~*~*~*~

THEN - Pippa

I’m trying to breathe through my mouth as much as I can, trying not to smell the rotting corpses still hanging from the fence. I’m trying to ignore the birds and wildlife picking at their flesh, as if they’re no more than scrap meat. I’m trying not to look, because if I look it will destroy me. Something inside my body is shutting down. Day by day, I’m shrinking into myself.

Day after day, we work. Night after night, we fall into exhaustion. I’m skinny, so skinny the rags I’m wearing no longer stay up. I’ve had to find an old piece of rope to tie them together so I don’t have to walk around naked. My hair is ratty and tangled, and I know how awful I look. Rainer has lost a lot of weight—his muscle tone is deteriorating, just like mine.

When our workday is done and we’re able to be moved from the dead bodies, Rainer and I walk side by side as we’re led back to our rooms. This week, Artreau moved some of the slaves, and now there are only four of us in this room. It makes for more shower time and a little more rest. Some of the slaves have nightmares, screaming and thrashing through the night. It makes it hard to sleep.

Rainer and I take turns showering, and then silently eat the stale bread and water slid into our room. I crawl into bed after I’ve finished and face the wall. No words have been spoken between us today. We’re both in shock from the latest events, and the bodies still hanging lifelessly from the fence.

My bed dips about fifteen minutes into my resting, and I jerk, but relax when Rainer whispers into my ear, “Don’t close down on me, Pip. We’re all that’s left for each other in this place. If you shut down on me, I won’t survive.” He tucks his arm around my waist and pulls me back into his chest. “Hang in there with me, okay? One day, this will all be over.”

I snuggle back into him. “How did you get here, Rainer?” I ask in a croaky voice.

He sighs. “Drug deal gone wrong.”

“You do drugs?” I gasp.

“Nah, I was selling them. Call me a difficult man. I got involved with the wrong people when I was young, took drugs, sold drugs, got into debt. I turned to a bigger dealer and started selling overseas. I decided I wanted to stop, decided I was done, but I had a debt that was owed. The dealer wanted the money. So he sold me.”

“He didn’t just kill you?”

He chuckles softly. “No, he was smart. If he killed me, he wouldn’t get his money. So, he sold me to someone who would pay him for me. He got his money and I ended up here.”

“How did they manage to sell a big man like you?”

“They drugged me.” He shrugs, tucking me closer.

“Do you ever wonder about anyone else here?”

He nods behind me, and his chin hits the back of my head. “Yeah, especially the older guys. I wonder what they did to get themselves here. And the young ones—that’s interesting.”

“I wasn’t very old when I got here.”

“No, you weren’t. Why did you end up here?”

I swallow. “I’m not sure, to be honest. My sister and I, we lost our parents when we were young. We got sent to a foster family that wasn’t so good. Tana got me away from our foster father and we lived on the streets for a while, and then a man named Kennedy took us in. He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn’t good either. My sister started acting weird, taking drugs with him. Then one night, she went somewhere and didn’t come back. Suddenly, I was being taken by Artreau and his men. And here I am.”

“That sucks, Pip,” he murmurs.

“Yeah. I was terrified.”

“I can imagine. It was hard enough for me, but you . . . so young . . .”

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here, Rainer?”

He squeezes me again. “I swear to you, Pippa . . . one day, we’ll be free.”

I hope so.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NOW - Pippa

I take another burning drink of the vodka I found in a wine cabinet. Santana put it here because she said it’s too tempting otherwise. I don’t know how old it is, and I don’t care. I’ve never had alcohol in my life—well, never more than a mere sip. Now, with my chest burning the way it is, I need more than just a good cry. Everyone else has alcohol when they’re down, so why shouldn’t I?

It’s working, but then it’s not.

My mind is fuzzy, but it’s making me cry harder.

I’m sitting against my front door, as if that will stop anyone coming back in. I don’t know if I regret yelling at Tyke, or if I’m feeling bad out of guilt. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I certainly don’t want to lose him. I love him; I’ve always loved him. But I won’t be a pity case any longer. I’m trying to be normal, to live a normal life, and to do that I have to stop letting people treat me like I’m about to break.

My phone, on the coffee table beside the door, buzzes. I turn and glance at it. Then, with a wobbly hand, I reach over and snatch it up. I have four text messages, two missed calls and one voicemail. It was on silent, and I obviously didn’t notice it ringing. I open the text messages first. One from Tyke, two from Rainer and one from Santana.

Santana: Tyke called me. Honey, we’re coming over.

No.

I don’t want them to come over.

Rainer: – Hey Pip. Just checking in, how are you?

Rainer: I’m free tonight, if you want to catch up?

Tyke: I fucked up. There are no words, Pip. I can’t talk to you, and I understand you want time. I won’t say what needs to be said over a phone, but I will ask one thing . . . wait for me, little one. Give me a chance to tell you what needs to be said. If you can give me one last thing, give me that.