“Right this way, ladies,” one of the men from the truck says.
“Hey, let me go, asshole,” Jack screams.
“What’s going on?” I swivel around to see what’s happening, but a rough pair of hands grab me and start pulling me toward the door. My heart is beating so fast and so hard, I’m afraid I’m going to pass out.
“Shut up and keep walking,” a man growls and tightens his already punishing grip on my arm. He drags me through the yard, and I stumble, my heels sticking in the mud, twisting my ankles, as I scrabble to keep up with the man.
It’s pitch black, and the cabin is completely surrounded by trees that soar, so high, that I can’t see the tops of them.
The front door of the cabin swings open, and Weston steps out. “You made it, Princess, and you brought friends.”
His expression is twisted in a grin that is so cruel and excited that it makes my blood run cold. I stop and start trying to scurry backward.
“No, you can’t take us in there,” I yell, as I try to dig my bare feet into the ground. I claw at the hand around my arm, screaming for Matty and Jack. Why are they suddenly so quiet?
The man lifts me, hoisting me over his shoulder, and carries me into the house. Panic is all I know, as he walks through a sparsely furnished living room. The wall-mounted tv is tuned to something loud, but he’s moving too fast for me to see anything clearly. My feet and fists strike his back and torso, but he doesn’t seem to feel it.
Tears run down my face and into my open mouth, choking my screams and filling me with a terror more visceral than anything I’ve ever known.
He dumps me unceremoniously onto a mattress in the middle of the room. It’s thin, and my head slams against the hard floor, and for a moment, I’m dazed. He tugs my leg, and before I know what’s happening, something tightens painfully, pinching near my foot. I sit and wail, in horror, when I see the shackle around my ankle. I kick for everything I’m worth. And yelp, as whatever it’s anchored to on the ground makes my joints pop, as I yank to try free myself.
“Men three times your size can’t break free. You’ll just hurt yourself,” the man says, in between grunts, as he wrestles to grab my other ankle. I manage to pull it free, and my foot connects with his face.
He howls in pain and returns my blow with a fist slammed into my cheekbone. Pain and light explode, and I fall back, sobbing as the coppery taste of my blood trickles onto my lips.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Getting paid, bitch. Shut up.” He grunts and grabs my arms. He pulls them together over my head and I feel the now familiar slide of cold metal before they’re bound together and attached to an anchor in the ground.
I’m trapped, helpless, and staring into the eyes of a man I’ve never seen before, but who I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’ll never forget.
“I can pay you more.”
“Doubt it. But you’ll make us some nice money.” His smile makes me want to throw up.
Weston strolls in.
“Welcome, Princess. You like my new house?”
I gape up at him in horror. “Wh- Why are you doing this?” I cry.
He smiles that terrible smile and sits next to me on the mattress. I struggle to catch my breath.
“Do you want money? My grandfather will pay you to give me back. But if you hurt me, he won’t.”
“You, dumb cunt. I don’t want money. I want my pound of flesh.”
He lifts his shirt and twists to show me a small scar on his lower back. Tears fall from my eyes, as I look at it.
“Thanks to you and that little shit who called the police, I have a record. I had eight months of community service. So, I’m thinking that once I stab you and then make you spend 8 months getting fucked up the ass by men you don’t know and who don’t give a shit about anything beyond the nut, they’re going bust inside of you, we’ll be even.”
And then he holds up a knife, one just like the one Stone stuck him with.