23. Maya
MAYA
I tuck my knees up to my chest and look around the back of the van. There are two other women in here with me, and I don’t know if I’m glad for the company, or devastated that there are others subject to the same horrors that I am.
Artem wasted no time in getting me out of that place, pulling a bag over my head before he tossed me into the back of a van. My ears are still ringing from the sound of the door slamming, and, as the engine starts up below us, I get a horrible feeling in the base of my stomach.
I don’t know if I’m going to find a way out of this.
I try to distract myself, looking around at the women who are sharing this space with me. Maybe we can band together, figure something out. Might be a ridiculous thought, but I have to give it a try.
“Hey,” I murmur, to the one closest to me. She has long hair that is streaked with grown-out blonde highlights, and her eyes are fixed on the floor. There is a tattoo of a butterfly on her wrist, its wings flapping, as though seeking somewhere better than this.
She doesn’t lift her head, and I guess she didn’t hear me over the rumbling of the engines. I try again, a little firmer this time, reaching out to touch her on the arm.
“Hey.”
She jolts as soon as I lay a hand on he, and I instantly regret it.
I don’t want to scare her, or any of them, for that matter.
I can’t even imagine everything that has brought them to this point—I can only guess that it’s as much of a mess for them as it is for me, and I don’t want to force them to relive it.
“Sorry,” I whisper, drawing my hand back, shifting away from her to give her the space she needs. “I’m Maya, by the way.”
The girl eyes me for a moment, her scared green eyes examining mine.
“Anna,” she replies, and she hooks her elbows around her knees, pulling them further in, as though she wants to vanish into herself.
“Do you know where we’re going?”I ask, nodding to the road outside—not that we can see much of it, from where we are. The windows are tinted, dark enough that it’s virtually impossible for anyone to see inside, and even if they could, the windows are too high to see where we are going.
Anna shakes her head.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just… I was asleep in my apartment, I brought this guy home last night, and he must have… I thought he left, but he stayed while I was asleep, and I woke up and he was telling me I had to come with him.”
She falls silent again, her words choked by tears in the back of her throat. My brows knit together. Fuck, this is even worse than I thought. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to ease the burden of this for her, but I have to try.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I—he took me, too. I was just getting some fresh air last night, and he—”
“To an auction.”
One of the other girls speaks up from the far side of the truck, and we both look over at her in surprise.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Artem is taking us to an auction,” she replies, her voice hollow, devoid of emotion. “He’s got buyers together, ready to bid. That’s where we’re going right now. To be sold.”
My head sags down to my chest as panic grips me once again. No, this can’t be happening. He threatened it, but I never thought it would get to this point, the point where I was actually going to be forced up on to that stage again and shown off like I was nothing more than an object.
“How do you know?” Anna demands, moving towards the other woman, her brows knitting together worriedly. The butterfly on her wrist flexes with each motion, almost as if it is flying.
“I heard him talking to his men when he was outside,” she replies, gesturing back towards the door she is leaning on.
“Oh, God,” I gasp, and I clap a hand to my face.
“An auction?” Anna asks, looking between us. “I don’t understand, why are we going to an auction?”
“Because we’re the lots,” the other woman tells her, voice taking on an edge of exasperation. I can’t blame her. This situation is so hellish, there’s almost no way to react to it that feels as though it captures the enormity of what is happening.
“We’re the, what?”
“They’re selling girls, Anna,” I tell her softly, reaching out to put my hand on her knee, doing what I can to lessen the blow of this revelation. Her eyes well with tears, and she sinks back to the other side of the van, her mind already reeling from the horror of what she has just discovered.
I feel the other woman looking at me, and I glance back at her, not entirely sure what to say.
“I’m Luna, by the way,” she introduces herself. I peer at her for a moment, trying to get a better look at her. The name rings a bell, as distinct as it is.
“Wait, did you ever come to the—”
“The bar that Artem runs, yeah,” she replies, fiddling with a toggle on her oversized sweater. “I used to come to... find guys. If you know what I mean.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” I murmur. Shit, I don’t judge. God knows that we have all done things we are not proud of just to make ends meet. But she takes my silence for judgement, and frowns, leaning forward in an attempt to explain herself.
“I only did it because I lost my job,” she explains. “And this shithead guy I was seeing, he kicked me out and moved his new girl in, so I would have been on the streets if I hadn’t.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her gently, and she stares at me for a moment, clearly not entirely convinced that I’m not judging her right now. But, after a moment, she sinks back to the other side of the truck, fiddling with the toggles again.
The engine rumbles beneath us, and silence fills the air as we all contemplate our fate. I can’t help but let my mind drift back to the threat that he laid against me in particular, telling me that he had a particular buyer picked out for me.
And, by the sounds of it, he’s not the kind of man who lets his women last long. I can’t even think about that. It hasn’t happened yet, this sale, and I have to believe that it won’t. The other option is too much to bear.
And, of course, I have my baby to think of in all of this.
The child who has been entrusted into my care, the little one that I should be decorating a nursery for right now or something.
But no, I decided I knew better, and walked out into the street, practically handing myself over to Artem in any way he wanted me.
“Do either of you... uh, do either of you have kids?” I blurt out, as I look between the two of them. They both turn to me, Luna parting her lips in surprise, and Anna already shaking her head.
“No, thank God,” Luna replies. “Why? Do you?”
“Oh, my God,” Anna gasps, and my shoulders sag.
“No, I don’t have kids,” I reply. “I was just... wondering, that’s all.”
Luna eyes me for a moment, clearly not entirely buying what I’m trying to convince her of. I don’t blame her. It’s a strange thing to bring up at a time like this, unless there was a very specific reason that it should have been on my mind.
Better to keep my mouth shut. I let the sound of the wheels turn into white noise in my ears and wonder how long we have before we arrive.
And what happens when we do? They’re going to march us out there just like they did to me before, treating me like nothing but a piece of meat.
Even the thought of it is enough to make my stomach turn.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and send out a prayer to anyone who might be listening.
I don’t care who helps me right now, I don’t care what religion I have to convert to, I will do anything, anything at all, if it means that I can get out of this.
And get Luna and Anna out of this, too, because I’m certain that no woman on earth could deserve a fate like this, and that I would do almost anything to spare them from it.
But it’s not God I should be praying to. No, it’s a man that a lot of people would consider the embodiment of the devil—a brutal, possessive man, who I knew would do anything to keep this child safe.
And that’s who I think of, as I finally feel the wheels come to a halt beneath me, him, Anton. He is the best hope I have of getting out of this, even if that seems close to impossible right now.
The doors fly open in front of us, and I lift a hand as I squint into the light. Of course, Artem is standing there, big grin on his face, like all of this is a sick joke to him.
“Come on, girls,” he tells us, waving his hand in our direction like this is all some kind of big joke to him. “We’re here. And I want you to take your time to get prettied up before I put you up for sale, okay? I have some outfits backstage that I know you’re going to love...”
Anna, Luna, and I exchange a glance—and, though none of us say a word, it feels like there is a silent agreement between us that we will stand by each other no matter what through all of this.
No matter what stands on the other side of that door, we are not going to let it take us down.
It’s the only chance we have of making it out of this alive.
Though those changes seem to be dwindling with every passing second.
As we follow Artem into the bar ahead of us, the night sky dimming above, I look up and send out another prayer to Anton. Because God knows, I need him right now.
And I don’t know if he is going to make it in time to stop the hell that his brother wants to unleash on me.