Under Your Care

Chapter ​19

Chapter 19

Lane

A few days after the visit from Greyson’s brothers, I went out for a walk by myself. Lately, Greyson had been encouraging me to get some fresh air while he was at work. It made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside that he trusted me to return. The sky was speckled with puffy, white clouds and the cool afternoon breeze smelled of spring flowers. It was the perfect day - in my opinion - to go to the nearby zoo. I had to walk a few blocks to get there, but I didn’t mind since it was such a gorgeous day. It was a weekday afternoon, so the city’s sidewalks were pretty much bare besides the occasional mom with a stroller or bustling, coffee-holding interns for the businesses nearby.

The zoo itself had hardly any visitors, although there were a few school groups roaming around. At one point, a child no older than six ran into me. The little girl had practically bounced off of me from the speed she had been running. Who I assumed to be either her teacher or a school volunteer gave me a sheepish smile as she corralled the tiny runaway back to the rest of the group.

I strolled casually along the paved walkways, stopping at each and every exhibit. I was definitely going to ask Greyson to come here with me on a weekend. I could probably convince him to wear one of those animal ear headbands they were selling in the giftshop. I giggled quietly to myself as I pictured my big, stoic man in fuzzy tiger ears. Almost like he knew I was thinking of him, he texted me.

Daddy: How’s the zoo, darling? Wish I was there with you.

Me: I love it! I was just thinking about having a date here!

Daddy: That date better be with me, baby.

Me: No, it’ll be with that guy I saw in the walk here handing out flyers. Lol, of course it would be with you, Daddy.

Daddy: I know, sweetness. Be back home by 5pm and enjoy the animals. Love you.

Me: I love you! See you soon 3

Putting my phone back in my pocket, I continued happily walking towards the next exhibit. Otters! I sat down on the stone bench in front of their habitat, watching through the clear glass as two chased each other underneath the water. I briefly wondered if Greyson would let me bring home an otter, but then rolled my eyes at myself - of course he would. I had to be really careful when asking him for things. Earlier this week, I’d asked if we could put in an order for Chloe’s favorite treats since we were starting to run low. Within hours, I opened the front door to two giant-ass boxes requiring me to use all of my body weight to push them into the apartment. There had to have been at least fifty pounds of Churu treats. All different flavors, of course. At least my cat wouldn’t have to go without treats in the event of an apocalypse .

He came bearing gifts every single time he returned home. Sometimes it’d be a pastry, sometimes it’d be another lingerie set, or expensive jewelry. When I had asked him about it - explaining that he didn’t need to keep bringing me home presents like a cat catching mice - he told me that he only brought home something if he was reminded of me while looking at it. How could I argue with that?

My thoughts were suddenly brought back to the present as a heavy hand landed on my right shoulder. As I was turning my head to see who the hand was attached to, I heard a voice that made my heart stop.

“Hey, Lane.”

My head froze mid-turn. I thought that if I just didn’t move, he would disappear or I’d wake up from a nightmare and be safe in bed with Greyson. My hands shook involuntarily. I held my breath, fear rendering me useless. If he was really there, I needed to run. I desperately willed my legs and feet to move, eliciting no more than a twitch of my left foot.

“It’s rude to ignore family,” he rasped in my ear. My mouth opened but no words came out. My mind screamed at me as I shakily looked over my shoulder. No.

I choked out, “How?” I stared at the grinning face of the monster I thought was dead and buried. No. My hand jerked back to grab my phone, but a distinctive click stopped its quest. No. I flicked my gaze to his abdomen, finding the muzzle of a handgun peeking out from underneath the hooded jacket he was wearing. My stomach dropped, my teeth clenched.

“Lucky accident, actually. Your hitman mistook my friend as me. Hopefully, you didn’t spend too much money on that,” he smirked sinisterly. My vision began to fog due to the lack of oxygen in my lungs. My body wouldn’t listen to me. “You remember, Jason, right? He used to play with us sometimes. We were chillin’ at my place, but I ran out of cigs. Came back and heard the commotion inside. Heard your name being used. I stuck around for a bit, but ran when that psycho lit up my trailer. I’ve just been laying low. Now, it’s my turn to get the run-up on you.”

“Tate, please… don’t do this,” I choked, wanting to simultaneously gasp for air, vomit, pee myself, and run. The muzzle of his gun disappeared back under his jacket as his grip on my shoulder tightened.

“Whines the bitch that tried to kill me. Nah… you deserve everything coming.” He yanked my frozen body up from the bench. My eyes watched the sweet otters in despair as he hissed in my ear, “You’re going to walk out of here with me - acting normally. One word and I will shoot you and anyone around.”

He pressed the gun into my side - still concealed by his jacket - and began to walk us to the exit. My feet obediently walked beside him, finally working but still not following my brain’s directions.

I didn’t cry until we had reached his car and he handcuffed my feet and hands. It wasn’t the gasping sob swirling in my chest, but just a lone tear trailing down my face. I made no noise, staring blankly at my lap. Anger battled grief and fear in my head. I wasn’t angry at Tate; I was angry at myself. I needed to fight back, to scream, to escape, but I just couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move more than a flick of a finger. More tears began to fall, but still no noise accompanied them. I continuously berated myself in my mind, furious that I was allowing this to happen. It was only when Tate’s car came to a stop that a shuddering gasp escaped. He laughed when he heard it.

Tate exited the driver’s seat and walked over to open the passenger side’s door. He grabbed me by the hair and drug me out of the car to what looked to be an abandoned barn. My scalp burned, and I was pretty sure he’d ripped some of my hair out. Rocks, branches, and rotted wood tore my clothing and cut into my skin. Once inside the structure, Tate threw my bruised body into a horse stall.

“Fucking whore. Better not be a waste of time,” he angrily muttered.

A drop of spit hit my cheek before he left and locked the stall behind him. My body had given up, but my mind was clinging onto the hope that there was some way out of this. Tate had taken my phone before we’d left the zoo, so I had no way to contact Greyson or call 911. I had stabbed a guy to death, seduced him to his demise. That wasn’t even that long ago! Surely, my life didn’t end like this, right?

Right?

Another wave of unwanted tears streamed down my cheeks.

???

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed while I laid in the dirt and dust of the horse stall. I was jerked out of a trance-like state by the sound of the stall’s lock rattling. Tate threw open the stall door. I stared back at him from my spot on the ground. He grimaced like he’d smelled something disgusting when he looked at me. Closing the door behind him, he sauntered over and stood above my body.

“We have a few more hours before the buyer arrives, so I thought we could have some fun together.”

I managed to whisper, “The buyer?”

A maniacal smile spread across his face at my question. “I’m pissed I didn’t think of this when you were still underage, because you get paid a hell of a lot more for kids. But, they gave me an estimate based on your pictures and it’ll work. Can’t be too choosy, can we?”

“You–”

Tate interrupted me, “I’m selling you. They’ll probably sell your organs once your hole is too worn out, but who knows. Won’t be my problem.”

No.

“I’d rather kill myself than be raped again,” I spit at him, surprising myself with being able to get out a full sentence. Tate scoffed as he rolled his eyes at my statement.

“I’m sure you’ll love being a real whore, whore,” Tate laughed. “Anyways, since we have a few hours to ourselves, I’m going to work all of my anger out on you.”

“Shouldn’t I be in good condition if you want to get paid?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving your money making areas untouched. That’s all that’ll matter,” Tate smirked.

The air was suddenly pushed out of me as he landed a hard kick to my side. I coughed while instinctively trying to curl in on myself. His stomp on my abdomen made that an impossible task. My lunch forced itself up from my stomach and landed on the dirt next to me. Tate laughed as he continued to kick and stomp. He spent extra time stomping on one of my ankles until he heard it snap. My resulting scream of agony seemed to delight him.

“Shit, I wish I could break your dick,” he chattered. “If I wasn’t going to get a fuck-ton of money selling you, I would totally keep you as a punching bag. This is fucking awesome. I’m so fucking hard, man. I wish I could just demolish that ass, but I don't want to damage the merchandise.” I recoiled when he began unzipping his jeans. “Gotta just make do with this.”

Tate pulled out his dick and began violently jacking it while standing directly above me. I rolled my head to the side so that I didn’t have to watch. Still, I could hear it. If I hadn’t already thrown up, I would have while listening to his grunts and the sounds of slapping skin. I braced myself - as much as my broken body would allow - when Tate’s grunts became urgent. As I felt the hot splatters of cum land on my chest, my mind finally gave up. There was no way out of this. Hopefully, I could get access to a razor or some pills or something once in the hands of my traffickers. As soon as I had the opportunity, I’d remove myself from the equation. It felt almost comforting that even though there was no way to run away or fight, I had an out. It was just…

Permanent.

After masturbating, Tate left the stall. I brushed a fingertip against the dirt, thinking about Greyson, my parents, Chloe, and Oliver. I wondered what my parents would be told about my disappearance. Hopefully, they would find my body quickly. I worried about them never finding out whether I was dead or alive. The years of waiting, hoping, searching. I would never wish that upon anyone.

I hoped Greyson would take care of Chloe. She had come to adore him, and I could tell she was growing on him. I wasn’t sure how Oliver’s future would turn out, but I hoped he wouldn’t find a way to blame himself for this. He was always too hard on himself. Soon, my eyes drifted shut; the pain fading away as I slipped into unconsciousness.