Adelina

“Up.” Tristan walked into my bedroom where I was chained by the ankle to the metal bedpost. In the short time I’d been a prisoner, my treatment had been anything but humane. I always had a chain around one of my limbs as I remained locked in my bedroom all day while Tristan worked. I didn’t get any food, and if I had to pee, I had to hold it all day. And if I couldn’t, I had to pee on the bed—which I slept on.

My life was a nightmare.

I hadn’t been here for a week, but I already had forgotten what freedom felt like. I couldn’t remember the way the warm sun felt on my face first thing in the morning. I couldn’t remember the breeze through my hair. I’d just gotten to Greece with Lizzie when our taxi had been hijacked, and sacks were pulled over our faces. My life was savagely taken from me on my first trip from home.

I wanted to die.

How did I keep going?

Would I ever make it out of there?

Not only was I raped dozens of times, but I’d been beaten like a dog that wouldn’t listen. I’d been kicked in the ribs, punched in the face, and stomped on like a rug. I didn’t have a name anymore. I wasn’t a person anymore.

I wasn’t human.

I’d always pictured how I would lose my virginity. It was with a man I loved, and it was beautiful. But my first time was savage. He shoved himself inside me hard, broke my hymen, and then fucked me while I choked back my sobs.

Tristan stared me down. “I said up.”

“Do you not see the chain wrapped around my ankle?” Every time I was a smartass, I got punched in the face. But at this point, I was immune to pain, so whatever.

He grabbed my ankle and dragged me to the edge of the bed. Instead of a hard punch, he backhanded me across the cheek. My skin immediately burned, and I knew there would be a handprint for the rest of the day.

I didn’t make a sound. He liked knowing when I was hurt, so I did my best to hide it. He took away my freedom, so I would take away the intensity of his orgasms.

He unlocked the metal chain from my foot, and I hid my relief. My skin was callused and bruised from the constant constriction. It was impossible to get comfortable when the metal was always digging into my skin. The only time it was removed was when he came to fuck me.

And every time, I felt sick.

“For the last time, up.” He slapped me in the center of the face, hitting me right in the nose and the eyes.

My eyes smarted and my nose stung painfully, but I still didn’t release a grunt. I moved off the bed and got to my feet, feeling weak from not eating a real meal in four days. My body was beginning to go into shock because I was severely dehydrated. A migraine had settled in my skull since I arrived.

“Good girl. Listen up.” He grabbed me by the throat even though it was unnecessary.

I pushed his hand off. “You have my attention. You don’t need to grab me.”

Here it comes.

This time, he punched me right in the face.

My nose bled, and the blood dripped into my mouth.

He grabbed me by the neck again. “I’m loaning you to a friend for thirty-one days. Pull any stunts, and that will be the end of your friend Lizzie.”

I had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. Lizzie could have been sold off to a psychopath. Or worse, she could already be dead. But if I didn’t cooperate, she was guaranteed to lose her life. He held that over my head extensively, making me behave like an obedient animal. “I know.”

“Try to run, and I’ll torture her first.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told me that. “Who are you giving me to?”

Without warning, he punched me hard in the stomach. The air left my body, and I fell to the floor, too weak to hold myself up.

“Slaves don’t ask questions.” He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the hardwood floor.

I screamed and tried to get up so the pain would subside from my skull, but he moved too quickly. Chunks of hair came loose as he continued to tug on it like it was reins on a horse.

He finally let me go once I was in the center of the entryway. In just my panties, I was naked for all of his men to see. Some of them had taken turns fucking me, so we were acquainted. “Up.”

I didn’t test him this time. I got to my feet, feeling shaky. My hair was in my face so I couldn’t see in front of me, but I preferred it that way. I wanted to stick my head in the sand and pretend none of this was happening.

I pretended I was at home.

“I’ll see you in thirty-one days, Cane,” Tristan said.

Cane?

I pulled my hair from my face and looked at the man who was just here last night. With deep green eyes that looked equally kind and horrifying, he stood tall in a black t-shirt. I’d seen him naked, every inch of his masculinity. He was different from the others because he was good-looking. He had a nice jaw, strong eyes, and a five o’clock shadow that never seemed to fade. He was the tallest one at over six feet. He was the only man I’d encountered who had been somewhat nice to me, so I viewed him in a different way from the others. He was the only one who understood the meaning of no. He claimed he wasn’t a good man, and that was probably true.

But I hoped he wasn’t as evil as they were.

I wondered why Tristan was loaning me to someone else when he just got me a few days ago. He fucked me around the clock, coming into my bedroom during his breaks at work. He was obsessed with me—even though he had an odd way of showing it.

“I want her in the same condition as she is now—no broken bones.” He pushed me forward so I could get closer to Cane.

One of his men bound my wrists together with rope, even though it was clear I couldn’t escape. Even if I got away, I couldn’t live with myself for leaving Lizzie behind. I could go to the police and tell them everything I knew, but by then, it would be too late. These guys were masterminds of the underworld. They introduced me to a world I’d been blissfully blind to.

“Got it.” Cane removed his black blazer to reveal his muscular physique in a tight black t-shirt. He placed the thick fabric over my shoulders and wrapped me in the clothing, keeping my nakedness from the prying eyes of the sick perverts around me.

It was the first time that someone offered me clothes, that someone treated me like a human rather than an animal. I wanted to cry at the gesture because it meant so much to me. It was a jacket, something I would have taken for granted in my former life. But now that jacket was a life vest in freezing waters.

“Get my money, Tristan.” Cane placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me to the front door. “I know you’re good for it—but you better not prove me wrong.” He guided me outside the front doors and to the sunlight that hit my face.

I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes, wanting to weep at the feeling I’d missed so much. If I kept my eyes closed, I truly felt free. The air smelled like fresh flowers from a field, and I could recognize the salt from the sea air.

Just an instant of joy—but it was everything.

Cane grabbed me by the elbow. “Move.”

The harshness of his voice brought me back to reality. I wasn’t free at all, but being loaned out to a man who had a business deal with Tristan. Tristan said I was to be returned in thirty-one days.

In thirty-one days, I would be back in that hellhole.

Cane continued to touch me even though I didn’t need his guidance. I could see the car right in front of us, and there was nowhere for me to run—unless I jumped off the cliff and into the ocean. And even if I did, I would forfeit my best friend’s life. “Don’t touch me.” I freed myself and kept three feet between us, my hands gripping the jacket like it was the nicest thing I’d ever had. I would trade everything in my bank account just to stay covered like this. I didn’t have any shoes, but the jacket was long enough to cover my ass and the backs of my thighs.

Cane watched me coldly, no longer looking different from the other men. His green eyes weren’t innocent, and his clenched jaw hid his irritation. He could have easily grabbed me by the back of the neck and thrown me to the ground, but he didn’t.

It actually made him seem like a good guy.

He got to the car first and opened the passenger door for me. The windows were tinted completely black so no one would see me inside once the doors were locked. Similar to a shadow blocking out the sun, he stood there like a black cloud.

I didn’t glance back at the house where I’d been held captive. I didn’t want to look at Tristan’s face ever again, that strong, crooked nose or any other part of his ugly face. Sweat would drip from his forehead and splatter on my face when he fucked me like I was a prostitute in a brothel. My nightmare had been short-lived, but I was seriously screwed up in the head now. If I ever escaped, I would need a serious amount of therapy to set me straight.

I got into the passenger seat and relished the sound of the closing door. Finally, I was out of Tristan’s reach. He couldn’t shove his cock down my throat and force me to swallow his come as he pointed a loaded gun to my forehead. He couldn’t stab me with a butter knife as he forced me to watch him have dinner while I starved. Cane was a criminal, but he was a much better alternative to the psychopath I left behind.

Cane got into the car and started the engine. It roared to life and vibrated with power.

I didn’t look out the window. I just wanted him to drive, to get me the hell out of there. I tightened my arms over my chest and tried not to shiver. A flood of tears burned behind my eyes because I was relieved to leave that nightmare behind. I was scared of where I was going, but I was more scared to stay. I refused to let my tears fall in front of Cane. I quickly learned that men loved to watch me hurt. They loved to see me suffer and beg for mercy. It got them hard in their jeans.

So I kept all the rage packed deep inside my chest.

Cane finally hit the gas and drove away.

Thank god.

I positioned my body and looked out the window, seeing the beautiful Mediterranean that I always wished I could witness. Now I was looking at it—as a slave. My safety belt wasn’t on because I didn’t care about my safety. If Cane smashed into a building and killed us both, I’d consider myself to be lucky.

Damn lucky.

* * *

We walked into the hotel room where he’d been staying. Judging by his suitcase in the corner and the t-shirt that hung over the back of the chair, he’d been there for a few days. It was a nice place, definitely luxurious and expensive.

I knew he was wealthy. I could tell just by the way he moved. Once I became a prisoner, I’d learned to watch people for clues to their behaviors. It was a survivor strategy that I quickly picked up on.

“Get cleaned up.” He walked to the desk and took a seat. His silver Mac sat on the surface, so he opened it and hit the mousepad with his finger so the screen would light up. “I’ll take care of the flight.”

I expected he’d want to fuck me the second we were behind closed doors. But he hardly looked twice at me, like I was nothing to him. I didn’t get too excited about that. He wouldn’t have traded for me if I didn’t have some use to him. I hadn’t showered since the day that sack was pulled over my head and I was suffocated. I felt dirty in more ways than one, and the idea of a shower made chills run up my spine. “Thank you…”

He was just about to type something when he turned his head to look at me. With an unreadable expression, his features looked like they were carved out of stone.

I realized what I said and just how ridiculous it was. I’d lowered myself to a despicable level, being grateful for the opportunity to bathe like a normal human being. It was something I never should have said, and I wished I could take it back the moment I said it.

Cane continued to stare at me, his gaze cold and expressionless.

I didn’t subject myself to the look any longer and stepped inside the bathroom. I got under the warm water and closed my eyes, finally washing away all the dirt and oil that had accumulated under my fingernails and in the hair on my scalp. And I washed away the worst filth of all—Tristan’s remains.

I scrubbed my skin hard with a sponge, removing all evidence that I’d been touched against my will. But no matter how hard I rubbed, I couldn’t remove the scars and bruises that were now a part of my anatomy. Most of my bruises were purple and blue, and sometimes there was a hint of yellow around the edges. The cuts were scabbed over, except the ones that were constantly reopened by Tristan’s hand—and pocket knife.

I dried off and blow-dried my hair. The second my strands were clean, they felt five times lighter than before. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at my sunken face. I hadn’t been in captivity long, and I already felt thinner.

I was so hungry.

I’d gotten to the point where I was so hungry, I wasn’t even hungry anymore. My stomach constantly growled until it began to cramp up. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep because I was so uncomfortable. But that was nothing compared to being punched in the face then fucked in the ass.

I enjoyed my solitude in the bathroom as long as possible before I had to face my new owner. He may be handsome with a softer side, a complete contrast to Tristan, but I wasn’t stupid.

He was dangerous.

“Get out here.” He must have known I was purposely avoiding him because I was taking so long. “Don’t make me ask you twice.” He had a deeper voice than Tristan did. Even though he didn’t carry a weapon, it seemed like he possessed more power than the other men. After all, Tristan needed him for something. Cane didn’t need him for anything. He could just take his merchandise to another buyer.

I took a deep breath before I opened the door, suspecting Cane would want to fuck me now that I was clean. All I had to do was close off my mind and forget what he was doing to my body. If I just remained calm and thought about something else, like the sound of my favorite music or the waves of the ocean, I could get through it.

I stepped out in the bathrobe I found because I had nothing else to wear. My underwear was days old, and his blazer now rested over the back of his chair. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and that’s when I noticed the room service tray sitting on the desk. The smell of French fries filled the air.

My stomach rumbled in response.

Cane left the desk and pulled out the chair. “Eat, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. It didn’t matter how hungry I was. I didn’t want to hear him talk to me like he owned me. I didn’t want him to be sweet to me like he was a good person.

Cane glared at me. “Would you rather me call you a slave? A bitch? Just shut up and eat.” He walked to the window and placed his hands in his pockets. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

I didn’t move for the food despite my hunger. “You let me shower and eat, and that makes you a good person?”

He shook his head as he looked out the window. “I’m definitely not a good person, sweetheart. You’ll see what I mean soon enough. I suggest you eat. Who knows when you’ll get your next chance.”

I’d tested out the waters, and so far, they were pretty murky. Cane’s true colors hadn’t come to the surface yet. I took up his offer and sat at the desk. I smelled the cheeseburger and fries then stuffed myself. I ate quicker than I ever had before, stuffing my face and feeling my stomach ache in joy once it was full of greasy, fattening food. “Damn…this is so good.” I wasn’t saying that to Cane. It just slipped out because I didn’t care if I was talking to myself.

I wiped my plate clean, eating every single crumb until only a pool of leftover ketchup sat in the corner. As embarrassing as it sounded, I was tempted to lick it away. I managed to push the plate to the side and wipe my oily fingers on a napkin. Now I wanted to sleep, to recuperate from my week of hell.

Cane tossed a plastic bag on the desk. “Some clothes. Put them on. We’re leaving.”

“Do you ever say a full sentence?” He spoke like a caveman, conveying his thoughts in the fewest words possible. It frustrated me when it shouldn’t. This man just put a full meal in my stomach, but I was in the mood to bite the hand that fed me.

“Interesting. I thought you would be in a better mood now that you’re full. I guess I’ll keep you hungry, then.” He grabbed his laptop and shoved it into his bag before he pulled it over his shoulder.

I took a look inside and found underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt.

Cane stopped right in front of me, staring me down with irritation. “Get your ass dressed, or I’ll make you. What’s it gonna be?”

I didn’t want to push him any further for fear of what he might do. I didn’t want to get naked in front of him, not when I had some of my rights back. So I went into the bathroom and changed. Once I did, I stared at myself in the mirror and couldn’t believe how normal I looked. I touched my face and felt the soft skin now that I’d scrubbed down. I didn’t look like a woman who’d been tortured and beaten. I didn’t look like someone who’d been raped dozens of times. I didn’t look like a slave.

I looked like me.