Page 67 of Knot Forgotten

He laughs like I’ve told a joke. “Lucky for you, I have buyers just looking for a hole to knot.”

Bile climbs up my throat at his meaning. I’m going to be sick. Fathers are supposed to protect their children, not sell them off to the highest bidder.

“You owe me. If your mother hadn’t whisked you away, everything would have been perfect. Valentine will give me my freedom once I bring you in. The ultimate sacrifice, my daughter.”

The blood drains from my head, making me lightheaded, as I helplessly shake my head again. Why am I still standing here? Nothing he has to say will make any difference.

Finally, I take a step, twisting around in the other direction at the same time. Too late, I notice the woman behind me and the open car door next to her. She jabs something into my arm, pushing drugs into my system and making my limbs go limp. My father is at my side as if he’s helping me, while the woman says something to a passing couple.

“Her sugar is low. Her dad will take her to the hospital. Everything is fine,” the woman says, telling the lie like she’s done it a hundred times.

My vision goes fuzzy at the edges as they maneuver me into the waiting vehicle. Saying words that should be comforting but coming from them are terrifying. I’m helpless as my father lifts my legs and shoves them into the backseat. He leans over me and buckles me in.

“Child lock is on. I wouldn’t want you to get any ideas while we are on the freeway,” he mutters. The door clicks shut, the sound like a gunshot to my system. Not a single person steps in to help me. No one even knows what is happening.

Darkness claims me as they climb into the car.

I come back to myself as my father is lifting me from the backseat. There is still some kind of drug in my system because I feel heavy in my own skin. The skyline of New York City shines over his shoulder as he turns to walk toward the building.

“Let me go,” I slur, attempting to struggle, which amounts to slapping at his chest and swinging my legs uselessly.

“Dear, you probably can’t even stand,” the woman says as she holds the door open for my father. “I used an extra tranquilizer, you have a little extra meat on your bones. But the amount I used incapacitates men twice your size.”

We enter a dark hall, the light flickering above us doing nothing to add to the brightness. A stench hangs in the air that smells like a combination of the city streets and something I can’t place. Maybe too many musks in one place, mixing with a sickly sweet scent of artificial perfumes?

I gag on the thick air, losing the contents of my stomach all over the front of my father’s shirt. He swears, his fingers digging into my skin where they hold me, and I cry out.

“You’ll pay for that,” he threatens, an echo of the past.

“Don't bruise the merchandise,” an even colder voice says from the shadows.

Metal clanging on metal echoes in the room, and then my father is dropping me on a rock hard cot. He kneels next to me, gripping my chin. Hard.

“You've always been pitiful, Erin, not even worth my last name. Try not to embarrass yourself when they cut that mark off your neck and clean you up.”

“Enough, Garrett, we'll take it from here.” I shiver at the ice in the man's voice and huddle against the wall.

My father stands up, glaring down at me like he would love nothing more than to beat me. The man at his back clears his throat, and my father turns away from me and exits the barred cell I'm in.

Panic blooms inside my chest and attempts to take control, but whatever they drugged me with prevents it. Small miracles.

The lock clicks in place, and I watch as my father and that woman leave without a backward glance. The man who encouraged him along pins me with a pitying look before heading in the opposite direction.

Silence falls, and I drift in and out of consciousness. When I wake next, the cell isn't as dark, and I realize there are high windows that let light in. Dust motes float in the stream of sunlight cast across the plain cement floor, taking me away from here and back to a better time and place.

Laughter rings out, my boys wild in the woods. The light streaming through the leaves and branches overhead casts a magical feeling over everything it touches.

I feel lighter than I have in months, no more school for the summer, the ability to be with the four of them from the time the sun rises until it says goodnight. All of my worries feel like they are dancing with the pollen in the air.

“Rinny.” Matt bounds toward me, swinging me around until I squeal.

When he puts me down, the others have arrived, and I grin at each of them.

“We are free for the summer! Daytime swims, catching fireflies at night, the world is our oyster,” Blake shouts to the treetops as if we are the only ones left in the entire universe.

The guys cheer, and then we are running again, down the trail to our treehouse. Riley takes the ladder two steps at a time, Cam right behind him. I scamper up next, Blake and Matt bringing up the rear.

I collapse to the beanbag next to Riley, and Blake tosses us each a water bottle.

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