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“We are,” I said. “What number are we talking about here?”
“It’s not a number I can make,” Oscar said. When he looked at me, his eyes were guarded, his face filled with an expression I couldn’t decipher. “I’m sorry.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said. “We just have to?—”
“She’ll do fine,” the man interrupted me.
The other three nodded, wicked grins on their faces. They looked me up and down, eyes roaming my body.
I suddenly realized how exposed I was, wearing the oversized T-shirt I usually slept in and the robe I’d pulled on. I pulled the robe tighter around my shoulders.
“Come on,” one man said. “Let’s get out of here.”
He walked to me, and I stepped back. He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me toward the door.
“Unhand me!” I shouted, trying to wrestle free. “Oscar!”
I twisted around, looking over my shoulder to see if Oscar was okay, if they were attacking him, too. If we fought together, we could get out…
Oscar wasn’t fighting. He stood to the side, looking dejected. He pursed his lips, his thick dark hair a mess like he’d been pushing his hands into it.
“Oscar!” I shouted again when they dragged me toward the door. “Oscar?!”
“Are we square?” Oscar asked, turning to the man.
“What?!” I cried out. “Oscar! What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at me.
“We are,” the man said. “Feel free to join us again. If this is how you pay, we’re more than happy to do business again.” He grinned a row of yellowed teeth at me, his smile dripping menace.
I fought back, kicking, screaming, clawing, biting.
“Bitch!” my assailant groaned when I elbowed him in the stomach. I almost got away, but another wrapped his arms around me, pinning my arms to my side. I was small and thin, no match for a big, burly POS like the guy who lifted me off the ground with ease. I kicked my legs in the air.
“Oscar!” I shouted again.
“Shut her up,” one man said. Tape covered my mouth a moment later. A bag over my head followed, and I was plunged into darkness.
With my sight taken from me, I strained my ears. I mumbled against the tape over my mouth, screaming for Oscar to help me, to stop them, to help me get free.
“What will you do with her?” Oscar asked, finally showing a sign that he cared at all.
Too little, too late.
“That’s none of your business,” the answer came before I was wrestled out of the house and into the cold night.
Adrenaline pumped through my body, and I fought as hard as I could. Someone hit me over the head when I wouldn’t stop fighting. My head spun, disorienting me.
I heard the sound of a car door opening.
I tried to run, to get away. I stumbled and fell, got up, tried again. My head throbbed wildly, but all I could think was that I had to escape.
“Stop her!” someone shouted, and thick arms grabbed me again. I tried to fight yet again, but another blow against the head made my body go limp, pain coursing down my neck and shoulders. My head spun.
A final blow brought complete darkness.
Now conscious again, I ruminated over what happened. Oscar had sold me to pay off his debts. The knowledge was an acrid taste in my mouth. Tears rolled over my cheeks, and I sniffed. I held back the sobs, refusing to cry.
