Page 1 of Fight for You
1
TARZANA HILLS, CA
Jordyn
July
8791 days captive
Oppressive darkness enveloped me,leaving me trapped and hopeless beneath its weight.Hisweight. With each of Aleksandr’s contented snores, his muscular body pressed deeper against my chest—against every part of me—and I struggled for oxygen.Girl, if you don’t get up, you will stay under this man forever.
Uh-uh. That was a lie. The Russian would sell me before forever came. All the men before Aleksandr traded me more than a prized MLB card. I’d gone from a compound in Saudi Arabia to a king in South Africa. Hell, I allowed my imagination to dream while there. Though I felt at home beneath the warm sun, that man treated me no better than the Albanian that preceded him or the British Prime Minister afterward.
Though I’d seen the world, a cardboard box in Downtown Los Angeles’ Skid Row sounded more appealing than crossing paths with the male species. Once these men thought they’d used thelast ounce of beauty and worth from my body, they’d sell me to the highest bidder. Sadly, the wordhighestdidn’t hold the same weight—monetarily speaking—over the years. Not since I was an innocent five-year-old with puff balls and?—
Don’t go there, Jordyn. If you think of Ja?—
Unwilling to allow my mind to tumble down the road marked with regret, I recalled the past few months Aleksandr had given me cleaning duty. I found more solace in scrubbing marble than in kneeling before him. Was it realistic for me at my current age of twenty-nine to envision myself spending my life in someone else’s kitchen? Not at all.
I shimmied beneath the stench of his pleasure, depending on me, myself, and I to rescue me, even though some hothead had offered to help me tonight. Another shimmy and Aleksandr’s lashes brushed his pale skin. His eyes opened.
Oh, no.
My heart rate ramped. I was already dead.
His eyes rolled closed, and sleep pulled him under. I moved the last few inches from beneath his body.
Plush carpet tickled my toes. I slipped past a red chaise lounge before the massive four-poster bed and opened one of the double doors. In the wide hallway, chills broke over my naked flesh. Cold marble didn’t worry me—neither did being nude; I’d lost that sensibility long ago—but Aleksandr’s men did. They instilled in me a terrifying fear with each breath. This warm July night couldn’t stop the icy fear that clawed at my throat.
Seated on a chair at the top of the sweeping staircase, Denis murmured, “What are you doing here, girl?”
Terror filled every part of me. Unimaginable terror. My heart pounded heavy in my ears.Swoosh,swoosh. “I, um …”
As I approached, Denis smiled in my direction, eyes closed. “I love you,” he mumbled.
Oh, really? This one was chatty when Aleksandr wasn’t around,offering to take his toys. He’d run away with an inflatable doll if she said yes. Nobody took the loudmouth seriously. Who’d have guessed the guard talked too much in his sleep too?
Tiptoeing past Denis, I descended the stairs to my small bedroom next to the kitchen. Aleksandr’s other women enjoyed more luxurious rooms. I knew the drill. The nicer you are to guys like Aleksandr, the higher their expectations. This was shaping up to be the quickest move because of my desire to work in the kitchen. I smirked, tugging my thick hair into a ponytail. All of Aleksandr’s sweating caused it to shrink so much that I sported an afro. I snatched into a pair of undergarments, a shirt, and with each step back toward the door, I was slipping on jeans like my life depended on it. Because it did.
At the front door, my hand rested on the knob. An exhale pushed through my lips. I opened the door, breathing in the warm summer night air. Never had I opened a front door.I did it!I’m free.
My eyes followed the iron gates. Just beyond them, a row of short, thick palmetto palm trees blocked the direction of Los Angeles—where my ride was coming from.
C’mon, where are you?Here I was, trusting someone again. What a mistake that might?—
From my position within the doorframe, I peered farther out. I’d never been on my own. Didn’t have a mama or daddy to remember. So, in my weakness, I couldn’t just take another step into freedom. A car’s shadow in the night sent my heart leaping into my throat. The headlights, which had been off, flashed. Once. Twice. Three times.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
That was my ride.
I stepped one foot out of the house, then the other.
From behind, a hand grasped my throat, yanking me against a hard chest I knew well. Aleksandr’s chuckle scratched at myeardrums. He dipped his head, nipping my ear. “I thought I’d broken you when you arrived,mylittle Black matryoshka?”
“I’m not a doll! Nobody breaks me.” Mouth set in an angry line, my elbow flew backward. His muscular forearm prevented the surprise attack. The hand at my throat slung me to the ground. His bare foot hovered over my face. Trapped between him and the doorway, with no ability to roll away, I grabbed his foot and pushed it.
A loud refrain from the car’s horn blared from the other side of the gates. My driver saw what he’d done.
