PROLOGUE
LETTY
One Year Earlier
Run.
Run.
Run.
Three letters, one syllable, and the only word I keep in my vocabulary as a consistent word. Looking back, I should have seen the signs, except I'd been naïve. Growing up the way I did will do that to you, time had always been tough in the Barnes household.
The wondering how rent would be paid, if there would be enough money for power, and no longer stretching food to last as long as possible stopped.
When Mom met Joshua when I was fifteen, things changed. We moved into a home, one with a yard, where you didn't have to wedge a chair under the handle of the front door because god forbid the landlord fix such a thing as adeadbolt. I also didn't have to sweep the floors of the grocery store or bag said groceries while maintaining my grades in high school. Mom was swept off her feet, and in doing so, so was I. My blinders were perfectly in place, and they weren't yanked off my face until that day.
The day they were married started one of the happiest times of my mom's life. The cloud had lifted, and she smiled a true smile. The dark circles beneath her eyes slowly disappeared, and while she still preferred to work, no longer did she need three jobs, choosing to keep only one. A clerical job at Nicholas' office. Funnily enough, that's where they met. Mom had been a cleaner there, working late at night when they stumbled upon one another, and one thing led to another. Dates came along, overnight stays happened where I'd been invited, unlike all the other losers mom had met before, and I'd fallen for him, like a girl who needed a father figure in her life.
Years of solid good in our lives turned bad in the blink of an eye, with a phone call that changed our lives forever. I'd come home from college, where I'm studying to become a teacher, trying to help others like a lot of others had helped me. Everything came to a screeching halt—a hit and run, dead on impact, no suffering involved. At least that's what the police officers said when they knocked on the door to deliver the news.
Mom was gone.
Joshua wasn't home. I'd been by myself, and the officers stayed as long as they could. I held it together, telling them I would be alright. They still needed to deliver the news to my stepfather, proving it unsuccessful since they stopped at thehouse while another officer went to his work. When they asked me where else he might be, I only shrugged my shoulders. Mom kept tabs on Joshua, not me, though I found it odd they didn't ride to work together that morning like they usually did.
There would be no more Saturday morning pancakes, no more Mom listening to me talk about the drama happening with the girls at school, no more having a rough day and plopping on the couch beside her while she played with my hair. Those days are gone, and ever since we laid her to rest last month, I mourn them more and more as each day passes.
I never thought the day would come when I'd be in the predicament I'm in now—hearing what I'm hearing, seeing what I'm seeing, all while perched on the top step of the staircase. My arms wrapped around my legs, chin propped on my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I don't have the money," Joshua's voice is riddled with fear. I'd feel sorry for him if I hadn't just heard the other man say what he did, the one with the darkest edge, wearing brass knuckles on both hands. He’s the size of a linebacker and has the face of a beast.
"And how do you suppose we'll get it out of you?" A different person is talking now, one I can't see, and I'm not risking a single movement. I'd noticed a few things missing here and there at home, my stepfather's sports car being one of them. Another was the gold Rolex watch he wore on his wrist at all times. Still, I didn't think it would come to Joshua sitting in a chair with a menacing group of men surrounding him.
"Give me another week. I promise I'll have it. All of it." I roll my eyes. I've watched enough movies with loan sharks to know this isn't going to work.
"I'll give you twenty-four hours, then I'll take everything I can from you, including your stepdaughter. How old is she now, twenty?" My stomach sinks, and the overactive imagination inside my head takes hold. Movies and books are my outlet, the way to quiet the noise that seems to rattle around when the world is too noisy. Mafia romance, motorcycle club romance, and the like are among my favorites. Which also means I know what's coming.
"Yeah. She's twenty," Joshua throws me under the bus in a way I didn't see coming. There was no talk of me moving out after Mom died, so I stayed, figuring I'd finish this semester, keep saving my money, and then find a small place to move into. In the meantime, I've picked up where my mom left off. Cooking and cleaning, making sure Joshua didn't have to do too much or becoming more of a burden on him than I already feel like I am, even though I've never asked for much. I should have known better.
Nothing ever works out for the Barnes women.
"Good, I wonder if she's a virgin. Hmm." I bite my bottom lip to keep from allowing so much as a whimper to escape me. The need to stay quiet is at an all-time high, especially since I've been put in the middle of Joshua's bullshit.
"According to her mom, she was." My eyes widen to saucers. How could she divulge this kind of information to him, and why would she?
There's your sign, Letty girl.
"You have until tomorrow, or your stepdaughter will goon the auction block to the highest bidder. If nobody wants her, she'll be used in a whorehouse," the man in a suit states with zero hesitation, looking bored while fixing his cuff links.
"I'll have it tomorrow, promise." I can tell when my stepfather is lying, and he's doing it now. He doesn't make eye contact. Instead, he looks over the big guy's shoulder, and when said guy pulls his arm back, flesh meets flesh. Joshua isn't the only one bleeding. The taste of blood fills my mouth after my teeth did some damage. At least I've been able to stay unnoticed. Even when I take a deep breath, I watch as whoever Joshua owes money walks through the house. I'm undetected. One thing I know for sure, though, is that I have to run. The sooner the better.
Ididn't sleep a wink, too busy thinking over my plan and trying not to leave any kind of trail in my wake. Which meant no using my phone or computer. Web history is easily traced, and calling my one and only friend is completely out of the question.
Desperate people do desperate things, bringing down anyone in their wake, and I refuse to allow that to happen to the only person I hold dear.
The worst part has been pretending. Thankfully, I don't have to do too much of it, though. I waited a couple of hours before going downstairs, pretending it was business as usual, all while plotting how to get out of this house undetected. I cooked dinner, Joshua declined, and I didn't ask about theblack and blue bruising mottling most of his face. I'd probably lose any cool I pretended to have if he insisted on eating dinner together. The only reason I choked food down is out of fear. I didn't know what today would hold, nor the days to come.
I waited until I heard the garage door open and close. Joshua getting rid of his sports car all of a sudden meant he took over driving Mom's car. I've battled with deciding whether to take my car or not. In the end, I decided I may as well. It's paid off, in my name, and I can always sell it if need be. The only thing I'm worried about is if there's some kind of tracking device placed where the eye can't see.
