Violent Beginnings (The Moretti Crime Family 2)

She continues spitting up blood while hunched over, her slender arms wrapped around her middle like she’s trying to hold herself together. All I want to do is go over there and wrap my arms around her, but I’m rooted in place, knowing the consequences will be grave if I do.

She doesn’t deserve this. None of us do.

“I can’t sell her like this. Take her back to one of the cells. If she’s still alive come the next auction, we can sell her then, but the difference is coming out of your paycheck, idiot.”

He dismisses her like she is worth less than the dirt beneath our feet.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. The Rick guy grabs her by the arm, his thick fingers dig into her skin, and she cries out. He starts to drag her away, and my throat tightens when her eyes meet mine.

Fear and just overall sadness reflect back at me. I knew she was scared, knew she wanted to go home, but all she had to do was make it through tonight. Then she could’ve made a run for it and escaped. Now, I feel she’ll never escape, and that leaves my heart bleeding.

I’m dragged from my dreadful thoughts when a man’s voice comes over the speakers announcing the start of the event.

“Gentlemen, can I have your attention, please. Our auction will begin momentarily. Tonight, we only have four girls for sale, but believe me, it’s quality over quantity. Enjoy, and may the highest bidder win.”

The sound vibrates through me, and the words hit their mark dead on. It’s now my turn to start shaking, the fear almost overwhelming me.

Four men walk into the little room we’re in a second later. They gawk at us, slimy smiles on their faces, and you can basically see the wheels turning in their heads. If given the chance, they would take from us right now. Without blinking their eyes or caring. Each one takes a girl. The guy I get walks over to me and grabs the chain connecting my collar with my hands, tugging me forward and off-balance.

“You’re lucky you’re a virgin because if you weren’t…” He licks his lips and drags his gaze down my body. When he speaks next, he’s leaning into my face while I lean back, trying to put as much distance as I can between us. “I would have fucked you good before sending you off.” His rancid breath fans against my cheek, and I have to stop myself from puking, swallowing the bile in my throat.

The darkness in his beady eyes tells me he isn’t lying, and the pressure of the collar on my neck becomes tighter as I try to escape him.

“A little fucking slut, that’s all you are. A fuck toy.” He tugs me out of the room. In that singular moment, I question if I can do this without losing myself. I know I’m strong, but how strong do I have to be to survive this? If I ever do escape this mess, will I be the same person I was before?

I already know the answer is no. Whatever is going to happen, I don’t think I will ever be the same. I will never again be the college student whose biggest concern is her grades. I will never be the careless daughter who gets annoyed by her mother calling twice in one day. And I will never be the little sister who is jealous of her sibling getting to travel the world.

Yes, I know I will never be me again. The real question is, who will I be after this?

That question lingers in my mind as I’m led out onto a stage like a dog. The shining bright lights above make it hard to see anything, but I can hear the hollers and catcalls nearby. Feel eyes on every inch of my exposed skin. My lips start to tremble, and I squint against the harsh glare of the lights, looking for an escape, a way out.

There is none.

As my eyes adjust to the brightness, I scan the crowd, over the men eager to get their pound of flesh. In the midst of all the chaos around me, my gaze clashes with that of a man across the room. The world stops. My lungs expand, and a different kind of fear grabs onto me. Its claws sink deep into my skin.

He’s a man with eyes as dark as the night, and a soul that’s just as dark.2MarkusA ghost. That’s what I see when I spot her on the auction block. The spitting image of a girl I once knew, once loved. The air expels from my chest, and I almost drop the drink I’m holding in my hand. The voices and movements around me become silent.