by Karen Kelley
“Have you ever been with a man?”
“No,” she replied truthfully. She didn’t tell her that no boy wanted to be seen with one of the Harris girls. She always figured they were afraid the poverty would rub off on them. She never liked them anyway.
They went inside a bedroom, then on to a massive bathroom, bigger than Savannah’s whole house. Isabella immediately began filling the tub with water.
“There is pain the first time,” she said as she busied herself setting out a towel and washcloth. “You must not fight him. It’ll only make it worse.” When the tub was full, she turned off the water and faced her. “Take off your clothes and get into the bathtub. Wash everything. There are bottles of shampoo and soap. I’ll be back with clean clothes.”
As soon as Isabella left the room, Savannah hurried to the toilet and threw up. Tears filled her eyes. She felt as if all her dreams for her future were being shattered. Rena would be next. Her spirit crushed. She had no doubt Emmett would sell Rena just as he had her and Jade.
No! She would find her way back home, and they would run as far away as they could. She wiped her mouth on the pretty, white towel, not caring if she messed it up, then rushed to the door and opened it a crack.
The hallway was empty, so she hurried out. By the time she came to the stairs, she was shaking so hard that she could barely walk.
Savannah drew in a deep breath, then slipped down the winding staircase. She heard men’s voices, but they came from behind a closed door. She hurried to the front door and slipped outside, glad of the darkness of night with only a half-moon to light her way, and then she was running as fast as she could. The wind felt cool on her skin. She almost laughed, but didn’t. Only when she made it to the main road would she feel safe.
She stopped when she was almost at the end of the road so she could catch her breath. A light glowed in the guard shack, and the man with the gun was still there. She crossed over into the pasture. The fence surrounding the place was at least ten feet high and made of black iron.
Her heart pounded, and it was getting more difficult to take a deep breath. There had to be a way out. She hurried along the fence line and was almost to the point of thinking she might never escape when she spotted one bar missing. She ran over and put one leg between the bars, then squeezed the rest of her body through until she was on the other side. Savannah was pretty sure the main road wasn't too much farther. If she didn't slow down, she could be there in half an hour. She drew in gulps of air, then took off again.
Savannah ran until her side began to ache. Her breathing was strained, and she could feel the beat of her heart as it pounded inside her chest. She’d been running a long time, and she didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the main road. It hadn’t seemed this far earlier.
Headlights suddenly came over the hill in front of her and caught her in the face. She stumbled as panic washed over her. The car slowed, and the window came down. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn’t Marco. Still, she hesitated.
“Do you need a ride, miss?” the young man smiled at her.
He looked nice, and the main road was farther than she’d first thought, but he was going in the opposite direction.
“Thank you, but I’m going to the main highway.” She started to leave, not wanting to stay in the open longer than necessary.
“No problem. I can turn around. It’s still a couple of miles. Quite a ways to be walking alone at night.”
She tried to decide what to do. As soon as Marco realized she was gone, Savannah was certain he would come looking for her. “I’d appreciate it,” she finally said and got into the passenger side of the car.
“I’ll turn around up here,” he said.
Savannah didn't like the idea of going back the way she'd come, but the road was narrow and she'd hate it even more if they ended up in the ditch.
“Where are you headed?” he asked conversationally.
“Home.”
He nodded and turned into Marco's drive. The gate was open, and the guard wasn't there. When he didn't turn around, she looked at him. "What are you doing? You have to go back the other way." She reached for the door, but there was a distinct click.
“I’m sorry, but the boss wouldn’t like it if I didn’t return his property.”
She lashed out at him, hitting as hard as she could, but he only dodged her fist. “I don’t belong to anyone,” she spat. “I’m a person, not a thing!”
After he pulled to a stop in front of the house, he glanced across the seat at her. “Such fire in one so young.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame, but you might survive if you hold tight to the strength inside you.”
There was another click, and her door was flung open. She looked into the angry eyes of the man who’d paid for her. He didn’t touch her, only motioned for the man beside him to drag her out of the car. Marco walked around to stand in front of her, then made another motion, and the man forced her to her knees.
“I am Marco Sanchez,” he snarled. His hard gaze locked on hers. “I control this part of Texas, and no one crosses me because they fear retribution. You will soon learn your place.” He looked up and nodded to another man. He took her other arm. Marco grabbed the collar of her shirt and ripped it off her back.
She desperately looked around as fear consumed her. Another man came forward carrying a metal rod, the end glowed red. She struggled against the men holding her.
“So you will not forget I own you, Chica.”
She screamed when the branding iron touched her tender skin. Intense pain wrapped around her, squeezing. The acrid odor of burning flesh filled her nostrils. As blackness closed around her, Savannah thought this was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to her.
She was wrong.
Chapter Two
Five Years Later
“I will return soon, Chica,” Marco told her.
Savannah stared out the window. “I’ll miss you,” she said, words dull and flat.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”
“Of course,” she turned and went into his arms, as was expected of her. He kissed her long and hard. She thought of other things. Jade jumping onto a log, raising her arm high in the air and declaring she was the queen of the forest, even though it was only a bunch of scraggly cedar and mesquite trees.
He ended the kiss and smiled down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. “My beautiful Savannah,” he said. “I knew you would come to love me as much as I love you. All I had to do is train you so that you would know who was boss. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you don’t hate me for the things I’ve had to do.”
“No. It was needed.” She looked beyond him, rather than looking directly into his cold, hard eyes.
“Good. Did you finish everything on the list I gave you?”
"Yes, Marco. Everything." She always did. Every day. She'd scrubbed the bathroom until it shone, trying not to look at her reflection. Trying not to see what she'd become. She'd dusted, swept, and mopped. She'd eaten when it was time, according to the list. Went to the bathroom, according to the list. Then she'd showered using the special soap Isabella made for her. She suspected it was more bleach than anything. Then she'd applied the lotions so her skin would be soft and pleasing for Marco.
“Very good. I’ll see you later tonight.” He turned and left.
She watched from the bedroom window as Marco and his men loaded up in the three cars. There was a big drug deal going down tonight. Francesco wanted all of Marco’s men there. She’d overheard Marco talking to his men. He would leave the guard at the entrance to his property, but the rest would go with him.
Marco would never go against orders from his boss. The only people left at the house were her, Isabella, and Martin. The gardener would soon return to his family. Savannah had already told Isabella that she was tired and would be going to bed early. Isabella believed her. Why wouldn’t she? Marco had train
ed Savannah so well. Savannah had made sure that’s what they all thought. Then she had waited. There would be no mistakes this time. Not like that first night.
As soon as the cars were out of sight, she quickly rinsed the taste of Marco out of her mouth, then changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. She put pillows under the blanket on the floor at the end of Marco’s bed. She was only allowed in his bed when he wanted her there. Like a good pet, she slept at the end of the bed.
She grabbed a baseball cap she’d stolen from the son of one of Marco’s men and stuffed her hair beneath it, along with a backpack that was ready to go. Was she terrified? Yes, but she couldn’t continue to live like this. Her plan had been in place for a long time. She knew someday she would get the chance to run. This was that chance.
She listened before stepping into the hallway. She hadn't thought Isabella would be upstairs anyway. More than likely, she would be in the kitchen. Still, she was cautious as she hurried down the staircase and slipped out the backdoor, always looking over her shoulder. The sun was sliding beyond the horizon, but there was a partial moon, so it was almost like daylight.
She stumbled. A branch scraped her arm. She quickly grabbed her arm, staring at the thin line of blood, and froze. Marco would be furious if he caught her. She should go back inside and await his return. What was she doing? He would kill her. Tears filled her eyes. She glanced back at the house. Her breathing quickened, and her heart pounded so loudly inside her chest she couldn't hear anything else.
No, she couldn't go back! Only forward. She took a deep breath and dodged between trees and thick bushes as she made her way to the gardening shed, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Martin's old blue pickup parked next to the building. He would be inside, putting away his tools.
She refused to think about the consequences if she was caught and climbed into the bed of the pickup, crawling beneath the gray tarp that was always there. Her pulse was racing, and she knew Martin would hear her breathing if she didn't calm down.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to think about something else. Jade and Rena immediately came to mind. She began to relax, then smiled. She didn’t tense until the door on Martin’s pickup creaked open, then slammed closed.
He would be headed home. She’d talked to him once and knew he lived in the country. It would be easier to escape from there than it would be from Marco’s. At least, that was what she was counting on.
Being in the back of his pickup jostled her around, but as he slowed for the guard shack, she once again held her breath, but she didn’t have to worry. The guard waved him through.
Excitement began to build inside her. She couldn’t stop it. Just as suddenly, the reality of what she had been through for the last five years sank in and her shoulders shook as sobs overtook her. She couldn’t go back. Not now, not ever.
She stayed crouched down, but pushed the tarp off her head enough so she could breathe better as soon as they were far enough away from the guard station. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to do after she got to Martin’s. She hoped he didn’t live far from town. She would need to put as much distance between her and the San Antonio area as possible.
A car went by. She moved down lower and pulled the tarp higher. Another car whizzed by. Then one more. All black, all familiar. Her heart began to pound. No, it wasn’t fair! She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat.
There must've been a change in plans with the drug shipment. That was the only reason Marco would return this soon. She should've been long gone by the time he got home. Maybe he wouldn't realize she was gone until later tonight. She still had time to make good on her escape.
But she knew Marco. He always checked on her first thing. He would know she was missing as soon as he saw the pillows beneath the blankets.
She began to shake. What if she got Martin’s attention and begged him to return her to the main house? He might not say anything. She could tell Marco she’d gone for a walk.
Please, God, please help me, she silently prayed. She couldn’t return. She couldn’t. She swiped at the tears on her face. She still might be okay. She only needed to think about every possibility.
How soon before Marco figured she’d hidden away in the back of Martin’s pickup? Maybe an hour? He would explore every avenue of possible escape. He would have his men looking for her. She had a little bit of a lead. Would they go straight to Martin’s? Probably. They would at least call him.
Martin turned onto the main road. She kept watching for black cars to overtake them with Marco in one of them. He’d be furious with her. She closed her eyes tight for a moment. He would beat her, but not so that it left any marks. His brand was the only mark he’d put on her, but he had other ways to cause pain and humiliation.
He loved to use electricity. He’d put the pads on the bottom of her feet, then flip a switch. He would sit and watch as her muscles jerked, and she would cry out in pain. Or he would lock her in the special closet all day without food and water.
Martin began to slow. She quickly glanced around. This wasn’t his home. There were lights. Lots of lights. Maybe God had finally heard her prayers. Martin stopped the vehicle beside the gas pumps. She wiggled back down, pulling the tarp over her head. She didn’t dare move even an inch. When she realized she was holding her breath, she slowly released the air in her lungs.
Even though bright lights shone down on her, there was no way he could see her. She’d made sure that she was completely hidden under the tarp in the bed of the pickup. Even when the ride was bumpy, she’d been cautious.
He whistled just below his breath as he started the gas going into his tank. The whistling began to fade. She waited a moment more before moving just enough that she could look over the side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him going into the convenience store at the truck stop. This was her chance. She'd gone too far to turn back now. If Marco caught her, he would kill her. She had no doubt about it.
She quickly crawled over the far side of the pickup bed, taking her backpack with her, pulling the baseball cap low on her forehead, hair tucked beneath. She headed straight for the restaurant that was next to the convenience store. She would wait it out there until Martin left.
Once inside, she slipped into a booth at the back, next to the window, so she could see when Martin came back out. When the waitress came over, Savannah looked nervously around as panic immediately began to fill her.
“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”
The mere thought of food right now made her stomach clench. She shook her head.
"Something to drink? A soda, maybe?"
What should she do? It had been so long since she'd been on her own. Her pulse sped up, and for a moment, the room blurred.
Stop!
She needed to think. She knew she couldn’t just sit there without ordering something, so she said, “Yes, please. A Coke?”
“Are you okay, honey?”
She nodded, then turned her head toward the window. How was she going to manage if she couldn't even remember how to think for herself? She drew in a deep breath. No, she could do this. Before Marco, she'd taken care of her and Rena after their father sold Jade. She'd scrounged for food, kept the dump they lived in clean, and made sure Rena kept up with school.
At the thought of her little sister, tears misted her eyes. She’d tried to return. She closed her eyes and drew in another deep breath. When she opened them again, the panic attack was subsiding. She could do this.
Her only regret was putting Martin in this position. The gardener was a quiet, soft-spoken man. She only hoped Marco or his men didn't realize she'd made her escape in the back of his pickup. He was only a gardener, so maybe they wouldn't even suspect him. She liked him and didn't want to get him into any trouble. Who was she kidding? Of course they would think she might have slipped into the back of his pickup.
When the waitress brought he
r soda over, Savannah reached into her backpack and pulled out a five-dollar bill.
"Just pay at the cash register when you’re finished, sweetie," the waitress said. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
Savannah shook her head, and the waitress left. She could think of quite a few things she needed. A safe place to hide until Marco stopped looking for her. That would be nice. She doubted the waitress would be able to help her, though.
Marco would look for her. She had no doubt about it. He was obsessed with her. Since that first night, he'd kept a guard with her all of the time. The only freedom she had was when she was inside the house, except for Isabella, who also watched her when she wasn’t busy with her own duties. Once she stepped outside, there would be a man beside her.
Except for tonight.
It wasn’t that he trusted her. No, Marco didn’t trust anyone. He thought that he’d broken her spirit. That she’d resigned herself to her lot in life. She’d made sure that was what he’d thought. The anger she felt every time she thought about him, every time he took her, would never die inside her. She just had to get as far away from him as she could.
When the bell over the door jangled, her body jerked. She only relaxed when she saw that it wasn't Marco or one of his men. This man was tall, at least six feet, with broad shoulders and muscled arms. He had dark hair, but not greased back like Marco wore his. He had a five o'clock shadow and a close shaved mustache. There was an arrogance about him. As if he owned the world, and he didn't care who knew it.
He stopped and spoke to the waitress a moment before heading to a booth. He walked right toward Savannah. Their eyes met. His pale gray and intense. When he nodded, she downed her head. He moved to the booth behind her. Something fluttered inside her, but she quickly dismissed the feeling as nerves.
She looked back out the window and watched as Martin came out of the convenience store, going to his pickup. He hung up the gas hose, took his receipt, then got inside and drove away. Relief washed over her.
Her idea had been to escape. That was as far as she'd gotten planning anything. She'd thought about hitchhiking. She knew that wasn't concrete enough. There had only been a few cars come through for gas. Besides her, an older woman, and the man behind her, they were the restaurant's only customers. At this rate, Marco would surely find her. She needed to think, and maybe pray for a miracle. Yeah, right, those had been few and far between over the years.