A sharp pinch at Olivia’s wrist pulled her out of her sleep. She woke from a terrible dream, the kind you know can’t be real, but won’t allow you to wake. The dream clung to her like cold mist, making her skin feel clammy. She shivered, then blinked. Her mouth was dry and tasted of something sweet. The persistent pinch at her wrist drew her attention. She stared at her arm in disbelief. A fresh tattoo stood out on her wrist. “What? No. This can’t be real. I would never…”
She looked around the room for the first time, realizing something was wrong. This wasn’t a hospital. What was it? There were no windows and the walls were made of cinder block. Bars blocked the only entrance. It felt like a cell or a dungeon.
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. Her dream had been real. Olivia screamed. Her voice echoed around the sparsely furnished room, the concrete walls around her magnifying her terror. Every passing minute seemed like hours. Her mind raced, fueled by fear and adrenaline. Where was she? What was happening? Why was she here? She tried to remember. She had been at her parents’. They had fought again. She closed her eyes remembering the look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, Momma. Where are you? I’m so sorry I yelled at you.” Tears pricked her eyes. She had been driving. She remembered a storm. And a man. A man stopped to help her. A sob caught in her throat as she realized what had happened. “Oh no. Please, no.”
She replayed the news reports over and over in her mind. Those poor women who had been found murdered. Had the reporters said anything about tattoos? She remembered something about signs of torture. Oh God, would she end up like them?
Was this the same man who had hurt all those women? Panic rose up in her throat again and she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw herself against the cell doors until someone came to let her out. But the thought of that someone was more terrifying than anything else. She shook with fear. All she could do was sit and wait. She tried not to imagine the horrors those women had gone through. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that was her fate. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had been so determined not to go back to her parents’. She had been desperate and had made a fatal mistake. Now she would give anything to be back on the farm listening to her mother preach at her.
She heard footsteps in the hall. She stared at the cell door, dreading what was coming. Her heart hammered against her chest with such force she thought it might burst. She held her hand over her mouth to hold back the sound of her choked sobs.
A tall, thin figure stepped in front of the door and stood for a moment watching her. The sound of a key being inserted into the lock was like thunder as the tumblers fell. The door opened and the man stepped inside. The door closed and she heard the snick of the lock. She wouldn’t be getting out that easy.
As her eyes focused, she trained her gaze on the man who held her life in his hands.
“Who are you? What are you going to do to me?” Olivia said through sobs.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?” Olivia asked.
He brushed the hair away from her face, making her flinch. “You were chosen. That means you’re special.”
Olivia shook her head. “Why?” Her voice cracked. Her mouth was dry and her throat burned.
His smile turned wicked. “Because I always get what I want.”
The blood in Olivia’s veins turned cold. By the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, she was certain she didn’t want to know what he wanted with her.
He sat on the cot next to her, too close for her comfort.
“You see, Ms. Danner, I’m a collector. I collect many things, but my most prized possession is life. I knew the moment I saw you in that coffee shop that you would be special. You have a certain quality about you that speaks to me.” He inhaled a deep breath, waving his hand in front of his face as if sampling the scent of her.
Olivia clenched her hands tight around her middle. The thought of this man getting anywhere near her was nauseating.
He hadn’t missed her response. He leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I like the smell of your fear. I would have liked to have taunted you for a while before taking you, but I couldn’t risk losing you.” He ran a finger along her cheek. Olivia jerked away from him. “Don’t worry, we can start slow. I have a job for you. As long as you do what I tell you, no one will touch you. If you don’t do what I say, we’ll have to change our arrangement. You’d be worth a lot more in the sex trade anyway. It’s up to you.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what he was talking about or what this job might be if it wasn’t sex, but she was willing to do just about anything to keep him away from her.
“How long do I have to be here?” she asked.
He smiled. “This is home now, Ms. Danner. Didn’t I make myself clear? You belong to me.”
Tears flowed freely down Olivia’s cheeks. She was helpless. Her worst nightmare was coming true and she had no way out.
He grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong. He slapped her across the face. “Be still,” he commanded.
Olivia stilled. The sting in her cheek burned to the bone and she felt the flesh begin to swell.
He pulled out her arm, studying the fresh tattoo etched into her skin. He ran his thumb across the tender flesh. Olivia realized he was rubbing something onto her skin.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Just a little ointment. We don’t want this to get infected.”
The contrast was astounding. This man had abducted her, drugged her, branded her, and was holding her captive. Now he was worried her arm would become infected.
“What do you care?”
“Ah, I care a great deal about all of my investments,” he said with a smile.
Olivia frowned, trying to make sense of what was happening. She looked at the tattoo. The skin was raised and red, but the swelling wasn’t too bad. The pattern was strange. It was some kind of shield or coat of arms or something. She looked closer at the number 33 elegantly displayed in the center. What did it mean?
“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.
“We’ll see,” he said with a grin. “Slow. Remember? You’ll learn everything you need to know soon enough.”
He stood, placing the tube of ointment on the table. “Keep that arm clean and put this on a few times a day. It will heal in a few days.”
He walked back to the door. “See you soon, Ms. Danner.”
As he stepped out, Olivia threw herself at the door, trying to push it open before it could be locked. But she was no match for him, and the door pulled closed an instant before she could slide her fingers into the gap.
Olivia slid to the floor, pounding her fists against the unforgiving metal until her hands were sore and bruised. Defeated, she crawled back to the bed. She repeated everything he had said to her over and over in her head. What coffee shop did he mean? She had never seen him before. She groaned. How had she been so gullible, or desperate, as to allow something like this to happen?
* * *
Olivia searched the room for a way to escape, but the cell was a fortress. She studied the wall across from her. It was lined with photographs of other women who looked remarkably like her. Had they been kept in this room? Where were they now? What had happened to them?
She jumped at the sound of keys outside the door. She retreated to the corner of the room as if she could blend in with the walls and wouldn’t be seen.
The door opened and in stepped a woman that could have been Olivia’s mother. Her blond hair was pulled back at her neck and fell between her shoulders. The most striking difference between them was their eye color—this woman had deep blue eyes. A guard closed the door behind her once she was inside.
The woman carried a bundle of blankets and sheets in her arms. “I’m Liz,” the woman said. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
Olivia studied the woman and flicked her eyes to the pictures on the wall, finding the woman’s photo almost instantly.
“You’re alive,” Olivia said with surprise.
The woman looked to the photos and back to Olivia. “Yes, and you will be too if you do what you’re told.”
“What about the others?” Olivia pointed to the photographs.
Liz shrugged. “Some are still here, some have been sent away, others, I’m afraid, didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out? Olivia flinched at the understanding of what that meant. “Oh God, they’re dead?”
Liz nodded and looked away.
Fear surged through Olivia, making her want to run, but there was nowhere to go. “What does he want with us?” Olivia’s voice trembled at the mere thought of him.
Liz set the bed linens on the sink and started stripping the bed. “Different things,” she answered. “You might have assignments sometimes, but mostly we are part of a group of women who fight for the enjoyment of men.”
Olivia was taken aback. “Fight? What do you mean?”
“You’ll see. But don’t worry, he won’t let the men touch you as long as he considers you his. He wants the satisfaction of having something no one else can have. If you don’t work out, you can be put in general population with the other women. You don’t want to go there. People get hurt there—some die. It’s pretty brutal. Some of us have been sent there as punishment when we mess up, and let me tell you, it isn’t a place you want to go.”
“How long have you been here?”
Liz looked to the photos again. “I’ve lost track really. I guess you could say I’ve been here since the beginning.”
Olivia studied the photograph. Liz was younger then, much younger. Her heart sank at the realization. “You mean you’ve been here for years?”
Liz nodded.
“Oh, dear God, no.”
Liz finished making the bed before facing Olivia again.
“They pair the women based on size, kind of like professional boxing. You know, heavyweight, lightweight, that kind of thing. At least that way those like us aren’t getting crushed every time we fight.”
“You can’t be serious?”
Liz shrugged. “I’m afraid so.”
Something Liz said made it through the confusion clouding Olivia’s brain. “What about you, do you fight?”
Liz shook her head. “At my age, I have other responsibilities.”
“You mean, this will never end?”
Liz looked away. “At first he’ll have you spend time with the other women. He’ll want you to get a taste of why it’s smart to stay on his good side. Once he feels you’re ready, he’ll bring you in for your audition. Get through that and you’ll officially be his girl. Trust me, it’s a lot better here with us.”
Olivia tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. How had she gotten into this? More importantly, how was she ever going to get out? She glanced to the door.
Liz shook her head, reading her intentions. “Don’t bother. There are guards outside the door waiting for me. We don’t go anywhere without guards. Even if you did get past them, this place is like a real prison, you’d never get out.”
There was something about Liz that struck Olivia as odd. Her tone was flat, but she didn’t have the look of someone who had been in captivity for years. She looked relaxed, almost as if she was at home.
“How can you live like this?” Olivia asked. She trailed her eyes over her, taking in every detail. She locked her gaze onto the faint flash of color at the woman’s wrist, recognizing the tattoo. They were marked for life. Had Liz been here so long she had given up hope of her own freedom?
“You get used to it,” Liz said.
“How could anyone ever get used to being a slave?”
“He’s not so bad if you do what he wants. Most days he doesn’t even come around. It isn’t so much to ask really. He cares for us when we’re sick, or hurt. He punishes us when we’re bad.”
Liz had a faraway look in her eyes that said she had given up a long time ago.
Olivia clenched her fists and tried to fight back tears. That could never be her. She would never give up.
“Tell me about the fights.”
Liz smiled sadly. “Sometimes we just wrestle around for his amusement or if he’s entertaining special guests. You know, like a show. But other times there are real fights where the men make bets or we have to punish each other while the men watch. Those things are harder. Most of the time we just spend time with him, do things for him. He needs someone to take care of him.”
The last statement made Olivia’s skin crawl. How far inside this woman’s head had this creep infected? She talked about him as if she cared about him. Olivia felt sick. “When you say we take care of him, does that include sex?”
Liz didn’t answer, but the look in her eyes filled Olivia with fear and disgust. Her brain didn’t want to accept this as reality. It was just too much.
* * *
Something in Olivia’s brain told her it was morning. She forced her eyes open at the sound of the lock turning. She was surprised she had been able to sleep. She had been certain she would never sleep again after what she had been through. But despite her fear, exhaustion had eventually won out.
Liz stepped through the door as casually as if she was in her own home. “Good morning. I thought you would feel better after a shower,” Liz said, placing a fresh set of scrubs on the chair by the bed.
“Where?” Olivia asked.
“I’ll take you.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what to do, but the idea of a shower after days in the same soiled clothes was enough to tempt her.
“You’ll be safe, I promise.”
Olivia doubted there was anything that could keep her safe in a place like this. She climbed out of bed and followed Liz as she stepped out of the room. She had hoped they would be alone, but as soon as she stepped through the door, she noticed a man with cold eyes waiting for them. He didn’t look right. It was as if he was trying to be two people at once. One was hard and dark, the other had the same tired look that her accountant always had.
“Don’t worry about him. He won’t hurt you—he’s just the guard. Follow me,” Liz said cheerfully.
Olivia frowned. Liz acted as if they were on a tour of some museum or something. She followed Liz down the hall to a communal bathroom that reminded her of her time in college. No one else was around, and the space was so quiet Olivia could hear her footsteps echo around the room.
Liz pulled a towel from a stack on a shelf and handed it to Olivia. Hesitantly, Olivia took it.
“I’ll wait out here for you. Don’t worry, you’re alone.”
As she went to the stall farthest from the door and turned on the water, Olivia wondered where everyone was. Why was she being kept away from everyone? And why was Liz always the one to come for her? Liz brought her clothes and food, changed her bed, and now was allowing her out of the room to shower. Liz was always nice to her, but Olivia couldn’t help but think of Liz as one of her captors. The thought made her feel guilty when she thought of the amount of time Liz had spent here. Then there was the guard. She wasn’t sure how to read him and didn’t want to start out on anyone’s bad side. For now, she would do what she was told. She would never get out if she stayed locked in her room forever.
After the shower, Liz took Olivia on a tour of the living spaces where the women worked. There were too many turns and too many stairs for her to remember where she was going or how to get back to where she’d started. Everything looked the same. The paint on the walls was old and the halls smelled faintly of mold. She had seen the kitchen, where she would most likely be given chores, and the laundry, where she hoped she would never be again after seeing the piles of bloody towels in the bin.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder to the man following them. He was staring at her. He didn’t even look away when she looked right at him. A shiver ran up her spine, and she looked away. But there was something in the way he’d looked at her that made her take a second look. He was still looking at her. Was that pity on his face? Did he actually feel sorry for her?
Liz took her arm. “Don’t mind him. He likes to look, but he would never touch one of the Recruiter’s girls.”
“The Recruiter?”
Liz nodded. “He calls himself that because it’s his job to bring in the girls. It’s just like a business. Someone wants someone for their team. He finds the right girl and brings her in.”
“But I thought you said everyone belonged to him.”
Liz shook her head. “No. You belong to him. Other girls belong to other men—they call them the Employers. That’s about all I can tell you.”
None of this made any sense to Olivia. Liz made this sound normal, as if these men were just trading stocks or property. Her heart sank. That was exactly what they thought she was, property. “This is human trafficking.”
Liz nodded.
Before she realized where they were, Olivia was back outside her room. Liz smiled at her knowingly.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll see for yourself how things work.” Liz nudged Olivia inside the room. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
Olivia wanted to ask questions, but the door closed in her face and she heard the finality of the lock sliding into place. She would never sleep now, not while knowing what she did and dreading what she didn’t.
Olivia fell onto the bed, hugging the pillow to her chest. Was anyone looking for her yet? Surely, they’d found her car on the road. What did her parents think? Would they ever forgive her? Tears spilled from her eyes, carrying her fear, her grief, her hope. Someone would find her. Wouldn’t they? Olivia thought of the bodies of the women on the news. Would they find her or would she end up like those girls or be trapped here forever like Liz?
Olivia closed her eyes against that image. She took a shuddering breath, and for the first time in years, she prayed.