The night I was taken, I don’t remember much.
I remember coming back from the beach party. I remember showering, brushing my teeth, and then going out to stand on the edge of sand outside of my cabana and watch the waves crash down on the moonlit shore.
I remember crawling under just a sheet and letting my eyes close as I thought about the men who’d made me feel amazing over the last two nights. I thought about the new wild me, and what this all meant.
I remember falling asleep to the thought that for the first time in a while, I was truly happy.
And then I remember screaming.
I remember the hands, the gag pulled tight over my mouth, the ropes pulled tight around my wrists. The blindfold slipped over my eyes, the adrenaline and fear pounding through my veins like fire as I was pulled from the bed.
“What’s happening?”
My voice felt broken and weak as the door to what sounded like a van slammed shut, an engine roaring to life.
I got nothing in reply.
“Please,” I asked, my voice trembling, the fear threatening to tear me apart. “What’s going on?”
The van drove in silence.
I remember sitting in the silence, trying to count breaths, but quickly losing track of that and the passage of time as we drove on. The van stopped, there was the sound of muffled voices, and then we drove on. There was the sound of a much bigger rumbling sound, and it took me a second to realize it was an engine.
Oh my God.
A plane engine.
The van shut off, and the door opened. Hands grabbed me, and I screamed again, lashing out with my heels. But the hands were strong, and they held me tight before carrying me out into the heat of the island night and then up a flight of stairs.
“Please! Why are you doing this!” I screamed it again and again, but still only got silence.
Hands grabbed me, yanking my arm out tight, and I felt my blood run cold as the chill of a needle pressed against my skin.
“No, wait!”
There was a pierce, a numbness, and fading, and then I was out.
That’s all I remember.
Chapter 9
The smell of musty earth. The darkness. The hospital-gown and lack of real clothes.
All of it came rushing back as I lay on the cot. All the moments back at the beach — the resort, the ocean, the men I’d spent some amazing moments with.
Gone.
I shifted, and suddenly, the metal of the handcuffs bit into my wrists, sharply reminding me that I was bound. I felt my pulse starting to race faster and faster as I glanced up and saw the thin chain connecting the handcuffs to the wall.
My heart froze, and the reality of my situation started to grip me like a cold, dead hand. I was near naked, and alone, cold, and handcuffed to the wall, in the dark.
I’d been taken, and I didn’t even know why or where to. Or what was going to happen to me.
I closed my eyes, shivering, when I heard the metallic clank of a key in a lock.
I sat bolt upright as the rusted door to the far side of the room swung wide.
“Well, hello beautiful.”
The man was bathed in shadow, his voice gravelly and rough.
“I do hope you’re enjoying your accommodations, princess.”
“Where am I?” I croaked, shifting back on the couch as he stepped into the room.
“Room service prompt? Room cleaned and serviced to your liking?”
“I— I don’t know who you think I am, or why—”
“Oh, trust me. I know exactly who you are.”
The man suddenly stepped into the dingy light, bringing into focus his rough features, and the cowboy hat on his head. “Name’s Mitch, honey. But you can call me…” He trailed off and chuckled before he spat on the ground. “Shit, you can just call me Mitch, alright?”
“What— what do you want?”
He grinned wickedly. “What do I want? Shit girl, I already got it. It’s more what happens next.”
I shivered, eyeing him as my heart pounded in my throat. “Which is?”
“Let's get something straight, princess,” he suddenly snarled. “I own you now, okay? You’re mine.”
“What?”
“Yeah, and see, if your dad—”
“My dad’s dead, asshole.”
Mitch’s brows raised at the venom in my voice, but he just chuckled. “I know that, Cassandra,”
My name coming out of his mouth sent a chill down my back.
“Fine, your stepdad, if we’re going to split fuckin’ hairs. Your stepdad — if they ever want to see you again — is going to pay.”
I doubt that
All Frank had was my mom and dad’s banked money.
Mitch seemed to misread the look on my face. “Well, better hope he does, princess.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” I spit back.
Mitch grinned. “Feisty,” he chuckled as he adjusted his cowboy hat and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll break that.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my skin crawling as his eyes moved over my bare legs.
“Excuse me? What happens if he doesn’t pay?”
Mitch shrugged. “Simple. We make our money elsewhere.”
“What does that—”
“We’ll sell you.”
I froze, my blood turning to ice inside my veins.
“To the highest bidder. Probably some nephew of a middle eastern prince or something. Great market for pretty young things like yourself.”
I was frozen, balking at his words and feeling the room spin out from under me.
Mitch chuckled. “Stay a little feisty. They like that.”
The room spun as I dropped to the cot in a daze, my whole world turned upside down as I tried to grapple with what he was saying. I was seeing but not really, hearing but not entirely, as he muttered something else. I was a captive, and there was the very real possibility of being sold like property to the highest bidder.
And I had no illusions about what sort of property.
“Boys, get her cleaned up.”
I dropped my head into my hands, staring at the floor as I heard footsteps enter the room. I blinked hot tears as three pairs of boots walked over and stopped in front of me.
Slowly, I lifted my head.
And my whole world broke.
Oh my God…
It was them; all three of them standing right there in front of me.
They weren’t shirtless this time. They weren’t wearing swimsuits and flashing me grins, or pouring me drinks, or making my body feel things it never felt before.
But it didn’t matter, because right there standing in front of me were Foster, Gareth, and Zane.
“Don’t say a word,” Zane husked, an urgency in his eye.
“Get ‘er cleaned, boys,” Mitch tossed over his shoulder as he stepped from the room.
Their eyes stared down at me in horror, jaws set, matching looks of shock on their faces.
“Don’t say a word, Cassandra.”
Chapter 10
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
Fury, fear, and a horrible feeling of betrayal sliced through me as I sat there staring at the last three men I’d have ever expected to see in that place.
“Cassandra, please,” Foster growled. “Keep your voice down.”
“What?!” I screamed, scrambling across the cot away from them.
“Cassandra—”