Chapter 8

Tess

~Don’t show me mercy, don’t cut me loose, I need you to tighten that noose.~

~“I told them to take you, esclave.”

“Did you honestly think I could want you?

“You aren’t enough for me. I was kidding myself, and it’s time to end this. Time you went to an owner who wants you.”

Tears rained down my cheeks as I huddled on the floor by Q’s feet. He stood proud and regal, entirely closed off and robotic. No cares, no feelings, no love or need in his eyes.

Just pure, calculated indifference.

“You don’t mean that. You don’t. I know you, Q. I know you—” I sucked in a huge breath, sobbing at his rejection.

“It’s done. You’re dead to me.” He spun on his heel and prowled to the door. With a parting glance, he sneered, “Don’t let the wolverines shred you alive.”

The door slammed, and I was left in a pit with twigs and mud facing three pacing, starving wolverines.

Looking half-wolf, half-badger, and full demon spawn, they slobbered and stalked, their yellow eyes glowing with the thought of an easy dinner.

“Q!” I screamed, scrambling backward. The wolverines twisted into dinosaur size, all of them with barcodes stenciled across their furry chests.

They growled and blood spewed from their mouths, creating a river of red, lapping at my feet.

I’m in hell. I’m dead, and this is my penance.~

“Stop screaming, ~puta.~ For fuck’s sake, trying to sleep here.” Something sharp kicked my thigh, and my gritty, heavy eyes opened.

I tried to sit up, but my body no longer belonged to me. It belonged to the chemicals blocking my brainwaves.

It succumbed to the sweet fog, stealing my consciousness, and evoking horror-filled nightmares.

Giving up the fight to corral my limbs into working order, I lay back. My vision was glassy, and the cracked moldy ceiling above gaped wide and spoke in slow motion. No words. No sounds.

Just speaking silently with its weird ceiling teeth.

Someone poked me in the cheek; I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He laughed. “Fuck, you’re high.”

The voice turned my heart to lead, and I fought harder to move, to get far away, but every part of my body was weighed down by whatever they’d injected into me.

Hot, cold, numbness, sensitivity. I couldn’t distinguish anything anymore.

Fingers landed on my thigh, squeezing hard. “There, there. You’ll get used to it soon. It’s a fucking trip when you let the drugs take over.” Leather Jacket loomed above me, licking his foul lips.

“You wait till we get where we’re going. I’ll make you feel ~real~ good.” He ducked and dragged his foul tongue up my neck.

I rattled with grotesqueness. Unable to move from the slime, my eyes gushed with tears. They cascaded down my cheeks, filling the shell of my ear with salty liquid.

I wanted to tell him to leave me the hell alone, but my tongue was bound in lethargy.

“Dammit, Ignacio. You were told not to touch her until we arrived.”

Leather Jacket reared back, wiping his mouth with a sneer. “I didn’t touch her.” He gave me a wink. “I licked her. And I’ll be fucking her too before the week is out.”

My heart died and rotted in my chest. This was it then. My life was over. I’d never see Q again. Never be free.

My mind was shackled with chemicals; my body would become a plaything until I died of some horrible malady.

“Crap, turn her neck. I forgot to deactivate it,” Jagged Scar said.

Leather Jacket exploded into abusive Spanish, ranting and raving at him.

I tuned him out. Wishing my other senses, hearing, and eyesight would abandon me, too.

Living as a blind, deaf mute would be better than living through the awfulness when Leather Jacket finally raped me.

My mind flew back to another kidnapping—being owned by Q. He’d slowly turned my eyesight, hearing, and senses against me, but he did it in a way that I accepted, wanted.

I tried to conjure Q, to find some sense of peace even while tears poured from my eyes.

Harsh fingers twisted my neck to the side, and the same iPhone-looking contraption from when I was first tagged, waved over my throat before emitting a painful shrill.

Once again, I tried to shift, to wriggle away from his grip, but nothing worked. Every command fell on fogged receptors, rendering me a vegetable.

“It’s done. If they thought to chase her by the tracking number we provided, they won’t have any luck now.”

The first jolt of life came into my body at the thought of Q coming for me. He’d never rest until he found me. I knew that in my soul.

Q had his downfalls, but saving those who needed saving wasn’t one of them.

~Please find me. Before it’s too late.~

“Shit, man, they could’ve been tracking us for two days.” Leather Jacket glared at Jagged Scar. “That was your fucking job to make sure it was taken care of.

“The Wolverine is gonna be beyond pissed if we fuck this up. You heard what he told the boss.” He cuffed him around the ear, and something clattered to the floor.

“You incompetent little worm; I’ll show you how to make sure that bastard doesn’t sniff her down.”

The sound of a switchblade snapping open sent panic overriding the fog of narcotics. I tensed as Leather Jacket sat beside me and grabbed my throat. He put the knife tip against my skin.

His black eyes burrowed into mine. “Gonna cut you, bitch.”

I whimpered—it was the best I could do. Screaming required muscles that were no longer in my control.

“What the fuck? Don’t, you idiot.” Jagged Scar grabbed the knife and tore it from Leather Jacket’s grip before he could stab me. “I already deactivated it!

“It needs to stay in so we can reboot when she’s sold again,” Jagged Scar huffed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking moron.”

Leather Jacket roared upright and decked Jagged Scar in the chest. “What did you just call me?”

My heart raced faster as the two psychotic kidnappers wrestled and cursed. If they couldn’t work together without killing each other, there was no hope for me.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the raging argument. My forehead furrowed as I coaxed my fingers to move, straining to override whatever they’d pumped into me.

Nothing happened. The bizarre feeling of being untethered from my body caused more panic to race.

I needed to look around, to figure out where I was. I needed to keep track of everything Leather Jacket and Jagged Scar said so I could spy an opportunity to run.

But all I could do was float in a sea of sickness, staring at a cracked talking ceiling.

I’m weak. I’m terrified.

The thought of what would happen almost caused me to throw up.

Leather Jacket appeared in my vision again, smiling with his disgusting teeth and pockmarked skin. “Not long now. I’ve arranged a special welcome-home party just for you.”

Images of rapists and murderers filled me with dread. Oh God, I don’t want to survive.

I mentally slapped myself for the thought. I was stronger than that. I would eventually be coherent enough to fight back.

My body betrayed me and my mind was slush, but I had to stay focused and ready to run. Run back to Q and watch him detach these bastards limb from limb.

My hand twitched into a fist on its own accord, and a flare of pride filled me. I overrode the drugs.

Leather Jacket frowned, his eyes falling to my hand. “Well, that’s just fucking annoying.” He turned to Jagged Scar, holding out his hand. “She’s coming round. Give her another dose.”

Jagged Scar inched closer. I forced every cell in my body to get moving. To launch upright and punch their vile faces in. But it seemed my fist curling was the extent of my progress.

Jagged Scar pulled out a syringe but paused. “I don’t know. If we give her too much she might coma and not wake up.”

My heart charged, head became clearer. Give me more time!

Leather Jacket snarled, grabbing the syringe from him. He uncapped it in an angry wrench and plunged the needle deep into my arm.

The sharp pierce dragged a scream from my lungs, and my last thought was of Q as I was flushed into hell.

“I told you I didn’t want you. Stop fighting the inevitable, esclave, and let these men resell you.”

I hated his icy aloofness, the confidence in his tone. “But, I don’t understand. You want me. I’m yours.”

“I wanted you for a time, and now I don’t. Goodbye, Tess.” His form faded from solid to smoke and wisped away as I fell and fell and fell.

I cried and I begged, but Q never came back for me.

And then the blackness swallowed me whole.

The drooling, yellow-eyed wolverines waited for me every time I fell into the deep.

I lost count how many times I awoke and quickly succumbed again. A constant battle waged in my mind—trying to keep me awake, trying to knock me out.

But every time I dropped into the dark, the wolverines were there. Mauling me, gnawing on my arms and ankles, they drained me of blood, turning me into leather.

Distant voices came and went, broken conversations. Sounds of engines and dreaded transport taking me further and further from Q.

Q appeared in my catatonic state. “I’m coming for you,~esclave. Keep fighting. Wait for me.”

Hope dazzled through me, waking me up, giving me something to latch on to.

“So you do care.”

He leaned over me, his eyes full of pain and guilt. “Of course I care. You’re my gravity. I’ll find you. I’m coming.” Q’s voice resonated in my body, warming me from the bone-deep chill I suffered.

Images of his home, the conservatory with all his birds, filled my mind, granting me a reprieve from horror for too short awhile.

Then sleep grabbed me with its sharp-tipped claws, dragging me back to the wolverines.

The next time I woke, I could move my arms. The heavy cloud of blackness dissipated, letting little rays of myself shine through.

The strength and will to survive returned slowly, quietly—meek and timid. I didn’t want anyone to know I no longer lived in limbo.

I held my breath for eons, making sure I was alone. Every time I opened my eyes either Leather Jacket or an unknown trafficker pierced my skin and drowned out my tentative awakening with drugs.

My gaze went wobbly, trying to focus on the room around me. I couldn’t distinguish anything and random thoughts kept distracting me.

What would the walls taste like if I licked them?

What sound would the floor make if an elephant jumped up and down?

I shut my eyes, trying to get control of my haywire brain. I hated drugs. I’d never used substances in my life. Never dabbled with marijuana or sampled something harder. Now I knew why.

Control: drugs took away control, granted nightmares and hallucinations. They spaced me out, stole time and my wits.

My mind turned rogue, hurtling me back to hell—making me forget how to fight, how to care. It turned Q into a monster.

One moment he cared for me, the next he left me to the den of snapping wolverines.

He came for me when I was raped. He’ll come again.

I wasn’t an idiot. Of course, Q would try. But he would fail.

With no way of tracking me, he would lose the trail quickly. I had to give it to Leather Jacket. I’d never been on so many airplanes as I had in the last few days.

I had no clue how long we travelled. Time ceased to have meaning. I vaguely remembered being carried, engines whirring, tyres squealing.

I slept in cellars and dungeons, only to wake up shivering and cracked out of my mind.

Starving, dehydrated, it was only a matter of time before my body gave out. In fact, it was the fifth time they injected me when I got sick.

The drugs couldn’t hide the racking shivers as a fever wrapped its false blanket around me. Nor could it compete with the wacko visions that now plagued me when I was awake.

I shivered and ached and wished to God I could see a doctor.

My brain felt squished inside a skull full of cement and fog, my mouth parched drier than a desert, and my heart thumped, heavy and broken.

Noise came from behind me; I snapped my eyes closed.

“Wake up, ~puta~. We’re finally home.” Leather Jacket grabbed my arm and hauled me off whatever I lay on. My body, so useless after days of lying inert, slid off the platform and sprawled at his feet.

I bit my tongue at the impact, wincing as blood trickled down my throat. Hunger pangs tore into my stomach, growling loudly.

Trembles from hunger spread through my limbs, adding to the shakes from my fever.

My tongue stopped bleeding, but a sickness rose in me, and I ached for more of the warm metallic. It was the first thing I’d tasted in days—it was beyond delicious to my perishing body.

The blood reminded me of Q. I missed him. Needed him. So much.

Leather Jacket kicked me, just for sport. “You like that? Do ya?” He kicked me again, growling. “Get to your fucking feet. I’m not a taxi. Get your sorry ass walking.”

A wracking cough jangled my ribs, sending me gasping for breath. Fiery pain from his kick radiated outward like a bomb.

I tried to move, I really did, but I was a useless body with no life.

“Move!” Leather Jacket kicked my leg; I cried out.

~Oh God, I can’t move.~

A peculiar calm fell over me, relaxing my trembling muscles. I slumped into a further drug-messed puddle and refused to obey.

After fighting so hard in Mexico, after surviving Q and the rape, I had nothing left to give. No matter how hard I fought, or how much I refused to give in—it was never enough. So why bother?

~Is this it, Tess? You’re just going to give up?~

“Oi, bitch!” Leather Jacket kicked me again.

I moaned, cursing him to hell, but I still didn’t move to obey. If he killed me from sheer rage, so be it. I wouldn’t walk to my own demise. I wouldn’t put myself through that again.

“I’ll break your neck if you don’t get up right now, slut.” He ogled me, his boot raised, ready to deliver his promise.

~“Get up,~esclave! ~Give me time to find you before being reckless with your life. Your life belongs to me, no one else.”~Q manifested in my feverish brain and I groaned.

I didn’t want a pep talk from my cracked-out subconscious. I just wanted to lie there and give up.

“Lève toi!” Get up. Q leaned down and brushed tangled hair from my cheeks. His face contorted with grief, darkened with sorrow. “Please, Tess.” His pleading wrenched my heart, and I moved.

I moved on my own.

Leather Jacket chuckled. “Didn’t like the thought of a broken neck, did you, slut.” He crossed his arms, watching my slow progress as I pushed off from the ground.

Lack of food tore my stomach, the fever rattled my teeth, but I bore through it all to stand upright for the first time in days. The drugs receded, not that it made a difference to my swimming head.

“I did this for you, Q. Don’t make me regret it. Find me.”

Wobbling, coughing, I stood as tall as I could, but the bruises from his kicks kept me hunched. The pride in the small victory blazed bright, giving me courage that I could fight.

That I could battle against the drugs and win.

Leather Jacket smirked. “Not so hard to obey, is it?” He pulled out a dog collar from his pocket, and with calloused fingers secured it around my neck.

His vile fingers deliberately squeezed the buckle one notch too tight. I struggled to swallow.

I didn’t move a muscle, or let my face portray my hatred for him. I nursed my anger like a small flame, coaxing it to flare brighter, ready to explode.

I let him believe he owned me. All in the name of self-preservation.

“Good dog. Time to go and meet your new master.” He attached a chain to the collar and yanked me forward.

I stumbled, following him from whatever mode of transport we’d been in—a large black van with no decals—and entered muggy night air.

I looked around greedily, imprinting as many details as possible.

Water lapping. A harbor. Bright lights in the distance. The reek of fish and salt.

The balmy weather suggested somewhere tropical, and my heart curled in terror at the thought I might be back in Mexico.

If you are, who cares, Tess. It doesn’t matter where you are because you’ll be leaving soon.

You’re a survivor and today is not the day you give in.

That was yesterday.

Today was entirely different.

I awoke to an ocean of icy water. It came from nowhere, drenching me, causing Q’s pale shirt to cling to my rapidly depleting curves.

Gasping with shock, I sat up, scooting to the end of the pallet. My eyes darted around the cell—dank, freezing, reeking of dried fish.

Three goons stood staring, raping me with their heinous eyes.

Whatever sickness I’d contracted had evolved into a full-blown attack last night. My skin burned, my throat felt like I’d swallowed a bunch of machetes, and my lungs wheezed with every breath.

I couldn’t stop coughing every few minutes, and I was hungry. So hungry.

Leather Jacket stood to the side of his troop of traffickers, holding an empty bucket. “You awake now, bitch?”

Trying not to show my fear, I swiped my face free of excess water and wrung my hair out. I swear steam curled off my skin thanks to my fever.

I coughed hard, smashing my hands against my mouth in the hopes of keeping my lungs in my body.

Once my coughing fit subsided, Leather Jacket muttered, “It’s that time of day. Guess what that is?” He tossed the bucket into the corner, putting his hands on his hips.

When I didn’t answer, he gloated. “The answer is fucking time for your medicine.”

He nodded at the two next to him, and they rushed forward.

~No! Not again.~

I cried out, scurrying backward, pressing against the freezing cold wall. I wanted to burrow my way through the concrete and run. Oh, how I wanted to run.

Four large hands dragged me down the bed and pinned me to the hard surface. “No!” A cough exploded out of my mouth, and every inch pounded like one giant headache.

Bile rose in my throat even though I had nothing in my stomach to reject.

With no reserves and a wasting frame, I knew I didn’t stand a chance, but I couldn’t let them drug me again without a fight.

I fought because I couldn’t do anything else. I had to stop the inevitable, even if it killed me.

The men grunted, fingers digging harder into my body while Leather Jacket slapped me around the head. He laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit.

“I must say, I didn’t expect to see you again, but it proves wishes do come true.”

His black eyes glinted as he grabbed my upper arm. “You might as well give up, slut. I’ve been given orders to break you. Hurt you. Fuck you. Ruin you.

“Degrade you to the point where you’re nothing but a confused sack of shit who wishes daily for death, and then we’ll sell you.”

My throat clogged; I wanted to cut my ears off. I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to believe. I also hated myself because I saw the truth. Everything Leather Jacket promised would come true.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

He licked his lips, pulling another syringe from his pocket. “Turns out your fucking master has enemies in high places. What did he do, puta? Who did he piss off, the stupid cunt?”

~“Je suis à toi, Tess.”~Q’s voice whispered in my head. I latched onto it, giving me courage to face whatever was coming.

Q would come for me.

~Q is coming for me.~

One of the thugs jerked my arm up, imprisoning me.

“Stop! You don’t have to drug me.”

Leather Jacket pressed his lips against my ear. “Oh, but we do. That’s the fun of it.” He pulled back and tapped a vein, then stabbed the needle into the crook of my arm.

The sharp prick heralded more doom.

Instantly, the heat of my fever was replaced with numbness. My head lolled on my shoulders as liquid horror made its way around my body—stealing limb control, turning the volume down on my soul.

My personality faded, muted by distance and echoes. The drug stole my thoughts on why I should care, blurred boundaries of right and wrong.

I screamed silently as I drowned in venomous smog until finally I sighed, completely dead inside.

Leather Jacket chuckled, speaking in a string of words that made no sense. His head seemed to swell to gigantic proportions, and I giggled.

~He’s a fucking idiot—he can’t even speak properly.~

Visions of dancing alphabets kept me company. Vowels pranced by in drag; consonants strutted past in dominatrix wear. An S tangoed with an X, while the Q—

Fuck, the Q.

Why did I hold such fondness for that letter? Such a lifeless character and yet it dragged hot, determined emotion from the dregs of my heart.

That letter belonged to someone else, someone worthy, not the drugged captive.

A heavy wall of nausea slammed into me, chasing lethargic blood, trying to remember.

I flinched as Leather Jacket squeezed my breast and breathed hot on my face. “Forget everything you ever knew, bitch. You thought Mexico was bad?

“That was fucking Disney World compared to this carnival ride. You aren’t human anymore.”

His slimy hands twisted my nipple, cutting through the haze like a whiplash. “I’m going to enjoy every moment we have together. You’ll never know what’s coming, you’ll never heal.

“The drugs will turn you against everything you’ve ever known. They’ll tear your brain apart with hallucinations. I’m gonna fuck you up, pretty girl, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His touch dropped from my breast to between my legs and squeezed. “Then let’s see you fight.”

Roast chicken.

The smell of delicious food roused me from my drug-coma, fluttering my eyes back to the world of the living.

The moment I woke, I wanted to descend back into the fog-filled abyss I’d lived in since Leather Jacket made promises that made me want to slit my wrists and paint my cell red.

“Hello, girl. How pleasant to see you again.”

The man who ran the operation—the same one who ordered me to be drugged and stuffed on a plane bound for Paris—sat on the edge of my pallet.

His sky blue eyes, so like Brax’s, reminded me how drastically my life had changed.

His perfect clothes and blond shaggy hair looked as if he’d stepped from an Aussie beach and needed a surfboard under his arm.

“Here, let me help you up.” His hands scooped under my arm, levering me into a slouch. I wiped away drool from the corner of my mouth as fumbling life came back into my body.

My eyes latched onto the platter of chicken, vegetables, and bread. Gone was the ability to think. My stomach roared and stabbed with a thousand desperately hungry knives.

White Man chuckled, nodding. “That’s for you. If you do what I say.”

~Shit. What the hell did he want? What more could I give?~

~“Esclave, don’t give up. Stay alive. For me.”~

Tears pressed and every regret I felt for pushing Q too far choked me. I should never have made him come that morning. I should’ve thanked him for every bit of attention and fair treatment he gave me.

Why would he come for someone who promised to make his life hell so she could own him?

~Why did you push him away?~

My mind couldn’t focus anymore—everything was upside down, back to front.

Suddenly, no matter how hungry I was, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating. My heart was empty; my stomach should be, too.

White Man ran a fingertip along the back of my hand. “Stop thinking. It gets easier if you let the drugs take you.”

A loud cough stole my oxygen, racking my body with barks. Once the spell was over, I looked up with watery eyes, begging him to let me go. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He stiffened, and shadows lined his face. “You didn’t do what I wanted the first time. I must say, I’ve never had a client demand us to collect his purchase before.

“I almost didn’t agree—after all, it’s not my business once monies have been exchanged—but the Red Wolverine had a very valid point.”

I gulped, hanging my head. What did I do wrong as a slave? I fell for my master. I taught him that two people could be perfect for each other. What was so wrong about that?

White Man continued. “I grow rather close to the clients who buy merchandise from me. So you can imagine I want to maintain a happy relationship with them.

“This particular buyer sent us to collect you for a rather unforgivable reason.”

He stopped, buffing his fingernails on his trousers. “Do you want to know what you did wrong?” Not waiting for my reply, he carried on, “He bartered you for a business transaction.

“That same business transaction met with…difficulties.” He laughed. “Of course, it does help that he paid double what you cost with strict orders to ruin you.”

My eyes shot to his, trying to unscramble the mess of sentences. Drugs clouded me, leaving me in a stark reality where I could only hope death was short and fast.

As a last resort, I asked, “How much did I cost? I’ll buy myself. You’re a businessman, let me make it worth your while.”

Q would give me the money. I had no doubt about that.

White Man stood, throwing his head back in mirth. “You’re worth more to me than money now, girl.

“You see, my orders are simple.” His eyes narrowed and all humanity dissolved—I stared into a killer’s soul. “You are to be unrepairable.

“And after your little stay with us before, I know your strength lies in your mind. You won’t be broken by physical abuse—your key to breaking is something harder.

“Something I haven’t come across, but I’m looking forward to seeing put into action.”

He leaned down, eyes looking deep into mine. His cologne gagged me with its cloying, syrupy stench. His blue gaze ripped me into bleeding pieces. “You will work for me.

“You will do what I say, when I say it. You will beat other women. You will hurt them so fucking bad their minds will shatter and you’ll wear their lives on your soul.

“If you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll kill them to make you obey.” He grabbed my chin; his Mediterranean accent snapped every word into violent shards. “Do you understand?”

I understood. I understood that I would become well and truly deformed as a human being. I would be made to abuse other women in order to keep them alive.

~No.~

I wrenched my face out of his iron grip, glaring. “I’ll give you a million dollars to release me. Give me access to a phone and the money can be in your account tonight.”

~And then Q will rip your intestines from your stomach and burn you alive, you bastard.~

He stood, smoothing his black shirt and jeans. “You’re a fighter to the end. I respect that. But the next time I see you, if you speak back, you’ll regret it.”

I had every intention of fighting back. I would make them hurt me. I would never be responsible for another woman’s spiral into madness.

“You’re worth more than dollar signs now, girl. Better get used to taking orders.”

He pushed the plate of food toward me before striding toward the door. “Enjoy your last meal as a free woman. Tomorrow you belong to me, and you’ll have a full day’s work ahead of you.”

The door slammed behind him, resonating in my barren cell. The fever roared in my blood, making me weak and terrified.

I was no longer merchandise. I was an employee.