The Matriarch: An Erotic Superhero Romance (The Matriarch Trilogy Book 1)

by Howell, Sloane

  "I am," said another.

  I peered into the pitch blackness, desperate to make out clues to my whereabouts, but was met only with the inky nothing before me. Shooting pain ripped through my head like a million fine needles, making it hard to focus.

  "Where is your family?" I asked.

  "I never knew my family," the same girl said.

  "Me either. We were traded," said another.

  "So you aren't night workers?" I asked.

  Muffled giggles rang out. I didn't see the humor.

  How old are these girls?

  "No, we’re too young for that."

  Nobody is too young for that.

  I cringed at the thought. I'd grown numb to it. Conditioned myself to enjoy the sex. Otherwise, I'd have ended it all long ago.

  The rest of the ride was silent. I tried to form a plan. This might be my only chance to escape, to finally get away from Kiril and enslavement. I had put my past behind me, but the sight of Suki brought it back to the surface. I wanted what I had before. A normal life again.

  I'd thought about escaping plenty of times before, but I didn't know Golem. I was afraid of Kiril — not that he would find me and kill me, but that he would damage me more. That he would find someone else from my past to hurt me again. He did it anyway. My obedience was for nothing. I was glad it was dark and there were no mirrors. Who had I become? I'd told myself it was the only way to survive day-to-day. Not anymore. I was done being that girl, Kiril's bitch.

  But when I reached my destination I would be under Kiril's control again.

  It was now or never. Escape this life or finally let it kill me along with my parents and brother.

  An hour passed and I was still contemplating my next move when I heard a familiar sound. A train. The train that ran to and from Bathory. Happiness filled me for a brief second.

  I had to think quick. What could I do? My mind raced but nothing processed. Breathe.

  I took in a deep breath and collected my thoughts.

  "How long was I asleep?"

  "Maybe two hours. It's hard to tell."

  Perfect. I knew the slave runners only transported under the cover of darkness.

  If I could get out of the truck, I might have a chance. My family used to take drives all over the countryside. A little misdirection and I could slip out of the pack.

  One, two, three...

  "Oh my god, a rat! There's a rat on my leg! Get it off! Get it off!" I screamed.

  The girls in the truck went crazy, pounding on the walls as I ran my hands over a few of their legs. The girls kicked and pushed, screaming and crying.

  The driver slammed on the brakes and all of us flew to the front of the truck and smashed into one another before crashing back to the rear.

  "It's still here! I can feel it! Get it off me!" I shrieked.

  The truck came to a complete stop and a door slammed.

  I kept tickling at every leg that passed to keep the frenzy alive.

  The back doors of the truck flew open and three huge men scowled, holding large guns. One of them yelled, "Shut the fuck up, now!"

  "Oh my god! It's still back here! It's on my legs!" I screamed from the middle of the pack. The group of girls rushed the men, landing on top of them. Surprisingly, no shots were fired.

  One man yanked a girl up by the collar. "What are you doing?"

  "A rat! There's a rat!" she cried, girls still spilling out of the truck too fast for the guards to count.

  It's time.

  I followed behind a few girls and ducked down at their backs as they leapt off the truck. I rolled to the ground and snuck around the side. The men were occupied, but I assumed at least two stayed in the front. I looked down at the white t-shirt they'd dressed me in, an easy target in the dark. I quickly peeled it off, now in shorts and a black sports bra.

  I crawled to the shoulder of the road and rolled into a ditch. There was a puddle nearby and I made my way to it, caking myself in mud to get rid of my cheap perfume scent.

  The girls were still screaming, but it wouldn’t be long before the guards started to account for everyone. I dashed off into the woods, working up to a run once I was out of sight. A dense forest closed around me. Undergrowth scraped at my bare legs as I ran my ass off.

  I sprinted for what seemed like hours, until my legs were on fire. A creek bed blocked my path, the water glinting in the moonlight.

  A depression covered with some limbs caught my eye. Gasping for air, I worked my way under the large nest of branches and lay flat on my back.

  I was determined to stay there as long as it took, until I was certain the men were gone. An hour passed and my eyes grew heavy. I fought to keep them open and stay alert. Before long, my vision grew darker until I finally gave in and the world faded to black.

  My eyes jolted open. A man grabbed my arm. I kicked and tried to squeal, but his hand wrapped around my mouth before the sounds could escape. I flailed and bit at his hand to no avail.

  "I'm not with them."

  My gaze found his face. I didn't recognize him. He wasn't dressed like the guards and he wasn't armed. He was older, but his arms gripped me tight and I could feel them bulge into my ribs, sucking the oxygen from my lungs. The moonlight struck him for a moment and I saw short, cropped dark hair with bits of silver scattered throughout. Black clothes clung tight to him, and he looked to be in his forties or fifties.

  "I will help," he said.

  He threw me over his shoulder and ran. I had never seen anyone move with such stealth and agility. The man knew every step as he dodged trees and bushes, never slowing down, gliding through the dense brush with ease.

  He suddenly twirled behind a tree. Still draped over his shoulder, all I could see was his back.

  "Shh."

  In the distance I heard twigs crack under foot and voices that grew louder with each second. I sucked in my breath.

  I realized I'd left my white shirt on the ground, instantly alarming them to my escape.

  "He will kill us. Kiril gave us specific instructions to deliver the whore."

  My face grew red. I wasn't a whore, not by choice anyway.

  My rescuer could sense my apprehension and gripped me tighter. I knew better than to scream, no matter how bad I wanted to. He was older but his arms were chiseled like boulders. It was too dark to make out any more distinct features, but his chest expanded and contracted in a perfect rhythm.

  When the men passed, he crept in the other direction and ran up a huge hill overlooking the area. I noticed a small house on top that peeked through some trees.

  He sprinted across the landscape with me on his shoulder, carrying me up the steps and through the door. The man took me to a back room where he set me down and removed a rug. He opened the floorboards like a door. I followed him down a staircase. I had no choice but to trust him. It was either him or go back to the old life, if they didn't kill me first.

  I glanced around the room. He showed me to a dresser that held some random clothes I could wear. It was cozy but simple, neutral tans and grays mostly. A small bathroom was attached to the room with small, square-cut tile throughout. The carpet was thick and dark brown, and he pointed to a bed. I hadn't slept in a bed in years.

  "You can sleep here. It's safe."

  "What about—"

  "I'll take care of it."

  He disappeared back up the stairs and the door creaked shut.

  I wanted to ask him questions — to know what was going on. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins. He told me to sleep but I stared at the ceiling the entire night, listening for the guards, worrying I’d be caught, and thinking about what would happen to me. If I had truly managed to escape, what was my life going to look like now?

  I stretched my arms to the ceiling and my eyes slowly opened. At some point my body had given in and I’d fallen asleep.

  The room had no windows and would have been pitch black if it weren't for a small light at the top of the stairs. I peered around, taking in
my surroundings, getting a better look than the previous night. An antique bookshelf leaned on one wall with old leather volumes and a row of textbooks. A matching vanity with a handle missing was next to it. The attached mirror was stained with specks of rust and the image was fuzzy around the edges. A dresser sat against the far wall.

  I placed my feet on the soft carpet and stood unsteadily. My thighs tensed for a moment and then relaxed as I yawned wide. The bed was small and the mattress was a hard, lumpy bit of luxury. To my left across the room was the small bathroom with a shower.

  I jumped when I heard someone beat on the front door, rattling the insides of the walls in the house. The sounds underground were amplified. A shock of nerves struck my chest. When I heard a man's voice, a knot formed in my throat. I froze, unsure what to do.

  Footsteps thudded overhead and a few specks of drywall fell from the ceiling onto my shoulder. My body stiffened and I stopped breathing as the volume of the voices grew.

  I picked at my calloused fingers, trying to tamp down my fight or flight impulse. Don't do it, Maggie. I eased up the stairs, the knot still in my throat as I neared the floorboards.

  "You haven't seen a girl? Roughly 17 or 18, long legs, blonde hair?"

  "No."

  The visitor didn't sound convinced. Another voice rang out.

  "We know she was heading this direction."

  "Nobody is here."

  "If we find out—"

  "You tell Kiril to come see me if he has a problem."

  The conversation ceased. Thoughts raced through my mind. How does he know Kiril? Who is this guy? Was I in danger?

  "How do you know our boss?"

  "It doesn't matter. If I see the girl, I'll let you know."

  "Thank you for your time."

  "No problem. I'll show you out."

  They started back for the door when my foot slipped off a step and I caught myself, but not without hammering my elbow into a two-by-four that framed the house. I closed my eyes and prayed the men hadn't heard.

  "You hear something?"

  "No."

  I stopped breathing, the blood still pounding in my ears far too loudly.

  "Over there."

  The footsteps were loud and rapid, pacing over my head.

  "The house is old. It makes noises."

  "No, I heard something, right here."

  The man stomped the floor inches from my face. My eyes squinted shut and I prayed to any god that would listen they wouldn't find the door.

  I heard hands knocking on the wall and floor, looking for a stud, or any clue that might help them find me. I became lightheaded and thought I might pass out. I held my breath anyway.

  Light footsteps trotted across the floor.

  "Kaja, what are you doing in here? Come boy."

  "It was just the damned dog," the other man said.

  "I don't know..." More footsteps paced around above my head.

  "Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover. Boss can't find out that bitch escaped or he'll have our heads."

  "Sorry to trouble you, sir."

  "Don't worry about it. I'll show you out."

  The front door squeaked open and the sound of footsteps grew quieter before disappearing altogether. When the door closed, I gasped as my lungs filled with air.

  Confused, I sat there, trying to figure out my rescuer. He had to be on my side. He wouldn't have lied to the men if he weren’t. Nobody who knew Kiril would lie to his men. It was a death sentence.

  I put my palm to my face and felt the mud still caked to my cheeks. I prayed it was all a bad dream as I ran back down to the bed.

  The door slammed against the floor and I heard large boots pounding down the stairs. The man appeared around the corner. He had a smile on his face and his eyes were kind. Kaja followed at his heels and sniffed around the room excitedly, as if it were a treat to go downstairs.

  The more I studied the stranger, the more I realized he looked like one of the men who always walked with Kiril in suits. He was older, but built well, precise in his movements. His eyes were narrow, forming a natural scowl.

  "It's ok. They're gone." He chuckled a bit which surprised me.

  "You need a shower." He walked away, pinching his nose and smiling. "Then we can eat."

  I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't stink!"

  He walked around the corner and made his way back up the staircase.

  "Kaja, come."

  The dog whined and stared at me, but eventually obeyed and followed his master.

  I knew I liked the stranger. He reminded me of my dad. I always felt safe around Dad, until the day the monster came into our house and took everyone from me.

  I raised my arm above my head and sniffed under it. My nose wrinkled and I cringed.

  "Holy shit, he wasn't kidding."

  The steaming water rushed over my face and my hand trembled against the tile wall. The swirling brown water slowly turned clear around my feet as it circled in the drain. What is next? I hadn't thought everything through before trying to escape.

  Where would I go? What would I do?

  Kiril's reach was vast. He always knew someone, or someone knew him. Was I going to live with this man out in the forest forever? Would he even let me? I needed to have a life at some point. What was the point of freedom if I didn't?

  I held the fresh bar of soap and tried to scrub the last seven years of my life away: the abuse, the dirtiness, the forced sex, the beatings. My eyes started to burn as I remembered the things that had happened to me, the things I'd done to survive. Everything I'd suppressed and ignored, just to make it from day-to-day. It was like waking up from a nightmare I didn't realize I was living. I took a deep breath, turned off the water, and forced all the horror back inside.

  My skin welcomed the cool air when I stepped from the shower. Steam lingered around the small bathroom and a fog crept across the mirror. I grabbed the two towels the man had laid out while I was sleeping.

  The freezing floor numbed the bottom of my feet as I walked across the tile. I dried my hair with one towel and wrapped the other under my arms.

  I noticed a pair of clothes folded for me on the bed. A small picture sat on the dresser: the man, a boy, and a woman. Was the woman his wife? What if she walked in the house and found me there, naked?

  It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, but it would be the first time I was innocent of any wrongdoing.

  The picture was faded.

  Something had happened to him. Something bad. I could sense it. How else did this guy end up by himself in the middle of nowhere?

  The clothes were anything but flattering to my figure as I tossed them on.

  A heavenly, familiar smell made its way into the basement. Something I recognized from a long time ago.

  "Bacon!"

  I was drawn to the aroma that saturated the air. The doors above were open. When I reached the top stair, the crackling sounds against the pan were sweet music to my ears. I closed my eyes. I was briefly back home in Bathory. The taste and texture of the salty bacon crunched between my teeth while my parents smiled and I teased Kyle before school.

  I crashed back to reality when I rounded the corner. My mouth was watering and the man was humming, facing the stove. He turned around and smiled, nodding to my clothes.

  "Sorry, it's all I had."

  "Please don't apologize."

  I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Running my hands up to his hard chest, I placed the side of my face into his back.

  "You know...I haven't had a chance to properly thank you."

  I felt his torso tighten as my hands started to run down his stomach and into his pants. He spun sharply and my hand flew out of his waist band. I'd never seen anyone move that fast in my life. His face was beet red and I looked down to the floor, afraid to lift my eyes.

  "No!" he shouted. "Look at me!" He placed a finger to my chin and tilted my head up. "That's not your life anymore, understand?" />
  It was all I knew. I burst into tears, realizing what I'd done. It's not how normal people lived. It wasn't the proper way to show gratitude. I could tell he felt bad about the outburst and his face turned soft and gentle. He wrapped me in a hug and consoled me while my tears soaked into his shirt.

  "I'm sorry it's all...I'm so sorry." My look begged him to forgive me.

  "It's okay." He smiled and put a palm on each of my shoulders.

  I managed a smile, knowing he didn't hate me.

  "Okay." My bottom lip quaked.

  He pulled me back into his arms and ran his hand through my hair. For the first time since I could remember, I felt safe.

  He let go and placed his calloused hands back on my shoulders.

  "You need to eat something, okay?" he said with a large, gentle grin. "Nobody is going to take you. You don't have to be afraid here."

  He walked back over to the stove and began to hum again. I sat down at the table and poured some orange juice into a glass. Memories from my childhood rushed back into my mind once more.

  The man turned off the stove and lifted the pan.

  "You almost made me burn the bacon. I feed people to the dogs when they make me burn the bacon." He smiled. Was it a joke? "Nobody makes me burn," he paused and glowered, "the bacon."

  We both laughed. He reminded me of my dad telling corny jokes to make me feel better. I'd always faked a laugh to appease him. Still, it was comforting and I didn't feel like an outcast.

  I ate and ate, barely taking time to breathe while the man sipped his coffee. I hadn't realized how hungry I was, and the flavor of the bacon was so intense I couldn't shovel it into my mouth fast enough.

  I looked up and as usual he was smiling. I paused, a piece of the bacon suspended from my lip.

  "It's okay. Eat. Eat," he said.

  "What's your name?" I asked.

  "Zak."

  "Thank you, Zak, so much. For everything."

  "You're welcome." The steam rose from his coffee.

  We chatted all morning. It was mostly about me. Zak listened intently. I told him everything, from my time in Bathory to escaping the truck.

  When silence finally fell and I had told every part of my sordid tale, my thoughts turned back to Zak.