Shattered (Shattered Duet Book 1)

by Bry Ann

  “Quit giving her puppy dog eyes and get your ass back where it’s supposed to be.”

  “What did you do to her, Sty?”

  His eyes flash, but he covers it with a smirk. “I’d be sure to reign in that temper of yours here, Sage. Now go, before I make you.”

  I look at Pamela who is still completely checked out.

  “I…”

  I can’t listen to him and let them do this to me. I can’t. It’ll kill me. I stare at them one last time. Pamela’s in front of Sty, his hand tangled in her hair.

  Now’s my chance. I have to try.

  I turn back on my heel and run. I run like hell. I run for my life. And I run for theirs.

  “Goddamnit, Sage! I gave you a fucking chance!” I hear Sty roar.

  “Run, Sage!” I hear Pamela’s bright voice scream.

  I hear grunts and punches and it makes me want to stop, but I can’t. It won’t do either of us any good. Tammy was right.

  Run. Run. Run. Run, Sage.

  Thwack. Stars fill my vision as I stumble forward. I’m not unconscious. There are no hands on me. Something was thrown. Ignore the pain!

  “RUN, SAGE!” Pamela keeps screaming, over and over, fueling my determination.

  “Goddamnit, you whore!”

  Fuck you, asshole!

  Go. Go. I see the door and push myself forward, despite my dizziness. I throw my hand on the handle, only to find it unmoving. A whimper escapes my lips.

  No! I want to collapse to the floor and cry, but there’s no time. I have to find a weapon. I frantically search, only to find everything bare.

  Thump. Thump. This is hopeless. It can’t be hopeless.

  “Turn around, baby.”

  I clench my fists at the sound of Sty’s voice blocking the hallway.

  “No.”

  “You may want to.”

  Something about his tone sends chills up my spine. I slowly turn, trying to absorb the scene in front of me. Sty is holding a knife up to Pamela’s throat. Her lips are pursed defiantly.

  “I don’t care, Sage. I really don’t. If you can get out—”

  “Shut up, 180!” Sty snaps.

  “I fucking hate you, Sty!” I scream.

  “Come here.”

  He digs the knife deeper into her neck. Pamela doesn’t even flinch. Her head is held high, her face a picture of strength. I mean, she winks at me. She winks! I can’t let someone like her die ‘cause of me. Forcing the motion, I put one foot in front of the other.

  When I’m within arm’s reach, Sty snatches my hair and drags me forward, using the other hand to shove Pamela away.

  “You have a death wish,” Sty growls.

  “Sty, this is my fault. I told her to do it. Let her go,” Pam pleads.

  Sty laughs, but it’s furious and dark. “Sage doesn’t do anything anyone tells her, but that’ll change. I’m surprised Miss Spoiled Bitch here hasn’t broken already. A few of us definitely got a few good fucks out of her back in the room.”

  I shriek and try to jerk free to fucking punch him! He only yanks my hair harder, forcing me into his body. Pamela’s eyes meet mine and what I see makes me want to be braver for her.

  It’s fear. She’s scared for me.I’m scared for me, but I’m more furious and disappointed.

  With his fingers laced through my hair, Sty starts to drag me forward. Despite the pull on my scalp, I fight his pull. I won’t make it easier for him to hurt me. I won’t!

  “Walk, bitch! Pamela, get out of here.”

  Pamela looks torn. She’s limping along with us, staying by me. Her wide eyes meet mine, full of fear.

  I see what she wants to say to me in them. I can’t leave you, Sage.

  It’s fine, I communicate back silently.

  But I don’t know if it really is. God, if Sty murders me… that’s gonna be brutal. Physically, obviously, but emotionally, I can’t even think about it.

  Finally, we reach a small door. Sty throws it open to reveal a cleaning closet. He pulls out a dirty mop bucket. I don’t have time to blink, breathe, or process before he’s shoving my face in it. Immediately, dirty, sudsy water floods all my senses. I frantically try to get out, but it’s useless. He’s too strong.

  My bravado fades away.

  It’s disgusting, but that doesn’t even matter. What does is that I can’t breathe. I can’t get air in. I pound my hands on the sides.

  No. No. No. I can’t die like this. I kick. With a burst of energy, I try to go up, but all I hear is Pamela’s scream before I’m thrust fully back in. I didn’t even have time to breathe. All I feel is the burning in my eyes and nostrils, but I’m fading. That much I know. Drowning is one of the universally worst ways to die.

  Right as I think I’m gonna pass out, I’m pulled from the water. I immediately start gasping for air. I’m thrown to the ground by Pamela, who immediately grabs me and starts to attending to me, emotionally. Grabbing me, holding me, trying to calm my tremors.

  “What the fuck, Sty? She has a job!” I hear Z roar. Ah, so he’s why I was pulled. Never thought I’d be happy to see this asshole.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Pamela keeps rubbing my hair as I shake and cry. It’s sad that this is the first time I’ve received genuine affection. That thought alone almost makes me start crying all over again.

  “I’m so dirty,” I sob.

  “I know, I know,” she soothes. “Shhh…”

  “Pamela!” Z snaps. “Clean her the fuck up. Now. We needed to leave five minutes ago.”

  “Yes, Z,” she sighs, obviously hating every uttered word.

  She waits ‘til they're both gone, screaming at each other, which brings me a little joy to know I caused the riff, before she helps me to my feet.

  “You did so good,” she whispers. “You did so, so good. You were so close. We’ll get ‘em next time.”

  Her fighting spirit helps pull me from my despair for a moment.

  “You’re so brave. Are… are you okay?”

  “Me? Psh, I’m fine. Let’s worry about you.”

  Pamela’s gonna be a great mother one day. If she gets the chance.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  She laughs a little. “Of course you are, angel. Don’t worry about me.”

  And what the fuck are they doing to you, princess?

  Leather bracelets and surfer boy looks creep into my brain. What? I shake my head and frown. What the…

  “You okay?” Pamela whispers urgently, face now etched with concern.

  “Fine,” I respond in a distant tone. “Totally… totally fine.”

  Pamela frowns and begins to fidget. “I… I have to get you ready. I’m sorry. They’ll only hurt you if I don’t. I’ll make it better when you get back.”

  She looks at me, and I’m not even sure she’s knows it, but there’s desperation in her eyes. Like she needs me to be okay. Like she can’t stand the idea that she’s the one who is about to make this worse.

  “No, it’s fine.” I sniffle, feeling dirty suds fly into my nose with the motion. I frantically wipe at my face.

  So she does. She gets me ready, and when we’re done, Z is waiting. Just waiting. Like I didn’t just fight and lose. Like I didn’t get my face shoved into a bucket of dirty mop water.

  Like he’s not about to give my body for someone to violate for a wad of green paper that means nothing!

  I’m shaking so hard on the drive that it makes my stomach start to swirl. Z handcuffed me to the door this time. I know the doors are child locked, so I don’t know what he thinks I’m gonna do, but after my escape attempt, since being nearly drowned wasn’t enough, I’m handcuffed tight enough for the skin on my wrists to be gradually rubbed raw.

  “We’re here,” Z grunts.

  Where the hell is here? We’re on the side of a city street. There are a few other girls as well. All dressed like me. This is like something out of the movies. The cliché scene you think of when you think ‘prostitute’ or ‘hooker’.


  “You don’t have to do this. Just… just let me go. Please let go,” I plead.

  I yank on the handcuff. I’m not getting someone like Nix this time. This is real. This is like the basement, only worse, because my mind’s not protecting me anymore. Oh, please…

  “Shut up,” Z mutters lazily. “Don’t even bother trying anything. I can promise you, you’ll regret it. If you run, we’ll find you. If you escape, I’ll take your friend Amy to replace you. If you scream or tell anyone, I will personally beat you so bad you’ll wish you’d never been born. Understood?”

  I just shake my head back and forth. I can’t respond with words. The only sounds that I’m able to let slip through my lips are whimpers or cries.

  He couldn’t give one actual fuck about that. With a grunt, he climbs out of the car and opens my door. He opens it slowly, thank God, because I’m attached to it. Each inch he pulls, I follow. When he pulls far enough that I’m leaning over the pavement, I let out a squeak. Before I can tumble out, my wrist flies free. I grab the doorknob to keep from falling.

  “Get the fuck out, bitch.”

  I don’t know what else to do but listen and work on my mind. Shut down, Sage. Go away. I can’t physically, but can I do that mentally?

  Work, brain. Well, don’t work. Don’t work.

  “Move,” I hear Z hiss.

  I do. I move, all along working on phasing out everything but his orders so I don’t get beaten or killed or worse. What if someone sees me? Hope spreads and then dies in an instant.

  Who the hell would see me?

  Dad? He’d never come here.

  Amy? We’re no longer friends.

  Nix? His name flutters in my mind and won’t leave. I can see him doing something out here. I mean, he already associates with criminals, despite his age. Would he help me if he saw me out here? If he saw in person what they were making me do?

  No.

  My face falls.

  He wouldn’t. He told me he wouldn’t. I need to stop making him out to be some kind of hero. He’s not. There’s no such thing as heroes. I’m just desperate.

  “Stand here and look pretty. Earn your dinner tonight.” His eyes flicker up and down my frame once. “You’re losing too much weight and you’re shaking. I’m guessing you feel dizzy. You want it to end? Earn your keep. I’ll be back.”

  With that, he turns and goes back to the car.

  Wait, what?! He’s just leaving me here?

  Once he’s in his car, I realize, oh, he’s not moving. He’s babysitting me. Great. I’m stuck shaking on the side of the road. What am I supposed to be doing?

  I watch the other girls. These must be the girls I don’t see. The ones in the place Pam says is for people who have given up fighting. They are possibly the most horrifying thing I’ve seen since I got here.

  No. No. I have to get out of here. I can’t become them. No.

  All of them are thin, excessively so. Their chests are pushed forward, trying to display the little amount of breast they’ve managed to preserve. But that’s not what haunts me. No. It’s the look in their eyes. Dead and high. I might not be anything special, but… but I also see something more for myself.

  So did they, stupid girl.

  No. I start to stumble back, tears pooling in my eyes.

  “Come here, baby.”

  A dark green Pontiac pulls up to the curb. Leaning out the window is a man calling out to my scantily dressed form.

  “Baby!” he yells with more force. I instinctively look to Z, who catches my eye and spins a gun between his fingers in the windshield.

  I think I’d rather be shot.

  But then what happens to Amy? Sweet, honorable, innocent little Amy. Nothing. Nothing will happen to her because of me.

  Trembling, I take several steps forward.

  “H-h-hi.” My teeth are chattering too loudly to form a coherent word as I wrap my arms around my waist.

  “How much?”

  We never discussed prices. My wide eyes go to Z again. He looks furious. I have to do this right, but they should have told me prices!

  “Uh… how l-long?”

  I dig my nails into my skin. The disgusting man looks me over one more time, not making any attempt to be subtle about it.

  “Three hours.”

  This is the disgusting point where I have to tell someone what my body is worth in hopes that the price I list isn’t low or high enough to get me or my friend killed. I wish it were just my body we were putting a price on.

  It’s my soul I’m truly scared I’m about to sell.

  “$500.”

  I don’t know where the number comes from, but it’s what pops into my mind first. I’m worth more. I know I’m worth more, but that’s the number my intuition tells me to say, so I go with it.

  The man grunts.

  “$400.”

  “Five or move along.”

  What the fuck am I doing?

  “Fine. Get in.”

  White.

  Everything goes white. I stutter and trip over my foot as I stumble back. I can’t. No. No. A car horn blaring snaps me out of my panic. I look up to see Z staring daggers into me.

  His lips move, mouthing the words, ‘get in the fucking car.’

  I go numb, slowly moving one foot in front of the other. I could run. I could turn and run again. But he’s in the car. A car is faster than foot. Then there’s Amy. Plus, my eyes and throat still burn from the mop water. Not to mention, I’m far too weak to be fast. I need food and I need water.

  While all of this is running through my head, I realize my hand is on the door handle and I’m pulling. I can’t explain everything coursing through me as I plop down onto the rusty leather. What happens after this? Can I run from his place? Z never said where to meet him when I’m done!

  That takes away some of the horror and replaces it with hope. I’m buzzing in my seat as the man drives off. This is my chance!

  I don’t feel his hand slide up my thigh and rub my inner thigh. Freedom.

  I don’t hear him degrade me with his words and threats. Freedom.

  I don’t let his actions seep into my soul, because motherfucking freedom!

  … Then we pull up to a rusty apartment complex. He takes my arm and drags me inside. As I’m hauled up the creaky stairs, I start begging.

  “Sir, please. I’m here against my will.” I’m speaking so fast, I’m stumbling over my words. “I was kidnapped. I don’t want to be here. Please let me call my dad. He’ll pay you. My dad, he’s rich. He’s really rich…”

  When his clear blue eyes land on me, I know instantly something’s not right. The hope I felt dies fast.

  I’m kicked (literally) inside the motel room. I trip to the floor, where I’m met with the smell of sex and piss.

  “Mistake, bitch.” He shakes his head. “Big fucking mistake.”

  Two seconds later, Z comes in the door.

  My heart drops as fear crawls its way through my body.

  “She talk?”

  “First chance she got,” he affirms, in a raspy, disgusting voice.

  Oh my God, he works for them!

  I’m gonna die. They’re gonna kill me. Tears pool in my eyes, making it impossible to see.

  “Please,” I whimper. “I didn’t…”

  “Save it,” Z snaps as he approaches me. “Richie had it right, slut. Big fucking mistake.”

  Those are the last words said before I endure the worst beating of my life. A beating worse than anything I could ever imagine. Preceded by a brutal rape.

  More importantly in all this though, is that this is the beginning of them breaking me. This the start of Sage Briar-Rose disappearing forever.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Fix her up,” Z grunts as he jams a needle in my arm and kicks me inside. I can’t see anything. I’m half-conscious. Fully drugged. Emotionally… dead.

  Thwack!

  My body slams onto the floor lifelessly.

  “Sage!” I hear Pamela cry.
I hear footsteps padding up to me before a hand ever so gingerly touches my hair.

  I can feel Pamela’s anger radiating off of her, but she can’t say anything. My eyes flutter as a groan slips through my lips.

  “Z…” Pamela growls, voice on the edge of full rage.

  “Pam…” I whisper, even though it hurts immensely. “No.”

  A whimper escapes her lips as Z snickers.

  “Fix her fast or she ain’t worth keeping,” he warns Pamela. That’s all he says before his footsteps echo silently as he storms away.

  “Oh my God, Sage!”

  “I’m—”

  “No, shhh, don’t talk,” Pamela cries. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She immediately starts fully sobbing as she frantically flutters around, wondering how to help me.

  “Okay, I’ll fix this. I’ll… I’ll fix it.”

  Another sob bursts out of her as she stuffs something soft into my arms. I haven’t moved from my spot on the floor. The pain is dulled by the drugs, but it’s still there.

  “That’s my hippo. My mom gave her to me before she died. She’s special. I had her when I came here, and for some reason they never took her from me. I hold her every time it’s hard. She keeps the nightmares away, and…” She leans into my ear. “She’s my secret. She keeps Pamela here when she really wants to go away.”

  I have no strength to squeeze the small animal, but I imagine I can feel my arms hold it tighter.

  “We have to get you off the floor.”

  She’s trying to cry quietly now, but I still hear her. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I’m just grateful for the drugs and this tiny hippo. It’s so soft. Maybe the hippo will help me keep Sage like it helps Pamela stay in her body.

  “Can I do that, hun?”

  Stop asking me questions. I don’t want to answer them. I appreciate her love, but I just want to be alone on the floor. That’s all I’m good for anymore, anyway.

  “Sage…” she whispers.

  I want to snap at her. I am snapping at her in my head, but I’m not capable of doing it out loud.

  “Okay,” I groan. She comes over and slips a hand under my arm. When she starts to lift, pain shoots through every inch of my body. I let out a pained moan.