“Are ye ready fer this?” Monster asks when he stops in front of me.
Noddin’, I say, “Aye. Never been more ready fer anythin’ in my whole life.” It’s the truth. I want my girl now, and I want her safe.
“And ye remember what I told ye. Don’t play the feckin’ hero. Things will work out. We’ll get her out of there. It’s not long to go before we reach that compound and I’m not sure what we’re goin’ta find.”
“I don’t want to think what’s in there,” I say. “The girls may not even know what’s goin’ on. From what I can tell, these arseholes are violent, they have no qualms about hurtin’ those theyown,” I spit the word as if it’s poison on my tongue.
“I’m goin’ta enjoy hurtin’ them,” Sully says from beside me, with a sinister grin curlin’ his lips. “Nothin’ like makin’ a bastard pay for his sins.”
“Now that sounds like fun,” Rev adds, his voice filled with rage.
The man may be a chaplain, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like gettin’ his hands dirty. I’ve been a witness to a few criminals who’ve been questioned by him. We’ve each had our time in the warehouse. Monster believes that no one person runs the club, even though he’s the President. He’s always made us feel as if we’re equal, as if we all have a say in what goes on.
“Then let’s ride.” Monster heads back to his bike.
The rumble of the engines vibrate through me. My fingers grip the handlebars tight in a white-knuckle hold. I’m tense. My thoughts are with Einin. Monster is right. We don’t know what we’re ridin’ into. But I would enter hell and face the devil himself if it means savin’ her.
FOUR
EININ
By the timewe’re taken back to our rooms, I’ve overheard more information about the upcoming auction which is taking place tomorrow—Christmas day. I didn’t want to believe it, but they’ve confirmed there’ll be new girls brought in. I’m still curious why the twins are here. Most of the homes I’ve been in over the years have only ever had young women.
The room is chilly tonight, and I slip under the covers, knowing that soon the bedroom door will be locked. We’re kept like pets, but even if we were to get out of our rooms, there are so many guards around, there’s no chance of escape. I’ve heard whispers about those who try. They don’t make it out of the dungeon, which sits under the house.
Ice trickles down my spine when I consider this. I’ve experienced horrors before. When I think about all the times I was chained, beaten, and forced to do things with men, I realise nothing could scare me again. At least, that’s what I think.
But these men are a different kind of human. If they’re human at all. I wonder if the Devil walks amongst us and he’s recruited them. An army of evil, walking the earth.
Curling into a ball, I bring my knees to my chest and close my eyes. When I wake tomorrow, I’m pretty sure any gifts I find will come at a price. Nothing in life is free, not in our lives.
For so long, I prayed for a miracle. Ma always told me God would be there when I needed him most, but it’s all a lie. I’ve prayed to an entity that doesn’t exist. At least, my belief has diminished over the years. And now, it’s died. I no longer pray. I no longer ask for someone to save me, because I realise nobody is listening.
As much as I wished Tye would look for me, I’m sure he’s moved on by now. It’s been so long, I doubt he even thinks of me. I couldn’t keep in contact with him like I promised. He probably thinks I’ve moved on, that I’ve forgotten about him. But all these years, I replay that kiss in my mind. It’s the only time I feel happy when I remember how his body felt against me. His lips tasted like sweets and his touch burned me like a fire raging through a forest.
I always teased him, telling him he was like the sun, scorching everything that got too close. And I got burned. I never admitted my feelings to him. I couldn’t, because I wanted him to make the first move if he wanted to. When he kissed me, I thought he would ask me to stay, or he’d tell me he was coming with me. That he’d follow.
But he never did.
Maybe it was his da, perhaps it was his choice, but I lost the connection when I was taken. I think now about what-ifs that no longer help my mindset. They only seem to drag me deeper into the darkness, and I am losing the will to escape.
The last time I truly fought was last year. Before I finally allowed myself to forget about ever finding freedom. I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to die in the room the old captor kept me in.
I was bound in a bedroom with no window, he had stripped me bare. I would shiver in the cold, and when the men entered, the space became drenched in darkness and draped in violence.
“She’s a pretty one,”one man says. I’m not sure how many there are because I’m blindfolded, but I know for certainheis here. My captor. The man who bought me is filled with evil. More than I want to consider. It’s in his eyes. Like flames dancing in the darkness. When he glares at me, I see it. There’s a devil inside him that’s awake and hungry.
“She’s one of my best. I only got her a year ago,” my captor says in his thick American accent. “She was too much for her old owner, but now that she’s here, I’ve enjoyed making her cry and scream. But she hasn’t lost her fire. Anything you want to do, you can. She fights beautifully as well.”
“Mmm, it seems you’ve struck gold, Savage,” another man utters beside me. He’s so close to my left ear, I can taste the alcohol on his breath as it wafts over my face. “I think we should take her to your place.”
“No,” my captor, Savage, says. His name aptly fits him. The man is a brute. I’ve been kept in a cell, in a dungeon, since he purchased me. I didn’t think I’d been flown all the way to America, but all of them have a similar accent. “My sons have their own toys to play with,” he says to his guests. “This one,” he murmurs as he touches my chin and I realise he’s right in front of me. “Is mine.” His presence hovers over me like a dark, stormy cloud. The warmth of his body makes me recoil, which only causes the men to laugh out loud.
I can’t go very far. My ankles are bound and so are my wrists. I’m nothing more than a toy for them to play with. The scars are both physical and emotional, and I doubt they’ll ever heal.
“I think we need to get this party started,” one of the men speaks. “Soon enough, they’ll want to start the damn auction.”
“We can, but she needs to be in good condition. No bruises and cuts,” my captor warns, his voice dark, dangerous even.