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Sloane
My eyes fly open, and I sit up straight with a loud gasp. The skin around my mouth stings like a bitch, and I wince as my fingers lightly graze the area. With a thumping heart, I clutch the bedsheet in my fists, my head twisting left and right to take in my surroundings. It’s dark and eerily quiet, wherever the hell I am right now. I can barely make out any shapes in the room, and my eyes adjust to the tiny sliver of light creeping under the closed door.
I’m alone.
At least, I think I am.
It wasn’t a horrible nightmare after all.
A sob catches in my throat, but I’m too scared to let it out.
It’s…reality.
Jules! Where is Jules?
I rub my temples, trying to remember how I even got here. The truck. The knife. Gianni. The girl from Max’s house. Jules…Jules…Jules…she’d been drugged. Jesus, she was barely conscious when they let me see her. They had her phone. Lured me out of my house. But why? What are they doing with her? With me?
My head is full of cobwebs, and I’m trying to piece everything together through the murk, but damn, the throbbing between my ears won’t quit. The bedsheet falls from my hands, and a chill assaults my bare skin. My hands fly to my breasts. Holy shit, I’m naked!
Where the hell are my clothes?
Did someone—? Was I—?
Oh, my God, oh, my God…
My breath hitches, and I grab the sheet, covering myself to keep my teeth from chattering. Deep breaths, Sloane. Deep breaths. Stay calm.
I swallow hard, gathering the sheet around me, and tiptoe toward the door. I fall to my knees to listen to any sound coming from outside this room. There’s some distant mumbling, but nothing I can make out clearly.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I blink fast to make sure they don’t dare fall. Crying isn’t going to help me right now. I need to find my clothes, I need to make a plan, and I need to get the hell out of here!
I crawl along the thin carpet, peering around in the darkness for anything I can use as a weapon. There’s a dank, musty smell coming up from the floor, and something tells me that if the lights were on, I might not be so anxious to slither around down here. Something skitters over my leg, and I jump to my feet, launching myself back onto the bed. Good thing I remembered to slap a hand over my mouth before the bloodcurdling screech exploded.
“Well, how are you going to get him here if he doesn’t even know where to look? Someone has to make the call!” A loud, female voice shouts from outside the door.
A startled gasp escapes my mouth. That voice…it sounds so familiar…
“Shut the fuck up, Layla! Don’t tell me how to run my business!” Gianni’s deep voice rumbles through me and my stomach rolls, recalling his lecherous leer the night of the benefit. Bile rises in my throat. Is he the one who undressed me? Did he—?
I clap a hand over my mouth again to keep from gagging. I don’t even want to let the thought percolate.
“You wanted my help! That’s why you came to me…because you knew I could help you get to Max. If you don’t let me do this my way, this whole thing is going to blow up in all of our faces!”
I huddle with the sheet, shaking. There’s a lot of banging and shouting. A glass shatters against a wall.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!”
“Gianni!” Another commanding, male voice, this one unfamiliar, pierces the air. “Cut it the fuck out! Let her make the call! I know you have some fucking hard-on for this chick, but I don’t really give a shit. The buyers are coming, and we need to get these girls ready.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that, Mikey! I’ll fucking slice your throat!”
“Oh, really?” Mikey’s voice drops. His tone is menacing, daring Gianni to challenge him. He’s the one who jumped Max….
Max! Why are they trying to get him here? Layla…she’s the girl from his house. From the truck. But I thought she had a thing for him? They’re supposed to be friends…why is she here with these guys? His enemies?
I grip the sides of my head and shake back and forth on the bed. No windows, locked door, no clothes…
Fucking psychopaths getting who ready for what?
