Isabella

After what could have been hours or days later, I tried to open my eyes, but a handkerchief covered them. My hands were bound behind my back, and a cloth was stuffed in my mouth. I attempted to tug at the ties around my wrists. The plastic tightened its hold on me, making it impossible to do more than roll onto my side.

I listened for a sound, a constant whooshing as if we were in a car. A few minutes passed before we stopped, and the vehicle jerked me forward, forcing me to rock from side to side. I’d never done drugs before. This was the first time, and it wasn’t by choice. Whatever they had given me was enough to knock me out within seconds.

You can do this, I told myself, repeating it in my head as if it had become my personal mantra.

Stephan was in jail, for however long my father decided. Carmella was tied up the last time I’d seen her. Brian didn’t come to my rescue, which meant the men who’d taken me had gotten to him, too. Maybe he allowed them.

Did my father do this to me?

He’d already done so much to our family and to Stephan I wouldn’t put anything past him. He was pure evil, the Devil reincarnated. But would he kidnap me? I’d wondered from the second I read the results of Mark’s paternity test if he had ordered one for me, too.

Was I his? Would he go to such lengths to force me to marry Karl Vos if I wasn’t? Nothing made sense to me anymore.

The trunk opened. Someone grabbed me, dug their fingernails into my skin, and lifted me over their shoulder. In the distance, I smelled the saltiness of the water that crashed softly against the pier.

We moved forward, my legs bound at the ankles and hitting the man who was carrying me in the back. I did my best to make it hurt more each time my bony knees made contact with this jerk. It wouldn’t help me break free, but it gave me some satisfaction.

He walked closer to the water until his feet hit wooden planks. I assumed by the sounds of the water and the scent of the sea we were at a dock. Another man was next to us, with a few following behind.

“About time,” a man said in front of us. “The ship leaves in ten.”

Fear shot through me, my body growing rigid from the threat. My system went into overdrive from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I wanted to fight, with everything I had left, but I couldn’t move a muscle. Everything hurt, from my head to my toes, the worst pain centering in my gut, where I knew deep down inside I was screwed.

And no one was coming to save me. Because Stephan was right about one thing. He wasn’t the hero in my story. It was up to me to save myself.

I wished for death. Because at least in death, I would find peace. Being held captive by my father was one thing. I’d grown accustomed to his methods of torture and knew how to navigate them. But strangers were different. I didn’t know how to control the situation. I hadn’t seen any of their faces, didn’t recognize any of their voices.

The men who’d drugged and kidnapped me from my home were handing me over to the men who waited for us. My head spun from being hoisted over his shoulder and thrown from side to side like a ragdoll.

He slid me down his chest, my hands and feet still bound together. With a firm grip on my shoulder, his rough touch was all that kept me from falling flat on my face. He shoved his hand to my back and moved me forward. I stumbled, lost my balance, and then fell into the hard chest of another man. His steady hand slipped to the back of my neck. He squeezed tight and dragged me.

My feet hit the wooden planks beneath me, ripping open my skin. These animals pulled me from my bed in my pajamas without even giving me a pair of shoes to wear. I shivered from the chill that ran up my bare legs and arms. The tiny shorts and snug tank top weren’t enough to keep the breeze blowing off the water from seeping into my bones.

“Throw her in,” a man growled.

In the water? His words caused me to panic even more, and with the fabric stuffed in my mouth, I could hardly breathe.

Not until we were inside the vessel and someone said, “She’s bleeding all over the place,” did he consider to lift me.

He carried me in his arms, my head rested on his shoulder. As much as I wanted to kick and scream, I had no voice, no strength. I’d never felt so hopeless in my entire life.

We walked through the ship, which smelled of cigar smoke, fish, and salt water. The combination of the scents made my stomach turn. My brain was fuzzy from all the drugs injected into my bloodstream. A small part of me wished they would dose me again so I could forget everything that had happened in the past week.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in their possession before I woke up in the trunk. The details of the night weren’t precise, and the harder I tried to remember, my head buzzed. It was too much to process. Was Carmella okay? Was she already on the boat? My anxiety intensified when I thought of her bound and gagged on the bed next to me, helpless.

The man stopped and pushed open what sounded like a heavy metal door. He lifted his feet as if he had to clear something beneath us before he stepped inside a room. A second later, I slipped from his grasp, his hands freeing me from his clutches. I was falling, feeling like I would never land. It was a long drop and a hard one at that. My shoulder broke the fall, and a searing pain shot down my arm.

Every bone in my body hurt from the drugs and lack of sleep. But now a red-hot blaze licked my skin, creating a dangerous fire I couldn’t contain. I rolled onto my side. A lumpy mattress, which had a rancid smell emanating from the material, was beneath me, and my stomach lurched all over again.

A girl made a muffled sound next to me.

“Shut up before I shut it for you,” the man barked at her.

He hunched down next to me so I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Time to take your medicine,” he hissed, and then jammed a needle into my neck.

My eyelids grew heavy from the drugs. Of all the years of my father’s abuse, I thought I would have been more prepared for this situation. But I was wrong.