trying to protect, but it was no use.
Leather
Jacket threw me to the ground and kicked. His steel-capped boots cracked a rib
as I collapsed under his abuse; the snap resonated, making me scream and curl
into a ball.
I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even cry, the pain was insurmountable.
Kick after kick. My breasts, stomach, thigh, ankle. Each blow exploded with
heat worse than the last one.
Another
scream erupted as one kick caught my solar plexus, causing the towel to unravel.
I was beyond simple agony. I was in hell.
He
raged something in his native tongue, fisting a hand in my hair, pulling me
upright. My skin puckered in terror as he pulled back, gaining momentum to slam
my head into the wall.
“Basta!”
I
knew that word. Enough.
Leather
Jacket released me; I slumped to the floor. Every inch wailed with pain. The
chill of wood against bare skin reminded me I was beaten and naked. So
stupid, Tess. So, so stupid. You can’t win. Just give them what they want . I
was worse off by disobeying: a shivering mess on the floor, incapable of
anything but weakness.
Brax.
How I wished Brax was here. He’d know what to do. How to keep me safe. I was
such an ignoramus to think I could stand up to these men.
Who were they anyway?
I
latched onto a word: trafficker. It blared like an angry hurricane, hurling me
further into terror. As much as I wanted to deny the realization, I knew.
I
was being trafficked. Me and these women were about to disappear around the
world, exchanged for money, no regard for us as people—we were belongings.
I’d
read enough horrible news to know the window of saving a smuggled woman was
very short—only a few days before they were never seen again.
No
one but my parents and Brax knew I was in Mexico. My parents wouldn’t know I’d
ever gone missing—they never called or texted. It would be months before they
noticed my absence. And Brax. My heart choked. Brax might be dead for all I
knew. Dead and cold and blue under a man’s urinal.
The
man with the scar shoved Leather Jacket away, reclaiming my leash. He tugged
the rope, twinging my neck. “Get up.”
I
wanted to laugh. He expected me to stand when my body was cracked and broken?
The beating taught me something, though. Obedience was paramount. Nothing wrong
in following orders if it meant I survived another day. So, even though it
killed me, I fumbled to my feet.
Breathing
hard, my entire body wanted to weep, but my eyes remained dry. These men didn’t
deserve my tears.
Jagged
Scar wrapped fingers around my bicep, holding some of the weight. He gave a
lopsided grin, shrugging. “You can make this easy. It’s only temporary. Keep
your fight for your new owner.”
My
mind blanked with shock; I blinked. He confirmed my suspicions and I wished I
was wrong.
Jagged
Scar pulled me forward, both by his grip and the rope. Injuries screamed,
especially the cracked rib, but together we shuffled down the corridor. The
line behind started up again, each woman taken into a different room. Would I
ever see them again?
Leather
Jacket smirked as he opened a door, and Jagged Scar guided me inside. Just like
the cell we lived in: a windowless room with only one door.
The
lock clicking closed set off panic in my chest like an atomic bomb.
Everything
about the space was non-descript, apart from the torture contraption in the
centre of the room, half dentist chair, half gynaecologist table with stirrups
and levers.
Beside
it rested a stainless steel table full of instruments from my nightmares, all
glinting wicked sharp under the huge spotlight hanging above.
My
mouth snapped shut, and I huddled, trying to become invisible. Switch off,
Tess. Disappear from this hell.
Needles,
scalpels, glass vials full of crystal liquid, and leather straps heralded my
doom as Jagged Scar pushed forward. I had no energy, zapped with pain, but I
spun away. I couldn’t get on that chair. I couldn’t.
The
rope around my neck
Leather
Jacket threw me to the ground and kicked. His steel-capped boots cracked a rib
as I collapsed under his abuse; the snap resonated, making me scream and curl
into a ball.
I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even cry, the pain was insurmountable.
Kick after kick. My breasts, stomach, thigh, ankle. Each blow exploded with
heat worse than the last one.
Another
scream erupted as one kick caught my solar plexus, causing the towel to unravel.
I was beyond simple agony. I was in hell.
He
raged something in his native tongue, fisting a hand in my hair, pulling me
upright. My skin puckered in terror as he pulled back, gaining momentum to slam
my head into the wall.
“Basta!”
I
knew that word. Enough.
Leather
Jacket released me; I slumped to the floor. Every inch wailed with pain. The
chill of wood against bare skin reminded me I was beaten and naked. So
stupid, Tess. So, so stupid. You can’t win. Just give them what they want . I
was worse off by disobeying: a shivering mess on the floor, incapable of
anything but weakness.
Brax.
How I wished Brax was here. He’d know what to do. How to keep me safe. I was
such an ignoramus to think I could stand up to these men.
Who were they anyway?
I
latched onto a word: trafficker. It blared like an angry hurricane, hurling me
further into terror. As much as I wanted to deny the realization, I knew.
I
was being trafficked. Me and these women were about to disappear around the
world, exchanged for money, no regard for us as people—we were belongings.
I’d
read enough horrible news to know the window of saving a smuggled woman was
very short—only a few days before they were never seen again.
No
one but my parents and Brax knew I was in Mexico. My parents wouldn’t know I’d
ever gone missing—they never called or texted. It would be months before they
noticed my absence. And Brax. My heart choked. Brax might be dead for all I
knew. Dead and cold and blue under a man’s urinal.
The
man with the scar shoved Leather Jacket away, reclaiming my leash. He tugged
the rope, twinging my neck. “Get up.”
I
wanted to laugh. He expected me to stand when my body was cracked and broken?
The beating taught me something, though. Obedience was paramount. Nothing wrong
in following orders if it meant I survived another day. So, even though it
killed me, I fumbled to my feet.
Breathing
hard, my entire body wanted to weep, but my eyes remained dry. These men didn’t
deserve my tears.
Jagged
Scar wrapped fingers around my bicep, holding some of the weight. He gave a
lopsided grin, shrugging. “You can make this easy. It’s only temporary. Keep
your fight for your new owner.”
My
mind blanked with shock; I blinked. He confirmed my suspicions and I wished I
was wrong.
Jagged
Scar pulled me forward, both by his grip and the rope. Injuries screamed,
especially the cracked rib, but together we shuffled down the corridor. The
line behind started up again, each woman taken into a different room. Would I
ever see them again?
Leather
Jacket smirked as he opened a door, and Jagged Scar guided me inside. Just like
the cell we lived in: a windowless room with only one door.
The
lock clicking closed set off panic in my chest like an atomic bomb.
Everything
about the space was non-descript, apart from the torture contraption in the
centre of the room, half dentist chair, half gynaecologist table with stirrups
and levers.
Beside
it rested a stainless steel table full of instruments from my nightmares, all
glinting wicked sharp under the huge spotlight hanging above.
My
mouth snapped shut, and I huddled, trying to become invisible. Switch off,
Tess. Disappear from this hell.
Needles,
scalpels, glass vials full of crystal liquid, and leather straps heralded my
doom as Jagged Scar pushed forward. I had no energy, zapped with pain, but I
spun away. I couldn’t get on that chair. I couldn’t.
The
rope around my neck
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