***
He walks us up the stone steps of his New York mansion. It feels like a lifetime ago that Celia and I ran down these steps in the dark and out to the road for our escape, so full of hope. But it’s only been seven months.
I want to ask him about Celia, but he uses anyone that I care about against me. If she’s still alive, he’ll hurt her to hurt me. I can’t take that chance.
My heart drops as the door opens and a woman in a black dress, her hair pulled back in a severe bun stares at us. Not Celia. She’s younger, maybe early forties. I grip Rona tighter. The woman steps inside and holds the door open for us.
“Ah, Talula.” Michael looks at me, eyes glittering with masochistic glee. “Would you be a dear and take my daughter to her room. I’m sure she’s tired from the travel.”
Panicked wings beat inside my chest. “Please,” I choke out, staring at Michael. “Let her stay with me.”
His smile is cruel and sharp, a dagger slowly sliding into my heart. “You know why that’s not a good idea. She’ll be… happier with Talula.” The gleam in his eye is a promise of violence. He’s right, she shouldn’t see what he’s going to do to me.
I bend down and set her feet on the floor, then make her look at me. “You need to go with this nice lady for now. Mommy needs to run some errands, and I’ll see you later, okay?” I manage to keep the tears at bay, but my voice still breaks on the last words.
Rona’s eyes search mine with a tiny frown. “Stay with Mama.” She throws her arms around my neck.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Miss Talula will help you give Mermaid Barbie a bath. With bubbles.” I glare up at the woman. Her face is smooth, expressionless. I wonder if she knows what a monster she works for. Or if Michael fed her some line about me keeping his daughter from him. “Right, Miss Talula?”
Rona turns her head and glances up at the strange woman with a touch of fear.
“Right.” She nods. Then she holds out her hand. “Come along.”
I hold Rona’s face in my palms and press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” I whisper. “Go on. I’ll see you later.”
The woman grabs Rona’s hand and bag and leads her away, her heels echoing on the dark wood floors. I have a feelingthat sound will haunt my nightmares. My chest is a gaping wound as she leads my heart away.
Rona turns back to look at me one last time and waves uncertainly before they disappear around the corner.
As soon as they do, Michael grips my arm in a punishing hold and yanks me off the floor. “We have some business to attend to.”
His fingers dig into my flesh, and I stumble as he drags me down the hall and through double doors into a large office. My eyes immediately meet the man’s seated in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. He tucks his phone into his suit jacket pocket and stands.
His smile is oily and cunning as his gaze rakes over my body.
Oh my God. Is Michael selling me to this man? If so, I’ll never see Rona again. I won’t be able to protect her. I force myself to take deep, even breaths as the panic threatens to close my throat.
Michael shakes the man’s hand. “Mr. Gorka, good of you to come on such short notice.” He drags me in front of the second leather chair and pushes me down. “Sit.”
Okay, I guess we’re not playing happy couple in front of this man. That’s not good news for me. I glare at the man as he lowers himself back in the other chair. “Who are you?”
He folds his fingers together and tilts his head. “Richard Gorka. I’m… a broker. And you are?”
“Her name’s not important,” Michael interrupts. He’s taken a seat behind his desk and opens a folder. Lifting a sheet of paper from the folder, he holds it out to me. “I’m going topresent you with two choices. This is the first one.” He motions impatiently for me to take the paper.
I push myself up, slip the paper from his fingers and sit back down. I brace myself because I know Michael, neither choice is going to be a good one. My brows press down in confusion for just a moment as I read the list and try to figure out what it has to do with me. Until I see it.
“Two-year-old female. Liver. Kidneys. Heart.”
A scream lodges itself behind my clenched teeth. My insides begin to tremble. This is a black-market organ list, and Rona is on it. I glance at Mr. Gorka. He’s watching me with curiosity. The truth hits me like a gut punch. He’s an organ broker.
My eyes narrow and it takes all my strength not to spit on the man. I feel like I’m moving underwater as I stand and throw the paper back on Michael’s desk.
One side of his mouth is quirked in a simulation of a smile. His eyes are black pools of malice. “No?” he asks almost seductively.
I cross my arms. “Over my dead body.”
He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and eyes me like he’s imagining all the ways to make that happen. Then he leans forward and picks up a second sheet of paper. “Then you’ll want option number two.”
