Page 19 of Devoured
“Get the fuck off of me!” I yelled.
“Shit,” a male voice mumbled. The man grabbed my arms and held them behind me, and I reeled my legs back, aiming for anything, hoping to kick his cock. He moved out of the way, giving me as much space as he could while still holding me tight.
“What the hell? We gotta lock this bitch up.”
“Order said no restraints.”
“Let go of me!” I yelled. “Security! Help!”
They ignored me.
“Boss was okay with that?”
“An order is an order.”
Boss? Order? I writhed, wriggled, cursed louder than a siren, tried anything I could to get loose, but then both of their hands were on me, pulling me up and taking me somewhere.
“You fuckers,” I hissed, trying to snake out of their grasp. “Let me go!”
“That’s not part of the deal.”
“Should we use the cunt before we hand her over?”
“Nah. Boss wants first dibs.” A shudder ran through me. They were treating me like a product to be conquered. What the hell? “Besides, the cunt’s not my type. What about you?”
“Not my type either.”
I bit my lip so hard it bled, trying not to let myself get transferred back to those memories of being in that old house, looking at my foster dad, but it was too late.You’re lucky you’re not my type, he had said, as if my alternative style, even then, had saved me from his wrath. But my foster sister didn’t have that protection.
You’re a monster, I had said as I shielded her body with mine.She’s just a kid. But we were both kids. I was barely twelve years old.
Are you sure you want to do this, Iris?he asked, the spark of violence flashing in his eyes.It’s a large price to pay.
I hadn’t been able to get out the words. All I could do was nod. Bob my chin. That frantic bowing of my head so that he got it over with already. Because no matter what the price was, I wasn’t going to let her take his cruelty ever again. He had kicked and punched me until he grew bored of it.
My foster sister was put into a new foster home. DCFS put me in a group home then, saying I had ‘behavioral issues’ that would benefit from a group setting, all because I stood up to my foster dad.
But at least that fucker went to jail.
This was different. If I could survive that as a kid, I could get through this now.
A car door opened. They slung me inside. The metal creaked, dull pains coursing through my back, sharp jolts each time my knees touched the surface. I sat up and pulled the hood off, but the doors slammed shut, the click of the locks heightening my senses. I had to get out. The rush of the engine. The icy metal on my hands. My chin bobbing. Always bobbing. How could I self-soothe now?
There was a single window on the back, which showed a flash of dark hair and suits. Then nothing.
Was it the Adlers?
The Adler family was a crime syndicate in Sage City but had their ties in Cresting Heights, and in other states, though they had ended their protection of the Dahlia District recently. My best friend, Teagen, had been abducted by them. The dark hair, the suits, the van—all of it screamed the Adlers.
Did Roland have something to do with this? Had he given Adlers a renewed interest in the Dahlia District?
The van’s engine rumbled as it started moving. I checked my pockets; they had taken my phone and my wallet.Shit. As steady as I could, I got on my knees, cringing at the pain, then lifted my head, trying to see out of the window. The lights along the highway disappeared, leaving a dark road in its place. Where were they taking me? I couldn’t see anything, and I wasn’t familiar enough with the roads to get any clues. I slumped back down, then tried to think.
Think. Think.Think.
We slammed to a halt. The front doors opened and shut. The crunch of gravel. Multiple feet. Then a familiar voice:
“You’ve got some cargo that belongs to me,” a deep, smooth, but muffled voice.
