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He’s my captor. I still have no idea why I’m here, other than someone saw me and wanted me. But at least he feeds me. He brought me something to read. But now he’s come empty-handed.
Then he does something he’s never done. He sits down on my bed and turns to me. “I’m supposed to start something today,” he says.
“Start taking me home?” I ask, my voice eager.
He shakes his head. “No.”
Not that I thought that was the case. “What then?”
His face is stiff. “Your training.”
“Training for what?” I gulp, my heart racing.
“I’m not exactly sure,” he says. “But the training won’t be pleasant.”
“Please…” My voice shakes.
He’s quiet for a moment, and he doesn’t look at me. “You’re my first,” he finally says.
Shivers of panic ripple through me. “What do you mean?”
He closes his eyes for a second before continuing. “I mean… I haven’t done this before. I’m new at this position.”
I summon my courage. “The position of kidnapping young women? Holding them prisoner?”
His eyes glare behind the mask.
But I glare right back at him. If he were feeling okay about what he had to do, he wouldn’t have told me. He’d have just done it. “Tell me what you’re going to do,” I challenge.
“I’m supposed to break you.” He buries his face in his hands.
Break me?
He’s supposed to break me?
I nearly laugh.
I’ve got news for him.
You can’t break what’s already broken.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I was thirteen when Big Tammy raped me. I don’t know what she used. A broom handle maybe, if she got her hands on one. Maybe just her fingers and hand. I had just had a birthday, and ironically, Big Tammy’s birthday was the next day—the day she’d be released from the system and forced out into the world.
I’d been looking forward to that day for so long. With Big Tammy gone, perhaps her minions would chill out a little.
But tonight, the same minions dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night. The other girls must have heard my screams, but they stayed in bed, their own eyes squeezed shut.
I didn’t blame them. If they interfered, they and I both knew what would happen to them.
But even I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
The big girls dragged me to the end of the room, pulled my pajama pants off, and spread my legs.
I remember how cold the floor felt against my bare bottom and legs. I remember the slight breeze that creeped into the corners of my body that were never normally so exposed. I remember the fear clouding my brain, my vision blurring, my voice catching in my throat as I attempted to call for help that I knew wouldn’t come.
But that’s where the memories get less clear. I don’t remember what happened much after they slipped my pajamas off until I woke up to a searing pain between my legs surrounded by a puddle of my own blood.
