Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“I train them.”
Like they’re dogs.
“So, you can do that, then?” I mutter, my voice laced with sarcasm.
He turns to me, his eyes flashing. “I can do a lot of things, including slitting your throat and letting your bikers find you bleeding out on the cage floor.”
My eyes widen.
Jesus.
“I hear you,” I say, my voice soft.
“Good. You’re a fast learner.”
Do I really have a choice?
I think about the baby inside me, more often than I’d like to admit, and I wonder if Marek suspects anything. I fear that if he knew, he would use it to his advantage. I can’t help but wonder what it is that happened in his life for him to turn into this cold, broken person. He has to be broken, because people who are together don’t do things like this. I consider that, perhaps, his mother was a drug addict or abused him in some way.
Is that why he seems to have such disrespect for women?
Watching Olivia perform captivates me, and I can’t seem to take my eyes away until she finally lands on the ground, undoing herself from the rope and meeting Marek’s intense gaze. She nods, and he returns it, then she disappears without so much as a word. A moment or two later, two other girls come in. They’re small, petite, and very pretty. They take the ropes, attach themselves, and then are launched into the air as they do a trick together, hands joined, their bodies swirling around the others as if they were made for each other.
I can’t look away.
“Impressive, no?”
I nod, forgetting for a moment where I am.
Marek points to the raven-haired girl flying through the air, her legs now twisted with her partner’s as they make magic. “That’s Stacia. She was a stripper, an addict, and in trouble with some bad people. Now, she travels with me.”
I bite my lower lip.
I don’t want to give him any kind of praise, because he’s still treating these women like they’re dogs until they bend and do as he wishes. If they don’t do as he wishes, or they don’t perform in a way that impresses him, he discards them, selling them or tossing them back onto the streets. There is no way he deserves any kind of award for what he’s doing here.
“What about when they don’t perform to your standard?” I dare ask. “You can’t praise yourself and say you’re helping them then.”
“They’re sold to people who can give them a far better life than the one they’re living.”
“I fail to see how,” I mumble, shaking my head. “Being sold as what, a sex slave, how can that be better?”
Marek turns, glancing down at me with a narrow glare that has me taking a step back. “How naïve you are to assume that every woman sold is sold for sex.”
“You’re telling me they’re not?” I challenge.
“Be careful, Alexis. I’m beginning to think you need to spend more time here so you can mind your tongue.”
I clamp down, not saying anything more.
The last thing I want is to remain here.
“What happened to Ethan’s body?”
My words shock me, and seemingly him, because he jerks back a little, and his eyes widen.
“I mean,” I say quickly, “will someone find it and think it was me?”
Another thought that has crossed my mind, over and over again. What if his body is found, and the police think I did it? With a little searching, could they link me to it and then assume I killed Ella, too? If that is the case, my life is over before it has begun. Not once have I thought about Ethan’s death with sadness. No, only relief. But that doesn’t take away the fear of being caught out.
“If your bikers give me my money, I assure you, nobody will ever find his body.”
“The police will think it was me regardless, when he goes missing.”
Marek grins, that same, cold, terrifying grin. “Trust me, nobody is going to come for you, unless, of course, you give me reason to ensure they do.”
That’s not going to happen.
Come on, Fury.
Please come for me.
14
They didn’t come for me.
It has been three days.
The pain consuming my heart and wrapping its angry fingers around my stomach are enough to send me over the edge.
It hurts.
More than I ever thought it would.
I haven’t been told anything.
Marek hasn’t come in for days.
We’ve been crammed in these cages, left with nothing. I’m hungry, thirsty, and scared. Ellie told me it’s strange for him not to come in, and that something must be wrong. Has he gone after the club? Did they come after him? Has something happened and we’ll be left here to die? The thought is beyond terrifying, and it scares me in a way that has me chilled to the very bone.
Some of the girls in here are crying out, pleading and begging, yelling all night to be let free. I don’t know if they’re new, or if they’re simply hungry and want someone to come in. Either way, it means there has been no rest. Not a single moment of it. I’m soaked from sweat, the lack of airflow in this tent making it hard to breathe. My stomach gave up rumbling yesterday, and I’m exhausted.