Chapter 28

Posey

"Let me go," I shout at the man driving the large black van, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance. I know exactly what this is—a nightmare unfolding in real-time. They"re about to sell me off to some faceless buyer, and there"s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.

The only shred of defiance I cling to is the knowledge that I"m no longer a virgin. It"s my own small victory, a little fuck you aimed squarely at Bane.

My hands are bound tightly behind my back, rendering me powerless. Surprisingly, there"s no bag over my head like in the movies. These men don"t care if I know where we"re going. They're confident they'll never be caught.

But my heart aches for Ledger. Is he okay? Did they kill him? The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes. No, I can"t afford to think that way. I have to believe he"s alive—because the alternative is too unbearable to even imagine.

I struggle against my restraints, knowing deep down it"s futile. It"s a hopeless situation, but I"ll keep fighting until my last breath. And if I"m sold to some rich asshole, I"ll fight him too. I"d rather die than surrender to someone I don"t love.

"We"re here," the driver announces to his accomplice in the back of the van, his voice devoid of emotion.

I twist my body to catch a glimpse of our surroundings through the window. The docks. My heart lurches in my chest as I spot a looming cargo ship in the distance. It feels surreal, like a scene ripped from a nightmare.

But this is reality, and there"s no escaping the cruel fate that awaits me. I refuse to shed a single tear for these despicable men. My hatred for Bane burns hotter than ever, a consuming fire that threatens to consume me from within.

My thoughts briefly stray to my father, wondering if he's safe. But I know deep down that Bane will find him—he always does.

Bane"s triumph is a bitter pill to swallow, leaving me empty of everything I hold dear in this world. My heart aches with a raw, gnawing pain as I grapple with the enormity of my loss.

Once more, my thoughts are drawn inexorably to Ledger, and this time the floodgates of my grief burst open. Tears stream down my cheeks unchecked, mingling with the salty spray of the sea air.

"Let me go," I shout again, my voice cracking with desperation, though I know it"s a pointless plea. These men have no intention of granting my freedom. It"s a harsh reality—one that no amount of defiance can change.

In moments like these, one might be tempted to utter rebellious words of defiance, to declare that justice will prevail. But this isn"t a movie script. There"s no heroic last-minute rescue waiting in the wings. This is my life now—a cruel twist of fate that I"m powerless to escape.

As the reality of my fate sinks in, I cry not only for what I"ve lost but also for the life I yearn for—a life I could have had with Ledger. I mourn for the dreams we shared, now shattered beyond repair.

I imagine it all with painful clarity.

The wedding we would have shared.

The deep well of love between us.

The joy of raising a family together.

It"s a vision of happiness that now feels impossibly distant, forever out of reach.

Tears continue to blur my vision as the van comes to a halt, the sudden stop of movement jolting me back to the grim reality of my situation. With a heavy sigh, the driver cuts the engine, plunging us into an eerie silence that seems to amplify the pounding of my heart.

Before I can even register what"s happening, rough hands seize me, wrenching me from the van with a brutal force that leaves me feeling like a mere rag doll in their grasp. I struggle against their iron grip, thrashing and twisting in a desperate bid for freedom. Every fiber of my being screams for escape, even though I know deep down that there"s nowhere to run.

The men haul me along like a captive, their fingers digging into my flesh with a cruel intensity that leaves bruises in their wake. I grit my teeth against the pain, summoning every ounce of strength I have left to fight back.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I twist my head and sink my teeth into the hand of one of the men, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

"You fucking bitch," he snarls, releasing his hold on me momentarily. But before I can savor even a moment of respite, his other hand lashes out, delivering a brutal blow across my cheek that sends stars dancing behind my closed eyelids.

His companion laughs callously, his grip tightening as he holds me firmly in place.

"She fucking bit me," the man who hit me says. "Fucking bitch bit me," he says like he can't believe I'd ever do such a brave thing.

The one who still has a grip on me continues to chuckle, his laughter grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. For a fleeting moment, I entertain the hope that they might turn on each other, allowing me a chance to slip away unnoticed. In a desperate bid for freedom, I stomp down hard on his foot, but my efforts only seem to fuel his amusement, his laughter echoing cruelly in my ears.

"She"s a fighter, this one," he remarks, yanking me closer to the imposing bulk of the ship looming before us.

As we ascend a ladder to board the vessel, I steal a glance at the rows of shipping containers lining the deck, a stark reminder of the illicit activities unfolding in the shadows of the harbor. The ship sprawls out before us, its sheer size a testament to the magnitude of the operation at hand. I can"t help but wonder how long it will take to sail this behemoth out of the harbor—a small glimmer of hope flickers within me, praying that federal agents are combing the city in search of me.

But the hope is fleeting, overshadowed by the reality of my predicament. How did these men breach the security measures in my room? The answer is clear. Bane"s influence knows no bounds, his pockets lined with dirty money from Mayor Thornberg, the architect of my impending trafficking ordeal.

With a surge of defiance, I spit at the man in front of me, the same man whose hand I sank my teeth into earlier. I know I"m only inviting further trouble with each act of defiance, but I refuse to go down without a fight. I loathe them with every fiber of my being, my hatred burning like a raging inferno.

They usher me down a set of narrow metal stairs and into a cramped room at the end of a dimly lit corridor. The man shoves me roughly to the floor, the unforgiving metal flooring scraping against my skin as I land with a painful thud.

After giving me a cursory once-over, they lock me inside the room, their footsteps fading into the distance as they leave. I waste no time springing to my feet, pounding my fists against the metal door, my voice hoarse from shouting.

A foghorn blares in the distance, its cry a chilling reminder of my captivity. I scour the room for anything—anything at all—that could aid in my escape, but all I find are sterile metal surfaces and machinery devoid of any potential weapon.

I"m trapped, living in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape. It"s a bitter realization. One that leaves me feeling utterly powerless and utterly alone.