Page 1 of Hacker Christmas

Prologue - Daisy

The cold metal flaked as I carved another line on the cage floor. Most people wanted to celebrate a ten-year anniversary. The only thing I wanted was to curl up and die. I recounted the tick marks on the cage floor: three thousand six hundred and fifty ticks. I had been held captive for over ten years. There were days when I was unconscious, so I didn’t add a tick. But I had enough ticks to mark my ten-year anniversary of living in hell.

Heels clicked on the wooden staircase—it was the woman in charge of the house. The bitch had an evil streak that rivaled my master’s. My bare butt slid across the cold metal floor of my cage until my back hit the iron bars. The cage stood four feet high and four feet wide. The only kind gesture I had seen in ten years was that the temperature of the room was comfortable. Master didn’t allow clothes, and I couldn’t remember what it felt like to have fabric hug my skin.

Regina Ward, the house manager, flicked the light switch, and I squinted when the dungeon was illuminated. The room didn’t remind me of the BDSM clubs I used to visit in Los Angeles. It reminded me of a torture chamber from the latest serial-killer movie. Well, let’s be real—I’d been in a cage for ten years, and the last movie I saw wasOcean’s Eleven.

The sound of Regina’s heels hitting the pavement made me swivel my head away from the wall of knives. Regina was in her late thirties, and she had black hair that she always wore twisted in a bun. She always wore a pencil skirt and white blouse. If I had to make a guess, the master told her what to wear. In all of my years being locked up, Regina was the only woman I had seen in Master’s house who wasn’t in a cage.

Her lips twisted into an evil grin as she stepped closer to the cage. “Master wants you clean for a party tonight.” No wonder the lady had an evil grin. She enjoyed my screams when Master tortured me. His parties were the worst. They meant I would be everyone’s play toy for hours. Each man would show up with a mask on—I’d never seen anyone’s face. I only hoped the man who wore the Kennedy mask wouldn’t show.

The man who wore the Kennedy mask enjoyed the sight of my blood. After everyone finished using me as their toy, he would spend the rest of the night whipping my body until blood coated the floor and I passed out from the pain. It would then take weeks for my body to heal. Master hadn’t allowed me to be beaten so badly when I was his only pet. Last week, I witnessed his latest kidnapping victim get beaten to death when she tried to escape. Over the years, many women had passed through the dungeon. I would tell them how to stay alive, but they never listened.

Regina opened the cage door. I had no choice but to crawl out, or she would use the cattle prod on my bare skin. As I exited the cage, she tapped the toe of her red high heel on the floor. Everything I needed was in the dungeon—in ten years, I saw the sun twice, when Master had a party outside. They fed me in there. My bathroom was in there.

“You have an hour to get ready and eat.” The witch turned on her heel and went back up the stairs. After she shut the door, I heard the audible click of the steel bar locking in place.

I let out a breath. Sometimes, she enjoyed hitting me for no reason. When I tried to defend myself, she would tell Master, and I would spend hours under his whip. The longer I stayed under his care, the more I wanted to end my own life. In ten years, nobody had found me.Can I make it any longer, waiting for someone to find me? Nope, tonight is my last night. I will offend one of his friends and make sure he kills me. I can’t take it any longer.

The shower felt good as the water ran over my body. Once I finished cleaning my body, I lay down on the couch in the dungeon and tried to formulate a plan.Tonight is the night. I couldn’t take the pain any longer, and I thought no one would still be looking for me.

Missy, the woman who Master killed last week, swore that her father would never stop the search to find her and that we would be free. She was the first kidnapping victim to give me hope, at least until I watched Master beat her until the life went out of her eyes.

I had lost track of time. I heard the loud steps come down the stairs. What surprised me was that it was only one set. Normally, Master had a few friends come down when he had a party. I hurried off the couch and presented myself on my knees. If I wanted him to be mad, I needed to disobey in front of his friends.

The concrete hurt my knees as I kneeled and twined my hands behind my back. I cast my eyes to the floor. I could see Master’s expensive leather shoes as he stepped in front of me. Master was in his late sixties and was one of the most powerful executives in Hollywood. We had met at an after-party following a movie premiere. I had been Annabella Axson’s hairdresser—she was the lead actress for a summer blockbuster, and she had given me a ticket to the party. Generally, I would say no, but the latest tabloid said my Hollywood crush, Aaron Ross, would be there. He was one of the highest-paid actors and a very nice man. Annabella said she had seen him many times at the local BDSM clubs with beautiful subs. I knew I didn’t have a chance at catching his eye, but he was so nice to look at.

The party was in full swing when I showed up, and I was at the bar when Master came up and asked me if I wanted a drink. I knew him for breaking and making careers. I figured I had to say yes to the drink. The sweet taste of Moscato wine was the last thing I remembered about that night. When I woke, I was in the cage.

A kick to one leg brought me out of my walk down memory lane. “Are you not listening, my pet?” Master growled.

“Yes, Master.”

“I asked if you are ready to have fun.”

“Yes, Master.” I was going to stick to my plan to disobey in front of his friends.

He reached down and wrapped his hands through my long blond hair. My hair was naturally brown, but Master didn’t like brown, so Regina came down to the dungeon once a month to dye my hair. When he yanked my hair upward, my only option was to follow. Once I was standing in front of him, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You will have a night to remember.” Something in his voice sent shivers down my spine, and not the good shivers. His voice held no remorse. He was evil to the core.

It seemed we had the same idea. We were both done—I no longer wanted to live, and he no longer wanted me. He pushed me toward the stairs. Slight excitement went through me.I might get to see the sun before I die.I only hoped to see daylight. It had been years. My legs, weak from years of malnutrition, hurt as I climbed the stairs, I stumbled when I heard a cry. It looked as though my replacement had arrived.

As I opened the door, my only wish came true. Sunlight poured in through the windows of Master’s mansion. I couldn’t help but stop and relish the sunlight and the sight of birds flying around outside. I didn’t care if the bright light hurt my eyes. It was the closest I’d been to freedom in years. I could have used the opportunity to run. The most he would have done was kill me, and I had gotten to a point where I didn’t want to live any longer.

Master became irritated and pushed me from behind. I stumbled forward and caught myself against the dining room table. When I looked to the left, I saw the new girl, who couldn’t have been any older than twenty, tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross. Another cross, which I assumed would be my place, stood next to her. When I turned to head toward the cross, Master pulled me by the hair. “Go to the kitchen,” he growled.

I turned and walked in the opposite direction of the crying girl. No matter how many times I’d seen the women Master brought home cry until he beat the life out of them, it still affected me, and I wept on the inside. In the kitchen sat a plate with a steak, mashed potatoes, and a glass of wine. It was all I needed to see. Either Master planned to kill me or give me away, but I knew it would be my last night. “Eat,” he told me before he turned on a heel and walked away.

He didn’t want me to answer, so I stayed quiet. I sat down at the counter and looked around the beautiful home owned by a man who had more money than he knew what to do with and spent his time killing women for pleasure.

The kitchen had a set of French doors. If I could get to them unnoticed, I might be able to outrun the dogs. I had heard the last girl’s screams as the dogs tore through her body. Master had shown me her remains, so I knew what would happen if I ran.

The steak melted on my tongue—I had forgotten what it tasted like. The wine went down with ease. It wasn’t until I finished eating that I noticed I didn’t feel right.Is this how it will end? Did he poison my last meal?

When he walked back into the room, his words were hard to understand: “Looks like it’s taking effect. This will be fun.”

He led me from the kitchen into the living room and strapped me to the second cross. As I had eaten the steak, his friends had arrived. Four men sat on the couches, with different presidential masks on. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see the Kennedy mask. Master walked up and ran his hand down my face. “Well, men, I’ve had this one for ten years. The highest bidder takes her home.” I suddenly understood the drugs. They would make it easier to transport me.

“Each of you will have a go at her, and then the bidding will start.”

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