Page 44 of Ruthless Angel

Daphne raised a brow but didn’t question me. “Whatever you do, don’t fight or try to run. That’s when they force themselves on you. I don’t think they’re supposed to touch us. The buyers don’t like it. Sometimes they do anyway.”

She spoke as if she knew firsthand. Disgust filled me. If Brady or any of his sick friends tried to touch me, I would definitely fight. I may have been their captive but that didn’t mean I had to take it quietly.

“What’s with the drugs?” I asked, taking a bite of toast.

“It’s their way of keeping us complacent. They dose us every night. I figured it was to make sure we couldn’t try to get out when they’re sleeping or out of the house. Maybe they want us to be easy to control addicts. All I know is that it makes me feel like I’m in another world. Fucks me right up.”

It definitely felt that way. At least the Angels had never drugged me. Yet.

Right at the thirty minute mark, the door opened and two men I hadn’t seen before took our dishes. They then took useach to the bathroom, giving us time to use the toilet and clean ourselves up. Thankfully, they didn’t come into the bathroom with me. Probably because there was no window. Nowhere to escape. There was also no mirror. No glass to use as a weapon.

I found a fresh unopened toothbrush under the sink and brushed my teeth. Afraid to take a shower and have someone walk in on me, I washed up the best I could instead. When I was returned to the room, I found a clean t-shirt and sweatpants like what Daphne wore on my bed. Well, at least it was more comfortable than the skirt I currently wore.

I expected to be left alone until the next mealtime. No such luck. Not long after the men locked us back into the room, Brady came in. He wore a massive grin, loving his victory over the Angels.

“Good morning, Clover,” he smirked, coming to sit on the bed next to me. “Think your boys are looking for you yet? I hope it’s making them fucking crazy trying to find you. They’ll never track you here. There’s not a damn thing linking me to this house. We’re in the middle of nowhere. They’ll never find it.”

A tremor rippled down my spine. Doing my best to hide my fear, I said, “Eventually they will catch up to you. What you did to Blaze will look like a fun time after they get through with you.”

“You think so, huh?” Brady grabbed me by the hair, using it to slam me down onto the bed. “Then I better make it worth it.”

I shrieked as he climbed on top of me. To my utter shock and horror, Brady undid his pants, pulling out his revolting dick.

He tried to shove it into my mouth, mashing it against my face. I clamped my jaw shut tight, refusing to be budged. He’d have to kill me first. If he got that nasty thing between my teeth, I’d bite it right off.

“Open up, bitch. Let’s see what makes you so damn special to them.” When I didn’t obey, Brady slapped me across the face with his dick.

I twisted and bucked beneath him. Anything to get him off me. After several minutes of torment, he gave up and climbed off me.

Brady chuckled, enjoying every second of having me at his mercy. “I’ve got another four days with you before you go to auction, Clover. I plan to enjoy them.”

Leaving me with those cryptic parting words, Brady left the room, locking the door behind him. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the tears that had gathered fall. I would not give him that kind of power over me.

“They’re not supposed to touch us,” Daphne repeated softly. “Sometimes they do anyway.”

They’d taken my tracker. They’d taken my phone. I had no way of reaching out for help. Silently, I willed my Angels to feel me. To hear me. To find me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CLOVER

The following three days passed in a haze. Every night they came to drug us, just like Daphne said.

During the day, Brady came to harass me. Sometimes he simply taunted me, doing his best to make me break. Other times he groped me and tried to stick his dick in my mouth. He didn’t care that Daphne was in the room with us. He enjoyed it.

Then came the day Daphne was prepped for the auction. They held the auctions on the weekend. Friday night in one location. Saturday night in another. Both locations were known only to those who participated in the skin trade.

A woman I’d never seen before entered the room with Brady and Pete. She didn’t appear to be that much older than us. Late twenties maybe. Her dark hair was clipped up. A burn scar marked the side of her face. She didn’t look either of us in the eyes.

“Get showered and get back here. Hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.” She barked at Daphne, shoving her toward the men who took her to the bathroom to shower.

I sat on my bed watching the woman lay out some clothes on Daphne’s bed. A little pink dress with matching heels and a few accessories like earrings and a bracelet.

“Who are you?” I dared to ask when she’d continued to ignore my presence.

“My name is Marilyn. Not that it matters. You won’t be here long. We don’t need to make conversation.” Marilyn’s tone was short and clipped.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Marilyn wasn’t here by choice. She was as much a captive as Daphne and me.

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