Chapter 12
SCARLET
The truck lurches to a hard stop after a turn. We’re parking. A few moments later, the back opens and lights from a parking lot shine into the truck. Men speak in Spanish as one jumps up into the truck, storming inside. He’s much bigger than the other men I’ve seen during this nightmare. His cold demeanor reminds me of the evil patrons that always made me nervous at the club.
He counts the women in the truck and finishes at eighteen. There are eighteen of us in here. A flashlight shines in my face. “You’re a pretty one. Is that hair real?”
I don’t react.
He casts his light around the truck at the other eighteen women. We’ve been picking up more women as we’ve driven. This is a regular thing that these men do.
He reaches down and pulls me off the floor. “You smell.”
I think of quippy remarks I could make to tell him he deserves nothing less than the smell of old urine, but I keep silent. Another man corrals the other women out the door and into a panel van. The man shoves me from the truck, and I land on the hard asphalt. Oh God, my baby. I hit hard on my side, feeling my shoulder pop.
He chuckles as he speaks with a heavy Spanish accent. “Get used to this. I’m keeping you for a while.”
I’m the last one crammed inside the van, tears streaming down my face from the burning around my shoulders.
“Sit there silently and don’t cause any trouble.” A second man climbs into the passenger seat with a gun as the larger man pulls the van away from the motel parking lot.
Women whimper and cry. It can’t be a good sign that they didn’t blindfold us or anything. My arms have lost feeling, but my shoulder has a red-hot poker jamming it as we drive. Every bump in the road adds to the pain. I can’t stand it anymore. A looming sign pops up into view that welcomes us to the Outer Banks. We’re in North Carolina. How the hell is Thane going to find me now?
“Scarlet?” Something touches me, and my eyes ping open, searching for the threat. My movement jars my body, and I cry out.
“We’ve stopped.” Renee’s head jerks around the van. “What’s going to happen?”
I grit my teeth and swallow the bile in my throat. “We’re going to survive. Don’t do anything, yet. Let them think we’re too afraid to fight.”
The van door opens and both men grab at us. The man with the gun hits one of the women fighting to stay in the van. “I’ll kill her and then the next one.”
The women stop moving and shift to exit the side door.
They parked the van in the garage, closing the door. They lead us into the house through the door. I cry out as the larger man grabs my arm. He looks at me, yanking a knife from his sheathe on his waistband and slicing through the zip tie. He moves my arm as I scream.
“Dislocated.” He pushes me against the wall in the walkway by the kitchen. “Stand here.”
The two men open the door behind the laundry room and herd the women down the stairs. I start to move as the man glares at me. I stop. My heart is telling my feet to run but my head is yelling I’ll just fall down and hurt myself more.
Moments later, the men march up the stairs and lock the two padlocks on the door. That is just overkill. So much for getting the keys and letting everyone out. My breath shudders as the large man walks toward me. He points for me to walk, and I get half-way through the living room, and he grabs my other arm. I scream as he holds my wrist. “Lay down.”
My eyes bulge out of my head.
“I’m not going to fuck you. You smell too fucked up. I can’t have you screaming and crying about your shoulder. Lie down!”
I brace myself on the edge of the sofa and lower myself to the floor. I’ve seen shoulder reductions done. I lie on my back and break out into a cold sweat.
“Stop moving.” He moves to the floor. “This will be easier if you relax.”
I open my mouth to speak but close it just as quick. He won’t find anything I say amusing. Shut the hell up, Scarlet.
“Put your arm out to the side. Bend your elbow and move your hand to touch the top of your head.”
I move and my shoulder feels like someone is driving a metal stake into my body. Groaning, I do as I’m told.
“Move the hand down toward your neck, like you’re going to scratch the back.” Nausea rolls my stomach. “Now move the hand to your other shoulder. It’ll pop.”
I’m breathing as slowly as my stressed body will allow. Blowing the air out of my lungs, the popping sound explodes in my ear. Relief floods my body, and for a brief moment, the pain is gone. He reaches down to grab my other arm and pulls me to stand. Throbbing fires all over my body. My face and head ache from the pavement. The entire side of my body pulses in agony as he pulls me to the stairs.
“Stop. I’m not touching you until you smell better. Let’s go.”
He shoves me into the bathroom attached to a large bedroom and slams the door. I hear him padlock the door. He yells. “I’ll bring you food and a pill. Make sure to clean every centimeter of that body. I’m going to take my time with you before I sell you to someone else. That red hair better match your pubes.”
I rush to strip off my dirty clothes and use the toilet. Please don’t be any blood. Please. I’m afraid to examine the toilet paper, but finally do. No blood. I sob as I wipe myself before turning on the shower. I can’t use the arm from my injured shoulder, so it’s going to be hard to clean myself and my hair.
A while later, he pounds on the door. “Get out.”
He’s going to rape me. The little voice inside me screams for me to find a way to fight, but my head lists all the reasons I need to stay alive. I dry off and wrap the towel around myself. “I’m done.” The words wobble out of my mouth. Where are you, Thane? I have no idea why but I believe in my heart he’ll find me.
The man opens the door and thrusts a t-shirt at me. “Here.” He points to the food on the bed. “Eat. I have something to do, then I’ll take a shower and wash off all the funk from you women.” He licks my cheek. “Then we’ll have some fun.” He exits and slams the door.
I grab what looks like a bologna sandwich and walk to the window. I touch the glass and it doesn’t give. Is this special glass for hurricanes? The water in the sound is beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go to the Outer Banks, but I would have skipped this.
I open the bottle of water and drink the entire contents. Once it’s empty, I walk into the bathroom and refill it, drinking it dry again. Please don’t throw up. I concentrate on the life inside me and look through the room for a weapon to protect myself.
I refill the bottle again and set it on the counter, deciding to pee once more.
The room door opens, and he storms around the corner with a red face and a tight jaw. “Oh. You’re here.”
“Yep. Here.”
“What’s your name?”
No way in hell I’m giving him my real name. Without thinking, I blurt. “Athena.” That’s as good as any. The goddess of wisdom. Damn, I need some.
“I’ve never heard that name.”
“It’s a family name.”
He leers at me, licking his lips like a monster in a horror movie. “Whatever. Come here.”
I wipe myself as my stomach flips. I can’t afford to lose that food. It bounces in my stomach as I steady my breathing and walk toward the man. He grabs my other wrist and opens the drawer next to the bed, pulling out a set of handcuffs. “I’ve got some things I have to do, so you’re going to have to wait for my lovin’”
My stomach rolls at the thought.
He points to the blanket on the floor. “Lay the fuck down. It’s the only sleep you’re going to get until I’m done.” He stomps to the door and shuts it. I yank on the cuffs. Fuck.