Page 2 of Mistress Mayhem

“They have to show their faces eventually, right?” I ask, trying to come up with some way out of this mess we’ve found ourselves in. “They’ll reveal their plans, right? And then we just have to figure out a way to escape. It shouldn’t be too hard, I don’t think.”

Masculine laughter sounds throughout the room, surprising me. “The two of you won’t be escaping, little Avery. Though your conversation has been quite entertaining. It’s adorable that you think nothing illegal happens outside of Mayhem. Your parents really have sheltered you, haven’t they? Lockwood is a hotbed for illegal activities year-round. There’s just enough money thrown around to keep it covered up.”

I can barely believe my ears. Not that I don’t believe the rich have enough money to cover anything up, but this isn’t the way our world is supposed to work. For the last two hundred years, we’ve lived with peace and safety in our world. Mayhem allows everyone a release, but then we all go back to being the perfect citizens we’re expected to be. There hasn’t been an execution for illegal activity in at least forty years. What this man is saying can’t be true, can it?

“Spoiled little rich girls.” The man laughs again. “You’ve just found yourselves in the deep end. The both of you caught the eyes of some very rich, very powerful men who want to use you in any way they want. Hence, why you’re here. They pay very well, and I always deliver. But don’t worry ladies, you won’t have to wait in suspense for long. They should be arriving very soon. Until then, I think it would be best if you all slept.”

There’s a hissing noise, and within moments, my head and eyes feel heavy. I try to fight against it, realizing we’ve been drugged once more, but there’s nothing I can do.

“I love you, Charlotte,” I call out to her just before I’m pulled back into oblivion.

I sit up with a gasp.

I take a few measured breaths as I look around at my surroundings.

I’m no longer chained and in the dark. Instead, I’m lying on a soft bed with light filtering in through windows.

For a moment, I wonder if it was all a dream, but that thought flies away as soon as I realize the room I’m in has glass walls. Looking past the room, I can see more rooms, like the one I’m in, in all directions. I can’t be sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say there are fifteen to twenty rooms like mine, and each of the rooms holds a girl.

I step off the bed gingerly, my head spinning as my hands fly out to catch myself if I fall. It takes a few moments for my head to stop spinning, but luckily, I don’t fall over. As soon as I have my balance, I run over to the wall, banging on it until Charlotte’s head pops up from the bed.

Her eyes are wide as she looks around her. She blinks up at me, tears filling her intense brown eyes as she climbs to her feet and moves to stand at the glass wall of her room. There’s a five-foot hallway between us as we each lay our hands on the glass.

“Are you okay, Char?” I ask, eyes running up and down her body, looking for any injuries. Her rich brown skin seems unmarred, but I’m unsure if she has any injuries beneath her clothing—which has definitely changed since we were walking out of the movies. She’s dressed in a white negligee that reveals more than it covers but looks amazing against her dark skin. Her long braids swing from side to side, the hot pink beads clacking together as she looks up and down the hallway.

I glance down to see I’m also wearing a negligee, though mine is a deep midnight blue that’s almost an exact match for my eyes. What the hell?

“I’m okay. Are you? Fuck Ave, where are we? What the hell is going on?”

There’s a snort behind me, and I turn my head to find a girl around mine and Charlotte’s age sitting up on her bed, shaking her head at us. She’s a gorgeous redhead with pale skin and freckles, but she looks far from friendly. “You want to know what’s going on? You might want to sit down for this one.”

I glance at Charlotte with a shrug, and we both move to sit on our beds. I’m surprised that I can hear both of them so clearly with us being in rooms surrounded by glass. A glance at the top of the room shows rows of speakers, and I realize I can hear them because someone is allowing me to hear them.

“My name is Abby. I was the first girl they brought in about a month ago, I think. It’s easy to lose track of days here.” Abby shakes her head. “They drug us regularly and move us at night. I’m sure it’s to keep us confused, but they always put me next to the new girls so I can explain the situation you find yourselves in. I think the two of you will be the last. There’s only twenty rooms, and the two of you are number nineteen and twenty.”

“But why?”

Abby lifts an eyebrow. “Let me get this out, and then you can ask your questions. But first, why don’t you tell me your names and ages? My full name is Abigail Nightingale, and I’m seventeen.”

I bite my lip, trying to figure out if I should give her this information or not. Charlotte doesn’t seem to have the same hold ups I do as she blurts out, “Charlotte Dupree. I’m sixteen—we’re both sixteen.”

“Avery Wellington.” I shake my head, eyes narrowing. “You go to our school. I haven’t heard anything about you going missing.”

“Of course not. Do you think the government wants it to get out that there’s illegal activity going on outside of Mayhem? That would cause mass chaos. But that’s not important right now. We’re here because they intend to sell us to the highest bidder on Mayhem. In the meantime, they’ll be training you.”

I don’t like the way she does air quotes around the word training, but remembering her warning to hold questions, I gesture for her to continue.

“They intend to make us pliable so that we won’t fight back. That’s what the drugs are for. Plus, there are the beatings and the rape. I’m not going to lie. Being here is hell, but at least you should have some idea of what you’re in for. I wasn’t prepared. Don’t fight them, it just makes everything worse.”

Abby’s lips keep moving, but I can no longer hear her. I see her sigh, shaking her head as she lays back down.

I turn to Charlotte. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes squint at me before sher lips start moving, but I can’t hear her.

“Sorry, Miss Wellington,” a masculine voice sounds throughout the room. “We don’t allow our guests to interact much. We wouldn’t want you to get ideas about banding together to try to escape, after all.”

Glaring up at the speakers, I catch a blinking red light out of the corner of my eyes and realize they’re watching me. “Who are you? You can’t get away with this. Neither mine nor Charlotte’s families will let this go.”

---