Wriggling my body to no avail, I throw my head back in frustration.
Where has he taken me now? I take deep breaths in and out of my nose, doing my best to soothe my discomfort.
Organizing my thoughts, I try not to spiral, taking in my surroundings. The room is dimly lit. There are no windows, and the door is solid wood. The heat is unbearable; how can there be no air conditioning?
I lay there for what seems like hours before the door creaks open. My gut drops as Martin saunters through the door.
“She wakes!” Martin exclaims in a high-pitched tone. “You have been out for twenty-four hours. I had my men transfer you here.” He motions to the room.
Even though I’m scared, I glare at him, no smart remarks, as my voice has been stolen from me.
Quickly looking at my body, I see I have been cleaned, and new bandages have been placed on my wounds.
Bile rises in my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it to go away. I think about how Martin or some guard bathed me, the unwanted touch repulsing me.
A loud horn blares, and we begin to move. I have no idea where this bedroom is located. After a few minutes, Martin starts touching me between my legs. “I am going to fuck you in every hole while we are gone.” No matter what, I can’t fight my body’s reaction to his touch, which happens to be pleasurable.
Wait. Gone? What does he mean?
And that is when I feel the up and down motion propelling us forward. My body is drifting up and then back down ever so slightly.
On edge, I gulp my anxiety down as much as the ball gag will allow me. I clench my core, recognizing we are on a boat. But with Martin, I’m sure it’s more than likely a yacht.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Sitting on the deck of my family’s yacht with an old-fashioned in my hand, I take in the sight of the ocean as we easily cruise over the waves.
My mind is still on Cassidy, and there has not been a day that I have not thought about her, thoroughly envisioning plans on how to find her.
Unexpectedly, my dad joins me, sitting down across from me on one of the many custom-made sectionals on the yacht.
I tilt my head as I gaze over at him. I’d consider my father a handsome man. He has a sharp jawline, salt-and-pepper-colored hair, and is muscular for his age. We share a lot of similar features.
Questions whirl through my brain about the fraternity, holding back anger for not being told the truth about it. I feel disgusted by the memories of being conditioned to rush, thinking it was just a normal fraternity experience. I don't even know where to start; there are so many questions.
I admired the man before me. There was nothing I wanted more than to follow in his footsteps, attend college, join his fraternity, and go on to medical school. Be the legacy he could be proud of.
I can’t help but look at the man before me and see him entirely through a different lens after finding out about the illegal business behind the fraternity. He put up a façade, and no one knew the difference. He was alongside me, pushing me to be a part of something so corrupt. He lacks all morals for human life and involved me in the most grotesque way.
Bravely elevating my voice, I say, “Dad, there are some things that came up in the fraternity I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Like what, son?” he asks, giving me his full attention.
“This illegal business they are heavily involved in that has been going on for who knows how long. Actual human trafficking? I can’t stomach it. How could you be part of this?” My hands shake, demanding an answer.
Sighing, he looks over at the ocean in deep thought before he answers me, “Tyler, it is more common around the world than you think. There are some incredibly powerful people wrapped up in this. Your brothers, for one. There are countless connections and positions you would never even dream of that you will be able to select from.
“Yeah, but at what cost, Dad? How do I just turn a blind eye to this and not say anything?” I lean forward, hitting this next point with the most seriousness I can muster, “Human beings are being auctioned off as nothing more than sex slaves, wiped of their identities and rights.” Instantly, I put my hands on eitherside of my face, trying to wrap my head around this and willing my dad to comprehend the severity.
“Listen, just keep your head down like I did and get through it. Man up and stomach it. Do as little as possible, only doing what is asked of you, and do not involve yourself with any of the slaves; take your emotions out of this.” The words roll off his tongue nonchalantly.
“They told us the brothers who have graduated can take part in the auction; they can truly buy sex slaves for their own gratification. You aren’t tangled up in that side, are you, Dad?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“Of course not, son,” he scoffs, brushing it off. “I am in love with your mother, and that is nothing but a dirty business. I own a prestigious medical practice; what would be the need for me to involve myself in that?”
I nod my head, feeling relieved by his answer. “I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.”
“Dad, I have this friend who rushed with me. She went missing, and I found evidence in the fraternity house; I am positive she was trafficked and auctioned off to a brother. There’s no trace of her anywhere; she has completely disappeared. Is there any way to find her?” I plead with desperation.
