She had played the part, pretending to go along with what Emmett—the real boss of this organization—had wanted of her, and she was given the chance to work for freedom that would never come.
Jessica had been one of the first girls Luna had befriended during one of the short bouts when Lawrence had let her be free. They had been close in age, and it was easy to bond over that and more.
The girl hadn’t made it more than a week once her slice of freedom before she had attempted to escape, and for one very long hour, Luna had thought she’d made it—until Lawrence and Emmett returned with images of her mutilated corpse, warning anyone else that had thought to run.
Luna hadn’t tried again after that day.
But she wasn’t broken.
She hadn’t submitted.
She hadn’t lost hope that she would one day make it out of this place—start over somewhere far, far away and try to find her family.
It was hope that both kept her going everyday, and weighed heavily on her.
“Remy brought me this,” Cat said as Luna dropped down beside her after grabbing the Anatomy textbook from the bookcase, gesturing to the bottle she was using while careful not to mess up her work.
“I like this one better than the yellow,” Luna said with a smile, flipping the book open to the page she had dog-eared the last time she’d been in this room.
Had that been a week ago? More?
“You know when I was in school, I hated this fucking subject,” Cat said with a shake of her head. “How you enjoy that is beyond me.”
Cat was only twenty-two, but she had a habit of making herself sound older, as though they were decades apart as opposed to a few years.
Every other Wednesday, Jason, a regular customer of hers, brought gifts and whatever else she asked for that Emmett allowed, showering her with affection that most of the men that frequented this place didn’t possess. He was one of those older, lonely men that sought the company of women that could pretend to care when he talked.
Cat was very good at pretending.
Luna didn’t know much about the man, or Cat even considering the amount of time she spent separate from everyone else, but they had become instant friends one night when Cat had found her sobbing on the floor of the bathroom trying to scrub herself clean.
That night haunted her the most.
Instead of telling her to suck it up as someone else had, Cat helped her as best she could, then dressed her and offered a shoulder to cry on until the tears stopped. They had talked for hours that night, Luna telling her stories about her home so that she could remember that there was something else out there besides pain and misery.
That night, she had also told Cat how much she missed school. The next morning, it had been Cat that told her about the textbooks, helping her learn from them as best she could.
“But you hated most of your classes, right?” Luna asked, recalling Cat having said something of that nature. “Was this worse than chemistry?”
If anything, her frown grew more pronounced. “Nope, chemistry is still at the top of the list.”
As she finished her last toe, Cat sat back and admired her work, then looked at Luna and whispered, “Did you hear about tonight?”
“What about tonight?” Luna expected something, but maybe Cat knew more than she did. “Lawrence is coming back for me at some point, I think.”
“Emmett cancelled all the appointments for tonight.”
Not only hadn’t she heard that, she could hardly believe it was true.
There was never a time that she could remember where Emmett had closed the doors to his estate.
Not since she had been there at least.
“Why?” Luna asked.
“Somebody’s coming. Don’t know who, but it’s supposed to be a business dinner, and—”
“Luna!”
Cat fell silent at the booming voice, as well as the rest of the room—Lawrence Kendall had that kind of reaction when he entered.
As Emmett’s son, he felt entitled to the women here—often doing what he wished without consequence. Luna wasn’t the only girl to be brutalized by him, though hers occurred more regularly. She couldn’t count the number of times he had left one of the girls bloody and broken after spending a night with them.
At one time, Luna hadn’t understood why he acted the way he did. He wasn’t bad looking, nor was he unintelligent, and if he were a touch kinder, he could probably willingly have anyone there, but she had learned that it had nothing to do with looks—he was just a monster that liked to hurt things.
When dark eyes landed on her, he gestured for her to come to him with a crook of his finger and a smile on his lips. He had showered too in the time he’d been gone, hair neatly styled and suit freshly pressed.
Cat squeezed her fingers a moment before Luna shuffled to her feet and slowly crossed the floor. What could she do against him? He was bigger, taller, and had a gun that he kept in the waistband of his jeans—she didn’t stand a chance.
“And you,” he said, gesturing to Cat with a flick of his fingers.