Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
There was no way out.
Slumping to the floor, my burns against the wooden door, I thought of Cowboy, of what Juan would do to him. I thought of Hush, wondering if he was okay. And I thought of my brother, and what could have been the last conversation we ever had.
Only then did I let the tears fall.
*****
It was the next day before someone came into my room. I lay on the bed, my eyes fixed on the door so I would know the exact moment he came back for me. Because I knew he would. I was starving, thirsty, and I ached all over. Whatever his people had injected into me was messing with my muscles.
When the knob of the door turned, I pushed myself up and braced for Juan. A man I didn’t recognize stood in the doorway. “This way,” he ordered. He was big and intimidating—like most of Juan’s men. He was dressed in a black suit with a silver tie. I hesitated, enough for the man to narrow his eyes. “I won’t ask again. If you don’t move, I’ll come and move you myself.”
With shaking limbs, I stood from the bed. I felt like Bambi when I walked, my feet taking tentative steps as I made my way to the door. When I reached the man, he took hold of my arm and led me through hallways that brought back too many bad memories: of my first steps after the acid burn, the excruciating pain as my taut skin stretched with the movement of my legs, the night I fled from the house and into the woods that kept it hidden . . . running until Ky and Styx found me.
I prayed someone would find me now.
I was forced into a car. I wrapped my torn red dress around me. It was hot, but I was freezing as we drove, and drove, until the place I’d never wanted to see again swung into view.
My breathing quickened. My palms started sweating and my body shook. The man pulled us to a stop in front of a far building. Dozens of men were milling around. Truck after truck was leaving this fucked-up place. Nausea swirled in my stomach when I realized who would be in those trucks. And worse, where they would be going. Auctions, to sell them off to men and women, their new owners . . . people who could make them do anything they wished.
Bile rose into my throat as the last truck passed us. The place was quiet . . . eerily so. Once the gate was closed, the man Juan had sent to retrieve me got out of the car and came to my door. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me violently from the backseat. My bare feet hit the sandy dirt. I stumbled after the man as he pulled me through a building, down cold dank hallways, until we arrived at a door at the end.
He pounded on the door. Another faceless, nameless man opened it. I was handed over without ceremony. The new man led me further into the room, a single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. I squinted, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark . . . and I saw something. A chair, with a man sitting upon it.
My heart began racing so fast I was sure it would burst free from my chest. “No,” I whispered, taking in the beaten mess that slumped in the chair. A familiar plaid shirt torn into strips, revealing the lashes on his skin. His hat was missing, and his blond hair was tinged with red from the blood that I guessed had spattered from his face. His hands were tied behind his back, and his ankles were tied to the chair legs.
“Cowboy,” I whispered, my voice carrying on the stale air that clogged the small room.
He lifted his chin, slowly, as though the movement caused him too much pain. I cried out, sobbing when his eyes looked to me. They were bruised and swollen.
I needed to hold him.
I tried to pull away from the man, but he wrenched me back and slapped a hand across my face. My legs buckled, still weak from the kidnapping, dehydration, and the after-effects of the sedative.
Cowboy let out a vicious growl, his chair moving on the concrete floor. The man lifted me up and tied me to a chair opposite Cowboy. I kept my eyes on him, ignoring the throbbing of my cheek. Tears stung the skin, but I kept my eyes on Cowboy. Even as beaten and hurt as he was, Cowboy smiled as best he could and gave me a wink.
A single pained laugh escaped my lips, before I straightened my shoulders. I refused to let these assholes see me break. The man walked out, shutting the door, leaving me all alone with Cowboy. I checked no one else was around.