“Sadie.”
“That’s not a dog name.” She tosses a playful glare at me, and I laugh. She’s so fucking adorable.
“It most certainly is. She’s a miniature Collie. And besides, it was from one of my favorite Beatles’ songs.”
I cock a brow, throw the towel down, and step away from the sink. I drag out the chair across the table from her and take a seat. “The Beatles? You”—reaching across the table, I flick her hair from her face—“pretty girl, listen to the Beatles?”
“Yeah, I listen to everything. My mother…”
And the mention ofthatname brings a flood of tears to her eyes.Fuck. I fucked up. I brought up the things she should forget about.I clear my throat. “Earl will be back soon.” I stand, holding out my hand to her.
She lifts her bound hands and places them in mine.
“Maybe we can do this more often. It’s been nice having you up here with me for the day,” I say as I open the door to the cellar.
Tears trickle down her cheeks, and without thought, I swipe them away. I want to hold her and comfort her. “It’s okay to be upset, but the thing you must remember is Iwillkeep you safe. I won’t let you hurt, Ava. Understand?” I attempt to regain the upper hand. She gives a halfhearted nod and I take her chin between my fingers, forcing her eyes up to mine. “Look at me,” I say, and when she does, something inside of me becomes crippled.
That look of innocence—you don’t see that often here because the girls that come here are already corrupted. Ava is anything but. Hope and love and family, those things are still very fresh wounds here. She is still very much a person—a woman that at one point in my life I am fairly certain I would have chased after, loved, coveted.And the man inside of me still wants to chase her, to love her, to covet her.I sweep my thumb over her soft skin, my eyes drifting to her plump lips. I’m so lost in instincts that I barely notice myself inching closer and closer to her. Bare centimeters before my lips meet hers, I stop myself, gritting my jaw in an attempt to restrain that part of me that wants to take her.
“I promise,” I breathe the words against her lips and she shudders. “I will protect you.” And it is with those words that I turn to head down the wooden steps, to lock her back up in a room and leave her.
“I believe you,” she whispers.
Closing my eyes, I inhale. In this world, innocence is a downfall.
16
Max
Day 20
I’ve triedlike hell to find Lila. But I have no idea who any of these men are, or how they find Earl to get to the girls. Last night Earl was so fucked up he passed out at the kitchen table and pissed his pants. I took the opportunity to go sneak through his room again. It has to be the twentieth time I’ve done it, but to no avail. There is nothing in that room aside from cigarette butts, beer cans, pornos, and clothes.
I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and turn to head back up to my room just as Bubba comes waddling into the kitchen, Rufus at his heels. “That girl should be ’bout ready, huh?” he asks. “What’s it usually take, a month or some shit like that?”
“Yes, but she’s stubborn.”
“Yeah.” He yanks the pantry door open and begins rustling through the bags of food. “She seemed a bit feisty when we got her. Figured she’d be a pain in the ass. Guess you gotta do it right though, huh?”
“Something like that.” I eye him suspiciously. He’s not one to strike up conversation often.
“Hell, might not ever break.” He shuts the pantry door and opens one of the Oatmeal Creme Pies he took from the box, tossing it to the floor for Bear to wolf down. “But I betcha there’s a mighty high number of men that’d pay a pretty penny for one like her, at least I reckon, you know?”
He sits down at the table, dumping his snack out into his chubby hand.
“Hey, Bub.” I take a seat across from him. “Where do these guys come from anyway?”
“Uh, the main guy’s got a site running. Kinda like one of those mail-order bride things.”
I struggle to keep my jaw from tensing. A fucking website to sell these girls? “Really?”
“Yep, well, I mean not exactly like it. I guess it’s more of a site for the guys, you know.”
“Huh…” I know not to say much. Bubba may not talk much, but when he starts it’s like word vomit that just pours from his lips.
He crams half of the Oatmeal Creme Pie into his mouth. “Yeah.” He smacks around his food. “So these guys, there’s this website they can join. Post what they like, you know, hair color and eye color, personalities, and all that shit. Then that’s where the main guy gets the information to have Joseph go and get ’em, used to be Travis, but then when he went off and got killed, they figured maybe they should have a separate person to take ’em and then you to train the girls. I guess your position’s a little more valued and all since you got to have that skill to fuck ’em up in the head.”
My stomach knots. Fucking someone up like that is not exactly what I would consider a skill, but then again, in this line of work, I guess it is.
