Chapter 1

Chapter One

Derrick

I've never disliked when they struggle.

There's always some form of challenge to it, because terror has a way of giving people strength far out of proportion to what they normally draw on in any given situation. There are those who've said in moments of intense fear they called on ‘superhuman strength', and that's been my observation. At least, when it's a young woman realizing she's about to be taken.

"Let. Me. GO !" she screamed.

I didn't.

This place was an absolute shithole, which made the task of restraining her doubly difficult since I had zero desire to get infected from a cut, especially with all the garbage and drug paraphernalia littering the house. Hell, the stench alone was enough to give her an advantage, and it was a blessing when I did let her go for a second to try to reason with her she made a run for the bedroom and tried to slam the door in my face.

"Oh, no. Bad idea," I chided, wedging my foot in the threshold before she could get it shut.

"Get the fuck away from me, motherfucker!" she yelled back.

I gave her a second to put all her weight into the door to block me then I slammed into it, throwing her off balance and making her stumble back into the room. I came through the door behind her and closed it as she scrambled over the mattress lying crooked on the floor.

"See"—I pointed to where she'd stopped in a crouch on the opposite side—"that was a mistake, because now you're trapped in here with me."

Her eyes went wide, fear blowing the pupils into two enormous black orbs.

"Next time, remember—always head for outside. Give yourself space to maneuver. Never try and barricade yourself in a room, because all you do is trap yourself with your enemy."

"Go fuck yourself," she snarled, but the words wavered.

I didn't immediately go for her, because… why? I had her where I wanted her, and from this point forward I was the one in complete control. The fact was, I'd been in complete control of this situation the first time I'd seen her months ago. I'd been working another of Colbie's snatch-n-grab jobs that time, and Lindsey… Well, she'd merely been the strung-out girlfriend of a nickel-and-dime drug dealer I'd given less than two thoughts about. But I'd noticed Lindsey for sure. I remembered her. Watched her. Studied her. And when my op for Colbie was finished, I decided she'd be a perfect candidate for the people who employed me in my off time.

So, here I was, and while the bedroom was nominally cleaner than the cesspool of the living room, the difference was small at best. A glance told me all I needed to know; drywall busted open in several places where someone had punched or kicked it, something I didn't even what to take a guess at smeared in streaks over the dingy white paint, and whatever had stained and crusted the surface of a portion of the mattress visible beneath the wad of yellow-tinged sheets I could glimpse.

I gave her a moment's respite, because I needed her to start thinking. If she was thinking then she'd listen, and the easiest way for this to end for both of us was if she thought this through rather than reacted on blind fear.

She was still breathing heavily but not gulping in air, so I asked, "It's… Lindsey, right?"

She swallowed. "How… how did you know my name?"

I kept my voice low and calm. "I know a lot about you."

She scrunched her face, looking perplexed. "You do?"

"Mmhmm. I know you weren't always like this. I know it wasn't that many years ago you were a completely different person. But that was before Daddy left, and Mommy took that hard, didn't she? And when she got mixed up with some very disagreeable people, well… what's the saying? Like mother, like daughter."

"How…"

"How?" I shook my head slowly. "How doesn't matter, Lindsey. What you need to start understanding is that how and why aren't really important questions to ask, considering the direction your life is about to take. What's important for you to focus on right now can be encapsulated in two simple words: yes, Sir."

"Yes, Sir?" She said the words softly, sounding confused, and that was exactly what I wanted, because it was another indication she wasn't fighting, but thinking.

"Yes. You need to learn how to use those two words, and more importantly, how to act upon them."

She darted her gaze left and right. First to me, then the room, a dance I was sure matched the chaotic thoughts racing through her head. I gave her time, because every second she kept thinking rather than trying to flee was a victory for me. She was doing exactly what I needed her to, and she didn't even realize it.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, a trace of calmness in her tone, one that had been completely missing a moment ago.

I shrugged. "Because I can. Because it's what I do."

"But why me? What'd I do to you?"

"You did nothing." I held up my hand. "Please understand, this isn't personal. It's simply business."

"Business?" The answer clearly confused her, but she was also sounding calmer with every word she spoke.

"Yes."

"I… I don't have any money."

"Okay."

She ran her hand through her tangled blonde hair. "Are you… Does Kyle owe you? If you're looking for his cash, he keeps it on him. I don't have it."

"Not looking for money."

She narrowed her eyes. "I… I can show you where his stash is. He's got tweek and some bud. It's not a lot 'cause he's using right now, but you can have it."

I chuckled, tilting my head. "Do I look like I use to you?"

"I…" She slowly pressed her lips into a thin, tight line. "Oh, god, you're going to fuck me, aren't you?" She didn't say it with fear, but with resignation.

I gave her a little smile. "I could, but I'm not. However"—I held up a finger—"hold that thought, because where you're going…"

"Going?"

"Mmhmm."

She shook her head. "I don't understand. If you don't want money, or drugs, or sex… What do you want?"

I let my smile grow a little wider. "You."

Her mouth came open, puzzlement tugging at the corners of her eyes. "Me? But… you just said you weren't going to fuck me."

"And I'm not. I'm going to take you."

"Take… me? Where?"

"To sell you."

Now the fear reappeared, a slow-blooming flower that spread across her face as my words sank in. As recognition took root, it gave me the opportunity I needed, and I stepped over the mattress in two quick strides. At the last second, her fight-flight instinct overcame her terror, and she brought her hands up to hit or push me away or something, but that simply worked to my advantage. Gripping her wrists, I shoved backward until she slammed into the wall behind her. Her body struck with a dull thud, and I followed close, pinning her in place.

"Let me go, let me go, Let me go !" she screamed, her voice rising steadily with each word.

She was back to struggling, but that was to be expected. Hitting her with the reason I was here was always going to be a make-or-break moment. I held her in place as she used every bit of her strength to try to tear free. That wasn't going to happen, but until she came to terms with it, I was banking on the one thing Lindsey had already proven: she wasn't stupid. Even terrified, she was still using her head to take in what was going on around her. I needed to be patient and let her lizard-brain reaction fade until she was thinking rationally again.

She tried kicking, but the thing about letting yourself be pinned is you lose all the advantage leverage gives. I was a good foot taller than her and easily fifty pounds heavier, so the outcome of this little skirmish of ours was foregone. I simply needed to wait her out until she came to her senses.

Which she did. Whatever thoughts churned inside her head turned fears to tears that streamed down her face, the shrieking words becoming defeated whimpers until, eventually, she stood, chest heaving, as I held her in my grasp.

"Lindsey."

She didn't meet my gaze but stared down, head swaying back and forth.

"Lindsey." I slowly let go of one wrist, ready to grasp it again if she decided to take advantage of the release. She didn't. Instead, she simply trembled as I brought my fingers up under her chin, tilting her head back until she gave in and looked into my eyes.

"I need you to focus. Nothing you can do now is going to prevent what's going to happen here. Nothing. The chance for you to change any part of what's going on is long gone. What you need to do now is start focusing on those two words I gave you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she choked. "Ye… yes, Sir?"

"There you go! Starting right now, you need to learn to use those two words anytime a man tells you to do something. Because if you don't…"

I dropped my hand from her chin and let it come down to cup her breast.

It was full, heavy and warm beneath the thin cotton of her scraggly, faded T-shirt. She didn't have a bra on, and I was surprised when my thumb brushed over her nipple and found it hard. Fear. Fear did different things to different people, and discovering this about Lindsey told me I needed to up my asking price for her.

Value added.

She hadn't moved as I fondled her, but now as I closed my thumb and forefinger, she twisted to get away from the grip I had on her bud, pain smearing her face.

" Fuck !" she cried, trying to jerk away. Her back was against the wall, though, and there was no place to flee from the torture I was inflicting. "Please stop," she begged. "Please stop, oh god, please stop!"

"Please stop… what?" I waited patiently, neither releasing the tension nor increasing it.

And I was rewarded. "Please stop… Sir."

I let go immediately. "That's it! Good girl, Lindsey. Good girl." I brought my hand up to cradle her cheek. "See how easy that was?"

And I was rewarded again by a tiny smile that barely touched the corners of her mouth but might as well have filled her entire face.

"Listen," I continued, caressing through the wetness that stained her skin. "If you cooperate, play your cards right, I'm telling you, there's absolutely nothing you need to be afraid of."

Her throat worked as she swallowed. "How can you say that? You… You're kidnapping me."

"You're right, I am." I brushed my thumb to wipe away a fresh tear. "But you need to stop thinking of it in terms of it being a bad thing, like what's happened to you in the past. This isn't going to be anything like the first time your mother let a man fuck you for an eightball she couldn't afford. This isn't going to end with you in a place like where we're at right now. What I need you to do is think like the intelligent girl I know you are. The one that drug addict boyfriend of yours wouldn't recognize even if he was stone-cold sober. The young woman I doubt anyone else has ever recognized but me."

"You think I'm smart?" she whispered, searching my face for another of the thousand and one lies she would have been told before. "Me?"

"No. I know you are. I've watched you. I've learned everything I could about you." I let my finger trace the line of her jaw. "You, Lindsey, are the sole reason I'm here."

"But, why?"

"I told you. It's my job."

She shook her head. "I don't understand…"

"Right now, you don't need to. All you need to do is listen to me. Obey me. And not just me, but the men I'm selling you to. Because if you do, I swear, where you're going will be the beginning of the best thing that's ever happened to you in your life."

"How can you possibly expect me to believe that?" she asked in a soft, pleading tone.

"I already told you. Because you're smart. Because you know if all I wanted to do was steal money or drugs or fuck you or beat you to settle your ex-boyfriend's debt, or even… kill you"—I paused for a second to let the words sink in—"I'd have already done it. You know I'm telling the truth, Lindsey. I know you do. Simple as that."

She held my gaze, eyes pleading, trying to discern whether my words were the kind of bullshit her boyfriend Kyle would feed her, or the truth. "Please don't do this," she begged.

It was a request I knew was born from the one thing people fear the most: the unknown.

"Why?" I swept my arm to indicate the room around us. "Would you really rather stay here? In a relationship with a shitbag who'll pimp you out for a dime bag or less if he's hurting? Is that what you want, to cling to the desperate hope things will get better until they don't, and he just abandons you entirely? Is this where you want to be, with zero prospects for your future and nothing but more of this"—I gestured to the den of filth surrounding us—"ahead of you?"

"And letting you sell me… will be better?" she appealed in a choking tone that gave away what she was trying to hide: She knew I was right.

"Yes."

"That doesn't make any sense…"

"It will. In time, it will. You'll see."

She looked away, clearly not wanting to accept what part of her already had.

As I knew she would.

I brought my hand back to her face and turned it toward me. "Right now, all I need you to do is trust me."

Her eyes met mine.

"And obey."