24. Isla
24
ISLA
T he dress is soaked with sweat, the fabric sticking to my skin like a second skin I can’t peel away. That crude man did not give me clean clothes like he said, so I put it back on. My body aches, bruises from where they shoved me around. I’m tired, but sleep won’t come—not with the way they’ve been treating me. I try not to think about it, but it creeps in anyway. I want to scream, but I can’t. I don’t have the energy.
The door slams open and one of the guards steps in, smirking. I’m shoved roughly to the side as he drops a plate of cold, congealed slop in front of me. “Eat, Princess,” he sneers, his eyes glinting with some sick amusement.
I don’t touch the food. I don’t want to, don’t even know what it is. But he’s waiting, watching me with a look like he’s expecting me to eat it, to beg for more. It’s disgusting. I don’t say anything. They call me ‘Princess’ like it’s some kind of twisted pet name, and I don’t know how to make sense of it. I’m not some pampered girl in a castle. I’m not some fucking princess.
The guard grabs my arm and jerks me back up to my feet when I don’t make a move. “You think this is a fucking hotel? Eat the food. You’re lucky we’re feeding you at all.”
His slap stings, and I stumble back, my cheek burning. Tears prick at the edges of my vision, but I blink them away. I don’t give them the satisfaction.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, my voice trembling despite myself.
He just laughs, a sound so cold it feels like ice. “You don’t have a choice. Eat, or you’ll find out how much worse it can get.”
I want to scream. I want to fight back, but I know it’s pointless. They won’t care. I’m nothing to them, just a piece of cargo they’re holding until they get what they want.
With a heavy sigh, I finally reach for the plate just to make them stop. I take a bite of the bread, and it tastes as awful as it looks.
“Good girl,” the guard mocks, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?”
I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t. The last thing I need right now is to give him a reason to hurt me more. Instead, I shove the plate away, the disgust rising in my throat.
"Don’t call me that,” I snap, my voice hoarse. “I’m not your fucking princess.”
The guard’s eyes darken, and for a second, I think he’s going to hit me again. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring at me with a sick grin. “You are whatever the fuck I say you are. Don’t forget it.”
He turns on his heel and slams the door behind him, leaving me alone again.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the shitty food, feeling more trapped than ever. And all I can think is, This isn’t going to end well .
The door opens, and two women step in. One’s young, probably around my age, but her eyes are old, tired. The other looks older, maybe mid-thirties, but she’s just as hollow. Both of them look at me, then at the wedding dress I’m still trapped in.
“Jaysus,” the younger one mutters, shaking her head. “Let’s get you out of that thing.”
I don’t protest. I’m too numb to care about anything right now. They’re gentle with me, like they expect me to break at any moment. They pull at the gown, untying it from around my body. I almost feel like I should apologize for being in the way, for being so weak, but I don’t say anything. I just let them.
The older woman helps me into a faded blouse and skirt. Neither of them speaks, just moving with practiced hands. The clothes are nothing—nothing compared to what I should have. But for now, it’s something. It’s better than that disgusting dress.
“You should eat something,” the younger one suggests, but her voice is small, uncertain. She’s just trying to help. I know that. But I don’t have an appetite. Not anymore.
I shake my head, the words thick in my throat. “Why are they calling me Princess?” I'm in a daze, haunted by the many, many warnings I was given to just stay with Declan. I wish now that I'd have listened to him.
The women exchange a glance. It’s hard to tell whether it’s sympathy or just exhaustion. They know what’s coming. They’ve been here far longer than I have.
The older one speaks, her voice low, barely above a whisper. “It’s what they do. Call you names, get you used to it." Her shoulder bobs, but the fear in her eyes betrays her. "Get you thinking you’re special, just for a little while, before they take everything.”
I sit there, frozen. I want to say something, but I can’t find the words. She must see it on my face because she steps closer, lowering her voice even more.
“They’re getting you ready,” she says, her face tight. “The doctor… the tests… They made sure you’re clean.” She flinches as she says it.
Clean? I want to scream, to fight, but all I can do is sit there, staring at the floor.
“Clean for what?” My voice cracks, but I already know why. My mind hasn't let me stop fearing the reason since that man touched me. The younger woman looks down, her face pale. She presses her lips together like she’s weighing something—whether or not to tell me the truth, whether I can handle it.
“They’re shipping you off soon,” she finally says. “To Europe. To a… a sex ring. They’ll sell you.”
A chill crawls down my spine, a spider ready to spread its venom into my body. The blood drains from my face. I feel like I’m choking, but I can’t breathe.
“No,” I gasp. “No… no, that can’t be…”
She doesn’t look at me. The older woman steps forward, pressing her hands into my shoulders, steadying me.
“It’s true,” she whispers. “They’ve done it before. Once they take you, there’s no getting out. They’ll keep you locked up… like an animal.”
The words hit harder than any slap they’ve given me. I want to break down, but I don’t. I can’t.
The younger woman looks at me, her eyes filled with pity, but it’s all she can offer. “There’s nothing we can do. Please, don’t make it harder. Don’t fight them.” I can see the genuine concern in her eyes, but it's too little, too late.
I feel like I’ve lost the ability to think straight. I’ve heard enough. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The room feels like it’s closing in on me, everything spinning too fast for me to keep up. My chest tightens, my heart hammering in my ears. I try to take a step back, but the walls feel too close, too small.
I can’t stay here. I can’t.
Without thinking, I rush toward the door, the need to escape drowning out every other thought. The door’s just within reach. I grab the handle, cold against my sweaty palm, twisting it, but before I can even pull it open, the door is shoved back in my face.
I stumble back, heart in my throat, as the men step in. They look at me like I’m a broken toy they’re about to put to use.
“Thought you could run?” the first one sneers, his smirk only growing wider when he sees the panic on my face. “Where are you going, Princess?”
My chest tightens, and I can’t get the air I need. They’re blocking me. Both of them, massive, like they’ve been bred for this. They’re not letting me out.
I want to scream. I want to fight, but my limbs feel like lead. My hands shake as I try to steady myself. The air feels suffocating.
When Sebastian steps into the room, the women scurry out. He nudges past his guards who stand over me menacingly and glower at me like rabid wolves being held at bay only by the Alpha who won't allow them to attack. And Sebastian knows better. At least I hope.
"Well, well… Miss Isla has a secret, no?" He chuckles a dark, sinister laugh that makes me break out in goosebumps. I hate it. I hate him.
"Go away," I tell him, fearing what the woman said is true, that he'll sell me into a sex ring and I'll never see my family again. Never seen Declan again.
"Oh, but you're much too precious now, Princess." He reaches up and touches my hair, and I feel like I may throw up on him. "The O'Connor heir? And what will Ronan think that his brother's child will be older than his own? We'll end up with another O'Rourke scandal, won't we?"
I narrow my eyes in confusion and shake my head. I have no clue what he's talking about. I don't have a secret. There is no heir. And why would the O'Connors need an heir? My father is a normal man…
"Please, leave me alone." My voice cracks as I speak, but he doesn't back off.
"Come now, you don't expect me to believe that look of ignorance. You mean to tell me you don't know you're pregnant?" He narrows his eyes at me, and my blood runs cold.
"Pregnant?" I touch my fingers to my lips and shudder. "No…" I shake my head and back away but find my back against the wall. My head swims, and I feel dizzy, like I may pass out.
"Yes, dear… Those routine tests tell me you're clean as a whistle, ready to spread that tight pussy for any one of my dear customers." He clicks his tongue. "We'll fetch a pretty penny for you when that belly is swollen. You'd be surprised how many men love to fuck a pregnant mare." The evil grin on his face does it.
My stomach lurches, and I throw up the bit of slop I just sucked down. Then I slide down the wall and curl around my knees as he continues to speak to me.
"I imagine Declan will be very angry to find out he's lost his wife and his child in one fell swoop…" He stares down at me and then kicks my ankle. I wince and tuck my legs in tighter, wanting to cry but having nothing left in me to produce tears. "You should sleep. I hear those shipping containers are awful… And such a shame beauty like yours will be lost on some fat bloke who pays me to bend you over. You could've just given my money back."
They march out and slam the door, and this time, I hear it click. There will be no more chances for me to escape, no more visits from kind women who can answer my questions. I'm as good as gone already, and that finally brings tears to my eyes as regret stabs into my heart like a knife.