Chapter Eighteen
S am had known that coming here was a bad idea when her mother swung open the trailer door. When she left Brynn’s house, she’d intended to drive home, but with each mile that passed, the defeat coursing through her when Fred told them her mom had been staked out in front of Brynn’s house turned to something else entirely. Angel was barking in the car behind her, but she wouldn’t be long, and she kept the car running. Red tinged her vision at the wasted-away woman in front of her.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Her mother smirked and lifted a half-full bottle of vodka to her lips.
“I’ve had enough. Enough of your blame. Enough of your begging. Enough of your hatefulness,” Sam yelled. She’d never spoken to anyone like this, but years of pent-up hurt were too much to contain. Especially knowing she’d put her new friends, the people who had shown her more care and concern than her own family, in danger. “You had no right to come to my friend’s house last night. No right to sit out there. What were you hoping for? That I’d come outside, and you could give me some new sob story about why you needed money? How, if it wasn’t for me, your life would be perfect. You and Dad made your choices. Ones that had nothing to do with me. I chose to work hard. To be responsible. I have good people in my life now, and I would do anything to protect them. I want you to stay away. You’re not a mother. You never were.”
“You’re wrong.” A cold smile spread over the face of the woman who’d birthed her. “I wasn’t there to ask for money. That ship has sailed.”
“What do you want, then?” Her mother wasn’t looking at her, though, but at something over her shoulder.
When she snarled, “Do it,” Sam started to turn. Her mom hadn’t been looking at something but someone. Pain exploded in the back of her head, and she staggered. The last thing she heard was her mother’s laughter and Angel’s howls.
*
Sam shivered as a ripple of air snaked over her bare arms, chilling her. She opened her eyes, and the world blurred and shifted. The breath left her lungs as pain pulsed at the base of her skull. Someone had hit her from behind. She’d stupidly let her emotions get the best of her and charged up to her mother’s trailer, not once thinking about the possibility of danger. Oh God, Angel had been in her car. If they hurt the dog, she’d never forgive herself for impulsively putting her in harm’s way. Her mother was not a nice person, but she didn’t think she’d actually hurt a dog, let alone her only daughter. Well, she’d been wrong.
Now it was up to her to get herself out of this mess. She opened her eyes slowly. There were no harsh lights, nothing to bother her eyes. Everything was dark. The ground below her was crushed stone. She tried to move her hands, but they were numb, tied tightly in front of her. She kicked her feet, but those, too, were bound.
Another gust of wind blew, and something splashed against her face. Rain. Wind. Dark. She was outside. Her teeth chattered, both from cold and fear. It had been morning when she arrived at her mother’s trailer. Had she really been unconscious all day because of the blow to the head, or had they given her something to ensure she didn’t make any noise? She tried to roll over, but something was pressed against her back. Her chest tightened as panic began to clutch her. She was wedged under a car, just enough to be exposed to the elements but not enough to be easily seen with how the car was positioned. She didn’t think she was in the same location as her mother’s trailer anymore. Not that she spent any time at her mother’s trailer, but still, this didn’t seem to be the place she’d been this morning.
A door opened and slammed. Gravel crunched, growing more audible. Panic gripped her, clogging her throat with fear.
“Are you sure about this?” The man’s voice was a wheeze, as though he’d been doing manual labor or was a frequent smoker.
“What’s there not to be sure about? I need to pay this debt, and she’s the way to do it.”
Sam closed her eyes, pretending to still be knocked out. How often had she told her mother she had no money? Was her mother planning to hold her hostage to extort money from Julian?
“Breaking and entering is small time compared to selling a person,” the man hissed.
Selling a…oh God! Her mother planned to sell her to pay off her debt? She never imagined her mother would do something so drastic, so evil. She should try to fight, try to escape, but how? With her hands and legs bound it seemed impossible. Her head was throbbing, and her mind was fuzzy.
“And once she’s gone, I finally get the praise I deserve. I’ll be the poor, broken mother of an abducted child. We’ll set up one of those community funding sites so people can donate to our search efforts, but we’ll live off that money. Move somewhere warm. Have a fresh start.”
“If you’re sure it’s gonna work. I don’t know, though. I have a bad feeling someone’s gonna see that dog, and it’ll lead them straight to us.”
“What do you think it is, fucking Lassie? You’re the only person who could lose a three-legged dog. Now be a man and throw her in the trunk. I promised we’d be at the warehouse with payment in twenty minutes.”
The man groaned but he fell silent.
Thank God, Angel had gotten away. Julian or one of her friends might’ve realized she was missing by now. Maybe one of them would find Angel. Letting her mind wander to what would happen if Angel stepped out onto a busy road or spent the night in the woods surrounded by predators made her heart pound. She tried to remain still and not cry out when rough hands grabbed her upper arm and inner thigh, sliding her against the sharp stone. There was nowhere she could escape to, no weapon she could use to defend herself. Everything she’d ever read said once you were trapped in someone’s vehicle the chances of survival dramatically reduced, but her hands and legs were bound. She couldn’t run or fight back. She was hefted up, and bit the inside of her cheek when the man stumbled, nearly dropping her, to keep from yelping.
“Get that damn trunk open. She weighs a ton.”
“She’s pint-sized. It’s you who’s weak.” There was the metal against metal sound of a key sliding into a lock. If she tried to escape now, she’d fall to the ground and risk hitting her head again. Her best chance probably was to let herself be put into the trunk. Maybe there was something in there that could help free her of the bindings, then she could catch them by surprise if she could regain feeling in her arms and legs.
She was unprepared to be rolled off the man’s shoulder and dropped into the bottom of the trunk. Her cheek slammed into something hard, and warmth trickled over her skin and down her lips. She wasn’t quick enough to close her mouth, and the copper tang of blood coated her tongue. The trunk slammed, pitching the space into total darkness. The engine rumbled, vibrating beneath her. The trunk was filthy. She was pretty sure there was an oily sandwich wrapper near her head because of the intense smell of rotten onions and salami. Her stomach rolled and lurched. She held down the bile that burned up her throat and searched for something to untie her wrists.
She hadn’t considered that her hands and feet were completely numb, so not only was it impossible to locate something sharp, it would be dangerous, too. She could slice through her skin without being aware. Once there’d been a news release about a woman who’d kicked out the taillights from inside the trunk. If she could do that, maybe they’d get pulled over. She tried to slam her bound feet into where she thought one of the lights was located. Her hands were still tied, so using those to break the light by her upper body was out. There had to be an emergency release somewhere in the trunk. She’d just have to do some creative maneuvering to get to it.
She curled up as far as she could, hoping her face would hit against something that might be the release latch. Maybe she could grab it with her teeth and pull it open. Rolling out of a moving vehicle with no use of her hands or legs would be dangerous, but she preferred that to letting her fate rest in the hands of her deranged mother. The car unexpectedly braked, and she was tossed to the back of the trunk. A door opened and closed. Were they there already? Had her time run out?
The trunk opened, and her mother hovered above her. “Do you think we can’t hear you banging around back here, stupid girl?” Her mother’s fist connected with her face and the trunk was slammed again. Pain ricocheted through her head from the blow her mother had landed. She wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed when the car stopped for a second time.
She’d used all her energy to find a release latch, but it was just out of reach. She couldn’t grab it with her teeth. Tears of frustration and fear leaked from her eyes. If Julian had realized she was gone, he’d be frantic. She had no doubt that Julian and his teammates would search for her. What she didn’t know was whether it would be too late. Would she be boxed into some kind of shipping container and transported overseas? Both doors opened and closed this time, and muffled footsteps rounded the car toward the back. The trunk was popped open, and she was thrown back onto the man’s shoulder, who grunted in pain with every step.
“Would you stop moaning and groaning?” her mother snapped.
“Why don’t you try carrying her?” the man shot back.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. Wind raked over her skin and snuck beneath her tank top. Rain beat down on the back of her neck. If only her face was to the sky, she could open her mouth and drink some droplets.
The man who was carrying her stopped.
“Names,” a new voice demanded.
“Paula and Joe. We have payment.”
The man carrying her began moving again. They’d entered some kind of shelter because, suddenly, the rain and wind abated.
The man her mother called Joe dipped his shoulder, dropping her on the concrete floor. Her body hit the cold, unforgiving surface with a dull thud. Something snapped and shifted, and she couldn’t contain the cry of pain.
“Shut up, you sniveling b—”
“What the hell is this?”
She blinked as a massive man in a leather jacket, pants, and a face covering stalked toward them.
“Payment for the loan I took,” her mother said with no inflection to indicate remorse for what she was about to do.
“Well, where the fuck’s the money? Because all I see is two addicts and some girl who looks like she’s been through the wringer.” The man stood with his feet planted wide.
“She is the money. You can sell her for far more than you loaned to me.”
“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I deal in money, not people. I’m not some human trafficker. I’m a businessman,” the loan shark bellowed as relief swept through her. “My gut told me not to deal with you, and now I’m in an impossible position. Kill the three of you and lose my investment, give you more time, or call the cops because you’d be willing to see a random woman turned into someone’s sex slave?”
“She’s my daughter, and I can do whatever the hell I want with her.”
“That.” The man pointed at her. “That is your daughter?”
“Sure is.”
“That is the most fucked-up shit I’ve ever heard.” At his yelling, the guard who must’ve met them outside appeared. His face was covered with a black mask.
“What’s wrong, Boss?”
“Milo, why’d you let these people in with her?” The boss gestured to her again. “Do you know what they want to do? They want to sell their kid to pay off their loan.”
“Not my kid,” the man next to her mother muttered. “Not my idea.”
“Shut your trap, Joe.” Her mother shoved the man.
“That’s cold,” the guard said and whistled.
“I can’t fucking believe this. You owe me three grand. How hard is it to come up with that?”
“It’s her fault. She has the money but is too selfish to give it to me.” Her mother was up on her feet, pointing her finger at Sam.
“Milo, take the girl to my office,” the boss demanded. “Then start the car so we can get the hell out of here.”
The guard immediately crossed the room toward her at a quick clip. She should be terrified, but all she could muster was a sick sort of relief that she was putting distance between her mother and the man she’d roped into her scheme. The guard grabbed the arm she’d fallen onto, the one she was sure was broken, and she shrieked. Pain radiated up her arm and shot down her shoulder and back. The guard immediately released her.
“Sorry.” She gritted her teeth, panting through the pain. “I think that one’s broken.”
He gave her a nod. At least, she thought he did. Still, with the ski mask covering his face and her vision blurring, it was hard to see. The guard took her other arm and hauled her to her feet, then picked her up and carried her into a back room that could hardly be called an office. There were a few folding chairs and a small center table with an ashtray. The guard placed her in a chair and turned, closing the door behind him. A loud pop sounded from outside of the room, then another. She expected the men to burst into the office at any moment, but several minutes went by in silence. Had those pops been gunshots? Neither Paula nor Joe had a gun that she’d seen, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t had one concealed. Even so, she had a feeling that if shots were fired, they were directed at her abductors.
The boss had told the guard to get the car ready, but would they just leave her here? A loose end that could come back to bite them later? Her hurt arm was trembling, and her head was pulsing in pain, but she couldn’t just sit here. Not when Julian was most likely frantic searching for her. She had to find a way to get the rope off of her wrists and ankles. Her skin had turned an alarming shade of purple. A color that probably meant permanent damage to her appendages. She wiggled her arms, trying to loosen the binding until blood oozed from the raw cuts at her wrists. Permanent damage in her hands and arms would effectively end her career as a music therapist. She’d still have her voice, but the guitar was a vital component of what she did. Still, she had to focus on survival first, no matter what it cost her. She might not be able to use her hands or her feet, but she could inch along on her knees and elbows. Putting weight on her arm would be hell, but doing something was better than sitting here waiting for her fate to be sealed.
She slid forward on the seat, trying to get to the floor with minimal pain, but she couldn’t brace herself for the fall. The agony of hitting the floor again made tears leak down her cheeks. She blew out a breath and slowly maneuvered herself to her knees. She used the edge of the rope at her wrists to lower the door handle, and once the door was open, she curled at the waist, falling onto her elbows. The hard floor jarred her bones, and she clenched her teeth, counting through the sheer agony in her arm. Then she began to drag herself like an inchworm across the warehouse floor.