Page 12 of Manacled Hearts

For some reason that answer doesn’t satisfy him, and a brief glance is exchanged with the redhead.

“Did you find them?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Not yet. Their operation is big. Established. You’re safe, though. Do not worry about that, okay?” He says it with such conviction, I almost believe him.

I’m not sure what safety is anymore. The feeling of it is foreign now. I nod and push the empty bowl away from me, thanking Katya, before I step off the stool and walk toward my sister. She snuggles into me, laughing at whatever Scooby Doo has been doing. She’s barely spoken about what happened to us, and this truly worries me. Is this how her trauma manifests? Did she compartmentalize in such a deep way that she has no idea what happened?

Maybe…

I sigh because the thought is ridiculous, considering my situation.

Maybe she needs a therapist.

I try not to laugh at myself. What am I gonna do? Get my ass to the doctor and tell her that my sister and I are homeless, that we got kidnapped by a human trafficking ring, rescued by something that looks a lot like a crime syndicate, and now I’m worried my sister has repressed trauma? I’m sure the therapist will just be like okay, let’s crack on then, and they’re not going to call CPS and the police.

But I have to do something. She needs to have the best care. I can’t fail her again, especially not when it comes to her mental health.

The last thing I want to do is ask these people for help. They took us in, but I do not want them to give me much more than this. Not when it might come at a cost I cannot pay.

I know nothing of this organization. They’re probably just as bad as the people who took us in the first place.

No, not as bad.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sleeping in the most comfortable bed in the world every night.

There has to be another way to get Maya into therapy. I will make it happen somehow. Maybe some homeschooling too; I don’t want her schoolwork to suffer.

But I cannot accept more help. I refuse to sell my soul to them. I need to find a way out of this limbo. Regain some strength and then… get a job, I guess.

That thought makes me even more uncomfortable because it implies some sort of permanence here, in Queenscove. And that just can’t be.

I cannot stay. We cannot stay.

We have something to return to back in Fleeton.

CHAPTER 2

EVELYN

Two men stand before Katya and me in her kitchen. Ice fills my chest, spreading over my lungs as far too many scenarios go through my head as I stare at the bald men. The instinct to run, find my sister, and hide with her, is straining my muscles.

But it’s Katya’s nonchalant presence keeping me in place as two pairs of brown eyes watch us with straight faces.

They look so similar.

“Evelyn, this is Brinn”—she points at the shorter, stockier man—“and this is Jay, his brother.” She nods toward the taller, leaner one, with softer features.

Ah, that makes sense.

Yet my nerves haven’t calmed. Fisting my hands, I try to hide my apprehension, but I don’t think it’s working.

“They look out for me,” Katya continues. “They’re usually either here, the apartment next door, or walking about the building. They’ve been staying out of sight while you two got more used to your environment, but it’s about time you met since you’ll see more of them.”

My chest staggers with heavy, strained breaths. Having these strangers around me is not my idea of security. Logically, I know that Katya’s ease around them should help me calm down, but… they are still men.

Visions of the man with a lisp snap into my mind, and a shudder ripples through my spine at the lingering disgust.

“It’s okay, they’re here for my security, and now for yours and Maya’s, too,” Katya says quickly, noticing the sudden shake in my bones.

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