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“Stay.” His voice is gruff, and the look he gives warns me not to defy him. He doesn’t go far and grabs a small metal chair by the only doorway in this place. It’s a large room. Empty, and with a few dozen boxes stacked against the opposite wall of where I am. There’s a second floor, but it’s all dark and the windows are too high for me to reach except for one right across from the metal stairs. They look unstable but will have to do.
“Count of three,” I mumble and take a step forward, ready to make a run when Hayes grabs my arm. “Let go.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Do you really expect me to sit here and wait for him to kill me?”
“He won’t hurt you, London. I won’t allow it.”
At that I laugh, the sound rough and sardonic. “Really? You’re going to stop him?”
“You have my—”
“Your word means jack after helping a criminal kidnap me to use as a pawn. The fact that you’re willing to go this far for what? Revenge for a woman that didn’t love you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he spits out, grabbing my wrist in a hold sure to leave a bruise. Hayes pulls me toward the pole, a hand on either side, and wraps the tie around them. It’s tight, hurts a bit, but plastic isn’t metal. “If you want to get out of here unscathed, I suggest not pissing off the only person here that cares if you live or die. To them, you’re just the dessert after a gory main attraction. Remember that next time you open that slick mouth of yours, kid.”
He walks away, kicking the chair toward me on his way out of the room. The heavy door clanks against the metal frame as it closes, leaving me alone.
With the toe of my shoes, I kick it closer and take a seat. Think.
The glass above me shows some light, so it can’t be that late. Maybe four or five.
“How do I get out of this mess?” Leaning my head against the metal pole, I close my eyes for a minute or two, trying to remember this video on Facebook I once saw about self-defense and what to do if you’re tied with zip ties.
You have to tighten them, leaving no space between the hands.
Extend your hands out with the palms facing each other.
Then you pull back as hard as you can.
Easy peasy.
“You seem lost in thought, Lola. Want to share with the class?” My eyes open and snap toward the sound of Alton’s voice. When did he come in? Why didn’t I hear him?
He’s standing a few feet away and watching me with that same creep-tastic look in his eyes. The same one that’s always made me wary of him. That he’s not right in the head.
“Why can’t you just let me be?” I ask, trying to buy myself a bit of time. He’s a talker. Get him going, and he might not notice my actions.
“Because you’re mine.” He says it so calmly, so emotionless. Alton takes another step toward me, his hand reaching out, but instead, he drops it and turns around, giving me his back at the last second. His good hand is at his hair and pulling. His breathing is becoming agitated. “You just had to fuck him, didn’t you? Had to give away the one thing that was going to make me enough money to disappear. He took your cherry and everything else that mattered in my life.”
While he talks, I take the end of the zip and pull, tightening the cord. But as his words sink in, I pause and sit straight. “What do you mean, disappear?”
“Dad wanted to sell you to an overseas trafficker. That, or whore you out, while I want to keep you.”
“You two are sick,” I whisper, but it’s not low enough and before I can turn my face, his fist connects, sending me back. The force is enough to break the hold of the plastic, my body landing hard on the cold concrete.
Blood drips from the cut at the corner of my bottom lip, and my head feels woozy. It takes a moment for me to regain complete visual of him, and even then, there’s a ringing in my ear that’s distracting.
He’s angry. Visibly shaking as he lowers himself over me.
Trapping me against the floor so I can’t escape. My legs kick out, but it does nothing to dislodge him. Instead, it makes him laugh, a hot, panting chuckle against my neck. He’s hard, and I’m disgusted. Acid-like-bile rises up my throat as panic sets in.
No one is here. No one to stop him.
I want to yell. Scream, but the words won’t come out.
“Even if you did, no one will hear you. This building is completely soundproof.” His good hand wanders over my rib and higher, skimming over my breast before wrapping around my neck. Squeezing hard. Painfully so as to block my airways. “I’m going to fuck you as Malcolm Asher bleeds out in front of you, London. I’m going to break you, pass you around to anyone willing to pay for your used cunt, and then have you train my next whore while I spend every last dime your mother left you. You’ll pay for your betrayal.”
