Prologue

Twenty years earlier…

Joslyn Monroe stands in front of the candy boutique and points to a basket of brightly-colored lollipops. Cherry, grape, orange. They’re all her favorites. How can she pick just one?

“I want one,” she says, turning to her babysitter. “Daddy said I could have a piece of candy if I tied my own shoes every day this week.”

“He didn’t mention anything about that to me,” Julia says with a frown that knits her perfectly groomed brows together. “Joslyn, we need to get back to the car. The meter’s almost out.”

Joslyn stares at the candy with all the eagerness her five-year-old self can muster. “What if I stay here,” she asks, her juvenile voice dripping sugary sweetness to rival anything for sale in the candy store. “I promise I won’t go anywhere. Please.”

Julia studies her young charge, wondering if her words are true or if she’s being manipulated by the most precocious little girl in the history of the world. After what feels like an eternity to Joslyn, Julia sighs and gives a hesitant nod, knowing she won’t be gone for more than a minute.

“Okay. But stay right here.” Her voice is firm, letting Joslyn know she means business. “Promise.”

“I promise.” Joslyn doesn’t even notice as Julia darts away, fumbling in her purse for more quarters.

“Hey, there, Miss Joslyn.”

The little girl jumps at the deep, unfamiliar voice. When she turns around, a man stands just behind her with a friendly smile on his face. She swallows. Her parents always caution her against talking to strangers, but if this man knows her name, then he isn’t really a stranger at all. Is he? She looks closer at him and wonders if she’s met him somewhere. Her dad has a lot of business associates who look similar to this man.

“Hi.” She casts her eyes downward, not wanting to look him in the face.

“Would you like a lollipop?” he asks.

Is the grass green? Is the sky blue? Is a little girl wearing a gingham dress able to wrap anyone within three feet of her around her little finger?

“Yes.” Joslyn nods and rocks back and forth on her patent leather Mary Janes. “Please,” she adds, remembering her manners.

“Just come with me.” The man crooks his pointer finger in a come-hither motion. “Back here. We have lots of extra flavors this way.”

Joslyn casts a nervous glance over her shoulder. Julia seems to have disappeared into thin air – and it surely won’t take long to get a lollipop.

Oh, I want the cherry one. The color will match the checks on my frilly dress.

“Okay,” she agrees, moving one step forward. “I really want a lollipop.”

The man leads Joslyn into a dark alley behind the confectionary shop. A tiny shiver of fear snakes up her spine. Mommy and Daddy told her never to go anywhere with strangers. If Julia were here, it would be okay. But Julia hasn’t returned. She glances over the man’s shoulder, looking for her babysitter.

“Where’s my lollipop?” Joslyn asks.

The man doesn’t reply. He opens his mouth to speak, but before Joslyn can hear his explanation, someone grabs her from behind and pulls a bag down over her head. Panic and fear swell in her small body, and she begins to kick and scream. She feels herself being carried in strong, muscular arms that don’t yield to her kicks and punches. As everything fades to black, Joslyn cries. The heaving sobs wrack her tiny body, sending her into convulsions of terror.

When Joslyn wakes up, she gasps. Iron bars surround her. It looks like a bird cage, and she’s the parakeet. She puts her hands to the bars and shakes them as she screams. She doesn’t like being alone. She doesn’t like being behind metal bars. The stale air permeates the dark, windowless room. Where am I? Joslyn’s head aches, and she can barely swallow past the arid lump in her throat.

“Hey, little girl,” a deep male voice says. “You awake?”

Heart speeding up even faster, Joslyn nods, her gaze sweeping over his hulking bulk. Muscles seemed to materialize out of his muscles. “Please help me.” A pathetic whimper escapes her tiny body. A whimper that goes ignored. “Please, take me home.”

The man grins. More like a nasty sneer that doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. He steps closer to the cage, looming over the little girl for several seconds before squatting down so his piercing gaze can hit her at eye level.

“No can do,” the man growls.

He reaches between the bars of the cage and grabs one of Joslyn’s legs. Joslyn kicks and fumbles, but one swift tug lands her flat on her back with a painful thud. She trembles with terror as he removes her shoe and sock, tossing them carelessly to the floor before producing a pair of garden shears.

“Hold still,” the man grumbles under his breath, his fingers hurting the bones of her ankle. “Can’t fucking listen or follow orders. Just like her fucking father.”

“What are you doing?” Joslyn asks in a fearful, high-pitched voice. Her heart races again, and she can’t camouflage her shaking as her eyes fill with tears. This man can only be here for one thing.

To do harm to her.

“Gotta let Daddy know where you are, don’t I?” He shows her the shears and gives the weapon a little shake. Then he grins…a toothless smirk that does nothing to slow the pounding of her heart.

The sharp blades of the shears flash in the dim light, and Joslyn screams as the man neatly clips the pinky toe from her right foot. Pain explodes in her body, and she sobs so hard she can’t breathe as the man puts some kind of sizzling substance on the stump. When he finishes, he drops her foot to the ground, rising to his feet with a feral grunt. The new river of pain floods her tiny body and she reels, clamping her eyes shut against this new horror. Joslyn can’t even watch as he wraps her severed toe in a piece of cloth and tucks it in his pocket before leaving the dim warehouse room.

Alone and hopeless, she curls up in a ball and lays on the floor of the cage. She cries for what feels like hours, until her favorite dress is soaked with tears and snot.

“Hey.”

The sound of a voice startles Joslyn. But this voice isn’t deep or harsh – it sounds like…like…hers. Swallowing a ball of nerves and steeling herself for more torture, Joslyn crawls into a sitting position and peers out of the cage. A small boy crouches down in front of her iron prison, his tiny face lined with concern and empathy.

Is he here to save me?

“Hey,” Joslyn says in a shaky voice. “What’s your name?”

The boy rolls himself into an even smaller ball, his eyes peeking out from underneath his arm. “I’m not a-sposed to say.”

“I’m afraid.”

The boy doesn’t reply. He licks his lips, and Joslyn can see his own trepidation. Smell it on him.

“They hurt me,” Joslyn whispers, wishing the little boy would understand what even that simple admission cost her. “Do you know why the bad men would do that?”

“I’m sorry.” The boy puts his hand on the bars of the cage and grips Joslyn’s fingers. The small fingers are warm and dry and somehow comforting to Joslyn’s ragged nerves.

“Please,” Joslyn whispers again. “Please help me get out of here. I want my daddy.”

The boy’s eyes meet Joslyn’s. Even in the dim room, she can see that his are big, dark, and intense. They’re eyes that have seen a lot.

Too much.

“Please,” Joslyn repeats in a dry whisper. “Please, help me.”

The boy opens his mouth to speak just as a wide door swings open, and two large, bulky men stand there. To Joslyn’s horror, the boy scrambles to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispers, taking several steps backwards. “If I help you, they’ll kill me.”

As she watches the boy run away and the men bear down on her, she vows to never trust another man ever again. Men are evil people who do evil things.

As the two large men approach Joslyn’s cage, she gives in to the tornado of agony and fear and allows the blessed darkness to overtake her.