Page 37 of The Taken Duet


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“She’s been quiet this evening, sir,” the man who feeds me says. He’s bulky, with dark skin, which reminds me of coffee. His eyes are black, penetrating. Pools of tar which hypnotize me. The man who took me stares at me for a moment. He’s taken me to lavish parties, allowed me to eat the most decadent meals, but as soon as the lights go down, he drags me kicking and screaming to this pit and leaves me alone in the dark like a dog that’s being punished.

“Hello, little one,” William smirks. His eyes are the color of onyx. An abyss of treachery and torment shimmer as they pierce me. “Are you talking today?” he asks. I should answer. If I don’t, I’ll be punished. I know this, but I can’t. My throat burns with the agony of knowing he can hurt me so much more than he already has. Even so, I don’t reply.

His eyes roam over me for a moment, taking in my appearance. My red hair is long because he prefers it that way, so he can tug at it. His fist clenches around the locks, pulling my head up and toward him. I don’t know why I’m still here, still alive. I honestly have no idea.

“Not talking tonight?” he questions. His head tips to the side as he regards me with a satisfied smirk. Perhaps if I play the broken doll, he’ll let me go. But I know it’s wishful thinking. The thing about it is, I’ve seen his face. I know what he looks like, and he knows the first thing I’d do as soon as he let me go is talk to the police.

“What do you want to do with her, sir?” Coffee says. His voice is a deep rumble, reminding me of thunder rolling through the sky, alerting everyone a storm is on the way.

“Let’s see if she wants to tell me anything today,” the man with eyes the color of onyx tells Coffee. “I think it’s time we got her to open up about all those secrets in her pretty little head. Perhaps if it wasn’t so pretty, she’d tell us more. Wouldn’t you, little one?” Each day, they ask me a series of questions that I don’t know the answer to. With each incorrect answer, they shock me with the electric Taser. Either that, or if he’s here, he hurts me in other violent, immoral ways.

“I . . .” My voice is croaky as I try to respond. My throat burns when I clear it, as if there’s sandpaper moving back and forth over my vocal cords. “I really don’t know.” I hate that I sound weak. Like a stupid little girl. I suppose I am. Young and stupid. That’s why he likes me. He enjoys hurting me because he knows he shouldn’t.

His hair is graying at the sides, hinting at his age. An older man with a penchant for girls young enough to be his daughter. I know for a fact he's got tightly packed muscle under the suit he wears. A businessman with a darkness he hides from his clients, but his friends are well-versed in his sick desires.

“I think there’s so much more you know. All we have to do is unlock it. Reveal everything I need to know and then you can go home. Doesn’t that sound nice?” His sneer sends fear racing through me. It’s never going to stop.

Most men are power hungry. They’ll stop at nothing to be gods. They have a penchant for taking what's not theirs to take. I know this because the man before me, the one who was once a stranger with the black eyes, stole everything from me until I had nothing left to give.

“Do what you must.” My words aren’t angry; they’re defeated. I’m broken. There’s nothing more left inside me, and it scares me. I feel as if I’ll never be whole again. A phone vibrates and sings somewhere on one of the men, and my heart leaps into my throat. But as much as I’d like to scream for help, if I do, I’ll be dead before whoever is on the other line arrives.

“Yes.” His gruff voice sounds even more foreboding when he answers. While he listens to the caller with intrigue etched on his face, he watches me. Taunting me, waiting for me to try and act brave. But I’m not. Even though escaping is the only thing on my mind, I know it’s futile. “I’ll have my men bring her up. I think that would be splendid. Tonight, at nine is perfect. We’ll have dinner, and you’re welcome to try your luck with the stupid little toy.”

When he hangs up, he meets my gaze. The darkness only makes him look more ominous. He reminds me of the monsters that starred in my childhood nightmares.

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