Something swished, like shuffling against the floor, and I knew I wasn’t alone. Fear crawled through my body, spindly legs tapping on my veins, creeping along my bones like an unwanted bug. I froze, not wanting whoever was in here to know I was awake.
“I’m Leanna.” I jumped at the feminine voice.
“Shut up, Leanna,” another said. “Don’t draw attention to us.”
“No one is coming for us,” Leanna snapped. “They don’t even come to let us piss. They barely even feed us.” That was what the strong smell was—excrement. Oh God, where am I?
“Hi.” I looked around. “Do you know where we are?” Someone cried at my question, a third girl.
“We’re on our way to slavery, honey,” Leanna said, so easily that I had to blink a few times, had to take a few breaths, because I couldn’t quite believe it. Her tone was too gentle, too sweet, like she was saying we were on our way to church camp.
Another few minutes passed in silence, eyes never adjusting to the darkness. There was no way for them to do so—there wasn’t even a sliver of light. Finally I asked, “But do you know where we are?”
“No.”
I sat back, letting that sink in. Gabby had been right when she said the men were coming to take me to The Institute. For all I knew, I was on the opposite side of the world.
Eventually my eyes adjusted as much as they could, but everything was still fuzzy and gray. I couldn’t make out features. Hair color, eye color, skin color, that was impossible to see. I could only see shapes, stop bumping into people. Quiet whispers started up, some in a different language, but no one talked to me. I was alone with my thoughts, alone to think about Anteros.
About Gabby.
Anteros and I existed in a world of our own. It was dark and dangerous and dirty and fucked up, and when we were together, no one else existed but us. Except people did exist, and now Gabby was dead because of me.
A few minutes later, I talked to Leanna. Some people preferred their own corner. Some people preferred silence. Some people preferred to cry. It was how they coped, and that was fine. Me, I really liked talking to her. It took my mind off how I was about to be shipped across the sea to some ambiguous place called The Institute and sold, my identity taken from me.
I went into massive debt to save you. Hundreds of millions of dollars to keep you out of the paws of slavers. I fucked up my entire goddamn life for you.
As I sat in this smelly, black box, Anteros’s words played on a loop in my mind. I couldn’t help but think what a fool I’d been.
So yeah, talking helped.
“I actually grew up in Ohio,” Leanna said. “I came to New York for a fresh start. I had big dreams, you know?” She sighed as if remembering.
“I do,” I said.
“What’s your story?” she asked.
“It’s…” I struggled with where to start. “It’s long.” I thought again about what Anteros had said to me about The Institute, about my contract. I hadn’t wanted to believe him. I hadn’t wanted to believe it could be worse than when I’d sold myself to him, but he’d said there were men who took pleasure in pain, men who would keep me in a cage—a literal cage.
The smell of shit and piss filled my nostrils as the steady sound of crying echoed in the box. I opened my mouth to tell Leanna what was going to happen, but closed it. I was certain the reason these women were crying was because they were mourning the life they’d had, not the one they would have. I didn’t want to burst that bubble.
“I get it,” she said. “I was in love…” Her whisper became nonexistent for a beat. “At least, I thought I was. And now I’m here. Because of him.”
“Leanna…” I wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded eerily similar to my situation.
“Isn’t it fucked up that I still love him? At least, I still hurt for him. I can’t really separate the two. It always hurt with him, and I thought that was love.”
“Someone who loves you won’t put you here,” some other girl shouted from the opposite side. She was the same girl who’d told Leanna to shut up, but I still didn’t know her name. “That’s not fucking love, Leanna. Get that through your thick fucking skull.” Angry, furious arguing erupted. Every girl in the box started yelling. It was a small, contained space and the voices echoed. It was too loud, and it gave me a headache. Even as everyone argued, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had started it.
Someone who loves you won’t put you here.
I sighed and put my head between my knees. Anteros never put me here. He’d destroyed his career to keep me from The Institute. Destroyed his life. But in the process, he destroyed me. I understood what Leanna said; I got it. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t love, because I hurt for Anteros in a way so pure and agonizing that I was marked forever by it. Any other love attempted on my heart would feel like hollow echoes in comparison.
The yelling echoed until a harsh crank—the crate door grinding against the metal bottom—silenced everyone. Yellow light oozed inside. I’d become so used to the dark that even the feeble parking lot lights hurt my eyes.
A man stood in the opening, his figure nothing but a shadow. I thought he might be there to help, give us food, let us piss outside the crate. Something like that.
“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled.