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His eyes flicked from her back to the direction of the boys.
“You’ll be all right, come on,” he said, then he was tugging her up and out of her car. Violet clutched the steering wheel and screamed, kicked, and shoved at him. The blows bounced off him like rain. She was shaking by the time he’d wrestled her out of the car. She struggled once on her feet but mostly held up by his arm around her waist.
“Let me go,” she hissed at him, shoving uselessly while she took in Jason and his friends, who were waiting sheepishly back where the man had found them. Her limbs felt too soft, heavy with exhaustion.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he dragged her back to them. It didn’t matter that she dug in her heels; they just left tracks in the dirt and kept moving still.
“I’ll help you get her back,” was all he said.
The smile Jason gave her chilled Violet to the bone, and she couldn’t find it within herself to return it and bluff and bluster and promise herself this would be fine. Her stomach was hollow, and she was shivering, being dragged along like a limp rag doll by this behemoth and trying not to let what Jason had said terrify her.
“My own little whore…after I breed you and let all my buddies on you too.”
“Help me.” She breathed it out, panic hot and urgent in her chest. “There’s no way they’re getting away with this. My dad’s the fucking mayor. Half of Frankston’s already looking for me. Help me, and I’ll make sure they know you weren’t involved.”
He just kept walking, eyes on the group of boys who walked ahead.
“Whatever you want: money, a medal, or whatever. But you’ve got to help me. I don’t know these guys.”
Violet struggled to turn enough to look up at him while he was still towing her along, searching his face for a sign of understanding, compassion, anything. He only appeared resigned. Their eyes met for a long moment, and it made the panic in her chest flip. He looked away, and she sagged, then rallied, and sucked in a big breath to scream.
“Don’t.” His hand was calloused over her mouth, his voice low and rough in her ear. “No one out here who can help.”
Her racing heart demanded she try, but finally, self-preservation told her to nod, lest he beat her like they had or turn on her. For now, he seemed her best shot at escape.
They trudged on in the quiet.
“Surprised you want a mate, Jason,” he said, and the rumble of his voice shocked Violet. “Been making good money at Mack’s? Doctor’s gonna need to see her. She’ll need clothes, shoes, and probably need a car eventually. Full moon next week, you’ll have a kid by winter solstice.”
It made no sense. He sounded jovial. She watched Jason look between his friends and her, suddenly gray-faced and sheepish.
“Probably sell that bike of yours and cover half of it,” the man continued, and Jason looked flat-out ill.
“Well, actually, I—I thought I wanted her, but she’s crazy.” The cruel smile peeked through again, and Violet’s stomach dropped. “I think I’m just going to pass on her at the ceremony.”
The man onlyhmmed in response.
Around them, the trees were thinning. She noticed the sand under their feet turning compacted and into a well-worn path. Then, they were heading for lights, lots of lights.A town,she realized, relief washing over her. A town with people, sane people who would help get her the hell out of there.
They stepped up onto a road, an honest-to-god road with a sidewalk and white lines, and she scanned desperately for signs of life. The sun was just beginning to light the horizon gold, and surely someone would be around.
“Help!” The word ripped out of her at the first sign of movement, raw, loud, and desperate.
She didn’t get to draw a second breath before the man’s hand was back over her mouth. Violet thrashed and struggled, but the figure who had looked up for a moment, a woman she thought, got into the car she’d been walking to like nothing was wrong.
His hand stayed loosely over her mouth after that, and Violet struggled to breathe through just her nose against his skin that smelled like pine and wood shavings, while her heart raced.
When they turned off the street and stepped inside a building, ornate in red brick with marble planters, the hope Violet thought she should feel was dwindling. Something about the town was wrong—the woman who’d simply driven away and how casually they dragged her through the streets without attracting attention had her convinced of it.
The lobby reminded her of an expensive hotel chain her father favored—high ceilings and marble floors with furniture made in lavish walnut. They made their way to the desk where a clerk sat, dressed in standard office attire. Violet flashed her eyes desperately when the woman looked up.
“Good morning, what can I help you with today?” she asked.
“I need a uh—” Jason scratched the back of his head.
“Claiming ceremony,” the man who held her informed the clerk gruffly.
“Absolutely,” the woman replied with a customer service smile. “For yourself, Mr. Davis?”
