4. Four

Joey

I open my eyes to a pitch black, cold room. My hands and ankles are bound together by thick pieces of rope. I try to scream, but my throat is so raw, nothing more than a small screeching sound makes it past my lips. My teeth chatter and I shiver, realizing I"m only wearing a pair of black briefs and an under shirt. Someone had removed my other clothes and taken my shoes.

I slam my feet against the cold cement floor in frustration, not able to fully remember where I was before this. I think I was on my way to meet Isaiah, but my mind keeps going blank every time I reach my last memory of walking out the door of one of the clubs we run together. Then I remember my driver Daniel telling me, "Sorry."

The rest is a giant blur. My aching head tells me I may have been knocked out by a hard blow to it. When I reach for the back of my hair, there is something wet and sticky matted between my thick strands. I stare at my fingers and my heart races from a sudden panic at my blood covered skin confirming my worst fears. Wherever I am, I doubt my abductors plan on me getting out alive.

They were ruthless and not careful. They didn't care if they hurt me in the process while getting me here. They aren't planning on a ransom or negotiation. Something else is happening here and there are a million different scenarios going through my mind. I think back to the car that had hit Isaiah ten years ago and the men who'd attacked us two years ago. Is it all related somehow?

We never did know who was behind the wheel all those years ago, but I always had an idea. Over time I let it slip away from my mind, not bothering to go back to it. We were far away from those people and the life I knew. So I had thought. Maybe I was wrong this whole time and they were slowly planning their revenge, waiting for the perfect moment.

I open my mouth to try and scream again. A metal door slides open, that"s when I realize I"m inside of a small shed covered in grime and blood. "Hola. I"m glad you"re awake. I"d hate for you to be asleep for your transfer. Then I"d have to carry you again and my back still hasn"t recovered from yesterday. You aren"t exactly a small guy."

The guy smiles and some of his front teeth are missing, his dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail. The scar on his cheek becomes more visible the more his lips turn up. It rests on his left cheek, leaving me with a sudden case of deja vu. This man is the same man who should have died two years ago.

"I sure hope you"re able to stand. I"d rather not drag your body to the car. It"s best if you stand up. I don"t want to scratch the merchandise up too much, not more than it already is." He peers down at me, raking his darkening eyes over my body.

I shudder in disgust. "Who are you?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "You don"t know how to follow rules, do you? I said get the fuck up, pinche cabron."

He kicks at my legs. I release a small yelp, trying to get to my knees, but struggling to find the strength. "Give me a minute. My fucking head hurts and I don"t know how long I"ve been out for."

"Not that long so hurry and get to your feet, princess, or soon a lot more than just your head will be hurting." He spits between my legs.

"It would help if you untied my ankles, dumb ass. I should have put a bullet between your eyes the last time I saw you helpless and down on your knees."

A heavy hand cracks against my cheek, nearly knocking the wind out of me. It would knock me to the ground if I wasn"t already sitting on it. "You will talk when asked to and you will not be a disrespectful little shit." He pulls out a pocket knife from his back pocket, kneeling in front of my feet. "Don"t try anything funny, princess, or I will slice you from nose to navel. I don"t care what the boss does to me afterward. I"ve hated you and your family for a long time. It's about time I get payback for what you and your little boyfriend did to me a few years ago. Look who's helpless and on his knees now."

He moves the blade over the skin of my leg, slowly dragging it to the ropes. With a malicious glint in his eyes, he slices through it, freeing my ankles. "Now you should have no problem standing." He pats my legs before getting off his knees. "Go on, get to your royal feet."

Sneering, I get to my knees, and slowly lift myself to my feet. I grab onto the wall behind me, attempting to straighten my body. I push my weight off the sheet of metal, slowly stepping forward.

"That"s a good boy. Don"t try anything stupid. You take off running and I"ll shoot without giving it a second thought. No one is special around here, especially not you." He shoves me forward, pointing to a white van. "Move that way. We are going for a little ride."

I walk toward the van, and he presses the gun to the back of my head, occasionally nudging against me when he thinks I"m moving too slow. He slides the van"s door open and grabs my arm, throwing me inside. "Have a fun trip."

He fully disappears when the door slams shut, leaving me sitting in the dark. I stare around me, not able to see much. I hear people scooting away and soft sobs. I"m not alone. I was too focused on trying to see what was all outside the van that I didn"t even look around me when he had the door open. The smell of sweat, piss, and blood saturates the air.

When the van starts moving, more bodies slide around. The cries grow louder and someone starts praying. It"s hard to make out all he is saying with the sounds of distress around him. I press my back harder against the wall of the van and dig my feet into the floor, steadying myself as the van drives faster. "They"re going to kill us," one person screams. "We are basically already dead."

Someone nearby shushes him. "We will only die if you start screaming your nonsense again. You know what will happen if they hear you."

"Who are they?" I ask.

"The bad men. You don"t want to make them angry. I"ve seen what happens when you do."

"Where are we going?"

"No one ever knows until they"re there," the same voice of reason from before answers.

"They"re going to kill us." The frightened guy whispers again in between sobs. "Just like they killed Danny."

"Who"s Danny?"

"His brother, we told him not to run, but he panicked and ran anyway. They put a bullet in the back of his head. He was only a boy," someone sitting on my right side says.

"And how old are you?"

"Eighteen. Trenton over there is seventeen. The rest are around the same age. What about you?"

"Way older than all of you. Thirty-two."

"That doesn"t make sense. I"ve never seen them much older than us before."

"I don"t think I was originally supposed to be a part of the lineup. I think there was a deal in place. How long have they had you and what's your name?"

"I"m not sure, but if I"d have to guess, I"d say months and my name's Jackson. Not that it matters now. Trenton and his brother had only been here a few weeks. My brother was taken too but it"s been while since I"ve seen him. He was in the last auction. We all end up there eventually," his tone shifts, and I can tell he"s lost hope long ago. He"s accepted this as his fate and is too beaten down to fight it any longer.

Someone pushes back the curtains from up front, letting a bit of light shine our way. "Shut up back there. You are not allowed to speak. Do it again and I will cut your tongues out."

"Where are you taking us?" I ask.

The man growls. "Don"t you worry about that, just sit back and shut up. You will go where we put you."

"They are going to kill us," Trenton whispers again and the small amount of light allows me to see him rocking back and forth with his eyes closed, his dark blond hair matted with blood.

I have to get out of here, we all do.