Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“I would have gotten you a nicer one.”
His statement shocks me so much I can’t answer him. Instead, I simply gape, dumbfounded by this man who has swooped in and effectively stunned me.
I’m only distracted by my phone buzzing on the bar beside me. Quickly, I pick it up and see a message from Carter asking what time I’ll be home. I respond that I’ll be back soon and put my phone back into my purse. Glancing up, I see Marek still standing there, still staring at me with that intense gaze.
“Are you this intense with everyone you meet or am I just the lucky one?” I ask, taking the drink and swallowing a lot more than I should in one mouthful.
It burns as it goes down.
“I see I’m making you nervous,” he answers, voice smooth as ice.
“You’re not making me anything,” I snap, shaking my head slightly as I finish the drink.
“Better slow down. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
The way he says that sentence makes me slightly uneasy.
“I should go find my friend,” I tell him, pushing to my feet. “It was good to meet you, Marek.”
I take two steps toward the crowd when my head swims. For a moment, I’m confused. I’ve had a few drinks, but nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve been dancing all night, and I haven’t eaten, perhaps the combination hasn’t agreed with me. I take another step and stumble forward. A hand catching my arm is the only thing that stops me from face planting the ground.
“Come on, you need fresh air.”
Unable to argue as my head swims, I let Marek lead me out of the bar and to a quiet parking lot. He doesn’t release me, and the fresh air does little to help. My head is spinning harder with each passing second, and before I know it, I’m in Marek’s arms. I don’t even recall him picking me up, as if my mind is already having small blackouts.
It’s then I realize exactly what has happened.
Marek drugged me.
Is he going to assault me? Or worse, kill me?
“Let me go,” I moan, my voice slurred.
He doesn’t answer me.
His feet are moving, and he’s carrying me, but my vision is so blurred I don’t know where we’re going.
“Why?” I croak as he reaches a truck and opens the back door, putting me on the back seat.
“I need you, little dancer.”
After that, my world goes black.
2
Iwake from a terrifying slumber and find myself in a cage.
It takes me longer than a few minutes to realize I’m no longer sleeping and experiencing terrible nightmares. Instead, this is real and I’m awake. The bars surrounding me aren’t a figment of my imagination, and the cold grass beneath me isn’t some awful dream. No, this is real, and as my eyes clear, I know that it is a situation that is going to forever alter my life.
I’ve been captured.
For what, I don’t know.
We’ve all heard the stories of human trafficking that have been swirling over the past few years in this area, have I become victim? Is this man going to sell me as a sex slave? Or worse, is he going to kill me after he’s abused me for months? Every horrible scenario plays in my mind and inch by inch, fear consumes me.
The sound of a soft moan has me startling and slamming against the back of the cage I’m in.
That’s when I see I’m not alone.
Oh no, I’m surrounded by girls in cages.
Eyes widening as my mouth drops open, I let my gaze focus on the scene before me. There are a lot of cages—there has to be at least twenty girls in here. Here, being a tent. Like a circus tent. It is big, and a dull light on the ceiling is all that illuminates the immense space. Trembling, I shuffle forward, pressing my face to the cage as I look at the girls.
None of them seem to be acknowledging my presence.
It’s as if they’re in a daze.
Most are sleeping, the rest are sitting, staring out at nothing, like their souls have been sucked from their bodies.
What the hell is this place?
The moan beside me has my head whipping in the direction of the cage to my left. There is a girl in there, young, maybe only in her early twenties. She’s got dark hair and pale skin, and her body is small and frail. She’s leaning forward, her knees pulled up to her chest, her head dropped down between them. Every now and then, she makes a noise, as if she’s in pain.
“Hey,” I whisper, scooting closer to the edge of my cage and curling my fingers around the bars. “Hey, are you okay?”
She doesn’t lift her head.
“Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
“Please,” I beg. “Can you tell me what this place is? What are we doing here?”