Arranged love

When I’m placed back on my feet, a hood is shoved over my head, and I’m thankful for the darkness. Even if it is a false sense of security because I don’t want to see what’s out there for me. I don’t need to see the crowd or who is bidding. It won’t be a handsome, tatted King coming to rescue me. Not this time.

Hands grip my shoulders, holding me in place, when I hear a voice whisper in my ear through the hood. “Go make us some money, whore.”

I’m shoved forward just like last time, but I manage to remain standing. I won’t be able to get up easily with my hands tied behind my back and a hood over my head. I’d hate to fall off a stage if that’s even what I’m standing on.

I freeze. The blood rushing in my ears is so loud that I can only hear my heavy breathing. I’m sweating, my body cold and shaking. The hood is sticking to my skin along with my hair, and the snot running down my face mixed with the tears I’m now crying.

My legs tremble, and that pain at the base of my neck intensifies to a burning sensation. I want to scratch it but don’t have that luxury.

It feels like hours that I stand frozen in place while men look at what I have to offer them. My shirt is grabbed, and I’m yanked backward into a hard body. The hood is ripped from my head, and I’m back in the hallway. I’m sucking in breath after breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. Is that a thing? Can someone my age have one?Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Good job, little sis.” Matteo grabs my chin roughly, forcing me to look up at him. “Be a good slut and show him a good time. Give him his money’s worth. And when we decide he’s had enough, we’ll come and get you.”

I spit in his face. Just like I did Richard. Fuck them and their sadistic mentality. Instead of slapping me, he laughs. “We’ll be seeing you soon.” He shoves the hood back over my head and grips my upper arm.

I’m pulled forward until yanked to a stop. “She’s all yours.”

I hold my breath.

“She better be worth it.” I hear an unfamiliar voice say, and my heart stops. A part of me was praying, holding onto hope that Dillan would save me again. But whoever just spoke proves that I was just dreaming because that was not him.

“You’ll have to let me know about that.” Matteo laughs.

My shirt is grabbed once again, and I find myself walking forward.

I’m numb. My body accepts its fate of a life of servitude as a sex slave. I’m going to be sold over and over. Used for my brother’s sick pleasure. A way to make money. It doesn’t matter how much he already has because I can bring him more.

The man doesn’t say anything to me. Instead, he leads me with the hood over my head. I hear the sound of a door creak as it opens, and then he’s helping me into what I’m assuming is a car. Cool leather hits my legs as the shirt rides up while I sit down. Then the hood is ripped off my head.

BONES

SILVERY-BLUE EYES land on mine as I sit across from her in the limo.

“Mia.” I rush over to her.

Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t say anything. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I pull her toward me so Tristan can cut the zip tie binding her wrists. He was texting me the entire time he was in there while she was on the stage. I hated that I couldn’t be there, but we couldn’t chance her brother seeing me. Since we knew he was behind this.

He cuts them free, and I sit her back into her seat. “Hey, you’re okay.” I cup her wet face. My eyes search hers, but she closes them, and her body starts to shake.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her off the seat. Sitting back in mine, I bring her onto my lap. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Mia.”

Her arms come up to wrap around my neck, and I start to rock her back and forth softly, rubbing her back. She’s got to be exhausted. I want to ask her what all she’s been through in the last three days without me but refrain. Now is not the time.

“You … left me.” She sobs.

I hold her tighter. “I’m so sorry. I promise it will never happen again,” I vow to her. The only way I will leave her is if they kill me, and I’d like to see them try.

She pulls away, and I let her. She remains sitting on my lap and brushes her hair from her wet face. “My neck,” she says through sobbing.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask, my eyes falling to it. He had choked her out. Maybe he did it more than once.

“Matteo …” She swallows. “He did something to the back of my neck.” I allow her to crawl off my lap and sit beside me on the bench seat. Grabbing her hair to one side, she bends forward and holds her hair for me to see her neck. “Right here.” Her free hand runs over the base of her neck.

“Tracking device,” Tristan speaks.

I look over at him. “A tracking device?” I repeat. Is that how they found her the first time at my beach house? No. It can’t be. If she had one then, Lane would have picked it up when he gave her a full body scan at the hospital after she showed up and passed out. Or … she did say she passed out then. I guess they could have removed it while she was out.

Tristan nods. “That’s their plan. To sell her. Kidnap her and sell her again.” He looks at her, his eyes softening. “That way, they can get as much money out of her as possible. It happens a lot.”

My hands fist. “How do we remove it?” Even as I ask the question, I know the answer.

He flips the knife open that he still holds from cutting the zip tie. “We cut it out.”

“What?” she shrieks, letting go of her hair and sitting up straight. “No.” Her wide eyes go to mine. “No. No. No.”

“Mia-”

“Please. Don’t,” she begs, interrupting me.

“It has to come out, or they will find you again,” I tell her.

Tears run down her bruised face, and she sniffs.

Tristan reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a vial. Thankfully, she’s too busy staring at her hands in her lap to care about what he’s doing. He then grabs a glass tumbler and the scotch in the minibar. He pours both into the tumbler, then holds it out for him.

“Here,” I hold out the glass, and her bloodshot eyes meet mine. “You must be thirsty.” Handing it to her, she grips the cup in her hands and downs it. Some drips down her chin to her filthy T-shirt.

She sucks in a deep breath, and the cup falls from her hands at my feet. “What …?”

Her wide eyes meet mine, and I cup her face. “It had to be done,” I tell her, and then her eyes close. I catch her in my arms and pull her limp body into my lap. My eyes meet his.

He shrugs. “I was prepared to drug her if need be.”

I told him what Luca once told me. Do what you need to do.

“Text Nite. Have him meet us ASAP.”

He nods, flipping open the blade once again, and holds it out to me. Turning her onto her stomach the best I can, I take the knife while he pulls her hair off her neck.

I take my free hand and feel around her neck until I find the little bump. It’s so small I would have never noticed it. I push the blade into her skin and make a small cut. Blood instantly starts pouring down the sides of her neck and onto my slacks.

Pushing my thumb and pointer finger into her open skin, I grab the device and pull it out. Tristan holds the empty cup out to me, and I drop it inside. Then I grab a shirt that we brought with us. Honestly, I expected her to be naked. Jasmine had packed Mia a bag while we had a meeting at my house yesterday and discussed our plans to bring Mia back with everyone. I made sure to grab an outfit from that bag for her this evening since her dress was ripped last time.

I press the shirt to the wound, applying pressure as the limo comes to a stop.