The Last Girl Taken (Suburban Secrets #3)

Prologue

‘C an I have more?’

My hands tremble as I lift the empty bowl to him. I know the request is risky but I can’t take the hollow feeling any longer.

The man slaps the empty bowl out of my hands without answering. Sticky slop covers my dirty, bare feet.

‘Get back to your cell.’

The scared eyes of other children watch me from behind their bars as he drags me by the arm back to the space that fuels my nightmares.

But I don’t dare cry. I’m the oldest one here and I refuse to shed a tear. Seeing someone older than you cry is hard. It makes you feel even more helpless. Those other kids don’t need to see the biggest kid cry. I’ll be strong for them.

‘Lunch is over,’ the man barks, and our cells are locked.

The man’s name is Kyle, and he considers himself to be the top dog here. Not the very top because I hear him panic when word of the boss is mentioned, but the top of the bottom. I’m not really sure what the hierarchy is in an organisation like this. I’m not even sure what the organisation is.

Kyle has a thick black beard and long hair, which always appears unwashed.

His eyes are dark, and I see them most nights in my dreams. The other guy, Eddie, isn’t as bad.

He doesn’t look scary and he’s never aggressive in the same way Kyle is.

Kyle always seems angry at Eddie, like he’s not doing his job properly.

‘The old guy was much better than you,’ Kyle had said once. ‘Until he got himself caught, bastard.’

When I first got here, hearing this exchange, that someone had been caught, sparked hope in me. But it’s been six weeks and I’m still here.

I glance at the tally marks I’ve been recording on the floor of my cell.

It hadn’t been my idea. Someone had been doing it before me, and if their tally marks mean the same thing, they were here for only seven days.

My tally marks are about five times theirs.

Each time I scrape the small rock against the stone floor, I picture Mum and Dad.

At least I try to. Every day it gets harder to see their faces.

Like with each tally mark a little part of them disappears, along with my hope.

The day passes in much the same way as every other day. Some of the younger kids talk to one another, and all of them cry at some point. I spend the afternoon napping, my body growing so tired from the lack of food.

My stomach groans and I think about dinner. It’s never much, and it’s not very tasty, but I’m a growing sixteen-year-old, I’ll eat anything.

The door to the warehouse creaks as it opens—a good warning for everyone to be quiet.

Kyle and Eddie come in carrying trays with small steaming bowls on top.

Hot food. My mouth waters at the thought.

While we all stand behind our bars, starving, waiting patiently for our meals, Kyle and Eddie continue their conversation as if we aren’t there.

‘They haven’t moved a single asset since you arrived,’ Kyle says. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, mate. Maybe they got some intel to lay low,’ Eddie says, his eyes flashing up at his colleague, but Kyle doesn’t react.

Kyle arranges the trays on a small table in the centre of the warehouse while Eddie unlocks the cells. ‘Line up,’ Eddie calls, and we move slowly toward the table. While we’re desperate for food, we’re still wary.

‘Yeah, maybe,’ Kyle says, picking up the conversation again. ‘I just don’t get it. Keeping the kids here this long makes them look sick and dirty. That’s not what the clients want. Something’s not right.’

Eddie grunts in response and keeps ushering other children into the line to collect their meal.

‘The bosses sound far more stressed and there’s even talk Gregor is going to come from the States to fix things,’ Kyle continues.

It’s my turn to take a bowl, and I avoid eye contact with Kyle, worried he may slap this one out of my hands too.

‘Fix what?’ Eddie asks.

‘I’ve told you this place has been a shit show since the arrest two years ago. There’s word we’ll be packing up, moving the assets and changing location again.’

Zoe, a five-year-old girl, drops her bowl on her way back to her cell. The metal bowl doesn’t break but the contents go everywhere, and we all know from experience, there’s rarely extra. She freezes on the spot and turns slowly to face the men.

Her face pales, eyes wide and teeth chattering. ‘I-I’m sorry,’ she squeaks.

‘Clean it up,’ Kyle barks at her before storming toward the exit. Eddie stays to collect the bowls when we finish.

I clear my throat as I approach Eddie with my bowl. ‘Can I give the rest of mine to Zoe?’

His eyebrows knit together and he frowns. ‘Make it fast,’ he snaps.

Zoe sobs as I hand her the bowl, and she spoons the slop into her mouth so quickly I’m scared she might vomit. When she’s done I take it to Eddie.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper.

We’re all back in our cells, Eddie is stacking the trays when the warehouse door flies open.

‘Oi!’ shouts Kyle. ‘We’ve got a situation. Outside. Now!’