“Just as soon as you give us what we want.”
I sucked in a breath, nodding. “Anything,” I promised, though that wasn’t true because I didn’t know what they wanted. I didn’t have anything to give.
“Where’s the deed to this apartment?”
And that was exactly why I couldn’t keep my promise. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie to me, little girl. Your daddy already told us you were left this apartment. Now, where’s the deed?”
“My da…” I shake my head, fury building. “My dad knows this apartment is mortgaged because he’s the reason why.”
He turns his head, dragging his nose down Phoebe’s face. “Then it looks like we’ll be keeping your sister.” Dark eyes snap to mine.
I didn’t know what he was doing with her. My stomach turned thinking about it. What I did know was that I couldn’t let it continue. “Take me.” If it meant she was safe, I would go with them willingly. I didn’t care what they did to me as long as they let her go.
Phoebe’s eyes grew wide. More tears spilled down her cheeks as her head shook. “Poppy, no.”
I ignored her. “Take me, and let her go.”
The man tilted his head, looking me over from head to toe. “Or I could take you both. Your dad says you’re a dancer. I bet you’re real flexible.”
Bile rose in my throat. “I don’t know what my dad has to do with anything, or why you have my sister, but if you let her go, I can get you the deed.”
He growled, moving his arms until they were wrapped around Phoebe’s neck. “How about you tell me, or I snap her neck and take you, anyway?
“Then you’ll never get what you want.”
“You said it was mortgaged. How do you plan to get it?”
“My boyfriend. He has the deed. There wasn’t much left, so he bought the debt, and I’m paying him back.”
His jaw worked back and forth. Anger clouded his eyes. He wanted to call my bluff. Except I wasn't bluffing. His lips curled, and his nostrils flared. “Fine,” he practically spat the words. He twisted Phoebe’s face toward his, absolute cruelty marring his already disgusting face. “I was done with her, anyway.”
He shoved her away, and she hit the floor with a whimper. My heart ached. She looked so frail, no doubt from spiraling deeply into her addiction, that I feared she would break.
“I’ll need your phone to send him a message.” I insisted, hoping he would give me the phone so I could call the police.
“Not a chance. If this boyfriend exists, he’ll come looking.” He turned his beady, cold gaze on Phoebe. “You’ll stay here and give him the message.” He tossed a phone at her. “Have him call me on that. If you don’t, your sister will die.” He turned back toward me, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes. “In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy breaking you.” He gripped my face and dragged his tongue across my cheek, then jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
***
My lids slowly peel open as I return to consciousness. Misery sweeps through my body like a tsunami. I turn my head back, trying to see where I am through the darkness. If the scent of motor oil and gasoline means anything, I have to assume I’m in a garage.
My mind becomes a maelstrom of turmoil, working to remember where I am and how I got here. Thunder booms against my ribs. Oxygen refuses to enter my lungs.
Don’t fucking panic, Poppy. Think.
My deep inhale is like fire spreading through my chest, making me wonder how long I’ve been here. I breathe in and out, forcing my racing heart to slow and my mind to focus.
It takes a few more breaths, but it finally comes to me. Phoebe, my apartment…the strange men asking for the deed.
The last thing I remember is climbing into the backseat of an older sedan, curling my nose at the disgusting smell of body odor and sex, choking back my gag reflex. The guy with the slicked hair slid in next to me, and my skin prickled with wrongness. It took a lot of effort to stay still, unaffected, when he reached for me.
A sharp stick in my arm. Dizziness. The feeling of floating. Then…
Nothing.
Those assholes drugged me. How long was I out? What did they do to me?
