ROBYN
"Why are you doing this to me?" Tears streamed down my face, but this bitch and her two dogs looming behind her were heartless and cruel. They didn't even shift. "Please, let me go. My mom is sick. She needs me."
"Stop with the soppy sob story. It won't work. Your price tag is too high to let you go." Just as she finished talking, there was a knock on the door. "Stop crying, or I will blow your brain off. Don't ruin your makeup, dear. You can't look ugly and disgusting in front of the camera. Do you hear me?" Camera?
I nodded, swallowing hard. The truth might be difficult to hear, but I needed to hear it. "So you're going to sell me?"
"Yes," she replied without an ounce of guilt or regret in her voice.
I tried hard to stop crying to keep my head intact, but my shoulders shook as I sobbed in silence. It became clear to me that these people were maybe part of a sex trafficking ring. And I just became one of their victims.
"Why? Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you?"
I wondered what Mom was thinking right now. She might have thought I finally got laid. And Piper. Did she know I was missing? Did she inform Mom and call the police?
When tears rolled down my cheek, a sudden strike hit my face. The slap was hard. My cheek stung.
"Okay! Okay!" I cowered as a scream wrenched out of me. I sobbed and shook so badly. I didn't want to die in the most horrific way. I didn't want to be sold out either.
She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, glaring down at me. "You have one chance, or your family won't see your head but your body floating in the river. You choose."
"I don't wanna die." With wide eyes, I nodded hysterically. "Please, don't hurt me. Please." I drew a deep breath and held back my sob, but it came out like a pig's snort anyway. Then I behaved to avoid punishment and getting killed.
An hour later, my makeup was done. I stood naked before the four of them as the woman, or a makeup artist, stripped me naked and helped me put on the white satin negligee. My face burned in embarrassment, but what was worse than dying?
I'd never felt so humiliated as the two men gawked at me, shifting uncomfortably with their hard-ons bulging against their pants. It was disgusting.
I also felt dirty and disgusting. I'd never felt so cheap and worthless until tonight. I wanted to tear off the garments and take a shower to wash off the remnants of their look. And I wanted to get drunk to forget the horrific image in my head.
But I knew for a fact that right now was impossible. Unless a superhero appeared out of the blue and saved me, or a sting operation the law enforcement was conducting right now. Otherwise, the luck wasn't on my side. The next time I woke up, someone had already owned me.
A shiver ran down my spine as chills of dread crept through me.
After I got dressed, I was drugged again. The effect was too quick. I didn't even get to say a word before my eyelids fluttered closed.
***
"Hey, Robyn. Robyn, can you hear me?" That familiar voice was too echoey and too loud, like he was talking through a megaphone.
This was impossible. It was not him. It was just a figment of my imagination that he was here to save me because I was too helpless- a damsel in distress that needed saving.
"No. No. No." My voice was hoarse as I screamed so loudly, trying to free myself, kicking something out of the way. "Help! Please, stop. Don't do this to me."
"Hey. You're gonna be okay." I felt warm, huge hands cupping my cheeks, but I was too drowsy to crack my eyes open.
"No. I'm gonna be dead. I'm gonna die." I cried plaintively. I wanted someone to soothe me. I wanted a real human touch, a connection to tell me that I was going to be okay, and that I was safe, not to be sold like livestock.
"It's gonna be okay." The voice was so soft and husky, like he was restrained by hunger. Then I felt like I was lifted and carried securely like a bride before my mind floated away.
I groaned.
That headache again. Throbbing. God, how many times have I had to suffer from a severe headache? I tried to move, but my head was killing me, like I was wearing a head contraption, squeezing my skull tight.
Where am I? I pried my eyelids open and blinked at the blinding lights, burning my sight.
"It hurt." I rubbed my tired, fluffy eyes, shielding from the sunrise.
Sunrise.
I raised my hands. My wrists were free.
My mind raised. I became suddenly aware of the pain in my stiff neck. It was so sore.
My heart pounded as everything that happened last night came rushing into my head. The woman who threatened my life. I patted my neck. I no longer felt the collar around my neck.
I was free. Was I, though?
Someone must have bought me last night. No. I would never be free. My eyes began to sting. My chin trembled as I fought hard not to cry, but about to fail.
Finally, I was fully awake, scanning the unfamiliar room. It looked modern, clean, and monochromatic.
"Where am I?" I swallowed hard and took a deep breath as I tried hard to be strong. My mouth was painfully dry. My throat felt raw, too.
Despite suffering from a terrible headache, I quickly got out of bed. Before I could reach the door, my feet rooted to the floor when it swung open. Someone just opened it from the outside.
This was probably the person who bought me. The person who owned my life. God forbid. My knees threatened to buckle as the suspense and horror of finding out the monster who purchased me, like I was brought to the 18th century, where the height of slavery.
I sucked in an audible breath. My heart dangerously pumped hard. I felt the color drain from my face as I stood face-to-face with my boss, staring at him.
"You?"
