2. Cece
CHAPTER 2
Cece
A t the moment, I can’t seem to form words. I’m unsure if it’s because I’m in Carter O’Neill’s hands or because Sam Bones tried to snuggle up to me. Sam doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, so when he sat next to me with the contrived intent to escort me home, I knew he was lying out of his ass. Carter, on the other hand, has had my attention since our first meeting a year ago. He’s intimidating and calculating, always mindful of the people around him for any kind of betrayal, but in those same eyes, I recognize a loneliness that matches my own.
“Where are we going?” I ask quietly as he drives across the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Home” is the only response I receive.
I nibble my lip, wanting to ask more questions, but he’s obviously angry, and I don’t wish to end up on the receiving end of it. I get enough hatred from my mom at home; I don’t need any more from someone else I care about.
Leaning my head against the cool window, I stare at the water as we drive until my eyes get drowsy. I’m not sure how long it is before we arrive, but I’m startled awake by the sound of slamming doors and Carter’s raised voice.
I blink slowly, taking in my surroundings before getting out. I realize I don’t have much choice right now. He brought me here, and until he decides I can leave, I’m stuck. I’ve been here a few times, given my friendship with Della, but never without her.
“Della has gone to the cabin with Holy.” Carter seems to read my mind. Nodding, I prefer not to speak. I’ve been like that my entire life–mostly just observing the world around me. For the most part, staying quiet keeps me off the radar. “I have a meeting inside. I’d like you to join me.”
For the first time since arriving, I glance around the driveway and see three other parked cars and several men who look uncomfortable. Shrugging, I allow Carter to lead the way. Up the stone steps, through the iron door, and across cream-colored marble flooring into his office. A space I’ve never entered before.
“Sit.” He leads me to an alcove with a window and a bench seat, complete with pillows at both ends. “You have homework?” I look up at him then, his annoyed tone confusing me. He brought me here.
“An essay,” I reply.
It’s not technically homework but for my college applications. I hope to find a scholarship somewhere far away from my mother. Maybe in California or Washington.
Carter acknowledges me. “Get started. I’ll be right back.”
I watch him leave as I open my bag and pull out my dinged and dented laptop. It’s about five years past needing an upgrade, but I’ve never once thought about asking my mother for a new one. I was barely able to get this used one out of her, and only because my school at that time had offered to pay half because I needed it for schoolwork.
Opening the dinosaur, I wait for it to boot up before retrieving the document of the outline I need, and I begin typing. I hear male voices and easily identify Carter’s as he and two other men enter the office.
I pause before glimpsing up to find Carter, his assistant Kimbell–whom I’ve met twice–and a man I caught meeting with my mother several times over the last few months. I was never introduced, so I don’t know his name, but as he stops and stares at me, anger tightens the corners of his mouth.
“What the fuck is this, Carter? Why do you have her?” he shouts, causing me to flinch.
“You’d be wise to watch your tone around her.” Carter’s admonishment is deadly as he sits behind his desk, turning his chair slightly so he’s able to see me behind him as well. “Sit down and shut up, Alvin.”
The other man swallows frantically before doing as he’s told.
I ignore them again and return to writing my essay. Instinctively, I’m aware this meeting is about me. Nonetheless, I want no part of it.
“Let's cut to the chase,” Carter says, leaning back and relaxing, while I sense that he’s coiled as tight as a rattler, ready to strike. “What did you pay Melinda for the girl?”
My head pops up at that. Dismay snatches my breath as I attempt to process what Carter has said. Mom sold me? Like I’m a piece of property.
Turning to Alvin, I see the surprise in his eyes, even as he shifts with the shame of purchasing me.
“Is this really necessary?” Alvin asks, his eyes shifting between us.
Closing my laptop, I place it on the seat next to me and scoot forward, gripping the wood so firmly that my fingers ache.
“I think it is,” I hiss out, my voice shaking in outrage.
Alvin shifts uncomfortably again before looking to Carter, whose silence obviously bothers the older man. I don’t let him off the hook, though.
“What did you think you were getting by buying me? A meek little girl? Someone who would just lay there and take the disgusting demands you would surely make of me?”
Getting to my feet, I step forward, stilled by Carter’s hand on my stomach. The heat warms some of the coldness in my veins.
“Well?” he asks Alvin. “What were your expectations of my girl?”
My body jolts at the claim, but I remain immobile as we wait.
“Yo-your girl?” Alvin stutters, clearly confused and intimidated.
“For a year now,” Carter replies, sliding his hand around my waist to drag me into his lap. “It’s amazing the secrets a man can keep when no one is paying attention beyond their own wants and desires.”
My heart palpitates in my sternum as I settle into Carter’s hold with my legs across his, one hand on my back and the other holding me high on my thigh. Carter claiming me was not on my bingo card this year. A girl always has dreams of this kind of possessiveness from the man they’re interested in, but most of the time, it’s just a pipe dream.
“I didn’t know,” Alvin confesses.
“Shouldn’t matter,” Carter counters, lifting the hand on my back to play with the ends of my dull brown hair. “Human trafficking is illegal no matter how you spin it.”
The room seems to freeze as Kimbell steps closer to Carter and slides a gun with one of those silencers on the end across the desk to sit in front of him.
“Miss, if you’ll come with me.” I stare at Carter’s face as Kimbell offers an outstretched hand to me, expecting me to leave with him.
“No,” I mutter, fixing my eyes on Carter. “What are you going to do?” He still won’t look at me.
“What I have to.”
Kimbell gently takes my arm, pulling me along with him and out of the room. I want to protest, but then I catch a glimpse of Alvin’s face, the anger directed at Carter. The lust for me. And I realize, if not me, then another girl.
I’m able to leave with my head held high.