Page 11 of Filthy and Dirty with my Captors

Lucky him.

I’m sure I scarred those men for life. They’re probably back in their rooms crying about what a mistake they made kidnapping me when they could’ve had some skinny little thing. I mean, there are lots of girls on that site. Why did they pick me? I’m thick and curvy with stretch marks. It’s hard to believe anyone bid on me, let alone kidnapped me for sex.

Am I feeling flattered by the kidnapping? This has to be some sort of survival instinct my brain has sunk into.

I can’t believe I actually thought I had my life figured out. I was going to sell my virginity, get paid, buy a house, start a little farm, and go to nursing school. I’d pay Owen back for all he’d done for me, and I hoped I’d have a little left for some new clothes. I really wanted to update my turquoise collection.

Unfortunately, that dream is officially crushed. I won’t be making money at all. Instead, if I ever make it back to reality, I’ll be in debt the rest of my days paying back the actual bidder of my auction. It’s a stupid rule the website has. I think it’s to keep everyone honest. Maybe they’d have mercy on me if they knew I was kidnapped.

What am I saying? I’m not getting out of here alive.

The door cracks open and a man steps inside wearing another ski mask. I prefer this version of the men. Looking them in the eye while they fuck my life is much more satisfying.

“Hey.” The man sets a breakfast tray onto the bed with fluffy crisp waffles, fresh strawberries, bacon, a cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice. “I already ate, but I figured I’d sit in here, keep you company for a bit, then take you for a walk.” This man wears jeans and an unbuttoned flannel with a white T-shirt underneath. His beard is long and full, spilling from under the mask. He’s definitely younger than Moose, but I can’t tell how much.

“A walk sounds nice. Do I have to be blindfolded the whole time?”

He drags in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Not the whole time. Once we get to where we are going, you’ll get a chance to take it off.”

I bite into the waffle and then the bacon, shoving food into my mouth like I’ve been starved for weeks. “I guess that’s something,” I say with a full mouth. “What day is it?”

“The sixteenth.” He sits on the edge of the bed as I eat. Already, I can tell his energy is softer than Moose’s. It might be even softer than Zee’s.

“So, you’ve only had me one night.” I sip the coffee. “I was worried I’d been passed out longer.”

“No. Just the one night. You feeling okay? I heard you lost your shit last night.”

I roll my eyes and bite into the waffle. “Yeah, little bit. Am I the laughingstock of the farmhouse?”

He tugs on his mask. “No, but there was a lot of concern. If you ask me, I think it’s my buddy who’s losing his mind.”

Is this the crack in the system people talk about? The obvious issue between criminals that allows the victim to exploit the situation?

“Yeah, I hear this was your buddy Zee’s idea.” I stay focused on my breakfast as though I don’t care about what he’s saying at all. “What’s his goal?”

The man lowers his head and wets his lips before speaking. “You need to talk to Zee.”

I stuff the last strawberry into my mouth and chew slowly, savoring the sweet crisp and gushing juice as though I haven’t been properly fed in a decade. “I’ve talked to him. He’s not talking back. I don’t know, I’m just… this whole thing would be a lot easier to swallow if I knew what was coming next.”

The man nods slowly, and I watch his square hand wave me toward him. “Let’s get you outside. Some fresh air will help.”

I fail to see how fresh air is going to help me through a kidnapping, but stretching my legs sounds better than sitting here endlessly asking questions I’ll never get an answer to. Besides, I need more time with Hawk. He seems like the type I can get going about something random and parlay that back into a deeper conversation. He may not answer the deep questions, but there’s a possibility I could extract something that can help me in the long run.

“Fresh air sounds good,” I say, sliding from the bed. “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”

“Oh.” Hawk pops around the corner and returns with a black sundress and a pink sweater. “This should work, right?”

“Yeah, but where did it come from?” The tags are still on the dress and the sweater.

“Zee had me stop at the store yesterday and grab you a few things. Sorry I haven’t put them in here yet. Hopefully it fits. He thought he knew your size, but I know everything fits differently.”

Who is this guy and how does Zee know my size? I guess he could’ve gotten that information from theFantasy Driverwebsite. God, why didn’t I think about how perverse all these men would be?

I can hear my mother’s lecture miles away as though she has a direct line to my brain. ‘This is your fault, Rosalynn, now get yourself out of it.’

She never was the soft, caring type of mother. I always thought it was because she had to be both mother and father to me, but part of me thinks she liked a good power trip, and I was the easiest target.

Looks like I won’t be unpacking that in therapy anytime soon.

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