PROLOGUE 1
Mara Lennox sat in the cage on the dirty basement floor. She could hear her stepfather upstairs talking to people. Part of her ached to cry out. To draw attention to her captivity. But she knew that would only result in pain and torture for her. As it had before.
She heard a key in the door lock, quickly drawing in a breath. Was this someone coming down to help her or hurt her? She scooted as far back in the cage as she could go. It wasn't far. She'd grown almost too large for the cage as it was.
She watched as her stepfather came down the stairs with an older distinguished woman. The woman raised her nose and looked around as if even being in such a place was abhorrent to her. Then she spotted Mara in the cage.
"Dear God, Harry!" she whispered angrily. "A cage? Really?"
"The little bitch bites and kicks when I take her out. Hell, she even tried to knee me in the nuts and she shouldn't even know what those are!"
"Well of course she's going to act like an animal if you treat her like one," she snapped back. "I want her out of the cage now."
Harry's face went red. "You don't tell me what to do in my own house."
"This isn't a house. It's a prison." The woman turned her sharp gaze back to Mara. "How old is she?"
"Fifteen. Almost sixteen."
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "You've had her since she was what, eight?"
"Her mother married me when the girl was six. Then the stupid woman went and got herself killed in a car accident two years later. Left me stuck with this one."
Mara closed her eyes. She remembered her mother. Remembered the funeral. Remembered Harry's face changing the moment they got home from the cemetery. Like he'd been wearing a mask all along and finally took it off. That first night, when he'd come into her room, she'd thought he was checking on her. Being kind. She'd learned fast that Harry didn't do kind.
Seven years of learning what men like Harry wanted from girls who had no one to protect them. Seven years of a cage when she fought back too hard. Seven years of knowing that screaming just made it worse.
"Get her out," the woman said again. "I need to see her properly."
Harry cursed under his breath but pulled the key ring from his pocket. The cage door creaked open and Mara didn't move. She'd learned that lesson too. Wait. Let him make the first move. Don't give him a reason.
"Out," he barked.
She crawled forward slowly, her legs cramping as she unfolded herself from the cramped space. She'd been in there since yesterday morning. Or maybe the day before. Time blurred down here.
The woman walked closer, circling Mara like she was inspecting livestock. Mara kept her eyes down, her body tensed and ready to run even though there was nowhere to go.
"Stand up straight," the woman ordered, but her voice wasn't cruel. Just firm.
Mara obeyed, forcing her spine straight even though everything hurt.
"Look at me."
Mara lifted her eyes. The woman was probably in her fifties, with perfectly styled silver hair and expensive clothes. She didn't belong in this basement. Didn't belong in this house at all.
"What's your name?"
"Mara," she whispered. Her voice came out scratchy from disuse.
"Mara," the woman repeated. "That's a pretty name." She turned to Harry. "I'll take her."
Relief crashed through Mara so hard she almost collapsed. Someone was taking her away from here. Someone was going to help her. Maybe this woman knew what Harry had been doing. Maybe she'd go to the police. Maybe this nightmare was finally over.
"Fifty thousand," Harry said. "Cash only."
The woman didn't even blink. "Thirty. Look at the state of her. It's going to take weeks just to get her presentable again. And she's almost past prime age."
They haggled like Mara wasn't standing right there. Like she was a used car instead of a person. But she didn't care. Anything was better than staying here. Anything was better than that cage and Harry's visits in the middle of the night.
