Lost in the Chase

PROLOGUE

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

The metal bites into my wrist as I fight with the last ounce of strength left in my body. My skin is raw where the chains cut deep… blistered and torn, but I keep pulling. Keep struggling. Keep fighting.

It’s useless.

Duct tape seals my mouth shut. The bitter taste of glue clings to my tongue…

sour, chemical, vile as I try to scream.

But nothing comes out. Just muffled, desperate cries.

My legs are bound, rope cutting so deep it feels like it’s fused to my bone.

Every involuntary muscle twitch slices deeper, sending pain throughout my severed body.

The air is thick not just with mildew and humidity but with something darker.

Decay.

Secrets.

Death.

It clings to the walls, heavy and still, like the room itself is watching me, waiting to claim me as its next victim.

God, I wish I hadn’t seen it. I want to rip it from my memory. Burn it. Destroy it with my bare hands.

But I can’t.

Everything I saw completely shattered me. Crushed what was left of my soul and ground it into dust.

If I had just stayed home. If I had listened to her. If I had made my little brother fall asleep next to me on the couch, put on a movie, and held him tighter. Maybe none of this would have happened.

Maybe this wouldn’t be my final breath. My last thought of him .

I’m a terrible brother.

All I feel now is regret.

Because when I go, he’ll be alone.

My brother.

He’ll be dumped into the foster care system, left with no family. Just him and the aching memory of me and Mom. But who knows? Maybe he’ll get lucky.

Maybe he’ll end up with a good family.

One that gives him the kind of life we never had.

A future.

A sliver of hope.

Anything would be better than this.

The doorknob rattles.

A sharp clatter slices through the silence, electrifying my teenage nerves with panic. My entire body tenses in unfiltered terror. I stop breathing. My lungs seize. My heart slams against my ribs, like it’s trying to outrun death itself.

God, I wish I could escape.

Run straight to my brother.

Hold him. Tell him everything’s going to be okay.

Tell him we will be okay.

That Mom is just out late tonight… Even if she’s not. Even if we’re not.

The door creaks open, slow and deliberate, like the groan of a coffin lid waiting to bury me.

This is it.

Heavy boots scrape the floor. Slow. Measured. Almost predatory.

“All right, boy,” a voice growls with a Russian-accented, low and rough like gravel under tires. “What the fuck am I going to do with you? “A cloud of cigar smoke hits my face. It burns. Stings my eyes. Crawls down my throat like poison .

I shouldn’t be here.

I’m sixteen.

I should be in my room with headphones on, sketching out dreams I thought I had time to chase. Wondering what college I’ll get into.

What girl I’m taking to prom.

Worrying about my future… not fighting to survive.

But unfortunately, it looks like I won’t get that far.

The room is pitch black, but I can smell him. Sweat. Expensive cologne. Whiskey and leather.

The scent of cruelty, if it had a body. He steps closer. Too close. I can’t see his face, only his shape. Big. Solid. Menacing.

I brace for pain. A punch. A kick. The slam of a metal bat.

But it doesn’t come. Instead… he laughs. A slow, amused chuckle, like he’s flipping through options in his head. Like I’m not a person. Just a toy, he hasn’t decided how to break yet.

A hand grabs my collar and yanks me up. Hard and jolting, sending agonizing pain radiating through my sore body.

His eyes are soulless. Solid black. Black as oil, deep as the darkest ocean trench. My vision spins. Blood rushes to my head. I try to cough, but the tape turns it into a choking gasp.

“I was going to kill you,” he mutters, breath inches from my face, reeking of liquor and ash.

“But you know what?” A jagged grin slices across his face…

teeth too white, too perfect. Like they were stolen from someone’s corpse.

“You’re not bad on the eyes, son.” A chill needles down my spine.

It sinks into my bones, freezing me from the inside out.

No… No, please God no .

“I might have some use for you.” His grip tightens until I feel my collarbone creak. I’m a deer in a wolf’s mouth…There is nothing I can do or say to escape this fate.

My fate.

“You wanna see your brother again?”

I nod. Fast. Too fast. My body shakes with it. His fingers loosen just barely.

Then he leans in. His lips brush my ear, fear throbbing through my body.

“Then listen closely. You want to keep him safe? You want to provide for him? You want him to live another day?” The following words drip like venom, and I can’t help but shed a tear.

“You are going to walk down that hall. Take a left and you will see a red door. Go in… and you’ll know what to do.

” He chuckles again. It’s not even laughter.

It’s the sound of something inhuman, like he’s choking on his victim’s blood.

He leans in closer, voice slick with cruelty. “Oh, and son, think of it as a gift… from one man to another.” Then he shoves me back.

My knees slam against the floor. Pain radiates through my ribs. Please. Please let this be a nightmare.

“Do we have a deal, boy?” he growls, voice laced with venom. “You can take your mother’s place since she still owes me.”

I go still.

My mother’s place? What does that even mean? How long will I belong to him? What exactly will he make me do?

A heartbeat later, cold metal kisses the skin of my throat. A knife. I don’t move. I don’t breathe. Then… I feel it. A trickle of blood dripping dow n

my neck. “But if you don’t…” he whispers, his breath hot and sour against my cheek, “I’ll slit your

throat and be done with it.”

I nod. What other choice do I have? It’s the only thing I can do.

His smile stretches wider, warped and twisted. In one swift motion, he rips the tape from my mouth and cuts the ropes. Pain sears through me. My scream collapses in my throat.

“I own you now,” he says, unlocking the chains on my wrist. “And son… if you try anything stupid, I’ll gut your brother in front of you… just like I did your mother.”

Time stops. He said it out loud. So now it’s true. The crack in my chest splits wide open into a cavern of unescapable pain I’ll never crawl out of.

He shoves me toward the hallway. The lights flicker. The walls moan. The floor beneath my feet feels alive.

Watching.

Listening.

Waiting.

Am I at a motel?

“Make sure to get a tip, son. She’s our best customer, so don’t disappoint her.” Then he winks and slaps my back like I just won the lottery. What was that about?

I stumble forward with my quivering legs, barely able to hold myself up from the last 24 hours.

The hallway stretches like a tunnel to hell.

The air is heavy with cigarette smoke, body odor, and something else I’m not familiar with…

The carpet sticks to my bare feet. The wallpaper peels in curling strips, like secrets clawing their way out.

Then I see it. The red door. Splintered wood and chipped paint.

Deep crimson with a go ld doorknob. It looks like it’s breathing.

Alive. Waiting to gobble me up and never let me go.

I don’t want to go in. But if I don’t… he’ll kill my brother. Or worse… sell him. Make him do this. He’s just a child and the only family I have left. I reach for the knob. My hand trembles so hard that it can barely grab the damn thing.

I turn it… dreading what is behind this cursed door, or worse… who.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I step inside. Perfume hits me, sending nausea straight to my gut. It’s floral, sickly sweet. Suffocating, like someone poured it over the room to mask the filth beneath it.

The lights are dim and have a tinted gold hue. Velvet curtains pool in the corners. A heart-shaped bed sits center stage, wrapped in crimson just like the door. A table holds two glasses of white wine. A golden lamp flickers beside it. It should feel romantic, but it feels like a prison.

And in the center of it all… her.

She’s naked. Maybe thirty. Dark caramel skin glistens with oil. Chocolate curls streaked with sun-kissed highlights sensually draped over her bare shoulders. She’s beautiful, the kind that lures the sailor close. Not to love him, but to watch him drown at the bottom of the sea.

Am I next?

The thought curdles my stomach as her eyes crawl over me, slow and possessive like I already belong to her.

“You must be new,” she says, voice like honey.

“I’m a regular. So, you’ll be seeing me a lot…

if you do well.” She smiles. Not ki ndly.

She stands with her arms crossed, undressing me with her eyes.

And somehow, it makes me cover myself… even though I’m fully dressed.

“My husband has his fun with his secretary, and well…” She trails her fingers slowly around her nipples, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “I have mine.”

My face goes hot, and my throat locks, and my ears ring. She stands, moving toward me. It’s slow and taunting, like she’s ready to pounce.

No. Please… stay over there.

Her body sways with practiced grace, every movement calculated.

Her full breasts rise and fall with each step, unapologetic and commanding.

Her confidence is petrifying. She doesn’t just own the room…

she owns me, and I never gave her permission.

She extends her hand. Like we’re meeting at a damn charity fundraiser.

“Nice to meet you,” she purrs. “I’m Emily Woodrick. After tonight… I’ll be your favorite client.” I stare at her hand like it’s a snake ready to strike. Maybe it will.

“I… I don’t think this is right,” I stammer. “I don’t want—”

She cuts me off. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.” Her voice turns ice cold. “I pay you to please me. So really… It’s a win for both of us. You get sex and you get paid.” She laughs with sarcasm. “Isn’t that what every guy wants?”

No.

Not me. I was waiting. Waiting for the right one, waiting to give all of myself to someone who truly saw me. Loved me. But now… who would want someone like this? Someone broken. Someone damaged. Someone too far gone.

She steps into my space. Close enough that I feel her heat, which is shocking, considering her heart’s frozen solid. The scent of honeysuckle and bourbon wraps around me like a noose.

God, I wish it were a noose .

“I’m… I’m a virgin,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to—”

Her eyes flash… sharp, emotionless, and strangely eager. “Where have you been my whole life?” She says in a flirtatious voice, inches from my face.

You have to do this if you want to survive.

Shut it off.

Shut the emotions off.

Shut it all off.

She leans in, her breath brushing my lips. “I can teach you all my tricks.” Her tongue drags along the seam of my mouth. Then she kisses me. Soft. Sweet and poisonous. But all I can taste is bile. It's rising fast, burning my throat.

I think I’m going to throw up.

Her hand slips lower, finding me.

Shit.

She wraps her hand around my shaft through my sweatpants like she’s done this a hundred times.

No.

Stop.

No.

My body betrays me.

Please stop.

I don’t want this .

She feels it harden in her hand and smiles. “You’re adorable,” she breathes. “So innocent.” Her smirk grows as she traces my shoulder. “Let’s change that.”

I close my eyes, forcing my mind to reset, to go numb, to detach. Anything to disassociate from what’s about to happen. She leads me to bed like a teacher walking a student to the front of the class.

And I realized… I thought that night I was going to die. I prayed for it. Because death?

Death would’ve been mercy.

But instead… I walked through that red door. And I never came back out the same.

I didn’t die that night. I disappeared. And the boy he chained up?

He never made it out.

Only the monster did.