Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
I toss the phone into the cup holder and press the gas pedal to the floor. Every possible worst-case scenario fills my mind as I get closer to town. I weave in and out of traffic, blowing my horn as if I'm able to make cars disappear out of my way if I hit it enough times. By the time I get to her house, I skid to a stop in her driveway, the car barely in park before I jump out and run to the front door.
Every hair on my body stood on edge when I easily push the door open, the house dead silent. "Hello?" I call out but don't get a response. I check every room on the ground floor but find no one, the same for upstairs as well. I return to the foyer and run a frustrated hand through my hair before a single note on the small table in the foyer.
"Good, maybe she left something," I say with a sigh of relief as I retrieve the note, only for my blood to run cold when I actually read it.
1429 Hemmingway Drive.
Come alone or she's dead.
22
MORGAN
Ihuddle up in a corner far from the intimidating men who hold us hostage in the cellar. Nervous eyes bounce around the room, fear hanging in the air while we wait for the unknown. I pull my knees tighter to my chest as I will myself not to cry. I'd been in my kitchen making a sandwich when four masked men burst through the back door. I'd felt the sharp sting in my side before the room began to tilt on its axis, everything ceasing to exist soon after.
Then I woke up in a literal hell.
I observe the frightened women around me. Many of them are covered in multiple bruises with dried blood streaking their skin. They seem to be around the same age as I am, the realization sending a wave of fear crashing into me. What if I'm now a part of the very trafficking ordeal that I'd unknowingly advertised on my live a few days ago?
The cellar door opens, fearful whimpers ricocheting throughout the room as heavy footfalls descend the stairs. A slim man in a tailored suit finally appears behind a cloud of smoke, a Cuban cigar hanging out of his mouth. He murmurs something to one of the guards before he turns his attention to us, a sinister smile stretching across his face.
"I'm sorry to leave you in suspense, ladies," he starts before taking a puff from his cigar, sending a stream of smoke from his nostrils when he exhales. It's almost as if watching the real devil in action, though the only thing this shmuck is missing are horns and a pointed tail. "I'm sure you have questions, and you're probably scared; that's normal." He straightens his posture a bit, his dark gaze passing over the sea of terrified faces. "As of right now, you're now my property, though that's temporary."
"Do we get to go home?" a timid voice asks from somewhere in the group.
He sighs dramatically. "That's a good question, a valid question, really. But no. What part of 'you're now my property’ did you not hear?"
My stomach flops at the thought of never going home again, of never seeing my father or Trent or my friends again. I can't fathom the reality of being stripped of my life to be sold into a life of abuse and pain until I'm finally killed. I wonder if Trent even knows I'm missing or how to find me. I don't even know where I am to even know if I'm still in town. For all I know, I can be clear across the country right now, and no one would know the first place to look to find me.
I'm so screwed.
"As I was saying," the man continues in grand fashion, pacing the open space in front of us. "You're only going to be in my possession temporarily because all of you will go up for auction soon." Someone begins to sob in the back of the group, which starts a chain of wailing that becomes so loud that it hurts my ears. The man pulls a gun from his waist and holds it up. "The next person who interrupts me will get a bullet." When all is silent, he tucks his gun away. "We will get you cleaned up in order to take pictures for the upcoming auction. And then we'll get you ready to transport overseas since someone's boyfriend raided the last auction and has forced us to move."
My breath hitches in my throat when he points at me, all eyes falling on me. He stalks over to me, his menacing eyes promising all kinds of evil things as he moves closer.
"Your boyfriend cost us a lot of money, you know." He releases a deep sigh. "Now how do you think we can remedy that?" My tongue remains stuck to the roof of my mouth as I only stare up at him with wide eyes. I yelp when he tightly fists my blond locks, pain blooming across my scalp as he pulls. "Speak!"