Page 15 of Caging Liberty
“Help!” I scream, pumping my legs harder. “Help me!”
The couple pauses and looks my way before I dart my eyes between them and the man with the earpiece. “Please help!”
I crash into the gate, then quickly pull myself up the metal bars and haul myself over. I drop at the feet of the couple then grab onto the man’s arm. His eyes widen, and he rears back with surprise.
“I’ve been kidnapped,” I pant out, sucking in long breaths. “Please, I’m not supposed to be here. I need to call my husband. His name is Robert Gaumond, he’s the owner of Holdings Manufacturing. He…”
My eyes catch the woman’s neck, and my throat closes up. I let go of the man’s arm and take a step back, my eyes trailing from the loop on the black collar to the leash handle secured in the man’s hand.
I lift my eyes to look at the woman’s face, but she stares straight at the ground.
“You must be fresh,” the man snickers, my gaze zipping back to him. Sawyer’s eyes held a touch of sinisterness, but this man’s eyes are all violence. All pain. All evil pleasure.
I take another step back and bump into the fence. The man laughs.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“She doesn’t have one yet.”
I jump at the sound of Sawyer’s voice and spin to face him through the gate. His mouth spreads into a smile when our eyes meet.
“I’m thinking it should be something pretty, though. And full of spirit.”
“Hmm,” the man ponders. “Maybe a plant name.”
“Clover,” Sawyer suggests.
“Ivy.”
“Ooh, I like that.” Sawyer winks at me, then signals to the earpiece guy. The gate opens, and I’m finally zapped from my paralyzed state. I jump away from the gate, but the man easily grabs me and pins me against his chest.
“Really, Ivy?” Sawyer asks, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to runagain? You’re not a quick learner, are you?”
“Let me go!” I sneer, jerking in the man’s grasp.
Sawyer steps up to me and roughly takes my chin. “Okay, Ivy. I’m going to spell this out for you one more time, so pay attention. This is aprivateisland. Every person on it is fully aware of the sex slave situation. We can play the cat and mouse game if you want, but eventually, it’s going to get old to me, and you’re going to wind up running into someone much meaner than Mr. J. here. And while youarea manor whore, I’m not opposed to allowing sleepovers, so…” He lowers his eyes to my lips and loosens his grip on my chin. “Can we go back inside now so I can give you the rest of the tour? I’m sure your friends are anxious to see you.”
As I stare into Sawyer’s deceptively easygoing, green eyes, I feel a sense of defeat wash over me that makes every cell in my body heavier. I stand on concrete but feel as if I’m sinking into the earth.
I’m not going home. Not now, maybe not ever. If I don’t find a way off this island, I’m going to live out my days as a whore, and I don’t even know what all that entails.
“Why me?” I ask, my voice breaking along with my hope. It’s pathetic, but part of me hopes he has soothing reassurances for me, just like he did for the other women. I wouldn’t believe him, but maybe he could say something that would soften the blow. Or at least explain why and how I ended up here.
He pushes my hair back behind my ear, and I cringe.
“Why not you?” He leans in and takes a deep inhale through his nose nuzzled in my hair. “My little Manhattan peasant.”
My muscles tense, and my ears heat. I can feel his lips move as he smiles.
As my heart drops into my stomach, my mind replays the countless conversations I had with who I now know is this man. This fraud. This monster.
Saltyshells.
How could I have been so stupid?
He pulls back and grins like he’s enjoying every ounce of my disgust, not only for him, but for myself. I almost agreed to meet this man. I was prepared to throw away my marriage for a shot in the dark with this piece of shit. Anger brews until my blood boils, and I channel all the hatred I have for myself into hatred for him.
I gather what little saliva I have in my mouth and spit in his face, feeling my first bout of victory when his grin falls.