Shattered (Shattered Duet Book 1)

by Bry Ann

  “Put these on.”

  I’m snapped out of my trance when piles of fabric land in my lap. Not to mention, I’m slowly starting to feel the effects of the drugs they gave me kick in. My pain is fading and a small sense of euphoria is clouding my senses. It’s glorious.

  “Put this on.”

  I nod, wordless and numb. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Where am I going?

  “Where do I change?”

  Tammy starts laughing. “Oh, you think you have a dressing room? You’re funny. I may like you.”

  With a snicker, she starts cleaning up her mess. Frozen, slowly coming to terms with my reality, I try to change as modestly as possible. Even with the drugs, it still hurts immensely to change. Bending over is nearly excruciating.

  “Oh shit, he really did a number on you.”

  Through the euphoric mind fog, I look over at her.

  “It hurts,” I whisper.

  She sighs heavily again. “You can’t wear what I gave you. Even with makeup, you’ll look like shit.”

  Why, thank you. Bitch.

  She snatches the clothes out of my hand, not caring that I’ve been working to maintain modesty. I don’t know why I’m bothering. I’ve already been raped, several times.

  The thought brings uninhibited tears to my eyes.

  “God, you’re not supposed to react like this being high. You’re either not high enough or literally the most whiny druggie in the history of the world.”

  “I’m not a druggie.” I glare at her.

  “Ooh, finally something other than a complaint. Thank fuck. Put this on instead. We’re almost out of time before Z gets here, and you have to be ready.”

  The ominous, terrified tone of her voice, combined with my naked state, has me scrambling to throw on whatever it is she threw at me. I hate it immediately. It feels disgusting. I’m wearing a light cotton skirt that barely covers my ass with a see-through, black-green mesh, long sleeve top (black-green, how cliché… my hair).

  I look trashy, but I got one good thing out of this. Tammy, seemingly heartless and bitchy Tammy, protected me with this outfit. The light cotton and mesh feel gentle against my bruised skin. The mesh covers the majority of my bruises since Sty’s beating was upper body focused.

  Sty. I can’t even think his name without crumbling inside. The pain is numbed by the drugs this time, but it’s odd because I feel less pain but more of a desire to start wailing in the middle of the room. It’s unlike me to be so loud.

  The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoes down the hall. For the first time, real fear spreads across Tammy’s face. Her wide eyes turn to me. It’s then that I realize, yeah, I may be way younger than the other two, but Tammy can’t be over 21. She’s still extremely young.

  “Just… just do what they say. I know it seems worth it to fight, but it’s not. I swear. Just take it.”

  Take what? She’s speaking so fast I can barely hear her. I’m sore from the beatings and the rape. My mind is spinning from the drugs. And now something is about to happen to me. Tammy, the tough one, is scared and talking in riddles.

  “She better be ready.”

  Tammy straightens, but averts her eyes to look meek and submissive. I know she’s not. Judging by the way asshole #3 is eyeing her, he knows it, too.

  “She is.”

  “Get over here, 262.”

  Why do they get names and I don’t? I hate the damn number. Tammy’s glare has me scattering his way immediately. When I’m within arm’s reach, he grabs my upper arm, making me cry out in pain. He looks my way and smirks knowingly.

  “I’ll be back for you,” he tells Tammy over my shoulder. “Be ready.”

  I see a retort on the tip of her tongue, but she just nods meekly.

  “Come on. Get.”

  Asshole #3 kicks me in the shin, making me stumble forward. It’s all unceremonious from here. I’m ushered into a car. I zone out completely, and that sensation of mind leaving body once again takes over.

  I don’t come to until I’m standing outside a musty hotel room with a gun to my head, being told to go inside….

  Or else.

  Chapter Six

  I have to go inside. He’d really shoot me, but worse, would he really go after Amy? My father’s untouchable, but is my mother? She’s independent and my father’s not the most protective man.

  Obviously.

  “Open it,” he hisses.

  I’m gonna choke and die. I’ve already been raped, but somehow that felt different. I was chained. I was numb and in shock. Sty was always there and as sick and disgusting as it is, that brought me some fucked up sense of safety. This? This I’m walking right into. This is having sex in exchange for money. Not just rape. This makes me a whore.

  Oh God. I start to hyperventilate. I back myself into the gun. The cold of the barrel sends me flying forward again.

  “You have three seconds. 1, 2…”

  He leans over my trembling shoulders and opens the door.

  “3.” He shoves me inside and grabs the doorknob. “Come out and I shoot you, and then kill everyone you love.”

  With that, he slams the door shut. My teeth are clanging together hard. The drugs course through me, trying to mask the terror, but fail. I’m so scared, I nearly cry, but can’t.

  “Nice to see you again.”

  I freeze. Literally, my hands go to my sides, my eyes go wide, and I go still as a rod. I know that voice. I know that voice!

  “No,” I whisper. “Pl-pl-please don’t hurt me.”

  “I’m not gonna hurt you. Try to relax.”

  No. I purse my lips and glare at the man. Asshole #4. Nix. Shaggy-haired bracelet boy. Man. He’s definitely a man. A man with more muscle. More height. More everything.

  “Okay,” he smiles a little, amused, “you’re not gonna relax. Got it. Message received.”

  Good! But also… I’m impressed, and terrified, that he was able to read my nonverbal cues so easily.

  I back myself into the door.

  “Please don’t,” I whimper.

  His eyes go soft for a moment before hardening again.

  “I’m just here to talk.”

  “Aren’t they all,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

  His eyes dance as they roam over me. “Are you always this outspoken?”

  I bite my lip and look away.

  “Oh, you’re not talking to me now?”

  He waits for an answer from me. When he gets nothing, he nods, jaw tightening.

  “I’m here for information.”

  THUMP. THUMP. Is he gonna hurt me for it?

  “Why are you here?” he asks me frankly.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Was the question in any way unclear?”

  All the humor dies from his face. His eyes are fire, his muscles tight.

  “Are you here willingly?”

  “What?” I gasp, furious. On purpose! Is he fucking kidding me? Still plastered against the door, I verbally explode.

  “Fuck you! You know that.” Tears burst out of my eyes. “Fuck. You. Of course, I’m not here on purpose. You think any woman you buy for the night wants that?”

  His jaw goes inexplicably tight.

  “How did you come to be here? Are there others? If so, how many? What the fuck is going on here?” He pauses, catching his breath. “And what the fuck are they doing to you, princess?”

  He takes a step forward. Between the tone of his voice, the demanding questions, and the abruptness of it all, it sends my brain somewhere that had never existed before all this.

  I fall to the floor and wrap my arms around my legs, trembling profusely. I can’t handle another beating. Please. Please. Please. Not another one. There aren’t enough drugs in me for this. They didn’t give me enough drugs.

  “Aw fuck,” I hear him mutter. Then the unmistakable presence of a warm body next to me. It’s unwanted! After the rapes and the beatings, the lack of food and water, and the drugs, I’m internally combus
ting.

  “It’s alright, okay? All I want from you are words, nothing else.”

  I shake my head in between my legs. When his hand goes to my back, I flinch so hard I topple over.

  “Okay.” Nix raises his arms in a surrender motion. I’m looking at him through my hands, laying curled up on the floor. “Let’s lighten it up. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  FOOD! YES!

  He must see my excitement, because he pinches the bridge of his nose enough to hurt.

  “I’m guessing they don’t feed you, huh, babe?”

  I push into a sitting position, still wrapped up, but head up. I shake my head right and left. He stands back up and goes to his bag.

  “You know, I like the pissed off you better.”

  “There’s a way to get her back.” I immediately roll over my knees to all fours. I crawl forward, eyes desperate. “Please get me out of here. You can save me. We can fight asshole #3 out there and—”

  “Babe…” His eyes reflect years of pain before he schools the expression. “I can’t.”

  I shut down. He’s no different. Just ‘cause he’s not outright raping me, he’s now an accomplice. He knows and isn’t doing anything.

  “And I suppose you won’t tell the police?” I state in a distant voice.

  “You know the answer to that. Here, eat.”

  He shoves a pack of beef jerky into my hand. If I weren’t so hungry, I’d shove it back into his stupid, handsome face. As it is…

  I tear into the package and stuff as many as I can into my mouth. I see him watching me, lip twitching, so I jerk the package into my chest and wrap my arms around it, hiding it from his eyes. His lip twitching spreads up his cheek.

  He doesn’t fucking deserve to smile!

  “You high, babe?”

  I glare at him so hard it feels like my eyes are sore.

  I slide backward so I’m leaning against the wall, knees tucked up, not taking my eyes off him.

  He stands. “I’d offer you a chair or a bed, but uh…” He swipes a hand through his hair. “I’m thinking…”

  “Have you been in the bed?”

  His uneasy expression transforms into one of… pride? Like he’s proud of me? I shake my head. No, stop, Sage.

  “No, babe. I just got in the room.”

  “I’m taking the bed. You can’t go in it.”

  He fake salutes me. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He’s not gonna hurt me? Really? I’m really just taking the bed as a “fuck you”. He could honestly hurt me at any moment.

  Not taking my eyes off him, I climb up onto the bed, quickly wrapping the comforter around my throbbing body. I bring the beef jerky onto my lap and stuff another piece into my empty stomach. As I’m doing so, wrapped in warmth and momentarily fed, I think of the other two girls. What they are going through. How they each helped me in their own way. Not knowing if this is going to work, I stuff some of the piece of jerky in my bra. Gross, but if they are as hungry as I am, they will be totally fine with it. I don’t know if it will even work, but I need it to. I have to return their kindness.

  “Babe,” Nix laughs. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I stop mid-stuffing of a piece of jerky into my bra.

  “Not that you care, but there are two other girls locked up with me. I have to help them. Again, something you wouldn’t understand.”

  His lips form a line, making me shiver, wondering if this is when he breaks and hurts or rapes me.

  “I don’t have the luxury of acting on my whims.”

  There’s something cold in his eyes as he says that.

  “Whims? You call allowing women to be beaten and raped a whim you can’t indulge in?”

  “Have you been beaten, doll?”

  UGH! He’s maddening! He doesn't get it. Fuck it. Years of rage come boiling up. I grab the edge of my shirt and jerk it over my head, revealing all of my bruises.

  “Have I? Oh yes.”

  I laugh bitterly. What the fuck did those ladies give me? I’m out of control. Or maybe I really am this crazy. I don’t know. “Yes, I was beaten by my ex-boyfriend, who wasn’t really my boyfriend, ‘cause he had me kidnapped off the street.”

  I push off the bed, only in my tiny bra with beef jerky sticking out of it and my cotton skirt. Okay, bad idea. I timidly grab my shirt and slip it back over my head.

  “Shit. I’m so sorry. What’s your name, doll?”

  “262. I told you.”

  His expression goes flat. “Your real name.”

  “Ugh,” I scoff. “You earn that by freeing me.”

  “Fair,” he agrees. I stare at the door.

  “How long do I have to be here?”

  He winces. “It’s gonna sound bad, but my intentions aren’t malicious, I swear. Overnight.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course.”

  “Might as well get comfortable.”

  “Why won’t you save me?” I whimper.

  Whatever drugs they gave me I think are wearing out. I feel like I’m crashing. I’m sore. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m not angry.

  He groans. “I want to. I will. I just… need time. I need you to give me as much information as you can.”

  “It’ll be too late.”

  I crumble to the ground. Nix rushes over, looking slightly at a loss.

  “I knew they fucking drugged you.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  I’m shaking so hard. I hate drugs. I feel clammy, tired, and gross.

  “Why won’t you he-help? You’re not a bad person. I can t-tell.”

  “You don’t know me,” he says immediately and coldly. He shakes his head, noticing me retreat. “Let’s get you taken care of and not talk about me. You don’t know me. You’re in the lion's den, and you have no idea.”

  Well, when you’ve been locked up with demons for days, lions don’t seem so bad.

  “I feel awful.”

  “I’d imagine. What the fuck did they give you?”

  “I don’t know. Needles, and then, I was so hurt and the girls, they… had me sniff something.”

  “Motherfucking goddamnit,” he mutters. “Alright, let’s get you tucked up in bed. I’m lifting you up, so do what you have to in your mind to accept that.”

  Fear has me listening. It sure as hell ain’t trust or respect. All I do is groan. I don’t move, and neither does he. For all his talk about him lifting me up and leaving me no say in it, he’s not moving towards me.

  “For real, do you want my help or…?” He trails off, feeling clearly uncomfortable.

  “Nope.”

  I crawl back toward the bed. He jumps from the bed immediately when I do, earning a tiny, smidge, itty bitty teeny bit of my nonexistent trust.

  “I’d offer you more food, but…”

  “You have more food! Oh, please… Please, I’m begging you. When I get out, I’ll pay you back.”

  “I’m not worried about the money, princess.”

  “Then…?” I grip the comforter tighter.

  “You’re gonna make yourself sick. I don’t know how long it’s been since you were fed or what your body’s endured.”

  “How about you let me worry about my body and you worry about the food?”

  “Which, by proxy, is me worrying about your growling stomach.”

  “Yes, worry about that.”

  He does a double take before shaking his head and chuckling.

  “Alright, princess, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “You know what,” I snap as he hands me another bag of beef jerky. Geez, is this all he has? “If I do vomit, the least you can do is hold my hair back.”

  His face goes solemn. “I’ll hold your hair back if you need it,” he whispers.

  Damn right, he will. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now. I should be cowering more or… I don’t know. How am I supposed to be acting after all that’s happened? I feel simultaneously furious, terrified, and momentarily free to say or do wha
t I want. Don’t judge me. If you’ve been kidnapped, raped, beaten, then you can tell me how one should act around the first person to give you a little bit of comfort. I’m not spreading my legs for him!

  “Uh… nameless woman in my bed?”

  I almost laugh, but instead my head snaps up, sending spirals of stars into my vision and a moan escaping my lips as my body throbs.

  “Yep.”

  “You’re muttering to yourself.”

  “Oh…” I frown.

  “Do you like the beef jerky?”

  I make a face. “It’s food.”

  “Oh,” he laughs, “you hate it.”

  “Well, um,” I fidget with edge of the comforter. “I’m actually vegan back home.”

  Home.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s fine. I… I can’t be picky.” If I want to live.

  He seems to understand the unspoken words because he nods. We don’t talk for a while as I half-eat, half-try to stuff beef jerky into my clothes. He just starts unpacking, giving me space or ignoring me. Who knows?

  I just sit in the bed, eating, trying to hold back tears. I’m more than halfway through the bag when, much to my horror, my stomach starts to churn uncomfortably.

  “I need a bathroom!” I blurt out, jumping from the bed.

  “Good God. Are all women as stubborn as you?”

  Despite his whining, he comes over, hurries to the toilet, and holds my hair back while I puke my guts out. I hate it. I hate vomiting. It makes me emotional. And this time is no exception, especially once every ounce of precious food is expelled from my system.

  “It’s alright. It’s okay,” Nix keeps muttering, seemingly unsure of what else to say or do as I puke violently into his motel toilet.

  It’s not okay.

  I collapse back, shaking profusely and weak as I’ve ever been.

  “Is it all out?”

  I give something that is supposed to be a glare, but in real life just ends up being pathetic.

  “What else is there to… puke?” I croak.

  “True,” he mutters. “I just unpacked some mouthwash. I’m helping you up so you can clean your mouth, yeah?”

  I just nod, feeling spent.

  “Okay, doll. It’s okay.”