Stay (4 page)

Read Stay Online

Authors: Emily Goodwin

BOOK: Stay
6.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

My body trembled. They were just going to leave me? No. No, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t. I stuck my fingers through the hole and banged on the door.

“Help me, please!” I cried. Panic rose. I couldn’t stand being in the dark a minute longer. I jiggled the door. “Let me out!”

“Ignore her,” Rochelle instructed Lily. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What the hell was wrong with her? I was a human being. Trapped in a closet. And she wanted young Lily to ignore me? I pressed my face against the door, crying.
 

“But why is she in the closet?” Lily asked, shooting Rochelle a dubious look.
 

“Please!” I tried again. “You have to help me. You know it’s wrong!”

“I don’t know,” Rochelle said loudly over my cries for help. “She must have done something wrong. Do you want to mess with that?”

“No!” I screamed. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Please,” I begged. “Please!” I sunk to my knees, bawling. I hiccupped a sob and forced myself up. I put my face to the hole and looked out. Lily’s eyes moved to the door, and I caught her eye. “Lily!” I cried. “Help me, please!” She held my gaze for a second, staring into me before flicking her eyes to Rochelle. She bit her lip and shook her head. I sniffled at my runny nose. Was she trying to tell me something about Rochelle? Lily ran a hand over her hair and turned her attention back to Rochelle. “Is she going to keep this up, like, all night? I can’t sleep.”

Rochelle cast a halfhearted look in my direction and shrugged. “Doubt it.”

“Please!” I tried again. “I just want to go home. Please! Help me!” I collapsed against the door and cried until my eyes swelled.
 

Rochelle and Lily ignored me and undressed. I made myself get up again and look through the hole. Lily looked at me and then quickly away. She pulled her shirt over her head and looked again. Her eyebrows pushed together and she bit her lip, looking conflicted. Then she moved out of my line of sight.
 

They got into their beds after turning the light off. Like a thousand dark hands, absolute terror grabbed me and pulled me down. My hand slid off the door, and a sliver of wood shoved its way under the skin on my ring finger. I almost didn’t feel the sting of the splinter. “Please!” I called again and broke down in tears.
 

I collapsed against the door, hitting it with the knob while sobs hiccupped out of me. “Please,” I cried. “How can you just leave me?” I asked, though I knew my words came out incoherently masked by sobs. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

And I didn’t. I did the right thing. I was here because I was trying to help someone. But then again, no good deed goes unpunished.

CHAPTER FOUR

“GET UP,” A gruff voice spoke. Something jabbed me in the side. My eyes flew open, and my hands scraped on the concrete floor in my haste to scramble to my feet. Fear made its way deep into my heart. I hadn’t been in a deep enough sleep to forget where I was or what had happened. I had, however, been out of it just long enough for Zane to take the doorknob from my hands.

The closet door was open, and weak sunlight filtered through a small basement window. Zane stood in front of me, blue eyes narrowed. I looked at him, trembling. He took a step forward, and I flinched. Was he going to choke me again? I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and backed into the wall. I clenched my jaw to keep my lip from quivering.
 

Don’t cry. Not now. Not in front of him.

“Go upstairs,” Zane ordered. “Nate wants to see you.” I wanted to know who Nate was and what he wanted with me. Zane jerked toward me, and I flinched away again. He snickered at my trepidation. I took a deep breath and tried to force away any visible fear, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my obvious terror. Jackson stood back but kept his eyes on me. His quiet distance was unnerving.
 

“Now,” Zane added pointedly and jabbed my shoulder.
 

I stepped past him and hesitated, looking around the dingy basement. The card table was several feet in front of the closet, and the row of cots was just beyond that. Jackson tipped his head.
 

“This way,” he said softly and turned, leading the way upstairs. I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. Jackson moved slowly, his muscular body stiff as if he was sore.

The stairs were wooden and worn in the middle from use. There was a splintering railing and only a single, uncovered light bulb above us, offering a minimal yellow glow. Jackson opened the door at the landing and moved to the side to let me pass. Zane slammed it shut when he exited the basement. There were multiple locks on it.

On their own accord, my hands began to tremble. I balled them into fists, digging my nails into my skin. We had emerged from the basement into a large kitchen. The walls were painted a soft yellow and the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances were new. The granite counter tops were gleaming, and there wasn’t a crumb or streak of dirt on the polished hardwood floors. There was a bowl of fruit on the center of a light oak table in the breakfast nook, which had large, four pane windows. Pale yellow flowers had been hand stitched onto the valance.
 

The sound of chirping birds was carried in on the breeze through an open window. I quickly stole a glance outside and saw nothing but a neatly manicured lawn that stretched for about an acre, then gave way to a forest full of thick trees with dark leaves. Jackson picked up his pace and walked out of the kitchen, through a formal dining room, and into a living room. Both rooms were decorated in such a way that they reminded me of something out of a magazine. Everything was spotless and organized, leaving me to wonder if anyone actually lived here.

“There she is,” a middle aged man said and stood from the couch. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue polo shirt that matched his eyes. His smile was warm, and his dark blonde hair was painstakingly styled around his handsome face. Jackson turned his head down, staring at the floor, and stepped to the side. He crossed his arms and pulled them close to his tense body.
 

The man, who I assumed was Nate, moved close to me. His eyes darted up and down my body several times before they settled on my face. He put his hand on my chin and tipped my head to the left. I immediately flinched. Zane took a quick step forward, holding out his arms as if anticipating a fight.

“Shhh,” Nate soothed. The tears I had been holding back rolled down my cheeks. He used his thumb to wipe them away. I recoiled at his touch. “You shouldn’t have hit her,” Nate scolded Zane. “This is going to take time to heal. And time costs me.” Nate’s hand slowly trailed down from my face to my neck, sweeping across my collarbone and then down towards my breasts.
 

I didn’t even think about it; my arm came up, and my fist made contact with Nate’s face. Heart hammering, I spun and took two steps before Zane grabbed my arms. He yanked them down and pulled me back, knocking me off my feet. I crumpled to the floor but continued to fight, struggling to free my arms. I threw my head back and hit him below the waist. He let out a grunt of pain. I twisted and pulled my right arm out of his hold.

Planting the soles of my shoes on the ground, I sprang up and hit Zane as hard as I could in the stomach. He responded by yanking my left arm back, and I screamed as I was pulled to the floor. He brought his foot up and kicked me in the side.

“Get her up,” Nate sternly ordered.
 

Zane kicked me once more in the back, his blow smacking into my kidney before he knelt down and hoisted me to my feet. I was crying and I hated it. I took a deep, sniffling breath and glared at Nate.

“You’re not going to get away with this!” I threatened. “My family knows I’m missing. They will come looking for me!”

Zane pulled my arms back, looping his arms around my elbows. I wiggled my shoulders but was unable to break free. Nate moved forward again and grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands. In one swift movement, he ripped it open. Several buttons popped off and bounced on the dark, wooden floor. Then he pulled down my tank top and slid his hands over my breasts.

“Don’t touch me!” I yelled and kicked at Nate.
 

Zane jerked me back. He slid his leg through mine and hooked it around my ankle, putting me off balance.
 

“She’s old,” Nate noted, looking past me to Zane.
 

“Nineteen, according to her license. But the older ones do better on the street,” Zane pointed out.

“Yes,” Nate agreed and moved his hands down to my stomach. “But someone could recognize her. The girl is right. People will be looking.”

“She could do well in the club,” Zane blurted, desperate to please Nate. “She’s tall and thin. She’d fit right in.”

“And pretty. Very pretty.” Nate’s words slid out of him like oil. His hands moved to my thighs. “And possibly an athlete. She would look good on stage.” He squeezed my muscles and then let me go. “But you do not seem to grasp the concept of being recognized. I’m not risking my business.”
 

My heart raced and my stomach churned. Club? Streets? What the fuck were these guys into? I knew deep down, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“I told him there were other options,” Jackson spoke for the first time since the basement. “But he didn’t listen.”

“Nobody asked you, Jackson,” Zane spat.

“He’s right,” Nate said. Zane’s grip on me tightened in unspoken anger.
 

“It’s your fault,” Zane snarled at Jackson. “You can’t even handle looking after one measly girl. She fucking ran away! You’re a worthless piece of shit!”

“Enough,” Nate calmly spoke. “She’s here. We have to deal with it, one way or another.”

Sweat dripped down my back as I witnessed the exchange. I was drowning, slowly sinking below dark, icy water. Only I was stuck in my body and in this room. Stuck with three men who inspected me like a horse at an auction and thought of me as nothing more than a body to profit from.

“What else do you know?” Nate asked Zane, sounding bored with me already.

“Her name is Adeline Miller. Parents own an art gallery where her mom teaches painting classes. She’s in school to be a nurse, has a younger sister named Arianna, two dogs that she trains and shows, and runs some blog called
Contagious Reads
. It's about books.”
 

“Very good,” Nate praised. His charming face twisted into a sadistic smile when he took in my horror and confusion. “Teenagers,” he sighed, “never listen to the warnings about the dangers of social networking. You’re all so willing to post every single mundane detail about your pathetic lives.” He spun around and rubbed his forehead. Sitting heavily on the couch, he stared at me. “Do you know where you are?”

I shook my head.

“Good.” He tipped his head and ran his eyes over me again. His brow furrowed like he saw something that wasn’t pleasing to him. “Are you a virgin?” he asked causally.

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t been a virgin for several years, but they wouldn’t be able to tell, would they? I mentally debated whether or not being a virgin would act in my favor.

“Well?” Nate asked.

“I can find out.” Zane moved one of his hands down to my waist and into my pants, slipping his fingers into my underwear. With no hesitation he shoved a finger inside me. I cried out in pain as his skin stuck to me, feeling like skin was tearing off. He dug his nails into me, laughing.
 

“No!” I shouted. “I’m not. I’m not a virgin.”

Zane shoved his finger deeper. I screamed again. Pain shot through me, choking me. Tears ran down my face.
 

“She’s not lying,” he said and removed his hand.

Nate sighed. “Too bad. Older virgins are so hard to come by these days.” He wistfully shook his head. “It’s pretty simple here. Follow the rules and you won’t get hurt. Break the rules … ” he trailed off with a sickening chuckle. “Well, you’ll just have to see for yourself now, deary.” He waved his hand in the air. “Take her downstairs. Feed her. I’ll figure out what to do with her later.”

My gut twisted and my head swam in a cloud of black terror. If Zane didn’t have a painful grip on my arms, my knees would have buckled. Nothing felt real as I was ushered back into the basement. I was floating above my body, barely able to feel Zane’s rough hands on my skin. My mind didn’t want to accept that this was my new reality. There was a slight ringing in my ears and my eyes just wouldn’t focus.
 

Zane turned me around and placed his hands on my shoulders, shoving me into a sitting position onto a thin mattress. The cot creaked under my weight, and the screw in my back pocket bit at my skin. Pain still burned between my legs. I folded my arms against myself, just then realizing that my shirt was still pulled down. I fixed it, keeping my eyes on Zane. Why was he just standing there? I was crippled with terror. A little voice screamed at me to jump up, grab my screw, and shove it in Zane’s eye. But another voice told me to lie down, close my eyes, and think of something else. This was all too much for my mind to handle.

Before I could chose which voice to listen to, Jackson loudly stomped down the stairs, holding a tray with food. His eyes met mine and he offered a slight sympathetic smile that I wanted to slap right off of his stubble-covered face. He set the food down on an overturned milk carton and backed away before turning and trudging up the stairs. My stomach grumbled when I looked at the sandwich. I knew I needed to eat.
 

Suddenly Zane knelt down to my level and pushed my knees open with his hands. His body jerked forward as he moved onto me, pinning me onto the bed, his legs between mine. Panic flooded through me and I manically struggled to get away. My hands pressed into his shoulders. I tried to bend my knees but couldn’t. Zane was too heavy.

“Get off!” I shouted. “Get off me!” Knowing he was too strong to shove away, I let my hands drop and I frantically tried to turn over and crawl to freedom. The metal springs of the cot protested under our weight. Zane pressed his torso against mine, grinding his hips into me. His face moved to my neck, hot breath warming my skin as he panted. My fingers tangled around the tattered quilt as I tried to pull away. Zane walked his fingers up my leg and wrapped them around my thigh. My heart pounded with desperation and fear. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes and I screamed.

Other books

The Baker's Wife by Erin Healy
Ghosts by Daylight by Janine di Giovanni
Guardian of Eden by DuBois, Leslie
Grave Concerns by Rebecca Tope