CHAPTER TWO

NATALIE

I tried as hard as I could to stay awake, to remain alert and vigilant as I bounced along with the cargo in the back of the truck. 

But I couldn't. I was so tired. 

The night was cool so I tucked my bruised knees to my chest and hugged my arms around my scraped, battered shins. I leaned against the tall, wooden box that hid me from the driver as my eyelids fought gravity. 

After a few hours on the road, gravity finally won. 

I woke up sweating, my mouth as dry as a bone and feeling dizzy enough to nearly pass out again. 

Daylight crept through the cracks in the corners, but no ventilation made me feel like I was in some kind of sauna. There was nowhere for hot air to escape so it hovered thickly all around me like a suffocating cloud, clinging to my skin and hair. 

A glass of cold or even lukewarm water sounded amazing. In spite of the hell I just escaped from, I would sell my body for a bottle of water and a shower. At least this time it would be my own choice. Oh, and food. How long had it been since I had anything decent to eat? I'd even give an enthusiastic blowjob for a burger. 

I lurched backward, nearly hitting my head on another shipping crate and wincing as my tailbone bounced painfully on the floor. The realization came that the truck was getting off the smooth road and slowing down, now driving on a dirt or gravel road. 

Fully alert with this knowledge, I brandished my knife. If I had to slash my way out to stay alive and free, I'd do just that. If putting the knife through my own heart was the only way, well I probably wasn't so far from death as it was.

The truck slowed to a complete stop and I heard voices outside. The driver and another man. I tightened my hold on the knife as I tried to keep my breathing quiet, but it escaped my lungs in furious bursts.

Without warning, the door rolled up and let in the painful, blinding sunlight. 

Fuck! no! 

I raised my arms to shield my eyes, curling into a tiny ball and holding the knife in front of my face. If they were going to drag me out of here, I wouldn't make it easy for them.

"What the fuck..." I heard a male voice say but no hands grabbed me. His footsteps made two loud thuds on the truck floor before they crunched on the ground outside, away from me. 

I blinked my eyes furiously as I tried to adjust to the sunlight. If the sight of me could scare away a grown man, maybe I could live to see tomorrow after all.

No sooner did my eyes adjust to the light outside did I see two men approaching the truck. I scrambled back to wedge myself out of sight. 

The first man stole my breath at first glance. He leaped up the short ramp into the truck with the agility of a cat, and his sharp eyes scanned the cargo as if hunting prey, but that was where the feline similarities ended.

He was incredibly tall and powerfully built. Muscles and tattoos covered his frame like a thick suit of armor. His white shirt contrasted with his dark ink and tanned skin. The front was completely unbuttoned as if he had just been lounging at the beach, showing off a sculpted chest and ab muscles that I could easily count from where I hid. 

Just one look at this man and I knew he was powerful. Dangerous. He could kill me with a single punch if he chose to make it that easy. Men in this business seemed to enjoy torture and long, drawn-out deaths. Getting past him would be impossible but I had no intention of falling into his hands. 

I turned the knife in my hands to point it at myself. The next thing I knew, his gun barrel was inches from my forehead. 

Fuck, he saw me.

His eyes, which I could now see were a pale shade of brown, almost amber in color, focused on me like lasers. The eyes of a killer and a rapist too. All these men were. But his eyes seemed wiser, sharper than most of the dirty thugs I had the displeasure of knowing. They also held surprise, curiosity and a hint of amusement. 

"Put the knife down," he ordered in a deep, commanding voice that sent tremors along my skin.

This man was definitely a boss. He was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. 

But I was sick of obeying men. 

Defiantly, I pressed the tip of the knife to my chest just over my heart. 

His eyes widened just slightly. He underestimated me. He didn't think I would actually do it.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," he said in a low, threatening tone. 

"Then shoot me," I hissed, my voice coming out in a dry rasp. "Get it over with." 

He blinked, visibly surprised. His amber eyes studied me curiously and I saw the amusement grow. It only made me angry. I didn't live to entertain sick men like him anymore. If that meant I didn't live at all, so be it. 

"I'm not gonna shoot you." 

To my surprise, he holstered his gun. Disappointment swept through me. A bullet to the head would be an easier and much less painful death than a self-inflicted stab wound.

"Now will you put the knife down?" 

"No." 

I kept the knife pointed at my chest, not entirely sure what I was waiting for.

He crouched down low in front of me, powerful quad muscles flexing in his thighs as he sank to my level, his eyes studying me like a microscope the entire time. 

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" he asked out of the blue. 

My stomach growling and my lips parting for a drink answered for me. My hope for a swift death evaporated like mist as my body's instinct to survive betrayed me.

One corner of his mouth pulled up into an amused smirk and I hated it. I hated that he looked so smug and that I let myself be captured again.

"My name is Solomon." 

He paused as if waiting for me to respond with my own name. Like hell I would. Even if I could remember my own name without struggling sometimes, when was the last time I needed it? The last time I was treated like a person? 

"No one is going to hurt you," he said, his voice softer without the harsh edge of commanding orders. "We're near a convenience store where I can get you food and water." 

He held out a large hand to me and I stared at it like it was an object from an alien planet. This had to be a trap. This man would lure me with food and water to his dungeon where he kept his other women locked up and I'd be right back where I started. 

"Tell you what," Solomon said, his cocky smirk growing wide across his face. "If you come out and have something to eat, I'll let you keep your knife."