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What would Priscilla want more than the sordid amount she sold Ella for?
But my mind circled back to the same dead end every time. Priscilla Trevaine didn't relinquish control, not for love, not for money—certainly not for the likes of me.
I slammed my fist against the wall again, welcoming the bloom of crimson that sprung from my skin. This wasn't a world where men like me got to keep the sun; we lived in the shadows, thrived in the darkness.
Six: Ella
The stench of stale sweat and feces wafted around the cell, infused intothe cramped space where I huddled close to Belle. She was warmth in this godforsaken icebox.
"Can't stay here," she whispered, "gotta find a way out."
"How?" I rasped. "They've got eyes everywhere, and Chris..." His name was a curse, a whisper of darkness that made my skin crawl and heart race for reasons I couldn't fathom.
Her fingers entwined with mine. "We're smarter than them. We'll watch, wait... strike when they least expect it."
I squeezed back, trying to absorb some of her strength. But my fears compounded. "What if we're stuck here forever?" The words tumbled out, raw and ragged. "What about life outside these walls, dreams, family..."
"Shh." Her thumb brushed my knuckle, a balm to the panic rising like bile. "Don't let them take what's yours, Ella. Hold on to it, fight for it."
Fight. The word echoed in my head, bouncing off the corners of my skull. Could I? Would I? It felt like the longer I stayed here, the less I had the will to try get out. How long had it been now? Days? A week? A month?
Our moment shattered as the door's lock clicked. Chris. Towering and gorgeous as sin, he filled the doorway, his entrance snuffing out the dim light from the hall. His bandana was securely tied around his face once again. Is it awful that I wanted to see the lips hidden beneath? My God, what was wrong with me? This man kidnapped us, well, me at least.
The door creaked open, a sliver of Priscilla’s silhouette slicing through the dimness. "Time to split up, lovelies," her voice was clipped. “Market day is coming, and we need you both looking your best. You, Ella, have a very special buyer and you need to undergo the proper training. Such an exciting day, isn't it girls?”
Belle's hand squeezed mine, squashing my fingers together. Our eyes met. I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of reality stinging my tongue. "You can’t sell us," I spat, the words acid against my lips.
Priscilla's laugh, brittle as glass, shattered the air. "Watch me." She glided closer. "Ella, to your new quarters. Chris will escort you."
"Time to move," he growled, the command brooking no argument. Belle moved to stand, and he chuckled. "Not you. Just her. Someone else is coming for you, princess."
My heart hiccupped, then pounded, a frantic beat against my ribs as I stood, legs quivering. Belle's hand slipped away, and suddenly the cold was all-consuming, seeping into my bones.
"Walk," Chris ordered, his voice a guttural rumble.
Each step was a battle, feet heavy laden, my mind reeled with the need to run, to flee. But there was nowhere to go, no escape. Just cement walls and a guardian as sinister as the devil himself.
"Move it, little ember."
My feet refused to obey, suddenly rooted to the spot. He advanced, boots thumping on the concrete floor. Each step echoed in my skull.
"Didn’t hear me?" His hand clamped around my arm.
"Let go!" I jerked away, but I might as well have been a ragdoll for all the good it did. His fingers didn’t so much as tremble.
"Easy there," he drawled, hauling me to the door. "Wouldn't want to bruise the goods."
Goods. That's all I was to them. A product to be bartered, broken, sold. Rage bubbled up, hot and fierce, but I choked it down. I had to be smart. Had to survive.
Through dirty, damp halls we went, my heart hammering a frenetic beat. With each step, Chris’s scent filled my senses, stirring confusion and unwanted attraction.
"Almost there," he muttered, more to himself than to me.
"Fuck you," I hissed under my breath.
He pushed open another door, throwing me into the barren room beyond.
"Get comfortable," Chris said, the mockery in his tone scraping across my nerves.
