Beautiful Captivity (The Club #1) (6 page)

Her

…

I wake, shaking. I don’t know where I am and I don’t remember how I got here. All I remember is R. It was horrible. I want to clean myself, but I can’t move. I try not to remember, but it’s all I can think about.

As soon as Zane left, the door closed, and R pushed my head against him so I was choking on his cock. It was huge and I couldn’t do it. Tears streamed down my face and he pulled at my hair, hurting me. He called me names, but I couldn’t do it.

When he realized I wouldn’t do what he wanted, he pulled out of me and went to the table. There were all sort of belts and paddles and he hit me with everything he could find. He kept telling me he couldn’t wait to fuck me, that he wanted to see me bleed.

I was already a wreck by the time he forced me to the bed. I don’t know how much time had passed, but I knew there was still too much time left with him. I tried to bear it. I tried. But when he shoved his fingers inside of me, I didn’t bleed. I didn’t gasp. I just lied there and took it.

He knew.

“You’re not a fucking virgin. Why the fuck aren’t you bleeding?”

“I ride horses,” I tried to tell him, but he knew.

“You fucking whore. You dirty cunt. I am going to fucking kill you.”

I really thought he would. He shoved his fingers deeper while he kneed me, and I couldn’t breathe. I don’t know if anything was broken, but it hurt. He kept hitting me, and I was positive he would kill me. I looked to the stand by the bed, and saw the panic button. Zane had said to press it if it got out of hand.

With the little strength I had left, I pressed it, and that was all I remembered before the darkness came.

I shiver, thinking about it. I don’t know if I’m safe. I’m in a grungy motel room, I think.
What if Zane returned me? What if he sold me to R, because I didn’t do what I was supposed to? What if, by trying to trick them, I got myself killed?

I try to stand, but my legs are weak. I look down and see the bruises. I’m black and blue, and my ribs hurt. I fall to the ground as I try to make it to a shower, to clean up.

Lying on the floor, I whimper, waiting for what will come. I’m so scared.

When the door opens, I panic, but I can’t move. My body refuses to move, no matter how much danger I’m in. Zane kneels in front of me, and lifts me to the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “What happened?”

“I wanted to take a shower. Where am I? Did you sell me to him?”

“R?”

I nod and he shakes his head.

“I killed him. I killed him, for you. I couldn’t let him do it. I walked in and you were unconscious, and I saw that he was going to do it anyway. I shot him, Nichole.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, and try to keep my eyes open, but everything hurts.

“We’re in danger now. I’ve done a very bad thing, Nichole.”

“Willow,” I say, and succumb to blackness again.

HIM

…

We have twelve more hours, at most. He already should have left, and the other girls are going to come looking for me. By the time they realize I’m gone, and by the time his driver returns to pick him up, it will not take long until they put it together. I used a fake name and the kid at the counter didn’t look like he cared. He didn’t even glance at my license, which is why I chose this place. I need to get rid of my car, and get Nichole to a train or bus station so she can get far away.

I hate to wake her, since she’s struggling, but she needs to get cleaned up. I picked up hair dye and it says it works fast. I hope so, because time is running out.

I give her another thirty minutes to sleep, and then I stir her. She blinks and looks confused, memory slowly slipping back into her mind. Her eyes grow wide.

“They’re going to come after me,” she says.

I nod. “And me. We need to get you into a shower and then dye your hair. I got us both a change of clothes. I took whatever cash we had in the safe, which is a lot, but we’re not going to have much time. We need to get far away, as soon as possible.”

“I need help,” she says. I let her lean on me as we walk to the shower, and I strip her robe off. The bruises are already yellowing and I cringe. If I could go back and kill him again, I would.

I help her wash up and then dye her hair while she sits on the toilet. While it takes, I shave my own. She looks at me, a little said, but it has to be done. By the time her hair is colored and we are ready to go, I’m hopeful, and exhausted.

It’s a while to the train station, but I don’t want to leave the car there. Instead, I call a cab to pick us up at a diner we passed on the way here, and park in the lot to wait. We leave everything behind and get in the taxi, hoping there is still time.

There are plenty of trains leaving, even though it’s a suburban station. I realize I have no idea where home is for her, and I turn to face her.

“Where are you from?” I ask.

“Outside Atlanta.”

“So… where to?”

She looks at the upcoming departures. DC, Chicago, Philadelphia, Detroit.

“Detroit.”

“Why Detroit?”

“Because no one goes there,” she answer simply.

And so I buy us two tickets to Detroit, help her into the train car, and let her fall asleep against the window, as the train eventually leaves the station. I have no idea what will be ahead of us, but I don’t doubt that no matter where we go, someone will be looking.

Her

…

Detroit is an ugly city, a city of death and decay. However, it seems like a good place to disappear, and when we step out of the train station, I look to Zane and take his hand.

“Nichole, I’m sorry I even got you in this mess.”

I shake my head. “It’s Willow now, isn’t it?”

He looks sad. “I don’t think you can use either. Time to start new?”

I nod. “Sonya.”

He laughs. “Sonya?”

“I always thought it was pretty. And you’re Griffin.”

“Okay, Sonya.” He shakes his head and takes my hand. Even in the despair of the city, I think maybe we will be okay. If we never look back. If we keep running. Zane has enough cash to rent us a place for a month and we find something quickly. It’s an ugly triple decker and it’s not on a safe street, but I have no intention of leaving. The anonymity of the area is actually what we need right now.

It’s furnished, but the furniture is worn, ugly. The entire place smells like smoke and rot. I think about my life, about who I was. It feels like something I read in a book, not this, and I realize it’s probably only been a couple days. How did things get so out of hand so fast?

“I need to know, Zane. What are we facing?” I ask him.

He sits on the couch, and a gathering of dust shoots up from the cushions. He coughs and pats the cushion next to him, sending up a smaller plume. “It’s complicated.”

“I figured.”

He begins to tell me his story, and he talks about Bella, the girl he loved. He talks about his anger at women, his frustrations with his job, realizing he needed to take anything – and the opportunity that came up.

“I was angry, and I was broke. At first, I felt nothing for the girls, but when they began to send me photos of girls who were fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, I drew the line. I didn’t care about them necessarily, but they were children. So I told them our establishment would only be for legal girls.”

“Legal girls you paid to abduct,” I point out.

“Nichole, sex trade is going to continue. Even now. Even without me. The men who do the dirty work, the men we buy from? They are not associated with me, or my colleagues. They don’t send me the young ones, but that doesn’t stop them from taking them. They just find someone with less scruples on the other end. The same goes for the clients. If we closed the house, if I let every girl go, even if someone would not hunt you all down to kill you before you talked, those men? They have money. There is always someone willing to take money, and they will do whatever they need to.”

“So there are other houses? In New York?”

“I know of over a hundred in the New York area. Houses, rings, whatever. And that’s just one city. In one country.”

“But where do you get all these girls?”

“Where did they get you? A club? A beach?”

“A club.”

“They find women when they’re vulnerable. A few drops of something in a drink, and the girls wake up elsewhere. They generally find a buyer first, in order to minimize the time the girl is captive, because each group works in the same region, and the less they can be tracked, the better.”

“They found you before?” I’m surprised.

“They took your picture?”

I remember it. So that man… he sent my photo to Zane, who in turn, what? Decided I was a worthy investment?

“Then what?” I ask.

“I knew you would sell. I had you up on the website and R’s bid won within a few hours. He paid more for you than any girl I’ve seen in my time doing this.”

“You have a website? Wouldn’t someone track it?”

He shakes his head. “I just run the house. I’m the little guy. There are men in charge. I don’t know who most of them are. It’s a business, and they don’t tell us who’s at the top. Information and money comes from them, and I return it to an associate of theirs.”

“If you don’t know who they are, how will we be sure they’re not tracking us?”

He takes my hand. “We won’t be.”

HIM

…

I watch her while she sleeps. I want to take care of her, to make things okay, but what happened with Reagan… although she’s physically strong and survived it, and he never actually got to do what he wanted, I imagine the emotional trauma will be great.

I want to touch her, to comfort her, but I worry she’ll flinch from my touch, afraid, angry. Instead, I look after her, and try to figure out how we can stay gone forever. If we could start over, just us… maybe she could love me. Maybe I could love her. Maybe we could survive.

Her eyelids flutter when she wakes and she smiles. “Griffin.” It’s a ridiculous name, but it makes me happy that she wants me around to give me a name.

It’s stupid of me. I should have put her on a train somewhere, let her disappear, and taken my punishment. I could have made something up, said she ran, said I shot him and chased her. But I didn’t. I followed her, making her more of a target now. Because they will find
me
. They didn’t even know her name.

“Good morning,” I say. “We should eat something. You haven’t eaten, other than those crackers on the train.”

She’s already weak from the attack and I know she’s nauseous from the memory, but she needs her strength.

“Bring me something,” she requests.

“I need to leave, go to the corner to get food. Will you be okay?”

She looks nervous, but nods. I know she’s worried I won’t come back. I don’t think they could have tracked us this fast, and I’m trying to stay off the grid to make it harder, but you never know.

“I promise I will come back,” I tell her. “What do you want?”

She shrugs. “Anything. Just come back. Please.”

I almost kiss her goodbye, but we’re not a couple. This isn’t love. This is stupidity.

Taking my key, I walk to the store. The neighborhood is rough. Many of the houses are boarded up, although a couple are serving as crack houses. It could be good for us, since we will blend in, but it also means everyone around here is used to violence – and if someone comes for us, we’re on our own. No one is calling the cops here.

The store isn’t very well stocked, but I manage to get the basics. Bread, water, milk, peanut butter, cereal, and some snacks. I hesitate, and grab beer as well, because Nichole might need a drink at this point. The cashier doesn’t look at me and I take my bag back to the apartment.

Nichole is up and dressed, washing dishes. “They looked a little grimy,” she explains.

I show her what I got and we settle down for our first meal together. Raisin bran, toast, and water. I forgot to get butter or jam, so the toast is plain.

“I did a pretty bad job,” I say as I watch her eat her toast.

“It’s food. That’s good enough.”

We eat in silence, and I want to ask what happened. What she remembers. But I don’t want to remind her, either. She looks at my expression and I think she knows what I’m wondering.

“He hit me. A lot. He realized I wasn’t a virgin, and he threatened to kill me. I tried not to ask you for help. But he would have killed me, Zane.”

I nod. “I know. It’s okay. We were stupid. I shouldn’t have-”

She reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine. “I wanted to. And I’m glad you did. I couldn’t have. He was awful. It would have ruined me. I’m scared, and I don’t want to be in this mess, but I’m so happy it was you, Zane. And when I’m better, I hope you’ll do it again.”

“I’m in deep, Nichole. I’ll do anything for you.”