Page 1 of Their Offering

Prologue

Lillian

“You were right, Maggie. She was worth it,” the big, scary man said as he handed the bag of pills over. My mom had come in to check on him. Not me. Him.

He was still sitting on the bed. My bed.

He was muscular, covered in tattoos, and really hairy. He’d shown up in ripped jeans and a dark green T-shirt, but those were on the floor now. They had been since he first arrived. He didn’t waste time getting what he came for.

Mom didn’t have enough money to pay him, so she sold him the only thing she had. Me. He wasn’t the first guy she’d let into my bedroom, and I wasn’t naive enough to think he’d be the last.

She’d been selling me for pills for a couple of years now when she couldn’t pay in cash. It turns out a ten-year-old girl is just as good to them. This was the first time I’d met this particular one, though. Mom said he was a new dealer in the area and was more willing to make deals with her than the others.

I tugged the blanket over my body and tried to disappear into the corner my bed had been shoved into. I just wanted them to leave so I could shower and change my bed sheets. I always changed my sheets. I hated the smell left behind after the men visited me. It was hard enough to sleep with the memories and the soreness, let alone the scent reminding me of how dirty I was.

“Stop crying, Lillian. You’re a big girl. Act like it.” Mom stuck one of the pills in her mouth and swallowed it with ease. She still hadn’t looked at me. She usually avoided looking at me until the men left. I wanted to believe it was out of guilt or regret, but after using me for payment so many times, there’s no way she felt either of those emotions.

The big man turned around to run his minacious brown eyes over me again. “I don’t usually make exceptions, but I’m glad I did this time.” His smile would stick with me forever, his gnarly yellow teeth peeking between his parted lips. I shivered.

His hand came up, and one of his tattooed fingers caressed my cheek. It was rough, his callouses catching on my smooth skin. I hated it. I couldn’t move away from him, though. I had to pretend like it didn’t bother me when all I wanted to do was scream. If I moved, it would just get worse.

Mom was always mean to me if I did anything wrong, but her cruelty when she was high was much, much worse. She’d hit me and throw me to the floor, or she’d scream at the walls. I think she saw things. She’d tell them to take me away, that she hated me and couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore.

The man stood, and as he dressed, he talked to my mom about some of his new products. He made sure to mention he’d prefer cash next time, but his eyes flicked to me, telling me he’d be back.

Once he left, my mom made sure I’d stay quiet. I promised her I would, as I always did, and she gave me some warmed-up canned soup and a slice of bread before going to her usual spot in the living room to enjoy her drugs.

Mom always made me promise not to tell anyone before she left. She’d say, “If you tell anyone, someone will take you somewhere worse. You’ll be dirty, cold, and starving until you’re old enough to be kicked out into the real world.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Mama. I promise,” I’d say to her.

I meant it. At least here I had food—most of the time—and a bed with blankets to keep me warm. I could endure the men until I was old enough to leave.

When I could leave, I’d never look back.

Chapter 1

Lillian

Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea?I thought to myself as I stumbled drunkenly through the trees. It was dark and silent. I tried to absorb the stillness; I needed it.

I stopped, leaned against a tree, and took a few deep breaths, trying to keep down what little was in my stomach. Once the nausea subsided, I took another swig of the glass beer bottle I’d brought with me. It was almost empty. Bummer.

I knew I’d had too much to drink, and so did Katie, my best friend, who tried her best to stop me. She was right, but I ignored her. I needed to drown out the sounds and feelings of my miserable life.

I wanted to be numb tonight, especially after Mom came home high as fuck and complained that she was screwed because she owed some bad people money. She’d passed out on the couch no sooner than she’d walked through the door. My mom was a piece of shit, but it was her life. She stayed out of mine, so I gave her the same courtesy, though I think her laidback parenting was more that she didn’t care rather than giving me my space.

Whose mom gives their 13-year-old daughter condoms and encourages her to “explore”? Whose mom doesn’t check to make sure their kid came home? Whose mom forgets to buy food and clothes for their kid? She was more than laidback; she was neglectful.

I started walking again, not entirely sure why I had convinced myself to go for a walk in this cold ass forest in the first place, especially since I was dressed in shorts and a tank top—not exactly hiking material.

I spotted a concrete, shed-like building in a small clearing up ahead. It looked out of place, but when I glanced around and saw I was alone, I walked up to get a closer look.

The building was old, ancient even. That much was obvious. The door had strange symbols carved into it that I’d never seen before, and two small, three-headed dog statues sat on either side.

What the fuck was this place?

I circled the building once, looking for something,anything, to tell me what I was looking at, but I spotted nothing out of the ordinary until I reached the front again.

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