Page 12 of Savage Sin

“Too much of what?”

“I don’t know for sure. Whatever you had in this.” I can’t see anything, but I know exactly what is being pressed into my hands. The black baggie.

“That explains the headache, I guess. But I had something else with me. A flash drive. It was with this.”

There’s a pause, and when the same woman speaks, there’s a hesitation. “They took everything. This dropped from your pocket when they forced us to change your close. I didn’t look for anything else. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. You were crying and—”

“It’s okay,” I cut her off. “It’s fine. Thank you for helping me.” I press a hand to my forehead and try to slow the circling of blackness. It’s like a black hole inside my head, turning and turning with no beginning or end. I never want to take another pill in my life.

Someone from the opposite side of me with warmer hands than the last person lifts me and props me up against a wall.

“Try not to move too much and lower your voice. It carries in here. They don’t like it when we talk.”

“Give her more of those pills. It shut her up fast last time.”

Not going to happen. But I opt to ignore the bitter voice and focus on the bit of energy I have where it can help.

Beneath me, I feel a rush of water and it isn’t as silent as I once thought. The constant gurgling and vibrations tell me I’m running out of time to get out of here and back to my sister.

I try to push to my knees, but it’s not happening. I shove down the nausea and fight to remain upright. Whatever they did to knock me out is wreaking havoc with my stomach and head. I had no idea a dark room could turn so fast. I clutch at my stomach, but honestly, it’s not helping much.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Take it easy. You’re not getting out of here anyway.”

“How long have I been out?” My slurring fades and I eventually stop drooling all over my chin. The forward thrust I’ve been feeling slows, like we’ve reduced speed. Millions of thoughts race to mind. Rushing water and metal equals a boat. Since I can barely feel the sway, that means it’s a large one. A ship. We are at sea.

My panic and fear meld into one long thought.

Ohgodohgodohgod.

Breathing suddenly becomes painful and I can finally see. Only its silver dots and that only means I am about to pass out.

It’s not long until the vibrations fade and I can’t feel movement at all. We’ve docked. Or someone has stopped us.

I know better than to hope we are getting rescued.

More loud thuds.

“Two days. I think. It feels like two weeks. But they’ve come in twice with food. So two days. I think,” she nervously stammers.

Another loud boom reverberates through the metal, causing the pressure where we are being held to pound against my eardrums. A row of sharp pings like metal meeting metal sting the senses further.

“Is that common?”

“No!” There’s a lot of shuffling and more muffled cries.

Pirates? Coast Guard? Who the fuck knows! But anyone is a godsend at this point. They have guns. And powerful ones from the reverberations echoing off walls. With any luck, they want our captors dead. Or at least I hope they are on our side and not my step-father’s.

I scrub at my face and pull my hair away from my eyes in time for a door to swing open. Age, rust and grime make the hinges scream. A burst of light cracks through the space between me and my only hope of escape. Serrated knives in the eyeballs would feel better than the stabbing pain, but I fight to keep my eyes open. I throw a hand up and blink fast. I move into the shadows just in time to witness someone with brown hair and a face full of fear getting dragged out.

“What’s happening? Where is she being taken?” I ask frantically, but I am only given silence. I test my restraints to find I’m not anchored in place. My heart thuds.

“What’s going on? Someone speak, for God’s sake!”

“I don’t know. They usually come in, slap us, hit us with the butts of their guns and tell us to shut up. And that’s it. Now you know what we know. You’re the last one in. Why don’t you tell us?”

Oh, I know. This has my step-father and that fucking Russian written all over it. “Silas did this.” No doubt the name doesn’t mean anything to anyone besides me, but it feels good condemning him out loud. It is all suddenly too clear. I close my eyes and breathe in. I swallow back the lump of choking fear wrapping itself around the throat. It’s like a weed growing into the pit of my stomach. I swore the last time I left his basement, I would never let another man put a set of chains on me. That didn’t last long. But what never changes is the fact no one is coming for me. They didn’t when I was young and they sure they hell aren’t now. A byproduct of growing up secluded. No one knows to look for me. No friends, no family outside my sister. My mother is useless against Cortes. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I choke them down like I do the fear.

I close my eyes and rest my head on my knees. “Think, Persi. Think.” I rake my fingers into my hair. A move Silas did before… “Before he injected me with something. The bastard stabbed meanddrugged me.” I feel for the phantom pain of the needle in my skin and find a tiny knot a few inches below my ear.

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