In Chains

by Michelle Abbott

  I try to stretch my aching muscles. My arms are chained high above my head and I can’t move them much. I can feel the cuffs digging into my wrists. I look down at my feet. My ankles are spread apart and shackled to the cement floor.

  I wonder what Savannah's doing. Is she thinking about me? She made me feel so good. I miss her. I never get to keep the people I love. She’ll be okay though. Her ex can’t hurt her anymore and her brother will look after her. I’m tired. Can I sleep standing up? I rest my head against my arm and close my eyes.

  My baby’s here. She must have rescued me and taken me home. We’re in her warm, soft bed, wrapped up together in her duvet. I grin at her and kiss every inch of her beautiful face. She’s holding me tight and telling me over and over again how much she loves me. I’m so happy. What’s that tickling my face? I open my eyes to find my baby lying on top of me. We’re out in the field and she’s stroking a yellow flower across my face. She’s silly sometimes. I spin her around so that I’m lying on top of her but I’m careful not to crush her, I don’t want to hurt my baby. She’s laughing as I bury my head in her neck, she smells lemony. She’s pulling away from me. I look up. We’re in my caravan. She’s frowning at me, what have I done wrong? She’s moving farther away. I try to reach out for her but my arms won’t work. Why won’t my arms move? Ouch! She’s throwing handfuls of sharp little stones at me. Stop it! They’re hitting me in the face and they hurt. I try to cover my face but my arms still won’t move.

  My eyes snap open. Hailstones! Oh c’mon, give me a break. I try to protect my face with my arm but I can only cover half of it. They sting as they strike my cheek and arms. I must have been asleep for a while, it’s dark again now. The wind has picked up; I can hear the trees rustling and an owl hooting.

  I’m cold; I can’t stop my body shivering. My mouth is dry and gritty and my throat feels raw. I let my head hang down; I’m too tired to lift it up. How long does it take to die of thirst? I think it only takes a day or something like that. If I’m lucky I might die soon. I won’t miss my shitty life. Death can’t be any worse. I just want it to be over now. At least no one will be able to hurt me anymore. I don’t wanna hurt anymore. What happens when you die? Does everything just go black? Guess I’ll find out, hopefully soon. I’m gonna miss Savannah. I love her so much. I’ll never get to see her again. I hope she’ll be happy. My shoulders and my legs ache. I want to be able to lie down and go to sleep. I’m tired.

  Slowly I open my eyes. I can feel bodies around me. It’s too dark to see. I’m falling. Ow! My body hits the concrete. I can feel hands grabbing me, lifting me up. They’re dragging me along. Do they think I’m dead? Am I dead? They must be taking my body to the furnace. It’ll all be over soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Savannah

  It’s late evening and we’re all seated around the kitchen table. I feel refreshed after my sleep and I’m eager to get things sorted. “Did you get the slave released?” I hope this man is as much of an expert as my lawyer claims.

  “I telephoned the Compound this morning. The police faxed them a copy of your confession. I was assured he’ll be released from the prison today.”

  My muscles finally relax. “When can my brother collect him and bring him back here?”

  “Ah,” the lawyer frowns, “I guess you weren’t informed.”

  My muscles tense again. I stare at him. “What wasn’t I informed of?”

  “The minute he was arrested for a crime he became the property of the government. Your brother had to sign away his rights to him.” He clears his throat before continuing, “You see, they can’t have slaves causing havoc. If they think the owner isn’t in control, they have the right to repossess the slave. Which they’ve done in this case.”

  I look across at Simon. “So you don’t own him anymore?” He shakes his head and I turn back to the lawyer, “So he’s for sale? Can I buy him?” My spirits soar. There has to be some way I can get a loan, or maybe the government will let me make payments.

  The lawyer clears his throat again. “He will eventually be put up for sale. However, because he was accused of a crime he has to undergo a year’s retraining before that can happen.”

  My head is spinning. “But he’s been cleared of any crime, so he doesn’t need retraining, does he?”

  The lawyer shakes his head. “That’s not how it works I’m afraid. Being accused of a crime is enough to warrant retraining, but he’ll live and that was your main concern as I understood it.”

  I don’t think this particular lawyer can be of any more help but I’m glad that Kayden will at least live. An idea is beginning to form in my mind and I need to talk to my criminal lawyer in private. I hope what I have in mind is possible, it has to be. I keep my fingers crossed as I ask to speak to him alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Savannah

  The van is parked around the back of the court. Simon and my lawyer are standing there as I come out. Simon looks as if he’s about to cry. I call out to him, “I love you. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you next year.”

  It isn’t easy climbing into the back of the van with my wrists cuffed together but I manage. I sit by the little window so I can look out as the van pulls away. I’ll miss my brother but a year isn’t so long. My lawyer was right, the judge was lenient. It’s been a long month waiting to go to court but it gave my lawyer plenty of time to do some research. There was an archaic law. No one has requested it before, understandably, but as it is my legal right the judge wasn’t in a position to refuse.

  A short time later the van comes to a stop at a security gate. I look out of the window at the place that will be my home for the next year. It’s a large, one-story, grey building surrounded by razor wire. The van pulls off again and backs up to the building’s entrance. The doors to the van are opened and I climb out. The guards accompany me through a heavy metal door that that slams shut behind me. They remove my cuffs and I have to walk through a metal detector.

  I’m taken to the reception desk to be booked in. The man behind the desk looks at me oddly. “She’s not a slave,” he says to the guard standing beside me. “She’s human, why have they sent her here?”

  The guard hands the man my paperwork. “I’ve no idea. I was just told to pick her up from the court.”

  The man frowns at him. “What am I supposed to do with her?” He shakes his head as he flips through my paperwork and keys the information into his computer. “What skills do you have?” he barks at me.

  “Erm…I’m okay with computers and writing.”

  He frowns. “That’s not going to be any use in here. Have you done any farm work? Laundry? Sewing? Cleaning? Cooking?”

  “I know how to clean and cook.”

  “Start her off in the kitchen and on cleaning duties,” he says to the guard. “Next week try her on laundry. See what she’s best at.”

  He tells me I can keep the clothes I’m wearing but no other possessions. I expected that and left all my possessions at home. I trust Simon to take care of my things. “Give me your right hand,” he orders. I hold out my hand and he slaps a metal cuff around my wrist and snaps it shut. There’s a number engraved on it along with a barcode strip. “That’s your number. That’s what you’ll be known as in here. Anyone calls out that number, they’re calling for you.”

  I’m led through another heavy door that slams shut behind me and I’m now standing in a long grey hallway. As I’m lead along I pass two large rooms, one either side, neither of them have doors. They look stark. Grey cement floors and ceilings. There are a few mattresses and blankets on the floor but no people. I’m handed to another guard. A woman. She looks me up and down. “Whose she?” she asks the guard who brought me in.

  “A prisoner. She’s serving her sentence here.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Beats me,” he replies.

  “What am I supposed to do with her?”

  “Start her in the kitchen and on cleaning this week. Laundry nex
t week,” he says, before turning to leave.

  The woman sighs and shakes her head. “The slaves here have been trained since they were children. Don’t expect us to make allowances for you. Have you got a good memory?”

  “Erm…reasonably good.”

  “Rules. Remember them. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Keep your head bowed when talking to us, don’t look us in the eye. When you’re given an order, obey it. Don’t touch us. When we speak to you, reply with ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘yes sir’. Break the rules, you’ll be punished.” Okay, I should be able to remember those. I need to find Kayden. He must still be alive, he has to be. “I said, when we speak to you, reply with ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘yes sir’.”

  “Oh…sorry. Yes ma’am.”

  She sighs and shakes her head again. “You’ll be fed three times a day. You can shower once a week. Mattresses and blankets are privileges; you’ll have to earn them.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “The two rooms you just passed, they’re your sleeping quarters. Follow me.” She leads me down the hallway and points to a room on my left. There’s another thick metal door with a glass window. “The shower room,” she tells me. She points to a panel next to the door. “Put the barcode on your cuff against this panel. If you’re due a shower the door will open. If you’ve already had a shower that week, it won’t.” I glance through the window. I can only see two showers and there are no curtains. I won’t get any privacy when I shower.

  At the end of the hallway there’s another metal door. The guard punches in a code, opens the door and we’re now outside in a small courtyard. There are two grey single storey buildings. She leads me towards the larger building and once again punches in a code. We enter into a big room full of people, slaves, using sewing machines. I scan the room looking for Kayden but he isn’t here. A guard sits with his feet up, reading a newspaper at a desk, at the far side of the room is another door.

  She punches in the code and we enter into a small kitchen. “You’ll be working in here,” she says, “preparing meals.” I glance around. There’s only one slave here, a girl, she’s mixing up something in a bowl and doesn’t look up as we walk in. There’s a sink, cooker and a grill. There’s another door on the far side of the room, already open this time. We walk through. This room has wooden tables and benches lined up in rows. It’s currently empty. “This is where you eat,” she tells me. She leads me back into the kitchen. “Show her the ropes, she’ll be working with you,” she tells the slave girl. She leaves and the door slams shut after her. I don’t like that I’m locked in but I guess I would have had the same thing had I gone to a prison. I’ll have to get used to it.

  The girl looks a lot younger than me, about sixteen I’m guessing. She has long, straight, black hair that looks like it hasn’t been washed in a while. She’s dressed in a long black skirt and a t-shirt that looks too big for her thin frame. “Hi, my name’s Savannah.”

  She turns to look at me, then immediately drops her gaze to the floor. “Slave F564GH Miss.”

  I reach out and grasp her hand. “Don’t call me Miss and you can look at me, I’m a slave too.”

  She looks up at me from under her lashes. “But you’re human.”

  “So are you.” I smile at her. “Treat me like you would any other slave. What’s your name?”

  “I call myself Amy Miss.”

  I let the ‘Miss’ go for now. “I’m looking for someone. A slave named Kayden. Do you know him?” My heart sinks as she shakes her head. He has to be alive. The lawyer told me they’d release him from the prison. Could he have been sent to another pound? “Is there a prison here?”

  “Yes Miss.”

  “Is there anyone in it?”

  “No Miss.” She places some dough on an oven tray.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “You can wash up if you want to Miss.” There’s a pile of tin bowls and spoons and a large stockpot. Looking at the amount of bowls there must be more slaves here than the ones I’ve seen so far. I run the hot water and begin washing up.

  “Amy, there’s a lot of bowls here. Are there more slaves than the ones doing the sewing?”

  She puts her dough into the oven. “Yes Miss. There are slaves working in the fields and in the laundry.” I’m filled with hope again. He may be working in one of those places.

  She opens a sack of potatoes and begins peeling them. I help her make dinner. She calls it potato soup but it’s just potatoes boiled in lots of water and mashed up. She’s adding salt but I’m betting it’ll still taste bland. The fresh baked bread should be nice though. I slice the bread while she ladles the soup into the bowls. “Is there any butter to go with the bread,” I ask. She shakes her head.

  I hear the door opening and the slaves from the sewing room troop through to the dining area. As that door slams I hear another one open, that should be the slaves coming in from the fields and laundry. My heart races, I’ll get to see Kayden in a few minutes. She gets out a couple of large trays and places some of the bowls on them, along with some bread.

  I carry my tray through to the dining room. There must be about fifty slaves in here. They turn and stare at me as I walk in. I guess it’s going to take me a while to fit in. There’s no real difference apart from hair and eye colour but I guess they don’t see me as one of them. I scan the faces, looking for Kayden’s. He’s not here. I scan the faces again. Amy nudges me. “Put your tray on the table Miss.” I do as she says, then I run back into the kitchen.

  I sink to the floor, rest my head on my arms and sob. This was all for nothing. They killed him anyway. I came here for nothing. I feel Amy sit on the floor beside me. “You’ll get used to it Miss.”

  I’m still sitting on the floor as the slaves come back through the kitchen. I wipe my eyes and get up. It looks like all fifty of them are going into the sewing room. Amy must have seen my puzzled look. “They’re going into the sleeping quarters Miss.” I only saw two rooms for sleeping. That means I’m going to have to sleep in a room with at least twenty-five other people. I would have been better off in a prison, at least I might have got a cell to myself. I only came here to be with Kayden. Now I’m stuck here and he’s dead. Amy puts her arm around me. “Let’s go and eat Miss. It might make you feel better.”

  She picks up a tray and I notice there are six bowls on it. “Do we get extra food because we cooked it?” I ask, nodding my head towards the bowls.

  “No Miss.” She shakes her head. “Four of them are for the slaves who work in the laundry.” Wait! What! There are more slaves. My heart is thudding. Please, oh please let one of them be Kayden. My palms are sweaty. I’m scared to hope.

  I follow Amy to the dining room. She puts the tray down and moves some of the dirty bowls out of the way. I can’t eat yet. My eyes are glued to the door. It opens and I hold my breath, my fingers are digging into my palms. Two guys walk in. Neither of them are Kayden. They sit down and start eating. Amy has finished her soup, she collects the dirty bowls. I know I should help her but I can’t tear my eyes away from the door. It opens again. Kayden. It’s Kayden. I leap up from the bench and run towards him. I collide with him, knocking him backwards as I fling my arms around his waist. “Oh Kayden. I love you. I love you. I’m so glad you’re not dead.” I squeeze him tight. I can feel his heart beating.

  “Savannah. How did you get in here?”

  I raise my head from his chest and look up at him. He’s looking at me, shock all over his face. “I told them I killed Dan. I couldn’t let them kill you. I came here instead of prison. I’m here for a year, same as you.” I kiss him on the lips. “I’ve missed you.” He’s not moving and he doesn’t look happy. Isn’t he pleased to see me?

  “Are you insane? How come they let you do that? You’re not a slave.” He’s frowning at me.

  “I had a good lawyer. He found an old law back from when the prisons were over-crowded. They used to let people choose between a pound or a prison. If they chose a pound they got a
shorter sentence. They don’t use that law anymore but they haven’t removed it. I was able to use it.”

  “Why? Why did you do that?”

  My heart sinks. He doesn’t want me anymore. “Because I love you and I wanted to be with you.” I blink back my tears. I won’t cry in front of him. I let go of him and turn away. “But you don’t want me anymore. You’ve probably found someone else. That’s okay, I’m glad you’re alive.”

  He grabs my arm and yanks me back towards him so hard I almost fall over. He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him. “Of course I want you. I love you. I just don’t want you to be here. How can I look after you here? How can I keep you safe? You’re not used to living like this.”

  I smile up at him. “I’ll tell you the same thing you kept telling me. It’ll be okay.”

  Other books by the author:

  Locked Together (In Chains #2)

  About the Author

  Michelle Abbott lives in the UK. She loves to write about heroes who begin as the underdog and are protective of their girl and she likes to read all genres of romance. When she's not reading or writing she enjoys travelling and seeing new places and occasionally she picks up her knitting needles and attempts to finish the sweater she started two years ago. Michelle Abbott lives in the UK. She loves to write about heroes who begin as the underdog and are protective of their girl and she likes to read all genres of romance. When she’s not reading or writing she enjoys travelling and seeing new places and occasionally she picks up her knitting needles and attempts to finish the sweater she started two years ago. She loves hearing from her readers and can be found online at:

  Website- http://www.michelleabbott.com/

  Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/michelleabbott

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MichelleAbbottRomanceAuthor

  Twitter- https://twitter.com/MichelleAbbott4