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“You’ll need to tell me everything,” I inform her, settling in the booth opposite her. The curtain opens, and in walks River with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses.
“I think we need these,” he says, shoving me farther into the bench seat. He pours three shots and offers Harper one. She looks sixteen, but from what she’s just told me, I know she’s twenty.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
She nods and starts her story. I listen intently, lifting the shot glass, downing one after the other as I listen to the story about the girl I’ll soon be meeting.
“How do you know she’s here?”
Harper sighs. “A man called Thanos,” she utters the name that’s been top of my list. “I overheard Daddy talking to him when I snuck into his office years ago. At the time, I didn’t know what it meant. But, two weeks ago, I overheard him on a call. Daddy told the man, Thanos, that he can keep Caia to pay off his debt.”
“What debt?” River questions, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t know. She’s been here for four years, Drake. I don’t even know if she’s alive.” Her voice breaks on the last word, and I know I have to shift Thanos up my list. He’s next. “Drake, my sister isn’t the only girl that’s been missing. Caia’s best friend was kidnapped over eight years ago. I remember my sister was distraught about it. When they took her, she was only fourteen at the time.” Harper’s words only cement my resolve. “There’s one more thing.”
“What?” River asks before I can.
“I ran away from home. My father . . .,” she whispers. “He’s done things. Bad things.”
I know exactly what she means. When Malcolm died, we found the videos he had on all his clients. And Caia’s father is one of them. I didn’t know his name at the time, but now everything is falling into place. My father had marked the videos by initial and a number. Her father’s video was labeled A457 for Amoretto. I never did find out what the numbers were, they didn’t have any rhyme or reason.
I didn’t even recognize Harper, but when she blinks and the tears trickle down her cheeks, I see it. I see the girl from the video, and the alcohol turns in my stomach, causing bile to rise into my throat.
Meeting River’s gaze, I nod. Offering him the signal he needs to set our plan in motion, I turn to Harper. “We’ll get her back.”
“Promise?”
Her voice is timid, her eyes round with fear, and there’s an innocence to her even though she’s lived through those videos that have gotten my father’s clients jerking their dicks. She looks just like her sister; the only difference is she’s not the one my body aches for.
“I swear.”
My words are a vow. A promise. And I never break my promises.
CHAPTER FIVE
CAIA
The shadows hold me in their warmth.
At the moment, I’m safe.
Alone. But I know it won’t last long.
My eyes blink in the dim light. Cold trickles through me from the chilly breeze sweeping through the room, causing me to shiver.
My skin, bare to the cold, dots with goosebumps. It’s the same every night. Each time the moon rises and the sun falls, I feel the cold more than I do in the daytime. But the only reason I know night is falling is from the small hole in the wall that tells me so.
It’s been four years since that day. When time stilled, and I was left with the darkness I wanted to escape. The moment I was taken from one hell and brought to another.
When I awoke, I was in this cell with no one to tell me what had happened. Scared, alone, and filled with anxiety, I cried until my tears ran dry. I recall the boy with the blue eyes. The one who looked like he was going to save me. I remember bleeding, his hands holding onto me like I was his lifeline, but I slipped through his fingers. I thought I would be free, but now I’m here, still caught in the dark.
The moment I woke up in this cell, my body had shuddered violently. So much so, I had puked all over my clothes, which he left me in for a week. When I finally got a chance to change into the small white nightdress they offered me, the dress Drake had put me in was crusted with my week-old vomit.
My captor allows me into his club. He’s given me clothes to wear, made sure my body is inked so the scars below are hidden. My hair is no longer brown; it’s a deep red. And soon, I know he’ll get tired of me because I’m getting older.
Each day got more difficult. More painful. I was taken into rooms where there were men who would watch me. Some of the men didn’t touch me, but they didn’t need to because their eyes invaded every part of me. Between my legs, my budding chest, they looked at me like I was a meal for them to feast on. But it was the moment I was no longer just on show, that I was a toy to be used, that my mind clicked off, and I no longer felt anything. And I’m numb, turned off from the world surrounding me.
