Page 66 of Never To Suffer

“You should have kidnapped my aunt.”

“She has security, or I would have.” He pulls my computer out and sets it on the bed next to me. “Open your files and I’ll give you?—”

There’s a sharp pain across my face and I try to keep my eyes open, but I can’t. He swears at me as I pass out again.

My eyes don’t respond when I try to open them. My arms weigh too much to lift them. My mind dips in and out of consciousness at intervals I can’t discern, giving me limited function. The only constant is his voice, and that offers no comfort, only the promise of pain or darkness.

Or both.

Something flashes when I convince a sliver of my eye to open. It reminds me of the apartment and even the vague memory of mice offers comfort. I’d welcome one of those little bastards crawling over my foot right now, telling me this has all been a nightmare and I’m still back in Los Angeles. I force my eye to open more, and those hopes fly out the window. It’s a flashing sign outside, but the writing isn’t English. I haven’t been this conscious since the limo.

A door opens quickly and slams shut, but I’m not sure if it’s in the next room or ten floors away. I’m screaming at my body, begging it to move, but where the hell would I even go? My head falls to the side, and I find my backpack with all my things dumped out a few feet from me. The phone sits close enough to reach if I could just move my damn arms.

Footsteps grow louder and I slam my eyes shut, pretending to still be asleep when he stomps into the room, muttering to himself.

“You really screwed everything up, you prick.” He comes closer, his hot breath on my back as he looms over me. “Why are you this big of a fuckup?! Why won’t your father PAY ME?!”

Holding still when he yells unexpectedly isn’t easy, but trying to fool him into thinking I’m passed out when his heavy boot connects with my ribs should earn me an Oscar. The second kick almost blows my cover when it forces the air from my lungs in a violent cough.

He’s still, but the sound of his breathing tells me he’s watching me, seeing if that woke me.

“Whiney little twat. You had everything, and you threw it away for what?” Oliver has gone back to rambling and starts pacing the room. “Maybe I should kill you? Dump your body in a river somewhere or drive you out to that forest and hang you from a tree. Who would question it? Who would care about you?”

He’d do it, and right now, I couldn’t stop him. He’s wrong, though, because people would care. Dani. Theo. Skylar. Melody. The names I keep repeating to myself whenever I can. The people I want to see again. They’re what keeps me hanging on when there were a few times the darkness became a little too comfortable, a little too easy to slip deeper into.

“Oh, now there’s an idea!” He rummages around in my things, but I don’t dare open my eyes. He steps close again, gripping my hair and pulling my head up so violently, hot pain runs along my scalp and down my shoulders. He lets go and my head drops to the floor with a painful thump. “Well, look at that. Facial recognition still works, even with all those bruises. Guess it’s used to you looking like this, isn’t it?”

His footsteps head away from me, and I chance a look. He’s on my phone. My heart races, hoping there’s any kind of connection wherever we are. One phone call, one internet search, one read message. It won’t take much for my aunt to find me, and he’s said they know I’m missing, so she’s looking.

“Useless,” he whispers, dropping the phone on the floor and grabbing my laptop out of the backpack. He opens the lid and smirks, turning to face me again. I shut my eyes again, hoping he didn’t notice. He slides over to me, climbing onto my back. That’s when I realize I’m naked. His laughter turns my stomach and triggers fear to rush through my entire body.

“I’ll miss having you around, but I’ve decided exactly what I’m going to do with you. Don’t worry, you’re going to love it. Well, you probably won’t love not getting paid, but you’ll be used, beaten, and thrown out with the trash when they’re done with you. Just the way you like it.”

He squeezes my neck and bites down on my ear until a trickle of warmth slips down my neck. I hear a zipper and feel tears I can’t control anymore. “What do you say, Xander? Should we have one more tryst before I hand you over to the traffickers?Your videos should be enough to entice them, even though you’re older than they usually like. Someone out there will want you.” His body stiffens against me, then shudders.

“What the hell?”

He climbs off me and I risk opening my eyes. The strangest sensation of relief floods through me when I notice the screen on my phone light up with an incoming message before he grabs it, shoving it into the backpack with my computer.

“Stay here, not that you have much of a choice.” He leaves, pulling the backpack on as he walks away.

CHAPTER 29

NOTHING BREAKS LIKE A HEART

DAMIANO DAVID

I should have known betterthan to get involved with Xander. But sometimes, the heart convinces you to take a shot you’re guaranteed to miss reminding yourself life sucks and there’s no escaping it.

I’ve left a few voicemails since he stopped answering my texts. I’m sure he’s moved on, either finding someone better, or maybe his relationship with the girlfriend isn’t as open as he led me to believe. I pick up my phone, stare at it for a few seconds, and set it back down again before I make a move for the kitchen. A few minutes later, and I have everything I need for an emergency baking session, now for the question I should ask myself. Is this for before or after the call? Or both?

Baggy purrs, wrapping herself between my legs like she senses my stress, which I’m sure she does. Although, she probably hopes I start stress baking now so she can get whatever falls on the floor. Sometimes, she thinks she’s a dog.

Shit, even thinking about cats and dogs reminds me of Xander. I grab my phone again.

Look, as a concerned neighbor, can you at least tell me you’re okay?

My finger hovers over the send button, and finally, when I accept that the words aren’t going to send themselves, I mash it and flip to the phone app. Sliding down through my contacts to the S names, remembering too late that I don’t have her listed under Sylvie. She’s listed under P for Pixie. It rings until her voicemail picks up, which I expected, and yet, I still don’t have a message prepared, so I stumble through one.

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