He put my comfort first, and never did anything against my will. Even with all the lies he told,Nashis the lesser of two evils.
I’d take his betrayal over this nightmare any day.
But he’s not here, and the longer I think, the more I wonder if the flashback I had in the woods was the answer he was looking for. Maybe he didn’t care about whatever Darius wants. Maybe he has what he needs...
Now that he does I’m useless to him.
Still, a small, naïve part of me hopes he’ll find me. That he won’t let me die here. That the weeks we spent together meant something to him—to the criminal he really is, not just Nash.
“Let them in,” Darius says over his shoulder.
Another man barks an order in a foreign language, his words starting a commotion behind the wall. The chatter dies down and girls no older than me pour into the bathroom, all naked and holding towels as they beeline for the showers.
I openly stare, the toothbrush hanging from my lips, brows hitting my hairline. They’re all slender, some so skinny their bones are showing. Most look unaffected by their predicament, as if they expected this all along. Only one fearfully glances around, eyes darting away as they reach Darius.
“Fuck, I love shipment days.” Jax grins, following the last girl, his big hand cupping his crotch. “Look at all that pussy.”
Darius nods, showing off a row of white teeth as he rakes his filthy gaze over the soaped-up girls.
“Hurry up,” he snaps at me, adjusting his dick in his pants.
He and Jax watch the girls like they can’t wait to sink their teeth—or cocks—in them but there’s a particularly disturbing flavor of desire shining in Darius’s eyes when he scans my tear-stained face.
He gets off on fear and helplessness.
Instantly, as if itwill save me, I swipe my tears into a mask of indifference. I spit out the toothpaste, swallow a handful of water, and drop the toothbrush in the holder.
I don’t know whose toothbrush it is, how many have used it before me, or how many will use it after.
That’s the least of my problems.
Once I step away from the sink, Darius grabs my elbow again, digging his fingers into a tender spot between the bones. Blinding pain soars through my system when he finds a nerve, but I keep my expression neutral.
He’s not getting my tears. He’s not getting my tears. It’s a shitty defense technique, but I don’t have much else and I need to do something...anythingtofeel like I’m fighting.
He drags me into the room where there are more naked girls awaiting their turn in the bathroom. I’m shoved onto the bed with number one hanging at its foot.
“Wait here until they’re all ready,” Darius instructs.
He moves away, taking a firm stance by the door. Three other men are strategically placed, dicks tenting their pants.
Sweeping a look over the girls, I spot a mane of shimmering washed-purple hair. Everyone else is either blonde or brunette, so this girl stands out like a beacon. She’s younger than most here, maybe my age, maybe not even that, and she’s the undeniable center of attention, all the men’s gazes trained on her.
No wonder.
She’s gorgeous. It’s not every day you meet someone with albinism. Her complexion is so pale it makes her look ethereal,and as she turns, I’m mesmerized by her white eyebrows, white eyelashes... and striking eyes, their color matching her violet hair.
She catches me staring, a scared but reassuring smile curving her lips. Mustering the little light left inside me, I smile back, then quickly drop my gaze to my fingers, picking a loose thread of my pink negligee.
I can’t make out the words from the hum of whispered chatter. I don’t recognize the language. Not until Jax barks another clipped sentence. I think it’s Russian.
Another ten girls enter the bathroom when the first group leaves. It takes fifteen minutes before all thirty of us sit on the beds and more men come in, lining the wall while Jax takes center stage, reciting a short monologue.
The atmosphere shifts from seemingly relaxed to tense, and one girl bolts up, pointing a finger at him. Her voice grows higher with her every word, face pink and enraged, hands flying every which way.
The exchange is short, clipped, and, from what I gather, pointless. It ends abruptly when Jax sneers, backhanding her so hard he splits her lip. His smile stretches as he straightens his back, watching more girls join the row, their words sounding like protests.
“Finally, a batch of fighters,” Darius beams. “It’s been a while. Round them up, boys.” He twirls his finger in the air, pushing away from the door and highballing straight toward me.
