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“I hate you,” I shouted the words, and his grip tightened.
“I know,” his voice was steady and composed as if he was unaffected by my words. “But fear must override your hate. Remember what I taught you? You can’t have that here.”
What he taught me? The self-defence? What did …?And then it hit me—he’d wanted my anger when he’d been teaching me to fight. After Logan reluctantly agreed to be my teacher, he took my fear and turned it into a controlled anger. He gave me confidence to fight back, and now … now he wanted the fear back?
“You will fear me, Emily. And if you don’t … I will make you.” His words were abrupt and unruffled. It sent shivers down my spine.
Did I fear him? Yes. I was scared of who he’d become, of what he was, and of that cold, emotionless face I thought I once knew. I was scared of how my body still reacted to him. How it betrayed me. And yes, I was scared that he’d give me to Raul. Because Raul I feared the most, and I was uncertain if I could survive him.
“This is his business. Raul kidnaps girls, women. They are trained then auctioned off. They bring him lots of money. You would bring him lots of money.”
“Kat and Matt—”
“You’re twenty, old enough to disappear. Raul made you disappear. One more girl missing won’t bring the law down to Mexico looking for you, especially with a mother who doesn’t give a shit about her daughter.”
That hurt, but was unfortunately true. My heart rate picked up, and I licked my dry, cracked lips. Kat and Matt wouldn’t give up on me. They’d come for me; they had to.
He took my wrists and tied what felt like rope around them. I start to hyperventilate, afraid of what he’d do, scared of being so vulnerable. “I do.”
“You do what, Emily?”
“I do fear you.”
Silence as he continued to tighten the ropes. All I could hear was the coarse nylon as it moved back and forth from whatever he was doing to it after he tied it to my wrists. Suddenly, he let me go, and I heard his footsteps stride away like he was angry. Then a door slammed in the opposite direction of where we entered the room.
I fell to my knees, my wrists tied together, and my skin cold and clammy and … dirty. I felt so dirty inside and out. I’d been in the same clothes for days, no shower, little food.
The door opened again.
Footsteps. He stopped in front of me. “There are rules you have to follow. Kneel when someone enters the room. Never speak unless spoken to. Keep your head down, and if you want to live then you will submit to me.” He grabbed my wrists, pulled me to my feet, and raised my arms above my head. I felt something snag on the rope.
He let me go.
I yanked and realized he’d tied me to something above me. I tugged harder, but I couldn’t get free. Panic crawled over my skin.
His knuckles brushed over my neck, and then I felt the tug on the neckline of my shirt. With one yank he tore my shirt from my body.
I begged Logan in my mind. Begged and screamed to let me go, but I never emitted a sound. I took several deep breaths, knowing to fight would only prolong whatever he was going to do to me.
His hands undid my jeans, and he dragged them off as well; then my panties followed. I hung naked, quivering, and blinded. The degradation was so powerful that I wanted to curl up in a tomb and die.
He cupped my chin. It was soft and kind as if he was trying to give me some kind of reassurance. “It’s in you. I saw the strength,” Logan whispered. He ran his finger down my cheek then across my lips. “You need to be the lion here, Eme.”
I choked back the sob in my throat at the sound of his voice, the one I had known and loved. The coldness had dissipated, and my mind was screaming for him.
I heard the door creak open. “He is ready for you.”
Logan’s hand stiffened on me. “No screaming.”
I jumped at the tone of his cold voice.
He let me go, and I heard him stride across the room then abruptly turn and come back again. “Follow the rules. If you don’t … you will be lost to this world, and I can’t stop it.”
Maybe I want to be lost.
Yes. No. God, I just wanted to go back. My mind was so screwed up that I couldn’t think straight. I was clinging to a man that no longer existed … No, that was wrong. The man I knew had been a lie.
His breath drifted across my face, and then his hand was in my hair, pulling my head back. “Emily,” he breathed, saying my name like it meant something to him. “Don’t fail me.” His words were barely a whisper. If I could have seen him I’d have imagined those eyes, the ones that pulled me in day after day as he taught me how to fight, when he sang to me in the horse field, when he wiped ice cream off my chin. His sweet whispered words were in the voice I grew to love, the one that promised to protect me no matter what.
He promised never to hurt me. He promised.
“When I come back … remember the rules.”
I heard his steps fade away, then the door closed, and the lock turned.
Oh God, help me. Don’t leave me like this. Come back.
Three hours later
The blindfold was wet from my silent tears. I lost all the feeling in my hands from the ropes tied tight around my wrists. I prayed. For salvation. For death. For Logan to come back. I had nothing left inside. Nothing. The emptiness was like a vacant shell, hollow, alone without a single thought except the instinct to survive.
