Age: 26

Place: Albany, New York

A fire spreads throughout my body, threatening to drag me to the depths of hell, begging me to feed it what it needs, what it desperately craves. Extending my arms outward, my palms smack against the paneled walls and I fight to keep myself upright, following the voices down the hallway. I close my eyes and try to focus.

Rush. I need Rush. He’ll make the pain go away.

Praying my savior has come back, I listen for his voice as I draw closer. Stepping from the shadows, my eyes frantically dart around searching for Rush. A whimper escapes my lips as I realize he isn’t amongst these animals.

He’s left me high and dry.

A prisoner in my own hell.

A hell he introduced me to.

“If Rush comes back and sees you out of your room, he’s going to lose his shit,” Bas warns in a gruff whisper. His breath caresses my ear sending a shiver down my spine. Swallowing down the bile, I turn my gaze to him and close my hand around his wrist.

“Why don’t you take me back to my room then?”

His dark eyes snap to my hand as I begin to stroke his pulse point with my thumb. Desperation claws at me and I know what I need to do. For some, drugs can be a temporary high, something they do out of recreation. For others, for people like me, a hit is as necessary as oxygen.

With his free hand, Bas pulls mine away as he closes the distance between us and tightens his fingers around my wrist so tight I’m afraid he might break it. Bending his large frame, he inches close to me and I can smell the whiskey on his tongue.

“Ain’t no one here going to buy what you’re selling, girl,” he sneers. “Turn your boney ass around and get back to your room.”

“Please,” I beg. “Bas, I need something.”

“I’m not going to feed you drugs, Ally. That might be Rush’s thing, but it’s not mine.”

“What if he doesn’t come back?” I cry.

Loosening his grip on my wrist, he takes a step back and looks down at me, shaking his head in pure disgust.

“You should pray he doesn’t.”

A sob wretches free at the mere possibility of Rush never returning. I can’t live without him. Hell, I don’t want to live without him either.

He’s the only one who cares.

The only one who gives me what I need.

“Please, Bas. I’ll do whatever you want,” I plead.

“Go to your fucking room, Ally,” he demands, his jaw ticking with agitation. Before I can drop to my knees in one last attempt, he turns around and I watch his back as he moves through the room. Tears slide down my cheeks as I draw my arms around my body and silently will the chills to fade away.

I look around the room once more, hoping to find someone who will give into me, but it’s a lost cause. These men are all under Rush’s command and none of them will go against him, certainly not for me. Bas is right, no one here wants me.

They all see right through me.

Even the guy in the far corner. He’s looking at me, but he doesn’t see me.

I’m just an object taking up space within these walls; the chair he’s sitting on serves more of a purpose than I do.

Realizing I’m not going to get what I need out of any of them, I turn around and start for my room. Tears blur my vision as flashes of another life assault me.

Before I was a woman who used her body as a tool to survive, I was an innocent child who never knew the world could be so ugly. Once upon a time I was Alexandria Richardson, a quirky girl who had two parents that loved her and a twin brother who couldn’t resist teasing her.

A girl who had good grades and a bright future.

A girl who loved to dream, someone who wanted to be a nurse one day.

A girl who couldn’t wait to turn eighteen so she could go skydiving.

A girl who believed in love and wished for her own fairy tale.

A girl who never stood a chance because she was abducted before her life could truly begin.

As a child, my parents warned me of strangers and made me believe not everyone in this world was kind. My brother and I were taught to be aware of our surroundings and never to accept rides from people we didn’t know. Every Halloween I remember our mother checking each piece of candy, throwing away any that were partially open. I perceived strangers to be monsters, hideous looking creatures with deep voices that forced the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention.

I knew the dangers.

I knew kidnapping was real.

I knew there were sick people in the world who preyed on innocent children.

I knew to scream and run if I ever found myself face to face with a monster.

Still, knowing all of that, I never expected for it to actually happen to me.

I never expected to be kidnapped at fourteen.

Why would I?

The monster wasn’t all that ugly. In fact, he looked nothing like the evil villain I suspected capable of ripping a child from the streets. He came dressed in a suit and spoke in a soft voice. Each word he uttered was laced with desperation as he begged me to help him find his daughter. Part of me knew I should have been weary while the other part thought of my dad. I rationalized he’d act the same way if my brother or I became lost. He’d wander the streets looking for answers, begging anyone he could find to bring us home safe. I made myself believe following the strange man down the street was the right thing to do and that my parents would have approved of my act of kindness.

I remember reaching the corner of the block and spotting a van parked haphazardly in the middle of the street. The man froze beside me as the back doors burst open and three men wearing ski masks appeared.

I screamed.

I tried to run.

But it was too late.

It’s all right, there isn’t anything to fear.

Those were the words he whispered in my ear as he covered my mouth with his hand. Those were the last words I heard as Alexandria Richardson. The words that closed the book on the perfect life I was born to.

One night.

One wrong decision.

A single sentence.

The end of my childhood.

The death of my future.

Even now, after all these years, those words still haunt me. They’re the words that assault my subconscious and make me scream into the night. It’s those words that remind me of what I lost and what I became. The drugs wear off and I can clearly hear his voice, that thick accent as he whispers those words.

My body shakes with need as his voice rings in my ears.

A needle to drain into my vein.

A mound of fine white powder to snort.

Anything.

As long as it sucks me into a state of oblivion. A safe place where Alexandria’s memory doesn’t exist and all I know is Ally.

Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and dig my nails into my arms, using pain as a substitute for the drugs, hoping it will make Alexandria disappear from my memory. I scratch and scratch until I draw blood, but it’s not enough. Knowing I can’t stay in this room like I’ve been ordered to by Bas, that the solitude will only entice my demons to ruin me, I turn around and pull open the door.

Determined not to succumb to my memories, I hurry down the hallway knowing the risk I’m about to take may get me killed. However, death is still a better option than reliving the life I lost. Pausing in front of the door to Rush’s office, I fight for courage and twist the knob. Stepping into the darkened room, I close the door as the addict in me taunts me, goading me into stealing the drugs Rush keeps locked in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Maybe he won’t notice.

I’ll only take a little.

Just enough to get me through the night.

Enough until he slips into my bed and stabs the needle into my arm.

I tell myself it’s a solid plan and turn toward the desk. My eyes latch onto the man standing behind it and the air deflates from my lungs. It’s the guy from before, the same guy that looked right through me as if I didn’t exist.

He’s a new face, someone who has heard the stories but isn’t sure they’re true. Someone who also doesn’t belong in this room. Someone I can manipulate to give me what I need.

“What’re you doing in here?” I ask hoarsely.

Unguarded, he lifts his eyes to me and I watch in fascination as they change.

Dark.

Dangerous.

Uninviting.

Murderous.

His lips set into a thin line as he straightens his back. Silently, he glances down at his hand and back at me, cocking his head to the side. Waiting for him to answer my question, debating if I should turn and run back to my room, he slowly lifts his hand and I spot the uncut heroin.

“Searching for the same thing you are,” he replies, dropping the brick of drugs into his other hand. “Looks like I beat you to it,” he adds.

Drawing his hand to his chest, he brushes his jacket aside and goes to tuck the drugs into his pocket.

“No,” I yelp, rushing around the desk in a panic.

“No, what?” he taunts, raising an eyebrow.

“Give me that,” I snap, reaching for his hand. “He’ll know you took it.”

My hand wraps around his and I try to pry his fingers off the brick. He lets me pry one finger, then another, before he opens his fist and drops the drugs onto the floor. A curse flies from my lips as he grips both my wrists and pushes my back against the desk. In one swift move, he pins my arms behind me and leans into me.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you get away with that, did you?”

“Fuck you,” I sneer, wriggling to get free, but he’s too big, too strong. I kick my legs, but he presses his weight against me and crushes my legs against him.

“Is that your plan?” he whispers. Everything about him oozes control, even his husky voice. “You think if you spread your legs I’ll give you what you want, don’t you?”

I swallow.

My body is the only possession I can barter with and I’ve never thought twice about using it…until now. Until I met his gaze and those dark brown eyes stare back at me with pity. I’m so used to looks of disgust, of anger and even lust occasionally that I brush them off. But the way this man is looking at me hits me hard. It breaks me and makes me yearn for things I’ll never have.

Normalcy.

Peace of mind.

A future.

Everything Alexandria could have had.

I blink back the tears and drop my gaze to his patch.

“Deuce,” I read, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Seconds tick by as I slowly meet his gaze, praying I see more than pity. Then he loosens his hold on me and takes a retreating step back. I watch as he bends, grabbing the heroin from the floor, but I don’t reach for it anymore. Instead, I close my legs tightly and cross my arms against my chest as he pulls a knife from his belt. A part of me wishes he’ll use it on me, that the pity he felt for me will give him the courage to end my nightmare.

“You never saw me,” he whispers, stepping closer to me.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion as I watch him make a small slit in the plastic wrap covering the drugs.

“Do you understand?” he probes as he pulls the knife away and I stare at the residue glistening from it.

One hit.

Just a taste.

An escape.

“I never saw you,” I reply. Eyes on the prize, I inch forward and part my lips. He swipes his thumb across the blade and holds his thumb to my mouth.

“Open up,” he rasps.

I do as I’m told, drawing his thumb into my mouth and suck it clean.

Goodbye Alexandria.