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I wake up still in the dark closet, unsure of what time it is or how long I’ve been in this fucking place. I suspect it’s been a couple days, but I haven’t eaten a damn thing since I got thrown in here. All I have is a bottle of water someone left for me shortly after Tiny took those pictures. There’s been no conversations or real noise aside from the sounds of people partying below me, which I think means I must be in a house. Upstairs.
But where?
Footsteps sound just outside the door before it opens with such intensity I think it’s going to fly right off the hinges. I look up instantly, but the figure is big—even bigger than Tiny. He blocks out all the light before he jams something over my head.
It’s not soft fabric; it feels like heavy-duty canvas and blocks out the light as I’m yanked to my feet by a pair of big hands. My feet barely touch the ground as they drag me from the closet.
I squirm as much as possible, trying to shake loose the hood so I can see something. “Hey, slow down!”
With a grunt, the big guy yanks me under one arm, dragging me somewhere. I feel like I’m being led down a hall. Door hinges squeak, and I’m flung inside, falling to my knees and then on my face because my arms are still bound behind my back.
“Stay here.” The big fucker’s voice is softer than I thought it would be, but it still has thatdon’t fucking test metone that I’ve come to know well.
I stay flat on the floor with my hands behind my back, waiting to see what happens next. He grips my forearm, and two sharp jerks later, my hands are free. I flip over quickly and find a giant man glaring down at me. Broad shoulders, angry brows, and a tattoo that covers the front of his neck peg him as a gangbanger. “Eat, and don’t try anything funny.”
My gaze follows his finger to a small nightstand with a plate on top of it containing what looks like carne asada tacos.
“There ain’t shit funny about any of this,” I mumble as I get to my feet slowly. My legs are shaky since I’ve been sitting for at least twenty-four hours. “How long have I been here?”
“Too long,” he grunts and then leaves the room. The sound of a key turning inside the lock is so loud it’s damn near oppressive.
My shoulders fall in defeat. I’m locked inside a room with nothing but a bed and a nightstand with a shitty lamp on top of it that looks like a Goodwill cast off. And tacos. My stomach growls as a reminder. I eat the tacos, swallowing down the spicy meat with a scowl. They’re kind of good, and at least it’s food, fuel for whatever comes next.
I look around the room again, inspecting every inch of it in search of something. A weapon, a trap door. Anything. There’s a window, and I try to open it to find it’s nailed shut. And has barson the outside. Figures. “Motherfucker!” I smack the window, pissed off it wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.
But not easy doesn’t mean impossible.I peek through the curtains to check out my surroundings. It’s dark outside, and a large tree obscures just about everything except part of a red car.
“Think, Cassidy, goddammit, think!”
I don’t know how much time passes before the door opens, and Tiny sticks his giant head in the small opening.
“Keep these guys happy. Or else.” He slams the door, and it echoes in the room like I’m in a cavern or something.
Left alone with my thoughts, I can’t think of anything but who the fuckthese guysare. Do they plan to whore me out? Sell my body until I’m a broken shell of a woman, and if so, then what? I move toward the door and press my ear to it, hearing an unfamiliar voice issue instructions.
“You motherfuckers have paid for time. You get twenty minutes to do whatever you want short of killing the bitch. Have fun.” The man speaking sounds happy as he gives instructions, and my shaky legs carry me back to the other side of the room.
A few minutes later, the door opens and a short and pudgy guy stares at me. He’s bigger by at least fifty pounds. I can’t see his face until he steps inside and pushes the door shut with a quietclick. He has straight dark hair, medium-brown skin, and a look in his eyes that’s fucking terrifying.
“Hey.” He flashes a nervous smile, and suddenly, it all becomes clear.
I look around the room again, noting the details. The single bed. The nightstand with one drawer.Oh, my fucking God.No.Absolutely not. That is not happening. I won’t let it. I stand to my full height and cross my arms.
“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. This will be over soon.” His smile turns menacing because he knows what I know. There’s no place to run or hide. He takes a step forward, and then another, and another, until he’s right in front of me, trapping me between him and the wall.
My hands ball into fists, and I prepare to raise my leg to knee this fucker as hard as I can in the balls, but he shocks me first with a punch that sends my head flying into the wall before I slide to the floor.
“Fuck,” I groan and scramble to my feet.
He walks slowly, confident he has the upper hand as he looms over me. He’s got me on weight and grabs my hair, yanking me back.
“Don’t make this too easy, sweetheart.”
“I won’t,” I growl in reply, punching him right in the dick as hard as I can.
“Bitch,” he grunts, releasing me to cup his sore dick.
“Asshole,” I shoot back and kick him in the face. I feel proud, but I know it’s not over. I try to step around him to check the door, but he grabs my ankle, and I fall face-first.
