by Drake, J. L.
It takes all my effort, but I pull away and roll off the bed, hitting the floor like a wet rag. Ouch! With every passing second I can feel the drug leaving my system. I tug my heavy body off the floor and shift to lean against the opposite wall.
We sit staring at one another for a long time. I finally clear my throat, wanting some fucking answers.
“Your bracelet.” I point and watch her quickly cover it with her free hand. “Is that new?”
“Sort of.” She forces a smile. She’s lying or avoiding the truth.
I pull my leaden legs up to my chest. “Lynn, I’ve known you forever. You wouldn’t have bought that for yourself. So who bought it for you?” I watch as her face goes from friendly to angry.
“A friend.”
I shake my head, feeling tears pool in my eyes. “I know you took my picture the night I was taken, Lynn. But I want to know why.”
Her face hardens. “I did it for proof.”
“Proof of what?”
She leans forward. “Proof that you were out drinking again, and proof that you were with Joe Might.”
I skip the comment about the drinking and focus in on what really confuses me. “Joe Might? The new client?”
“Yes.”
“What does he have to do with anything?”
She pushes off from the bed and stands by the window. “I hired him to take you out and have you returned at home at a certain time.”
I think back to that night. I remember Joe asked me to go to dinner. We had both skipped out on a very boring meeting. I drop my head to my knees, trying to accept what she is telling me.
“I-I don’t understand, Lynn. Why on earth would you do that?”
Lynn sighs, acting like she’s annoyed that I can’t keep up. “Fuck, Savannah, you had the perfect life, damn it! You had a father who made a ton of money, you got a crap load of attention, and all you had to do was stand there and look pretty. All he ever asked of you was to help a bit with his campaign, but no, you had to whine and bitch about it to me!” She makes a face. “Oh, Lynn, I hate being in the media. Oh, Lynn, I hate all the attention. Oh, Lynn, they think I’m a drunk, blah, blah, blah.” She stomps her foot like a child. “You had it so good, but were you happy? No! You couldn’t see past your own nose. It was always about poor Savannah. Christ, it made me so pissed!”
As everything comes pouring out of her, all I can do is stare at my best friend. I considered her like a sister for years, and to hear the poison in her voice is shocking. To hear someone you love speak to you like this with such obvious hatred is hard to grasp. How she despises me. Yet again, lies are being told; it is incredibly heartbreaking.
“If I was such a terrible friend, Lynn, why did you stick with me for so long?”
“Fame.” She shrugs like I should have connected the dots. “You were going to take me places, and I knew I could benefit, until you started fucking up in the media. That’s when everything changed, that’s when I knew a decision needed to be made.”
The perfect storm is starting to brew inside me, tilting my world off its axis. “Decision?”
“Yes, Savannah, you were bringing everyone down with all your failures, so I stepped up to the plate. I knew someone who knew someone who was involved in human trafficking. Small world, hey?” She chuckles to herself. “So I made some calls, and lo and behold, seems the Mayor of New York’s daughter was a sweet little prize to get. So I hired Joe Might, a friend of mine, to pose as a potential buyer and make sure you arrived at your condo at the right time. I knew you would go get the files. You were always on top of things. You were always so OCD when it came to your job.” She rolls her eyes in disgust. “Then poof, you were gone.” She laughs. “Like a magic trick, now you see her, now you don’t.”
That storm finally breaks, and I jump up and grab her by the hair, the two of us falling on the floor as I punch and kick and hit her, feeling the anger fueling my muscles. I’m sick of the lies, sick of being a victim. She certainly wasn't expecting it, and I get quite a few good ones in before something cracks me in the head and everything goes black.
“Perra.” His voice jolts me from my sleep. “Oh, sweet perra, you came back.”
I quickly sit up and take in my surroundings. I’m in an attractive room with Spanish décor. Sunlight is streaming in through a large window. It’s hot. I’m sweating. I wipe my forehead and smell something funny. I realize I’m not alone in my bed. I scramble to my feet, seeing the blood. Oh my god, there’s so much blood! I’m covered in it. My hair, my hands, my arms, my legs. My fingers shake as I tug the corner of the sheet that’s closest to me. I need to know who it is. Dark hair peeks out. He is turned away from me. I see his shoulders, back, and waist. I drop the sheet and round the bed. I don’t have to see his face to know who it is. My hands cover my mouth as vomit spews out of me.
“No!” I heave and wail at the same time. This can’t be happening! The door opens quickly, and I see The American dressed in shorts and a t-shirt staring at me.
“You did this, you know.” He points with his chin toward the jelly-like body. “If you had just given yourself over to me in the first place, Agent Mark Lopez would still be alive.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, wiping my mouth free of vomit. “Fuck all of you.”
He walks toward me as I raise my chin to meet his stare. His shoulder rises and he punches me square in the face. I feel myself falling, but I never hit the ground. I just keep falling…
I jolt straight up, trying to make sense of what’s going on. I feel around the bed, empty. I see a window, but it looks different than the one I saw before, and it is night. What? So was I dreaming before? Is Mark alive?
Pushing the covers away, I see I’m still in my own clothes. They're dirty, but at least they are mine.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a voice says, coming out of what looks like a bathroom. Luka approaches, holding out a bag. “Here.” He sits the Nordstrom bag in front of me. “We need to meet downstairs in twenty. That should be enough time for you to shower, change, and be ready for the exchange.”
“Exchange?” I blurt out, looking around the room.
Luka nods as he sits a cup of coffee on the table next to the window. “Yes, Savannah. You’ve been bought and paid for. We just need to make sure all the little details are properly checked out before we hand over our, for want of a better word, ace.”
My head is shaking back and forth. It seems nothing in my life can be trusted. In disbelief, I listen to someone else I considered a good friend—an uncle, even—talk about selling me like I'm nothing to him at all but a piece of merchandise. The memory of the truck flickers. “Why the trunk? If I’m still your so-called ace, why did you hand me over to that man? Why risk it?”
He taps his head. “We had to risk it. Your boyfriend's team was hot on our trail. We needed to throw them off, so we hired a friend to take you for a joy ride.” He shakes his head and smiles. “It wasn’t until he heard you talking on that cell phone that he decided to do the hotel trick. He dropped you off to us before he went to the hotel and left a little note for Logan to find. It worked like a charm. Meanwhile, we hopped the first plane to TJ, and you are now lost in a sea of a million people.”
Tijuana? Mexico...The blood drains to my toes. I promised myself I’d never step over the Mexican border again as long as I lived. I've experienced enough hell here for a lifetime, but here I am being handed over to The American in the one place I hate beyond all else. I can’t do this. Not again. I just can’t. I have to do something.
“Okay,” Luka slaps his hands together, making me jump, “let’s go.” He stares at me as I sit like a stone. “You need some help with that?” He smirks and points to my blouse. My eyes shoot to his, more shocked than ever. Luka has never said anything sexual to me before. Never even hinted at it. He really was like an uncle to me. It must show on my face, because he shrugs. “Not like I haven’t thought about it before, Savannah. I'm only human. Can’t blame a man for trying.” I want
to be sick again…or was I sick before? I can’t tell if that was a dream.
I grab the bag and hurry to the restroom, slamming the door behind me. I turn on the water and peel my clothes off and toss them on the floor. I’m not sure when I’ll have a chance to shower again, so I take my time. I find a razor, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner, and with my brain on overdrive I put them to good use.
I look at myself in the mirror, my hair almost dry from the heat blasting in through the tiny window. A light pink dress hits slightly above my knees, and I'm wearing cream color heels. I wonder if Luka was the one who bought the panties and matching bra. The thought makes me want to throw something at the mirror. My eyes focus on the razor beside the soap dish. I examine it, then take the thin comb and snap the skinny blades out. They drop into my hand in one small unit. I shrug out of the top of the dress, taking the sharp blade and cutting into the first layer of lace on the bra. Just large enough to tuck the blade inside so it’s undetectable. I certainly won’t be able to defend myself with it, but I am desperate enough to take anything useful, and I have other ideas if there is any possibility I'm going to be held in another cell. I set the handle of the razor back down so it looks normal and peek out the miniscule window.
All I can see are rows and rows of tin roofs. But I do spot a plane landing off in the distance. I must be close to the airport. Two streets down, I see a convenience store with a payphone outside. I need to get out of here! I nearly sob when I hear Luka's voice through the door telling me it’s time to go. I push on the glass, not that I could ever fit through it, and scream, hoping someone can hear me. A pair of hands grab my wrists, pulling them down roughly.
“Not this time, Savannah. This time you play by our rules.” He yanks me to follow, and somehow I do. He shoves me into the elevator and slams his hand over the L button. “Christ, woman, I wish you would just do as you’re told!”
I stare at the side of his face, wanting so badly to kick him in the stomach. “Oh, I’m sorry, Luka. Should I just nod and smile as you hand me over to The American like I’m some piece of meat?”
“Shut up, Savannah,” he grits out.
“Fuck you, Luka!” I snap back without thinking.
Suddenly he’s wrapping his hands around my throat, slamming me back into the elevator wall. Hard. My head snaps forward from the impact. I cry out, but his lips smash into mine as his grip around my neck tightens. My hands claw at his shirt, but he doesn’t stop. He thrusts his tongue forward as I try to wiggle free. He’s too strong. Oh god, this is disgusting. Finally my brain kicks into action and I jam my knee with all the force I have into his tiny testicles. Immediately he lets go, falling backward. I gasp heavily, trying to get a full breath of air into my screaming lungs, and drop to my knees.
“Fucking bitch!” He groans above me as he drives his fist into my cheek. My teeth clench at the impact, and pain shoots everywhere. This is way too much like my last ‘trip to Mexico.’ My brain snaps to full alert. I need to be able to fight, I need to stay focused. The door opens and I see a blurry figure standing in front of me.
“What the fuck!” my father yells out. I feel his hands on me, lifting me to my feet. I have a small moment where I think my father might actually take pity on me, take me home and protect me from these monsters. “Are you insane? She needs to be in mint condition. If he thinks we’ve hurt her in any way, he may back out of the deal.” So much for ‘daddy dearest.’ I’m a fool.
“What the shit is taking so long?” Lynn shouts from behind us. “We have four minutes before he shows up. Let’s move.” I feel her cast-iron grip on my arm, tugging me toward the restaurant. I notice the staff won’t make eye contact with me, and I think I may be the only guest.
Lynn drops me into a wooden seat as the other three sit around the table. I stare at the yellow flower floating on top of the water in a square clear jar.
“Savannah?” Lynn hisses at me. I look over as she opens her purse and shows me her handgun. Weapons don’t really scare me anymore, so I don't react. “You try and run, I’ll shoot you. I have excellent aim.”
“Good for you, Lynn,” I whisper with a sigh. I’m tired of her now. I look back at the flower, thinking about how much it reminds me of myself at the moment, just floating in a world I have no control over, and helpless to whatever fate comes my way. We’re both screwed.
Mark, John, Paul, Keith, Abigail, June, Sue, Daniel, Scoot, Mike, Frank, Derek…Cole. I keep reciting their names over and over, trying to keep my brain sharp. I will not get lost again, I will not get lost in my mind. I need to stay in the present. Mark, John, Paul, Keith…My head turns to my father.
“How, Dad?” I shake my head. “Please just tell me how you can do this to your own daughter. Do I really mean nothing to you?” I hate that my voice cracks at the end.
He sips his coffee, glancing at Luka, then to me. “It’s just business, Savannah. Please don’t get all emotional right now. I need you to be on your best behavior.”
It’s not a good feeling when your heart breaks in two, but the anger fuses it back together in a matter of seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the words, but it doesn’t work. My eyes narrow in on his, and I let fly. “I hope you rot in hell, you pathetic excuse for a father! Mom was right, you were never much of a man.” This isn’t true, but I know it will hurt his pride.
He quickly stands and makes his way over to me and slaps me across the face. I fall out of the chair, hitting the floor and laughing hysterically. This time Lynn comes over, and I think she’s going to help me to my feet, but she kicks my side hard. I cry out, coughing and trying to catch my breath. Well, if my plan was to get them all to hit me, it worked. I hope if I look like shit there'll be some hell to pay from The American.
I roll to my side, tucking my legs up to my stomach. “Mark, John, Paul, Keith.” I start my chant but freeze when two cobra heads stop inches from my face. Fear dances around my stomach, replacing the pain of my possibly fractured ribs. He bends down and wipes the hair out of my face. Tears are streaming from my eyes now, big hot tears. My family is selling me, The American bought me, the love of my life may have betrayed me, and Derek is dead because of me! All I want is to do is disappear, have something swallow me up, because anything is better than the outcome of this.
“Who did this?” The American asks in a booming voice, looking at me, but I just shake. He reaches out and lifts me carefully and places me on the chair. This action scares me, as it feels almost tender, and for some reason that makes me even more frightened of him. I tense and sit awkwardly in the chair with my eyes glued to the floor.
“Ms. Miller.” I look up and see a white man, who looks like a lighter version of Mike, black and white tattoos from head to toe, and big and beefy. I’m taking it he’s the muscle for The American. He gives me a tight smile then glares at the rest of the group. He continues to stand by my side as Luka decides to start the conversation off.
“So, here she is. We held up our end of the bargain, and now it’s time for you to do the same.” Luka yanks at his tie, clearly uncomfortable in The American’s stare.
Lynn tosses out her best smile. “So why don’t you just make the call to Rodrigo, and we can all be home in time for tea?”
I shake my head, thinking I’ve never seen Lynn drink a cup of friggin’ tea in her life. The table is painfully quiet. All I can hear is the pounding in my head, and I feel my cheek pulsing to my rapid heartbeat. I move without thinking, making everyone look at me. I hesitate but slowly reach into my glass of water and start piling up ice cubes into my cloth napkin, then hold my makeshift icepack to my cheek and eye, tensing in pain. Christ, it hurts.
Finally, The American, who is now watching me closely, turns to look at the rest of them. “Who hit her eye?” His words are spoken with such tightly controlled anger it makes me suck in my breath. “Three, two…”
“Luka!” Lynn blurts out, pointing to him across the table. You can actually see the blood drain from Luka’s
face and it twists with her betrayal.
The American pulls out a pistol, points it at Luka's skull, and pulls the trigger. His body flies backward to the floor. Lynn is screaming, my father is frozen, and I'm numb, beyond caring. The American and his muscle just sit there acting like nothing has happened, exactly how my father, Lynn, and Luka were when Derek was shot. Karma.
The American tucks his gun away. “When we are clear, I will call Rodrigo and tell them the deal is done.” He stands and buttons up his suit jacket. “But I warn you, if you so much as step in my way, I will not hesitate to kill you like I did your friend.” He takes my hand, pulling me up to my feet. “Is there anything you would like to say, Savannah?”
I stare up at him. “To which group of animals are you referring?”
He smiles gently like he’s in love with me. “Less sass, my love. I can be good to you, and you do not want to anger me.” His smile may be gentle, but his eyes have a glint of steel. “I can be very, very bad when I am angry, my sweet, but it is your call.”
I nearly laugh at that. “I’m not your love, nor am I sweet, and you can do anything you want to me because, frankly, I don't care. It’s all been done before.”
My father stands and holds up his hands. “Savi, just do as you’re told, please.”
I shake my head in utter disbelief. “Really, Douglas, you want to play the concerned father now? Save it.” I turn to Lynn. “So help me God, I hope this all comes crashing down on top of you both. I hope you burn in hell, you evil pieces of shit.” I turn on my heel and exit the room with the muscle coming up behind me quickly.
“Ms. Miller,” he calls out. I stop, knowing there's no point. I’ve been bought and paid for. The American comes up to me, gripping a firm hand around the back of my neck.
“You will never turn your back to me again,” he whispers for only the three of us to hear. “Now, I have some work to do. Tim here will make sure you get home safely, where you will wait for me in our room, with nothing on. Oh, and, love, I like you to be smooth down south.” His eyes drop to my crotch. He leans in, grips my head, and kisses me hard. I try to fight it, but he digs his thumb into my shoulder, making me cry and go limp. Once he’s finished, he pushes me into Tim’s grip. “I’ll be home tonight. Make sure she’s ready for me.”