26. Myla
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ipace the length of this fictitious girl’s room, waiting to see what my fate will be so I can figure out how to escape. I’d climb out the window right now if David hadn’t told me the house alarm was on. Because I’m me, I didn’t believe him and tried the second he left the room. He wasn’t lying. An ear-piercing alarm sounded, and before I could swing a leg out the window, a bulky man was stopping me. Apparently, they have guards I failed to notice during my surveillance.
Still naked and unable to think straight from the pain, I lie down on the bed. Closing my eyes, I think about what David meant by him counting on me to fight back. Is that so killing me will be more fun? Or because he knows assholes who like to take what they want from unwilling women? Probably the latter.
Well, I hope they’re ready for the fight of their lives because I’ll bite, claw, kick, and do anything else necessary to protect myself. Hopefully, that won’t be until after this concussion passes and my arm heals a little. The door opens, and David walks in with the same guard who caught me climbing out of the window, and judging by the looks on their faces, I won’t get my wish.
“Get up. We need pictures,” David says.
“Why?”
“None of your concern. Get your ass up.”
“You’re literally going to be taking pictures of me. I think that makes it my business.”
He rolls his eyes and grabs my bad arm, making me cry out. “Okay, okay. I’ll get up.”
Gingerly prying myself from the mattress, I feel a little vulnerability peek out as he poses me and snaps pictures with a digital camera. Not knowing where these pictures might pop up or why they need them has my bravado slipping.
“Drop the arms. Your tits are your best asset,” he says from behind the camera. Meanwhile, the guard does fuck-all except stand there looking like he’s ready to make me follow any commands.
Dropping my arms, I suddenly find it hard to hold back tears. How can he do this? Seriously, how can he look at me and not see a person with family and friends, a brain that has valuable ideas, and a personality that’s unique to me? What happened to him to make him this way?
“Spread your legs a little. Give them a tease.” A devious smile creeps across his lips as I step one leg out. “That’s good. It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”
He doesn’t know how close to the truth he is, but at least at the ranch, I was making money hand over fist for what I showed my clients. Even more than that, I was giving them a human connection that a lot of them didn’t receive in their everyday lives. My clients cherished me, and they showed me respect, which is so much different than what’s happening now.
“What’s this for?” I ask, not expecting an answer, but he gives me one I wish I didn’t hear.
“I decided to sell you. Your youthful appearance and size make you valuable.”
“What do you mean?” My throat constricts, and one single tear falls down my cheek before I button the emotion back up. I can cry when this is over, but it won’t help anything now.
“I need to get rid of you since I don’t believe your story. The last thing I need is for the authorities to come knocking. So, I weighed my options.” He passes the camera to the guard as he lifts and lowers his hands in opposite directions. “I could kill you, which would ultimately solve my problem but obviously not bring me any benefit.”
“Or I can auction you off to some rich bastard who will eventually kill you. That choice will win each time because it solves my problem and pads my pockets.”
“Why can’t you keep me here?” I ask, knowing there’s a chance the club will find me. Judge wouldn’t think twice about giving up my secrets if he knew it would save my life, and I’m glad for it. I know he struggles with balancing his loyalties between the club and me. Soon, that won’t be an issue, though. If I live, he might never trust me again, and if I die. . . well, that’s self-explanatory.
“I don’t believe that no one knows where you are. It’s only a matter of time before people start looking, and I can’t have you here when they do.”
“I swear to God, no one knows. I’m a loner with mental health issues, which means I’ve chased away everyone who loves me. Now it’s just my cat and me, and he’ll never tell.” I hold my hands up in prayer. “Please. I can make you more money alive and working here than I can off one sale.”
He seems to ponder it, but in the end, he shakes his head, an urgency taking over his tone. “No. I think you’re lying and trying to stall, which probably means I have less time than I thought. I need you out of here ASAP. Come on. I’ll put you downstairs until it’s time.”
Just the thought of being locked up with those other girls sends chills up my spine. I feel horrible for not wanting to be near them, but it’s like looking at a future I don’t want. I’ll come back for them if I ever find a way out, but I can’t be down there.
“No, don’t make me go down there. I can wait right here,” I say as the guard grips my upper arm—thankfully, the one without a bullet wound—and pulls me toward the door.
“This room is reserved for the night.” He shrugs. “What can I say? The whole teenage stepdaughter fantasy is an oldie but a goodie.”
“You’re a sick fucking freak!” I shout, helplessness turning my sadness into rage. White hot fury numbs my pain as I lash out. I drop my weight, and the guard scrambles to get a better grip, but not before I can send an elbow right into his junk. He doubles over, losing his hold on me completely as I attack David. There’s no method to my madness, and I punch, kick, and scratch.
David shouts at the guard to get control of me, but he can’t stand upright yet. He underestimates how much I want to tear him limb from limb, but having a fierce attitude only gets you so far when you’re small, so all it takes him is one shove to send me flying through the air. I land on my ass. I’m not done, though. I jump to my feet and charge; this time, however, the guard stops me and pins my hands behind my back. I get a sick satisfaction to see claw marks running down David’s face.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” The force with which the words leave my mouth has blood rushing to my face, the veins in my neck pulsating, and spittle flying from my mouth. I’m so focused on delivering my message that I don’t notice the goon uncap a syringe. A sharp prick stings my neck, and I swat whatever it is away, but I’m too late. My limbs go weak, and my vision clouds. A warm rush of euphoria takes over my mind. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. All my cares, all my worries, seem to float away on a cloud. Or maybe it’s me who’s floating. Either way, I don’t care.
“Come on,” the guard spits out, capping the needle and tucking it back in his pocket.
“Where to?” I ask, my eyes growing more and more heavy as the seconds pass.
“Down the fucking stairs. Shit, why do these bitches get so stupid when they’re high?”
“I know you are, but what am I?” I lean into the big man. Someone must’ve put weights on my feet because those things aren’t moving.
“I deserve a raise.” Though he’s standing next to me, his words filter into my head as a faraway echo, which doesn’t make sense. He lifts my arm, and even though it’s my injured one, I don’t feel pain. Then something pushes into my middle, and I’m tipped upside down. Or is it the world that’s upside down? I can’t be sure.
Nothing makes sense, so I stop trying to think and just feel. With each step the guard takes, my body moves in a wave that reminds me of the ocean. I conjure up memories from when I was twelve and my parents took Tinleigh and me to California. We went to Disneyland, and I saw the ocean for the first time.
I giggle, remembering Dad with his straw sun hat. Tinleigh and I had brand-new matching bathing suits. Not bikinis like all the other girls had because it’s sinful to show your body. We developed early, so before we even hit teen years, we’d started our periods and had breasts.
When Dad noticed that boys and men were paying us attention, he scolded us and made us put back on our shorts and T-shirts. Boys and men can’t keep their thoughts pure when we’re flaunting our bodies in front of them, now, can they? It’s more sinful for us to tempt them than it is for them to have the impure thoughts. After all, they wouldn’t lust after us if we dressed modestly.
Back then, Tinleigh and I were so in tune, we could have a whole conversation just by looking into each other’s eyes, and I knew exactly what she was thinking as we drove home, holding hands and each other’s gazes.
“I just wanted to build a sand castle,” she thought.
“Me too.”
“Why are we in trouble for something those gross boys did?”
“Girls are more emotionally mature than boys, so it’s up to us to keep them from having impure thoughts,” I explain.
Her head tilted to the side, and her brows lifted as she thought, “That’s shit.”
I grinned at her use of a swear word, even though she didn’t say it out loud. “It was fun while it lasted.”
“Yeah, it was.”
That memory makes me sad, not only because of how warped and twisted my dad’s parenting was, but also because Tinleigh and I don’t have that kind of relationship anymore. If I was to look into her eyes right now, I wouldn’t have a clue what she was thinking.
When the guard bends over and drops me to the concrete like a sack of potatoes, I don’t bother holding back my tears. All my emotions, the good and bad, are amplified by a thousand and too big for me to hold inside. Why would anyone want to feel this way?
The lights go out, leaving me in such stark darkness that I can’t tell what’s real from what the drug is tricking my mind into thinking is real. Fear takes hold, and I scoot my ass along the concrete until I hit the back corner of my cell. In the black abyss in front of me, a demon claws its way out of the concrete and crawls toward me, snarling. Telling myself it isn’t real, I try to blink it out of existence, but it’s still there. Screaming, I kick my legs out and cover my face with my hands in sheer terror.
When nothing grabs me, I peer through my fingers, only to see another one flying over me, diving down like a hawk stalking a mouse. I fall to my side, getting lower to the ground, as if that would help. One evil demon after the next comes after me. Every muscle in my body is tense as I fight to beat them off.
“Shit. She’s having a bad trip,” someone shouts. “We need to restrain her before she hurts herself.”
I know the sounds I hear are supposed to be words, but they don’t register. The bright fluorescent lights kick on, and I think I’ll be safe now, but the demons are still there, and this time, they get me. My arms are held above my head, and my ankles are yanked until my legs are straight. I always knew I’d go to hell for the things I did, and I was ready to suffer that consequence, but I didn’t think it’d be like this.
I jolt upright, my forehead slamming into a solid surface. The demon’s grip on my wrists is suddenly gone as he cries out in pain, but I have no time to pause. I need to escape. With a burst of otherworldly strength coursing through my body, I lash out wildly with my legs, making contact with something fleshy. Miraculously, it works, and the demon’s hold on my ankles is released. Relief washes over me like a tidal wave. Thank fucking god.
“My nuts! She kicked me in the nuts,” the demon whines. Jumping to my feet, I run out of the cell and away from the evil. I take the stairs two at a time, pumping my arms and ignoring my protesting muscles.
The left. I need to run to the left. As I make it down the hall and into the kitchen, my head moves on a swivel, looking for my way out and away from the hell that awaits me. I hook a right at the end of the hall and yank the door open so hard, it bounces off the wall before nearly falling to my ass when I run right into another demon. Shit. How will I get away now?
“Fuck,” the demon curses, and then his hands are all over me, trying to get control of my flailing body. “What the hell? Myla? Damn it. Oh, fuck. We gotta get you out of here.”
“No! No! No! Let go of me. I’m not ready. Not ready.” I struggle, but most of my fight is gone; every last ounce of energy was exhausted downstairs.
Maybe this is how it was always meant to be. I did as much damage as I could to as many perpetrators as I could, but now, it’s time for me to rejoin my kind down under. I knew taking a life was wrong, and I did it anyway, so it’s where I belong. There’s no use fighting it.
Falling limp, I succumb to my future, allowing the evil creature to carry me to hell.