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It’s impossible, but something in my gut says it’s real. It feels recent.
It comes back to me like pieces of a dream in the early morning—more feelings than images. I was with Zach, I’m sure of it, but where?
He… He left. We said goodbye.
Were we still at the bar? I don’t think so, but I can’t recall where we were. I remember the smell of him. It made me feel safe. Made me miss him.
Where was Blake?
There was another man. Someone else who came up to me…
I can’t picture his face. It’s a blur. He handed me something. A jacket. Was it a jacket?
It wasn’t mine.
The memory gets fuzzier.
Suddenly, the voices are right next to me. Someone whispers in my ear.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
MAE
The bag is ripped off my head so quickly it’s jarring. My neck throbs from the force of it, and I wince. The room is large and dark. Damp. There are a few lights hanging from the ceiling, swaying with the ocean as we move.
A man grabs my arm and pulls me into a sitting position. I’m so sore under his touch, I’m sure this isn’t the first time it’s happened. What else have I forgotten?
There are four of them. They’re unfamiliar to me, their faces marred by the shadows in the room.
“Well, well, well… Look who’s awake,” the first man says, glaring at me as he clicks his tongue.
“Pretty girl,” the second purrs. He’s got long, dark hair that hangs down near his shoulders. The first one is a clean-cut blond.
I scoot back farther from them, unsure if I should speak. If I try to start asking questions, I’m scared I won’t be able to talk.
A third man bends down next to me and unscrews the top off a bottle of water. “Drink,” he says firmly, his upper lip stiff and unmoving. A heavy accent slurs the word.
I shake my head, trying to refuse, though my throat has practically collapsed from thirst. He grips my chin, squeezing tightly, and dumps the water onto my lips. I hate myself for lapping it up the second I taste it.
Behind him, the rest of the men laugh.
I try to pull back, to catch my breath, but he has a firm grip on me. He doesn’t stop pouring, and I start to panic. I suck in a desperate breath and water burns my nose. I sputter. I’m going to drown. I can’t breathe. I pull back harder and he jerks away, stepping into line. I gasp, coughing up the water from my lungs. They watch in delight as if I’m a television show meant only for them to enjoy.
The second man steps forward, tracing a finger down the line of dampness on my shirt. His long fingernail scrapes my skin through the fabric. He chuckles. “You need help taking this off?”
I jerk away, but he seems unfazed. The first man swats the back of his head and says something in the language I heard them speaking earlier. Something unspoken goes on between them, but the man doesn’t move.
“We’re just having fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?” the man asks with a wink. He’s so close to me I can smell what reeks of soured milk on his breath. He reaches forward, grabbing my breast so hard I cry out.
I fall back, struggling to get away from him, but it’s no use. The men watch it happen but do nothing to stop it. It’s only then that I realize my hands are tied behind my back.
I gasp as the bag goes over my head again.
Then my mind goes fuzzy and I’m gone.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
MAE
