And why do I feel betrayed? Austin never gave me any reason to think that he would be loyal to me.
Two men walk into the room from the same direction my brother came from and fear washes over me. Both of them are in expensive suits and look like they have money, from their perfect haircuts to the rings on their fingers.
One of them moves to stand between my legs and panic seizes my spine. His his head tilts to the side a little before his eyes roam over my body and land between my legs, I clench my teeth to keep them from chattering.
“Hmmm, very nice.” He puts his hands on my knees and slides them down my thighs, the tears I was holding back before start to slide down my temples into my hair.
He puts something on his fingers and his thumbs spread me open, I squeeze my eyes closed, my heart is beating so hard that it feels like it is trying to break free of my chest. When his thumb slides across my intimate parts my knees try to snap closed, but my lower legs are strapped to the stirrups.
I think I might throw up.
The tears fall more freely when I feel his fingers breach my opening, “Shame, not a virgin.”
“No shit, Sherlock. She’s probably about twenty-four, she’s been around the block already. Get her ready so we can get out of here, I hate this fucking house.” The voice of the guy standing next to me sounds like the guy my brother was talking to.
“Give me a minute to test the merchandise, I’ll meet you up top.” The guy between my legs still has his fingers inside of me as he rotates them while moving them in and out, I hear his belt pull from the buckle and I choke down the sob of disgust that is trying to break free.
I try to imagine that I am anywhere but here. I hear my mom’s voice in my head,you are strong and you are smart, hang on to that and you will always go far my beautiful girl.
“We don’t have time for that, we have to meet Thumbs to get the other girls.”
“It’ll take less than five minutes, she feels so tight that it won’t take me long.” He keeps slowly pumping his fingers in me.
“No, get her dressed, and let’s go.”
Footsteps move across the room to the steps and and loudly scrape on the stairs before they go silent.
“Fuck man, you’re such a fucking stick in the mud.” He pulls his hands back unstrapping my ankles and then moves to the one around my waist. “You kick me when I free your leg, and I’ll break your fucking fingers.” He snaps.
I open my eyes as I sit up and watch him move around me, freeing the other straps, and then he grabs a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved top from the counter and throws them at me, “Put those on.”
Turning away from him, I slip off the table and try to keep my back to him just to hold onto any sense of dignity. The shaking in my arms and fingers makes it hard to hold the pants to step into them, not to mention the shaking in my legs forcing me to lean against the metal table.
Loud buzzing comes from the pocket of his pants and he turns to the side to take the call. I take advantage of the few minutes of freedom to look around the room and see a pair of scissors next to my cut-up sundress on the counter.
Angry yelling from the person on the other line is making him pace and he starts to raise his voice, I don’t even know what he is saying over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears as I work up the courage to grab the scissors.
Picking up the shirt he threw at me, I pull it over my head and swing my arm wide as I grab the pair of scissors off the counter and stash them in the waistband of my sweatpants.
Do I have it in me to stab someone.
With a growl, he ends the call and slides the phone in his pocket before he turns to me, “You done? Let’s go.” He grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward the door.
My purse. I look over my shoulder at my purse and my dress lying on the counter as he pulls me. My phone, wallet, keys, everything, is on that counter. I almost trip on a step as we go through the door, forcing me to watch where I’m walking.
He pulls me up a narrow set of stairs into a really old kitchen that smells like rotten food. The sink is full of dishes and the floor creaks under our feet as we walk, the bottoms of my feet stick to the floor and for some reason, amid everything that is happening, my mind is worried about what kind of filth I’m stepping in.
The sun is starting to set outside, and a black SUV is parked at the curb, the back door open. If they get me into that car, it’s over, I’ll be stuck. My heart is already beating so hard that I can feel it rattling my ribs, all sounds around me fade and time slows as I slide my hand under the t-shirt I’m wearing and grasp the handle of the scissors.
There are no other men around, the other guy must already be in the car. Just as we are steps away from the opendoor, I pull the scissors out and swing my arm, sinking the sharp blades into the skin where his shoulder meets his neck.
“Fucking bitch!” He grinds between clenched teeth and lets go of my arm to grab my hand.
I push again as hard as I can, and blood starts to run down my arm before I let go and step away. A mumbled ‘fuck’ comes through the open door of the car, and I turn to run.
The sidewalk is still hot, and my bare feet are slapping hard against the concrete with each footfall, I’ve never run so hard and fast in my life. I don’t know where I’m going, but I have to get as far away from them as I can.
CHAPTER TWO
