Page 79 of Recovering Ivy

“That was before I saw her puke her guts up from a tranquilizer. I figured she was a junkie like you. She’s fucking clean, Sarah. I need to put work into her. Ten or I walk.”

“Fine. Ten.”

“Let me say goodbye to Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes, then she’s all yours.”

The man chuckled. “I’ve never met a bitch as low down as you.”

“You’ve never complained before. Didn’t seem to matter when I was sucking your dick.”

God, I wished Zane was here. He wouldn’t let Sarah sell me. He would never let Lance put his hands on me. I wondered if he even knew Sarah had taken me.

“Yeah, well, I never said you didn’t give a great blowjob. I said you’re an underhanded cunt.”

The hair that had been covering the side of my face was brushed aside and I opened my eyes. Sarah was so close I could smell her foul breath even before she spoke.

“I warned you to mind your own business. I tried telling you you were no better than me. But did you listen? No. You always looked down your nose at me and caused trouble. Now, Lance is gonna teach you all the lessons I failed to teach.”

“Why?” I croaked out.

“Why not?”

What kind of mother did this to her child? This was low, even for Sarah.

“I tried to help you,” I cried. “I loved you.”

“I never wanted your help. Since the day you were born, you’ve been more trouble than you’re worth. I should’ve gotten rid of you while you were still in my stomach. Better late than never.”

Sarah backed away, and as grateful as I was for the fresh air, I didn’t want her to leave me alone with Lance. Not that she’d protect me from him, but the minute she left, I knew Lance would hurt me.

“You wanna hit before you leave? Something to take the edge off?” Lance offered.

I didn’t bother trying to move to look to see what they were doing. I heard the flick of a Zippo lighter and the smell of my childhood floated in the air. A few minutes later, the door opened, and I watched my mother walk out the door, black duffle bag in hand.

She’d done it. She sold me to her ex-husband. He was a pimp and dealer, a man I remembered well from my childhood.

“Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Lance started. “You were such a pretty little girl. And when you finally grew a pair of tits, my mouth would water thinking about how those mile-long legs would feel wrapped around my waist. Such a shame I had to wait so long to get my taste.”

My stomach churned again, and I thought I was going to throw up again.

“If I didn’t like my women feisty and able to fight back, I take what’s mine now. As soon as the benzo your mama gave you wears off, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. I’m gonna take your ass first. I bet a good girl like you has never taken dick up your ass before. You’re mama’s a stupid bitch. I would’ve paid twenty for you. I have clients lining up to get a piece of clean pussy.”

My eyes drifted closed and I knew this was the end of my life. I’d never recover. I almost welcomed more of what Sarah had given me. I needed to be numb.

As I laid in a dirty hotel room, my impending rape looming over me, I thought about Zane. All the things I wished I had told him. All the things I wished I had done differently. Even if he found me, I would be dirty - ruined. I hated this for me more than I hated it for myself. He didn’t deserve this.

29

Zane

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor. Sit down.” My head snapped to Linc, and I leveled him with a stare.

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” I growled.

The whole team, minus Colin and Jasmin, were around the conference room table. Each man had their tablets in front of them. A map of the area Ivy’s phone last pinged a tower was rolled out in the middle of the table, and Garrett and Tex were on the phone.

Goldsborough had been contacted and he confirmed Forester was locked in his cell and had no contact with anyone other than his attorney. Unfortunately, those meetings were not allowed to be recorded; however, Garrett had crawled up the attorney’s ass and he was clean. Squeaky clean. Word was he was unhappy he had to represent Forester in the first place. The man had three college-aged daughters and a son that had OD’d when he was a teenager. I was confident he wasn’t passing information in or out of lockup for Forester.

“Got something,” Garrett said. The seventy-two-inch monitor on the wall came to life and Garrett continued to click away on his keyboard. “You in?” he asked when he laid his cell phone on the table.