Chapter 25
I t didn’t take long to learn my way around Sasha’s rules:
Don’t speak unless you're spoken to at all.
Present yourself as a conformable wife prize; a slave.
Always treat men with respect avoid eye contact.
Remember your new name number.
One wrong move and you will get punished.
They’ve had us all in the same, large common area for what must have been hours. None of us are allowed to talk to or even look at one another. One by one, they pick out girls from the room to follow a guard elsewhere.
“826. You’re next,” calls a guard from the doorway.
It takes me a moment to realize that they are referring to me. Not one part of me wants to find out where they plan on taking me next, but in the short time I’ve been here, I have seen enough abuse to know I’ll be going one way or another.
Play your part, Amaris.
Reaching the doorway, he immediately shoves me forward with his SWAT machine gun. Leading me into a dim room, we step onto a platform until I’m almost to the edge where more guns surround me, tracking my every movement.
A bright light casts a spotlight on me, temporarily blinding me. While my features remain impassive, my body vibrates with uncertainty, betraying my fear. When my eyes adjust to the room, I make out multiple tables scattered around the room, too far away and dark to see any faces. From the shadows, I feel the weight of too many eyes casting down on me, confirming that the room is full of people. The tall wall ahead of me is lined with rows of windows. At this angle, they appear reflective, like a wall of mirrors.
A dimmer spotlight shines on a stocky man, about my height, stalking towards me in a clean suit and sardonic smile with a microphone in hand. He comes to a stop, running one hand over his styled, brown hair before running the other from my upper back down to my ass, squeezing. My brain screams in protest and my body wants to recoil instead of tensing up. On the outside, my face has a permanent scowl plastered on, otherwise betraying nothing.
The man switches the mic on and announces my number as if he was a game show host.
“Here we have this fine piece of ass, number 826. She’s a feisty one, but I know some of you like that.” He winks at that. “Nothing that proper discipline and some training can’t fix, of course.”
Is this some sort of game show? Shit.
Thoughts of Kylo invade my mind as I squint my eyes, trying and failing to get a glimpse of any other face.
Does he know I’m missing?
Where are you, Kylo?
“The bidding will start at fifty thousand. You know what to do, place your bids and send your comments my way.”
That snaps me out of my head. The man walks away, returning soon after with a large tablet in hand. Scrolling and smothering a laugh at whatever he is reading, he clears his throat and looks out to address the room.
“Ah, there’s good competition for this one. Here’s a comment, ‘She looks hot up there, but she would look better screaming and bleeding for me.’ ” He gives me a once-over before continuing, “I agree she would.”
Hell would have to freeze over before I allow any of these men to put their filthy hands on me. The thought alone of sleeping with any of these pigs makes me sick to my stomach. Kylo wasn’t the monster—I’m surrounded by the real monsters now.
“Bids are getting high, do I hear two-hundred thousand? Someone says, ‘You will be mine, emerald. Until we meet again.’” My blood runs cold at the mention of that name. He’s back.
“Love the determination. Let’s see it in the numbers. I have three-hundred thousand, anyone else?”
Who in their right mind would pay so much for sex? Not only did they strip away my identity, but they’re throwing out prices like I’m an animal.
That’s what I am to them, though. Isn’t it? An animal in a cage for them to poke fun at and use and abuse as they please. It then occurs to me that this isn’t just paying for sex. This is paying for ownership .
The man next to me laughs, glancing at me with faux friendliness. “You’re in high demand today.” Money signs almost shine right through his eyes. “Another comment. I love these. ‘I want her now. I’m not waiting for a taste.’ Oh, we’re at five-hundred thousand. Anyone else? Going once?” My heart sinks. “Going twice? Sold! For five-hundred thousand dollars. We will have your prize ready for you at the staircase.”
Two buff men come from nowhere and drag me away to the bottom of a wide staircase. A minute later, footsteps echo down the hall as my heart pounds in my ears in tandem with the steps. Dark, hazel eyes meet mine, full of excitement, when my kidnapper turns the corner, revealing himself.
“Finally. You’re all mine, emerald,” he says in a low voice as he gets closer. Averting my eyes to the floor, I keep my mouth shut and wait for the right time to make my next move.
He grabs my arm in a tight hold and drags me up the stairs. We go out a set of double doors that reveal flashing lights and loud music. None of it could be heard prior to the door being opened. Both of the guards follow closely behind as he tugs me down a long hall and into an all-red bedroom, leaving the guards outside the door. When he releases me, my feet stay rooted to the ground in the center of the room.
“I’m gonna have fun with you. From the moment I saw you at that party, I knew I had to make you mine. Kincaid isn’t man enough for you, baby girl,” he says in a low, husky tone that repulses me as his hands run down my sides. At the mention of Kylo, a load of emotions arise.
“He’s more man than you’ll ever be,” I quip.
Eyes flashing with anger, his open palm connects with my cheek in the blink of an eye. Heat creeps up my neck, reaching my ears, yet this time I say nothing.
“Don’t push me. You will learn to respect me one way or another, because guess what? You’ll never see him again, I made sure of that,” he sneers.
The insinuation is enough to twist the knife already plunged in my heart. Surely, he doesn’t mean what I think he means. Searching my eyes, a cruel laugh escapes him at what he finds.
“He’s dead. Nobody is going to come for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier things will be for you.”
My feelings towards Kylo have never been so confusing. Half of me screams that I hate him again, while the other half wants to track down and kill anyone who had a hand in hurting him. No matter what my feelings are towards him, death is not what I wanted for him.
I’ve never had a stronger urge to hurt somebody. The darkness that I keep locked tight in a box wants to come out and play.
He stands a few feet away, raking his hungry eyes over my figure when an idea comes to me. Sending a quick prayer to the moon, I put on my best performance yet.
“Maybe he wasn’t as invincible as I thought he was,” I whisper.
The side of his lip tips up. “You’re starting to get it, baby girl. I’m gonna fuck the memory of him out of you until the only thing you feel is me and whatever I give you. You want that, don’t you?”
Men think they are entitled to anything they want. What makes this okay in their sick, twisted minds? If I don’t make it out of here, I will fight until I die trying. That’s a promise.
Blood rushes to my face once again, but where he sees a blush, I know it’s anger boiling under the surface waiting to explode.
“Yes,” I breathe out. Without giving him the chance to give me directions, I slip my hand under my dress and slide my underwear off, sinking to my knees.
His eyes shine with desire, that evil glint never leaving. Understanding what I’m implying, he chuckles darkly and removes his belt. “See, I knew you’d be a perfect little cock whore.” Discarding his pants, he takes a few steps back until he’s sitting on the mattress, waiting with spread legs. “Crawl over here, slut.”
Holding my underwear in one hand, I obey, swaying my hips from side to side. He looks down at me with a challenge in his eyes. My body is close enough to where he doesn’t notice my hand slip under my dress again. Bringing my face close to his erection, my eyes flick up to his and I use my panties to rub the length of it, watching him.
In one fluid movement, I move my hand away and stuff the cloth into his now open mouth at the same time my dagger comes down on the root of his dick. Then again. And again. His shriek is barely contained and he overpowers me moments later, shoving me to the ground and straddling me. The warm blood gushing out of his wound is spilling onto my stomach and I hold my breath, trying to not throw up at the sensation.
“You fucking bitch!” He punches me in the face and my eyes roll back with the force. My eyes adjust to the sight of him rearing back to punch again and I instinctually bring my hand holding the knife over my face, jabbing the first body part I reach.
I stabbed him in the fucking eyeball.
He screams again and stumbles to the side, covering his injured eye. I take the opportunity to crawl over to him again and stab his shoulder. His blood paints most of my upper body and I do my best to ignore it all. Who knows if it’s blood or tears dripping down my face, and at this point, who cares?
He kicks my knee in, hard—especially for someone who’s been stabbed multiple times. Is this man made out of steel?
His bloody, flaccid cock hangs freely, asking for me to grab it and pull. When he levitates his chest up from the pain alone, I find a morbid satisfaction in his suffering. Using the sharp blade to sever the rest of his dick off, I leave him panting for air.
I find myself wanting to help him out.
Crawling over his weak body, my hands have a slight tremor when I bring the knife up to his throat. His hands move to grab me, but he’s too slow. I slide the dagger through the side of his neck and pull forward. Thick, crimson liquid spurts out and lands on my face and chest. Time seems to freeze for a moment and nothing moves except for my thunderous heart, slamming against my chest.
He isn’t moving or breathing anymore, but I don’t believe it.
What if he wakes up?
I stab him again in the chest. Then, I keep slashing him until the sobs consume me and I’m wailing in the empty room.
He can’t hurt anyone else now. He can’t hurt anyone else now.
There’s blood and body matter everywhere . It’s all over me, all over my hands. Shaky hands come up to my chest, the beat of my own heart serving to ground me, reminding me that I’m still here.
For now.
I have to get out of here.
As if the universe decided to play some sort of deranged joke on me, gunshots start sounding off in the distance followed by banging. Terror sucks the very breath from my lungs. Heart banging in my ear, I push myself up in a hurry to the door, stumbling in the process. My stomach protests harder once I stand too quickly, not giving me a chance to hold back any of the barely-there contents in my stomach. It joins the rest of the mess on the floor.
Cracking the door open reveals a pitch-black abyss. There’s no more music playing and nothing is visible, but I take my chances anyway and slip out of the room. Each step I take is another deep breath in an attempt to calm my mind and keep the tears at bay. Albeit, they are still falling and I’m still shaking.
Strong arms haul me aside and my first instinct is to yelp and thrust my knife in the direction of my attacker. Spiced wood invades my senses and in the dark, I try to make out the man holding on to me. My mind must be playing tricks on me at the wrong time.
His groan meets my ears and my breath catches in my throat.
“Kylo?” My voice breaks audibly.
“I’m here…” His croaky voice is the sweetest sound to my ears, the tears falling on their own volition in response.
It’s not possible. Is he really here?
“I-I- He...”
“Shh, it’s just me. I got you. You’re safe now,” he coos in my ear. Relief and inexplicable joy wash over me like a tsunami wave as I launch myself into his arms.
Damn, I missed him.
I allow myself until the count of five to embrace him tightly—and let a few more tears slip out—as if being separated from him would kill me. He grabs my face with both of his hands and pulls me in for a soft kiss, one that says more than words ever could.
When I pull back, we speak at the same time.
“There are at least ten more girls here.”
“We don’t have much time, we have to go.”
He takes my hand in his and starts walking us through the darkness.
“Maven’s team is extracting all the girls as we speak. I have a car waiting for us at the edge of the perimeter, but we have a small window,” Kylo informs me.
“Who’s Maven?” I ask.
“You’ll meet her when we get outside.”
As soon as he opens an exit door and the fresh air hits me, my eyes water anew. Kylo scopes out the surrounding area, then signals that it’s clear for us to move out. The moonlight casts an ethereal glow over us. We both take a moment to take in the other with the new lighting. His hair is disheveled and his eyes have a red tint around them, but they’re wide with concern.
“Baby…there’s so much blood.” It’s his horrified whisper that brings me back to what I did.
I killed a man.
The color drains from my face as I whisper back, “It’s not mine.”
He brushes my hair away from my face, lightly rubbing over the forming bruise with a pain-stricken look. “What did they do to you?” he growls.
Suddenly, my vision fades in and out along with Kylo’s voice. The world spins around me, calling me back into the darkness. My body loses its strength and two arms lift me bridal style. That’s the last thing I feel before everything fades to black.