Page 12 of Chained

"I'll be back soon, my little whores. Make sure you behave for Daddy," he says through heavy breathing, his hand scratching at his erect crotch. I think he does it on purpose, revealing what little cock he has hiding in there. Not much to brag about, but still. I don't want it anywhere near me.

The minute he's out of sight, I turn to the girls and unleash every ounce of frustration I've been harbouring.

"Why didn't you guys run? Do something? You had the chance!"

They all meet my stare. Each and every one is more broken than the last. I don't let it fade the frustration that is slowly simmering to anger.

Annabelle sits close beside me, humming a small tune as she holds onto the metal chain. I ignore her, meeting the redhead's gaze as her lips part to say something back. I hope she does, give me a reason to scream that isn't pain. Give me a reason to fight that isn't protection.

"The chance to do what, exactly? He has a fucking gun." Her voice is so matter of fact it instantly adds to the hatred in my heart that could never be for her. Even though she's right, even though I know it's a death wish and I don't want to admit it. Because admitting it means it's hopeless. That this is inevitable.

Rolling my eyes, I turn away.

"I'm sorry we let you down," Annabelle's sweet voice interrupts.

I give her a soft smile as I shift closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I don't speak; I don't need to. I just hold her in place, offering her as much comfort as I can.

Time passes slower here, each second moulding into the other as we wait for whoever decided to buy us to show up. I turn to Annabelle, breaking the silence. "Hey, Annabelle," I whisper. She looks up at me with her big blue eyes, rimmed red from the tears. "Did you...Did you see another girl wherever he kept you? A girl that looked like me?" I try not to hope, but I can't help the flicker of it in my heart, that maybe—just maybe—she's seen Rosa.

"No…it was only us. I'm sorry." Her bottom lip quivers, and I reach for her hand.

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault," I say, trying to comfort her. She looks even younger than before, and it breaks my heart.

"How did you end up here?" I ask, grazing my thumb against her knuckles as she takes in a deep breath.

"It was stupid, I...was stupid." Her hand shakes in mine as I watch her chest quicken, a small sob hiccupping in her throat as the tears start to flow.

"I was so lonely, you have no idea, Amora. Mum just moved us here and I knew no one, and everyone at school hated me." She lets the sobs freely escape now. I pull her close into my side, the chains dragging against the floor, and press my face into her hair as she clings to my dress. I hush her, like a mother to an infant, hoping it'll ease some of her pain.

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and sniffs. "I met him on a website, it was kinda like a chatroom for teens? He said he was sixteen." Her breathing is uneven. I nod, stroking her hair, waiting for her to finish.

"We arranged to meet at the cinema. I thought it was a date, my first ever date." She stares at the floor, a slight flush to her cheek.

"You're not silly for believing him, Annabelle. He tricked you," I whisper softly.

"I feel it, Amora. I feel so fucking dumb for thinking someone like that was interested in me."

"You're not dumb, these people...as sick as it is, they're experts in this." I try to sound reassuring, but hopefully it's a lesson for her not to trust so easily. It's a lesson for me, too. Even at the age of twenty, I didn't learn, either, clearly.

"I don't even remember seeing them. I just felt the prick in my neck, and everything went dark." Her voice raises a little higher now. "Oh God, I just want my mum." The sobs continue.

I grip her tighter, my fingers digging in. "Listen, your mum will find you. She'll have the police searching."

If her mum reports her to the police, they'll search for her. She's a kid—they care more about kids than women. It's the truth, even if it's completely fucked up, but it means maybe, somehow, they'll find us, too. It's a small hope I cling to. It's the only hope, in fact.

"You're feeding the girl bullshit, and you know it." Of course, the redhead pipes up. She's becoming predictable—the moment I feel any flicker of hope, she perks up, shooting it down. Now, I've never hit a girl before, never been in a fight, but in this moment, I could have slapped her. My hand itches at my side; I'm so ready for it after everything. I try to breathe, my feet moving an inch forward, but the chain reminds me that even if I want to, I can't.

Besides, she's not worth it.

"Don't listen to them." I stroke the hair from Annabelle's face, hoping she'll listen to me and not the girl five feet away.

"I'll tell you what's gonna happen next, blondie. The scum that took us is going to hand us over to whatever sick fuck walks through those doors next." Her voice is full of anger. I spin like a woman possessed, eyes finding hers, but I'm stopped in my tracks. I expect to see hatred, maybe even enjoyment, but all I see is devastation and pain.

Still, it doesn't stop me from saying something. We're all hurting, no one's hurt is worse than the others.

"You're scaring her, what the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, my voice higher as Annabelle sobs into my chest. I can hear the small whispers of her prayers as she grips hard against my dress. I try to soothe her, but the other girl doesn't stop, her eyes fixed on Annabelle.

A tear flows down her cheek as her fear explodes. "They're going to take us and do whatever they fucking want with us. You think this is hell? Wait until they're in between your thighs. That's the real hell."