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I close my eyes, the scald of tears burning my eyes, and take a breath.
When you’ve been told so many times you’re not enough—that you were a mistake, unwanted, and unloved—those words engrave themselves into your flesh, digging into the bone and muscle until your sense of self-worth crumbles and you can’t even remember what it feels like to love yourself.
That has been me for so long. Despite knowing Dad, my grandparents, Uncle Henry—Graham loved me, her words were the ones I believed. They are the words that echoed in my mind every second of every day. They crushed my spirit until I was agirl going through the motions of life while the fear and worry that I was a burden to all around me kept me paralyzed on the inside.
But as the toxicity continues to spill from her mouth, something profound happens. I don’t cry because her words feel true. Instead, my tears fall for the little girl who never had a mother’s love even when she was doing everything she could to get it. For the child who was cut to the bone so badly she tried to take her own life. That believed the people in her life would be happier without her.
For the first time in my life, I don’t believe her lies. The words still hurt more than I could ever explain, but they hurt for different reasons. Because even though I didn’t haveherunconditional love and acceptance, I was still loved. Iamloved.
I have my dad, who did everything he could to make sure I was happy.
I have Uncle Henry who did the same.
I have my friends that don’t let me hide in my shell. Who share my laughter and tears.
I have Maxwell and Jagger who accepted me as theirs.
And I have Graham. The boy who protected me, sheltered me, and made me feel wanted as a child. The man who will fight with me and beside me. Who won’t allow me to believe I am anything but cherished and wanted. The man who made me his.
What a freaking wonderful time for an epiphany, right? When I’m tied to the seat of an airplane that could take off at any second, and no one knows where I am? When I might not have a chance to put this newfound awareness to use. Jesus, Casey, you seriously need your head examined.
But this is where I am, and as my tears stop—what’s up with that, by the way—the coldness in my mother’s eyes turns toanger, realizing her words no longer inflict pain and destruction upon my soul.
“She’s awake.” Mom waves at me as she speaks to someone behind me. “We can call Liam now.”
“About that,” a deep voice says behind me. A dark suit appears at the corner of my eye. “There’s been a change of plans.”
Mom’s eyes narrow as she launches from her seat. “What do you mean a change of plans? You don’t get to just change plans, Edwin.”
The man—Edwin finally comes fully into view when he walks to Mom and places his hands on her shoulders. “I apologize for the deception, but I’m afraid that’s precisely what I’ve done.”
“You can’t do that.” Mom’s face turns red. Veins in her forehead throb. Her impending fit is imminent, and she’s clueless that she’s lost control.
He pushes on her shoulders, forcing her to her seat. Millimeters from her face, he tells her. “I already did.” He stands up, straightening his tie, and looks toward the cockpit where another man enters.
“Who are you?” Mom demands.
“That’s not your concern.” He locks eyes with me, dropping in front of me. My stomach turns as he trails his eyes over me. When his fingers brush over the tattoos on my arm, I turn rigid. “Under ordinary circumstances, you would be safe from someone like me. It’s unfortunate for you that someone requested a girl that fits your description perfectly. Almost to the last line. Tall, blond, a dancer.” What is he talking about? Is this… Do they… Oh my God, this is human trafficking?
My breathing stops when he tilts my head to the side. “Though judging by this jewelry, someone might miss you.” He stands and faces Edwin, his dark eyes like pools of tar. “I thought yousaid she was no one.”
“She is no one.” He clears his throat, looking at my mom. “No one anyone will miss. No one important.”
The man scrubs his hand over his jaw, then nods. “Fine. I don’t care if she is. As soon as this storm passes, we will take off. Once she’s in the buyer’s hands, it’s not my problem.” He turns and looks at my mom. “You won’t bring much money with that face, but fortunately I have plenty of buyers who aren’t concerned with your looks as long as you have holes they can fill.”
My mom turns fifty shades of white. Genuine fear flashes in her eyes. “What?” she shrieks. “No! I just needed to use her to get my ex-husband to drop the charges against me.”
“Ah,” he looks at her without an ounce of remorse. “But you see, Mr. Lambert here owes me a lot of money. You two will go a long way to paying down that debt.”
“You… You are insane if you think I will let this happen. Do you know who I am?” Mom screams as she launches from her seat once again, getting in the man’s face.
I hear laughter behind me. There are other people on the plane. It sounds like more men. I try to yell at my mom to sit down and shut up behind the gag covering my mouth, but they don’t even look my way.
My breathing becomes shaky and broken when the crack of his knuckles across her jaw echoes in the cabin. Blood flies from her nose, hitting my cheek as she crumples into her seat. The man leans over her, gripping her face until his knuckles turn white. “You are nothing, but the next slut I put to work.” He stands, straightens his jacket, and turns back to me. His dark eyes rake over me once again. “And you…” He brushes his hand over my hair. I want so badly to pull away but self-preservation forces me to stay still. “You are stunning my dear. Perhaps I shoulddemand more for you. Or keep you for myself.” A tear slips down my cheek as his fingers trace down my neck. “So pretty. Tell me, are you as innocent as you look?” My lids squeeze shut, trying to block him out. “Perhaps I can find out for myself, yes?”
When his hand brushes over my collarbone, tears erupt as I sob. An evil smile crosses his lips as he leans over, using his tongue to catch my tears. “I love the taste of fear,” he whispers. He reaches down, grabbing the hem of my skirts, pulling them up.
I can’t breathe. With every inch he lifts my dress, the pain in my chest spreads.
