You owe me,” I hiss.

  He nods. “I do, in fact.”

  Even criminals as twisted as notorious serial killer Aaron Marketta have some kind of code. In this case, I was able to stop his daughter, Rose Marketta, from figuring out the truth about who he is. It’s a long story. Whether he really loves her or not, or is even capable, is up for debate, but regardless, he didn’t want her to know what he did — what he does. Even from behind bars.

  “I need to speak with your son.”

  His eyebrows raise. “Nixon?”

  “Yes,” I hiss, drumming my fingers on the table. “I’m on a time crunch here. I need to speak with him yesterday.”

  Aaron leans back in the chair. A silence hangs in the room, the only sound being Aaron’s handcuffs clanging against the stainless steel table.

  “I don’t know if I can do that. Nix is on a job right now.”

  “I don’t give one single fuck what job he’s on. My daughter is missing and I want her found. Today. I know what your son can do. I know the shit people say about him. He does jobs most believe to be impossible. That’s what I need. It’s all I’ll accept..”

  Some sort of pride flickers in sick eyes.

  “Now how would you hear that? You’re nothing but a realtor.”

  “You know I’m much more than that. Get me a meeting with your son.”

  He rolls his eyes. I have to dig my nails into the skin under my fine grey suit to keep from strangling him.

  “Alright. Then we’re even, Charlie.”

  “Don’t call me Charlie, Aaron,” I growl.

  He just shakes his head and spouts off a series of numbers that I easily memorize.

  “That gets out and I’ll find a way to kill you myself.”

  “It won’t. Once my daughter is found, we’re done. You know what side of the law I work on, and it sure as hell ain’t the same side you do.”

  “I thought you were in a hurry.”

  I stand without another word.

  “Oh, and Charlie?”

  I fist my hands and spin.

  “Yes?” I grit out.

  “Nix prefers texting.”

  He winks. I just nod and walk out, already texting the number.

  Me: I need to meet with you. Now. Your father sent me.

  Nix: Who’s me? I’m busy. Find another dog to do your dirty work.

  Me: My daughter’s missing. I have to find her.

  There’s a long pause. The whole time, those three typing bubbles are reflected on the screen, making my heart kick into overdrive. Finally, fucking finally, there’s a response.

  Nix: My father really sent you?

  Me: Yes.

  Nix: If he didn’t, I’ll find out. 2484 Lyon Head Drive… Now. I don’t have a lot of time. I have to be somewhere tonight.

  “What the hell do you want?” the young man questions hurriedly the literal second I arrive. “I’m kinda busy.”

  Based on the foot he has twitching under the table, I’d say it’s more than “kinda”.

  “My daughter’s missing.”

  “So I heard. Look, sir, I hate to be an ass, but I’m no savior and, frankly, I don’t know where you heard I was.”

  “I didn’t, but I heard you get the impossible done. This is day five without my daughter. I know the odds. I know the statistics. Only a miracle will find her at this point.”

  He sighs heavily, running a bracelet-laden hand through his dirty blond hair.

  “Look, man, I want to, but—”

  I slam a picture of Sage on the table. God, this guy can’t be much older than her. He has all the features of someone still in their youth — eighteen, nineteen maybe. The only difference is that there’s a hardness in his eyes, a wariness to his soul and stress in his body that most nineteen year olds don’t carry. He’s no kid. Not where it matters, anyway.

  The picture I slammed on the table is Sage on her sixteenth birthday. She’s makeup free, something I never allowed. Her greenish-black hair is wet and tangled and sticking to her clear, pale skin. She’s sticking her tongue out at the camera. You can see the desire to flip me off in her eyes, but she doesn’t do it.

  Obviously.

  I would have taken her goddamn Kindle away for longer. The literal one thing she cares about.

  For the first time since I was a young kid going from home to home in the foster care system, promising to make a better life for myself, I start to tear up.

  How did I fuck up so epically with her?

  I don’t even realize how straight Nix has become until he snatches the picture off the table with such force that the table wobbles.

  “This is your daughter?” he splutters, eyes wide.

  “Yes, Sage Briar-Rose.”

  He runs his fingers over the picture once before catching himself and pushing to stand abruptly.

  “I need time. Don’t contact me. I’ll call you when I have her.”

  I stand immediately. “You know where she is? You know her? Hey! Don’t turn away from me.”

  I snatch his collar and jerk him around. He immediately reaches out, grips my wrist and spins it.

  “Don’t ever grab me. Ya hear? It won’t end well for you.”

  He lets me go, slowly.

  “I’ll get your daughter back, but it’s gonna take time. I need your patience.”

  There’s a desperation to his voice I didn’t expect. He’s imploring with his eyes for me to understand, but I can’t give him that. I can’t give him my patience now. I have to make this right with Sage. I have to save her.

  When I don’t respond, he just nods.

  “Trust. I’m the only choice you have.”

  Then he’s just gone. Slips out the side door like he was never here.

  Time? How much time? What’s happening to her?

  For the first time in my life, I truly hate myself. Deep down to my marrow.

  This is my fault.

  “Sir?”

  Lucinda’s shivering frame comes into view. My eyebrows raise. She never purposely approaches me, let alone tries to speak with me.

  Ever.

  Something else to feel shitty about. One of my men was assaulting her under my nose. Me, I was working.

  I had no idea.

  When did I become this terrible of a person? When did that happen? As a young man, I had nothing but noble intentions. To make myself better. Make the people’s lives around me better. Now all I do is provide, and you know what? That’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

  “Lucinda, how can I help you?”

  A slight squeak of fear escapes her lips, despite her trying to keep it in.

  .“Is… is…” Her eyes fill with water. “Any news on Sage, sir?”

  Tears spill over her cheeks this time. Molly’s pretty much unreachable at this point. Lost in fear, self-hate, despair… all of it. My strong, workaholic wife is realizing the same thing I am.

  God, none of this shit matters. None of our accomplishments matter, because we’re the reason Sage walked into this. Whatever this is.

  I straighten my suit. “Not really Lucinda. I’m sorry. I’ve recr
uited some, ah, help. I feel good about it.”

  “Good,” she whimpers. “Good? It’s been five days!”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “Are you?”

  Everything in me comes alive: every nerve, every cell, every goddamn ounce of emotion.

  “Yes, Lucinda, I’m well fucking aware. Five days, three hours. Okay? I know! I know!”

  The tears from earlier push forward, making Lucinda’s eyes pop out of her head, which only fuels my guilt.

  “You… you miss her, sir?”

  “Yes.” I clear my throat. “Yes, I do. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I hurry past her before she sees the man in the fancy suit break down and cry, because rules aren’t just made for children. They’re made for adults too.

  And I made mine a hell of a long time ago.

  Never let anyone see you cry.

  Chapter Ten

  Sage

  I look around desperately for an escape. There has to be something. There has to be! I feel like a mouse trapped in a cage.

  I run around the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. To use as a tool to find a way out of here. Then my gaze goes back to the door. Could I run? Would I even get anywhere?

  I have to try.

  I… I can’t let this happen.

  I sprint out the open door, frantically looking back and forth for the escape. I’ve never felt more like an animal.

  Left. It’s left. That’s the door out of here. Frantically, I sprint forward. Pushing off my heels, launching into a full sprint.

  “Now, what do we have here?”

  No. Please. I shouldn’t freeze, I should keep running, but I don’t. That’s the one voice that can stop me in my tracks.

  Sty.

  “Turn around, Sage baby.”

  Don’t call me that!

  I grit my teeth, but don’t turn. I feel the energy change as Sty’s mood darkens. There’s a whimper.

  Pam!

  That gets me to turn on my heel. Sty has Pam’s hair. There are tear stains on her cheeks, she’s clothed, but her eyes are distant and cold. It hurts me enough to make me momentarily forget the hell that awaits me.