Fractured Future (Anaconda Tales #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

DESTROY ME – YOUNG LIONS

EMBER

Most first dates don’t end in a kidnapping.

Until then, I thought he was pretty cute.

I once read that there are roughly one hundred thousand victims of human trafficking in the United Kingdom alone. Scary stuff, right? I guess we’ll never truly know how many people live unseen in society’s shadows under someone else’s bondage.

When I read that statistic on a late-night deep dive into the world of true crime documentaries, I didn’t believe it. Those words are strewn throughout scaremongering news reports, but does it really happen on our doorstep?

My already-swollen lip splits open when the bald-headed brute looming above me throws a punishing backhand. Yep. It fucking happens, Ember. I’m living proof of my own ignorance.

White-hot pain burns a path through my veins, spreading a poisonous lava that fills every last sense. But at least when they’re hurting me, I can feel my extremities. My fingertips. My toes. Each cold, naked limb, caked in dirt and blood.

I have proof that I’m still alive.

They haven’t taken my life from me yet.

It’s far worse when they move us, whether from the subzero shipping container filled with the scent of human waste or the convoy of tinted vehicles we’ve been transported in since then. We’re all loaded with sedatives on those days.

“Put it on!” Diego barks, tossing a hot-pink bra and panties set at me. “You’re coming with me.”

“Fuck. You.”

Peering through my throbbing black eye at the asshole trying to intimidate me, I gather moisture in my mouth to spit directly in his ugly face. My saliva is red-stained, hitting his cheek.

“What was that?” he yells in my face.

Licking the coppery dribble spilling from my mouth, I refuse to look away. We’ve been down this road several times. He threatens, I taunt, something breaks. I still haven’t learned how to shut up.

Taunting this motherfucker won’t get me out of here, but after laying in the damp darkness listening to other women sob all around me, I’ve lost all sense.

Now I’m fucking angry.

And I want them to know it.

“Are you deaf?” My mouth stretches in a semi-sane smile. “I said fuck you.”

“You really are the dumbest bitch.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Diego’s wrinkled face flushes purple. “How many times do I have to tell you to shut your mouth?”

Rage is a welcome heat curling around my bones. One that keeps my blood circulating and heart pumping. Without a single possession, scrap of clothing or clue where I am, all I have is a blanket of anger to wrap myself up in.

“Try it once more?” I blink innocently.

“If that’s what you desire.”

“Come on! You piece of shit!”

Excitement shines in his cruel black eyes. I hate the way my fresh blood coats his gnarly knuckles, but I’ll never admit that to him. He’d enjoy that knowledge far too much.

Despite feeling dizzy and weaker than a newborn baby from being half starved, I manage to duck his first swing. I’m thankful we’re no longer tied up like we were before being tossed in the metal cages.

At least in these makeshift prisons, lined up in what seems to be a subterranean warehouse, I have a fighting chance. The swaying shipping container and constant screams we endured before almost broke me.

Almost.

“Stupid slut!” He viciously catches a handful of my greasy, dyed blonde hair. “You need to learn when to admit defeat.”

“I wasn’t taught to give up,” I garble.

“Then allow me to teach you!”

Misjudging his next move, I don’t avoid the thick fist sailing straight towards my face. The impact hits hard—my teeth snapping together, vision blurring and more warm, tangy blood filling my mouth.

Quakes ricochet through me as something in my cheek audibly cracks. The explosive aftershock reverberates, my bones grinding together with an awful crunch.

There aren’t words to sufficiently describe the white-hot, liquid fire stabbing into my tissue, igniting nerve fibres into a vision-blackening pain that rivals any punch I’ve received before it.

“Not such a smart mouth now. Are you?”

I choke on a strangled sob. “F-F-Fuck!”

“That’s it.” He wipes his knuckles off on his filthy black jeans. “Show me those tears.”

“Leave her alone!” someone else screeches.

“Shut it, bitch,” he fires back.

I don’t know all of my fellow captives. There are too many tearstained faces, contorted with terror, for me to memorise. At least thirty women of varying ages, builds and ethnicities. A veritable smorgasbord of unwilling victims.

“That’s what I thought.” Diego’s gaze refocus on me, boiling with hatred. “Your mouth is giving these sluts the bravery to speak to me.”

All I can muster is a broken whimper.

“Do I have to beat your ass in front of them?”

I won’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“I’ll happily do it,” he adds, lips curling in a grin. “With pleasure.”

My life back home feels like a million miles from this soul-crushing low. I don’t know how long I’ve been missing. Hours. Days. Weeks. Perhaps even months. A lifetime could have passed.

Time is only marked by the fading and inflicting of more injuries. For each new bruise, cut or scrape, another strike is etched onto the walls of my mental cage.

I count my survival in each beating that I outlive. For every drop of blood slicked across their fists, I buy myself another hour. Another day. Another breath. Perhaps if I buy enough time, I will find my way out of this nightmare.

“Got nothing to say to me now?” Diego jeers.

“N-No,” I sniffle.

“Time to get dressed then. We have somewhere to be. Perhaps you’ll learn to keep your stupid mouth shut in the future.”

Diego is one of the few men who doesn’t wear a mask. He’s overweight, his rounded belly testing the boundaries of his jeans. While he screams at us in English, his voice has a slight exotic twang.

Our captors are all the same. Violent. Sadistic. Merciless. Well-tanned with accented voices, wearing the same nondescript uniform: basic and dark enough to hide the bloodstains.

He picks up the skimpy bra and thong that started this fight then waves them in my face. “Dress.”

“Fuck you!”

“Once you meet the customers out there looking for a piece of your ass, you’ll wish it was me fucking you.”

Pushing my shoulder, he roughly shoves me to the hard cage floor. I have to bite down on my tongue to hold a cry inside, the sudden movement jolting my new injuries.

“You have two minutes, or I won’t hesitate to break your leg next.”

The lingerie lands on the floor before the cage door slams shut. The sound of the lock clicking rattles throughout the gloom, causing a chorus of whimpers and cries from the others held captive all around me.

“Two minutes,” Diego repeats over his retreating shoulder. “Pull yourself together, bitch.”

Can’t wait.

Letting my limbs go loose, I go limp on the floor. Frigid cold leaches into my bones, freezing my naked body. The pain in my face is so fierce, I have to pant for air through clenched teeth.

When I was studying for my license to qualify as a personal trainer, I took a self-defence class with an overzealous instructor. He was a misogynistic asshole who should’ve been sacked.

The pain of the broken nose I gained in an accident there didn’t hurt half as badly as this does. Nor did the hours-long screaming match that followed with my stupidly overprotective older brother, Tom.

Still, I’d take his worried ranting giving me a migraine over this hell any day. In fact, I’d give just about anything to see him one last time and accept one of his big hugs.

“You shouldn’t taunt them,” Gracie whispers to me. “You’re only making it worse.”

“I’ll taunt them until they cut my fucking tongue out,” I wheeze, testing how much I can move my mouth. “I’m not going to lay here and take their abuse.”

At sixteen years old, she’s blue-eyed, dark-haired and full of heartbreaking innocence. We were taken from the same vicinity. Gracie was tied up in the moving van when I woke up after being drugged.

Our shared horror when our tear-logged eyes met formed a deep trauma bond. I even held her close in the echoing metal prison we were thrown in, keeping her warm with my own body heat.

She follows their barked commands without a hint of hesitation. I understand why. Gracie can’t handle the daily terror or their leering stares. Her mind is shattering, and I don’t blame her.

Fighting back is the only thing keeping my sanity intact. The moment I give up, I know the widening fissures in my mind will grow into deep crevasses that will swallow me whole.

“They stole us from our lives,” I say through calming breaths. “Like we’re nothing more than cattle to be shipped from place to place. I refuse to make their jobs easier for them.”

I hear movement from inside her cage, the iron bars revealed by light emanating from ancient bulbs high above us.

“What about when you get killed? When they hit you too hard one day?” Her little voice trembles with terror. “Who will I have then?”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“You can’t promise that. We were taken for a reason, Ember. They won’t keep us in these cages forever.”

She’s right.

I knew it the moment I woke up gagged and bound.

The man who arranged my kidnapping, Charles, was smart. We were far from the prying eyes of Liverpool’s city centre where we met for drinks. I never should’ve agreed to go back to his apartment.

But he had seemed so normal. Plain. Workaday. Perfect for a quick fuck followed by an easy goodbye—the only kind of relationship I have time or energy for. I knocked back my vodka martini and pretended to laugh at his jokes until he invited me back to his place.

The concrete-paved streets turned blurry before we reached his apartment. If that’s even where he was taking me. I can only assume that boring ‘Charles’ isn’t even his name.

He played a role. Providing a false construct while truly being a middleman with a dangerous secret. The kind who adorns his dates in handcuffs and gags before driving them to the coastline to be shipped off.

One spiked martini and the promise of an easy lay. That’s all it took to land me in the pages of a news story that you read over the safety of fresh coffee in the morning.

“Ember.” Debbie’s older voice emanates from behind me. “Just put it on.”

“You first,” I scoff.

“I’m not the one they’re prepping to ship off.” She coughs wetly, the sound rough and guttural. “You’ve caused them too much trouble.”

God, if there weren’t metal bars keeping us apart, I’d slam my fist into her face. From the glimpses I’ve gotten, she’s one of the oldest women here, and she has no shortage of unhelpful opinions.

“She’s right.” Layla sounds weaker than ever from her cage several metres away. “Don’t f-fight them.”

Nausea swirls in my belly. Three masked men used a baseball bat on her not long after we arrived then laughed as they forced themselves into her, making us all watch.

Humans have a way of getting used to suffering. We adapt. Become complacent. Stronger . Our survival instincts kick in. Every single one of us has endured this long by tuning out each other’s torture.

“Ember,” Debbie hisses. “Look at me.”

Biting back a groan, I twist my pulsing head to see her dimly-lit cage. She’s tucked into the farthest corner, her bony knees pulled up to her chest to hide her bareness.

“Wear the panties, and go with them.” She drops her voice lower. “You’re not getting out of here if you’re locked in this cage.”

“What?”

“You heard me. This is your chance to do something.”

Prickly surprise washes over me. “I thought you wanted me to be all quiet and shit?”

“I never said that.” She sucks in a breath. “Go with them, find an opening, and give them hell.”

“They’ll kill me!”

“You’re going to die anyway if you sit here.”

Not a single one of the guards has slipped up when I aggravate them. Not long enough for me to make an escape. If I’m going to get out of here, it won’t happen behind these bars.

“You’re the only one strong enough to do it,” Debbie adds, keeping her words hushed. “Just don’t forget about us.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Something. Anything.”

The risk is an unspoken weight in her voice.

Or die trying.

But I can’t die here. Not like this. I have to get back to Tom. To my business. To the life I’ve worked so hard to build for myself. This can’t be how my story ends.

“If I don’t come back…” My throat dries up. “Look out for Gracie?”

She ducks her chin, staring at the blood streaked over her legs. “I can’t even protect myself.”

“None of us can, but you have to try. Promise me.”

After a long beat of hesitation, Debbie reluctantly nods. I nod back, the movement causing my injuries to flare. But I don’t have time to sit and wallow. He’s coming for me.

Gingerly lifting myself, I lightly poke my face again. My cheekbone definitely feels broken. It takes all my willpower to hold a cry inside as I reach for the discarded bra and panties.

The thin lace is so cheap and plasticky, it will offer little coverage. My black and blue frame trembles as I slide the lingerie on, stopping several times to blink aside the dizzy fog that’s descending.

“I’m going to go with them and find a way out of here,” I announce loudly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Someone has to.”

Exhausted voices whisper through the din, murmurs of terror and anxiety. Not everyone is lucid enough to respond. Several cages remain silent, their occupants lost to a catatonic state.

A shuffle comes from the adjacent cage.

“No!” Gracie cries. “Please don’t leave me here.”

“It’s going to be okay. You’re not alone.”

“B-But… Please, Ember. I need you to stay.”

“I have to do something. Diego is coming for me.”

“But I’m scared.” Her voice sounds thick with tears. “What if you don’t come back?”

“Take a deep breath for me.”

Snapping the bra into place, I shuffle across the floor to reach the side closest to Gracie’s cage. Even though I can’t reach her, I have a better view into her shadowy cell.

Similar to Debbie, she’s curled up in a ball, only slumped on the concrete instead. If I couldn’t see her shivering, I’d think she was already dead. I can just barely make out her sweet, tear-streaked face.

“Listen to me. I need you to be strong.”

“I’m so tired.” She shakes hard, more tears slipping over her hollow cheeks. “So hungry.”

“Think about home, Gracie.”

Her rocking pauses for a brief second. “Home?”

“Yeah. Home.”

“I… I c-can’t remember what it looks like.”

“You told me all about your two little sisters, remember? Annie and Gabby. And your mum’s homemade baking? Think about those oatmeal cookies. You made me hungry just by describing them.”

“Annie,” she mumbles through her folded arms. “I think I remember her. Those cookies… They’re the best.”

“You’re going to eat them again soon with your little sisters.” My broken heart twists, filling me with anguish. “We didn’t go through hell just to die now, did we?”

The silence from the other women being held with us is deafening. It’s like they can taste the lies I’m feeding the terrified teen to keep her from shutting down. Maybe it would be kinder to let her soul die.

Just as her breathing starts to even out, the sound of a door clanging open marks my doom. Diego is back to see if I’ve complied with his demand.

“Keep breathing for me,” I say in a rush, dragging myself into position. “I’ll be back.”

“No!” She suddenly jerks upright, her face red from sobbing. “Don’t go with them!”

The wide shoulders and bulging belly of my tormenter return. Only he’s packing this time and has company with him. Two other men, both wearing woven balaclavas, follow close behind him.

They too carry weapons strapped to their hips. I’ve only seen guns once. It was when we were marched through the windswept night over to a shipping container already full of gagged women.

One girl made a run for it before our kidnappers could load me and Gracie inside. She almost made it to the end of the rain-soaked dock before a masked man shot her in the kneecap.

I can still remember the bloodcurdling scream she unleashed. The high-pitched shriek nearly burst my eardrums when the men proceeded to beat her. Silence came when her carcass was tossed into the sea.

“Learned your lesson?” Diego bellows at me.

I lean against the cage bars to hold myself still. “Hardly.”

“Your face begs to differ. Looks awful sore.”

Teeth gritted, I don’t take the bait. He’ll only break another bone.

“Are you going to come quietly this time?”

Silent, I nod in response.

“Well, isn’t this a turn of events. Wrists up then, whore.”

Hold it in. Hold it in.

If I play the game, I’ll get my opening.

The inflamed circles that mark my wrists become clear when I hold them up. He unlocks my cage, skulking inside to bind me in a pair of black handcuffs. The cold metal bites deep into my wounds.

“Keep that mouth of yours shut too,” he growls in warning. “The boss ain’t as forgiving as I am.”

“Is this forgiving?” I can’t help but snark. “You broke my fucking cheekbone.”

Grinning, he trails a fingertip over my face. “Could’ve been worse.”

Hauling me by the chain that connects my cuffs, I’m pulled from the cage. Each tug adds to the furious bonfire turning my innards into a furnace, but I wrestle with the red haze to keep a level head.

I’ll bide my time. Allow them to think I’ve given in to their taunts. When I’m above ground, I can make a plan.

Before I’m escorted from the dank expanse, a shout freezes my blood.

“And her. She’s been requested for this auction.”

“No,” I gasp in horror.

Diego’s staring right at Gracie. Her puffy blue eyes fill with burgeoning horror when she realises he’s talking about her.

“Our customers enjoy unspoiled products.” His disgusting breath tickles my earlobe. “She’ll be snapped right up.”

“No! Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Oh, I won’t. That’s what the auction is for, carino .”

Despite kicking and thrashing with every ounce of strength I possess, I’m still pinned tight by the handcuffs. The other men prowl towards Gracie’s cage, unlocking the bars to enter.

“Stop! Leave her alone!”

“Now, now.” Diego laughs, still lording himself over me. “I’ll make sure she goes to a good home. They’ll break her in nicely.”

“No! Gracie!”

Attempting to wrench myself free, the twinge in my shoulder transforms into an intense burn when the muscles strain. Still I buck and thrash, searching for any escape.

They can’t take her. Not a chance. I’ll rip myself in half and carry my severed limbs with me if that’s what it takes to reach her cage and protect the poor girl.

Frantic shouts and cries form a sick harmony all around me as the other women watch the unfolding scene. The two men have picked up Gracie’s arms and legs, but she’s jerking between them to shake herself free.

“We’ve got a wriggler, boss.”

“Then teach her to behave!”

The second man momentarily drops her feet so he can snap out his curled fist. She’s unprepared, the impact landing with a hollow crack that causes blood to explode from her nose.

Just the sound of Gracie screaming is enough to tear at those widening fissures in my mind until I’m barely hanging onto my sanity.

“Gracie,” I screech, now overflowing with panic. “Stop. Don’t fight.”

I can see how weak she is from being starved. Another punch like that and she may crumble into dust.

“No!” she howls through pouring blood. “I want to go home!”

“Just do as they say!”

Her small, bird-like limbs finally go limp between them. They adjust their grip as they carry her ahead of us, leaving Diego to drag me behind. His chuckling feels like needles stabbing into my brain tissue.

“She looks up to you,” he hums. “Perhaps I’ll make you watch when she’s packaged up and shipped off. Make you understand who’s in charge around here.”

The red haze intensifies.

“I’m going to kill you.”

He guffaws loudly. “Sure.”

“You can watch while I cut your dick off for hurting her.”

Yanking me into his side, the stench of his sweat and cheap aftershave creates a noxious cloud.

“As entertaining as this is, we have somewhere to be. Shut up and smile, or else I’ll fuck that tight asshole of yours until you can’t walk straight.”

I seal my lips shut while we ascend, leaving the greyscale gloom behind. Small details enter my awareness as we enter a cluttered space above ground.

Two wooden desks, overloaded with scattered paperwork. A half-full bottle of tequila. Overflowing ashtray. Next to a gun holster, there’s an outdated mobile phone.

These pigs are living like slobs. The air is so stiflingly hot, it causes sweat to dribble down my exposed spine.

We’re dragged across the office then through various rooms, all mirror images of the last. Cigarettes, booze, weapons. Bright lights blind me in the confusion after so long spent in half light.

Ascending another flight of stairs, I’m leaning heavily on the asshole yanking me along by the time we emerge into a room with tall ceilings, blacked-out windows and an array of widely spaced chairs.

At the front, a raised platform made from glossy, black wood boasts several floor-to-ceiling steel poles. We’re handcuffed to our individual poles when the situation becomes clear.

This is a viewing stage.

A place where cattle are paraded.

Each chair sits empty but will soon house an occupant with cash to burn and a desire to acquire new property. The living, breathing kind.

Head lolling forwards, Gracie spits blood on the floor. “Oh, God.”

“It’s okay. Breathe for me.”

“We’re going to be sold! That’s what this is!”

Dismissing his two men, Diego observes us from below, hands braced on his hips.

“You’re right, chica .” He chortles in amusement. “Now smile and behave. You’re going to make us a pretty penny.”

“Or what?” I challenge.

Hand moving to grip the weapon at his hip, he lifts a silvery brow. “Customers will still purchase you with a bullet between your eyes. Just think about the things they’ll do to your corpse.”

With a wink, he turns to leave the room. It won’t be long before their precious customers are escorted in. Frenetic energy clouds my thinking, throwing too many obstacles at me.

My head spins with dizziness as I flash between hot and cold. Pinned against a pole, I sag in defeat. Powerless to help Gracie. Powerless to do anything. I can’t run. Can’t hide. Can’t escape. And we’re out of time.

What was my fucking plan here?

Footsteps echo above us. Each thump feels like a knife being pushed into my gut, finding new organs to pierce and rupture. If we don’t die here, we’ll die soon enough once we’re sold.

The steps grow louder as company arrives with Diego. Several men are all dressed in varying degrees of finesse. Tailored suits. Pressed shirts. Gelled hair. Clearly wealthy.

Strolling ahead of them, the leader of the pack stands apart. He isn’t dressed to impress. His suit trousers have a dark-blue shirt tucked into them that’s rolled up to his elbows, showing a flashy gold watch.

“These are Assets 768 and 777?” His voice is cold and firm.

“Yes, Luis,” Diego answers him.

Unfriendly brown eyes sear beneath his black locks, the strands curling and hanging over his forehead. Tall and lanky, he’s slimmer than the men surrounding him but walks with obvious authority.

Luis.

He’s the boss.

“Gentlemen.” Luis halts in front of the stage. “These assets are a sample of our newer products. And 777 is unspoiled and available at an enhanced rate.”

Memories of the assessment we endured, one by one, to gain the information he’s rolling out in a marketing pitch push to the surface. I’ve refused to acknowledge them since enduring that traumatic experience.

“This one...” A heavy-set, older man wearing charcoal-grey looks at me. “She is a natural blonde?”

“No. We don’t believe so.”

Nodding thoughtfully, his beady eyes search over me. “Good. I deplore blondes.”

His focus causes my skin to crawl in visceral revulsion. He’s good looking for an older guy. Self-assured. Commanding. But that isn’t what provokes my unease.

Something incredibly sinister glistens in his gaze. The devil soul shines through his handsome looks. The way his lip curls in pleasure at seeing me, beaten and bloodied, is a screaming alarm bell.

“I will take a closer look.”

Luis gestures, causing the gold signet ring wrapped around his pinkie to twinkle. “By all means.”

The walking predator stalks towards me, leaving the other men to continue looking and quietly discussing. My muscles lock up as he climbs onto the platform to approach.

Evil drips from his gait, an invisible smog clinging to each silk-covered muscle. He must be in his late fifties, but his light, honeydew eyes are razor-sharp and full of calculating threat.

“Buenos días, senorita.”

Striding around me in a circle, he examines every inch of skin on display in the skimpy lingerie. Revulsion bubbles in my throat until it feels like I’m going to choke.

“They could’ve cleaned you up a little, hm?” he croons from behind me. “Sloppy.”

Moving in front of me, the sick fuck stares at me like I’m a shiny new piece of jewellery he wants to purchase and display.

“Luis.” He snaps his fingers. “Here.”

The boss purses his lips but doesn’t refuse the summoning. This yellow-eyed man holds even more power than I thought.

Luis climbs the stage to join us, gesturing for Diego and his two men to stay with the other customers. They’ve all moved over to the other side of the stage to take a closer look at Gracie.

“Yes, Mr Gael?”

“You know I do not purchase without a trial run. Especially at these prices.”

“Your last… ahem, trial run didn’t end so well for our product. We had to scrap the asset.”

I think my eyeballs might bulge out of their sockets.

“Nevertheless,” Mr Gael smoothly replies.

“But—”

“Do I need to call your father to inform him that his son denied my request? It’s no trouble.”

Jaw flexing, Luis flicks his eyes to me. “Very well. We have a room available. Diego, move Asset 768!”

Leaving the other sleazebags lingering, Diego hops up onto the platform while pulling my handcuff keys from his pocket. I grit my teeth in a tight clench when he approaches.

“Apologies for the state of this one.” He chuckles. “She’s caused us some trouble.”

Mr Gael musters a thin smile. “You could’ve avoided her face. But I do not mind a bit of spirit.”

“She has plenty of that.”

“Good.”

Diego stops behind me to unlatch my cuffs. Once unlocked, he leans in to whisper into my ear.

“Fuck around with this guy, and he’ll have a pistol rammed inside your tight snatch before I can find something else to break. Behave.”

As soon as my sore wrists are released, I slump forwards. All of my focus is on the sharks now circling Gracie with lascivious hunger behind their grins. I’ve got to do something. Anything .

Before Diego can re-fasten my cuffs to escort me to the room, I burst into action. No matter how suicidally reckless it may be. He howls when I snap a fist backwards to hit him in the face. The idiot must’ve thought he’d scared me into submission.

Without hesitating, I spin around to slam my fist into his temple, offering me a few precious seconds. I’ve snatched the gun from his holster in the time it takes him to refocus, quickly leaping several paces away.

“I’ll pass,” I snark back.

“Fucking puta !”

“You should’ve left me down there.”

“I’m going to ki?—”

Finger trembling on the trigger, I don’t think before squeezing as hard as I can. I don’t know shit about aiming, but the shot fires off in his direction. Those split seconds feel infinite.

“Argh!”

Diego slams a hand down on his left thigh where the bullet vanishes inside him, creating a bloody eruption. He crumples in half, howling through gaping lips.

I’ve barely swung the weapon around to aim it at Luis’s stunned expression when I feel movement, the displaced air warning me that someone has snuck up on me.

Pain flares behind my right knee from a brutal kick, causing my legs to buckle. Clattering to the floor, the gun slips from my hand, landing a small distance away.

I throw myself forward to recapture it, frantically scrabbling. My fingers brush the metal right before they’re crunched beneath a shoe sole, making a scream erupt from my mouth.

Wrinkled hands snatch the gun up, taking it out of reach. The foot squashing my hand twists, causing my bones to grind together. I cry out when it lifts, leaving my index finger bent at a crooked angle.

“You’re fast, senorita . Untrained, but fast.”

Hands seize my hips then roughly flip me over. My back smacks into the floor before a heavy weight straddles my waist. Hands move to trap my arms above my head.

I’m made to stare up at the embodiment of evil peering down at me with raised eyebrows. Intrigue has propagated into a look of fascination. And that’s far, far more petrifying.

“So much fire,” Mr Gael mutters, still looking over me. “What will we do with all that?”

“Get the fuck off me!” I screech maniacally.

“Hush. I’m thinking.”

“No! Gracie! I’m here!”

The heart-wrenching sound of her screaming my name through sobs is too much to take. Still, I can’t shake Gael off to reach her. For an older male, he’s unbelievably strong.

“I don’t have room for disobedient products in my business,” Mr Gael explains like we’re discussing a fucking car purchase. “Thankfully, I have multiple ventures, and I enjoy brave animals.”

“I am not an animal!” I spit at him.

His lips twitch in a smile. “You will be with a little training.”

“Let me go!”

Barking at his men who are moving to assist a semi-conscious Diego, Luis curses at the madness that’s engulfed the room. The other customers have scuttled far back now.

Yet he doesn’t seem surprised that Mr Gael is the one imprisoning me. With a head shake, Luis dashes over to us, his eyes now blown wide in concern.

“Antonio, please allow me to apolo?—”

“I’ll take her,” he interrupts.

Luis halts, his mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been a while since we had a product with a backbone. I have a use for her.”

“Well…”

“And it’s Mr Gael, Luis, as you rightly know. Enough bumbling. The others may fight over the weeping virgin. I’ve made my choice.”

Attention landing back on me, Mr Gael flashes white teeth that could be pincers for all the dread the sharp points inspire.

“You will be my new champion, 768.”