Page 177 of Beautifully Ruined

“Hey.”

I touch her arm again, this time keeping my hand there, like I can send her silent strength and support. But she doesn’t pull away, and I think she needs human contact. Kind human contact.

Something that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

I don’t try to hold her hand or do more than I’m doing. Not yet. Small steps are needed. I just let her get used to me.

“What happened?” I ask her gently. “How did you end up in this situation? You’ve been gone so long.”

She doesn’t speak for long moments, but finally, Gianna speaks.

“You know, I’ve been drugged for so long. When you spoke to me I thought…I thought I imagined you. I was still out of it, coming down from whatever they gave me.” She looks at her arm where the marks are. Marks that make her look like a hardcore addict.

And she’s skinny. Too skinny.

But she’s still beautiful. She takes after her mom, I think. More than her dad, but even too skinny, she’s lovely, and the silk dress she’s in is short, and it makes her look like a supermodel in her build. She’s taller than me, and I don’t even want to think what they do with her.

I can see her being sold, because there are men who want a girl like her, that young girl look with a skinny body, but long limbed and…

I stop.

Because I don’t know if she’s a virgin, and I’m not even sure how much that matters, but I’m sure she’s been used and abused by men. And I’m thinking if any of the guards she’s been in the hands of have had her. I’m thinking they won’t go for her pussy.

That’s prime real estate.

“I’m glad for the drugs. There were times when…let’s say I prefer the dream like state. I prefer being out of it for when I’m the star.” She closes her eyes and swallows hard.

The bile shifts and heaves in me, along with my stomach, and acid burns my throat.

“But I don’t want to be here at all. I want…I want to be free.” Now she opens her eyes and looks at me. “Do you think that’s going to happen? I don’t know how much I can take.”

“What happened for you to end up here?”

She grits her teeth. “I discovered my father…” Gianna shakes her head as her voice grows hard. “I discovered he had some very disturbing kinks. The kind that would end his marriage and his career. It’s why I went to the club…I can’t remember the name…with my friend, Macy, all those months ago. I wanted proof. I didn’t care about his career. I cared about my mom.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. My dad apparently owed a fortune to a Russian mobster…the guy who most likely had me when we spoke. I’ve changed hands a few times, so…” She shrugs. “The Russian was there that night. And he took me as appropriate payment.”

“And what? Your dad’s trying to get you back?” It’s lip service. I know that.

Her father’s a monster, but if I can spare her that for now, I’ll do it. Happily. Let her think her father let her down by being crooked and having wild and destructive kinks. I want to ask what, but I also don’t want to know.

“I think it’s pretty obvious my father decided to save himself and his reputation and career and marriage to me. He kept the truth to himself. Or else why wouldn’t the FBI have broken the city apart to find me? We’re still in New York City, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“But here, in this place specifically? I don’t know where I am. I was with…some man…last night? Today?” She looks down. “I was wearing this and then everything blurry, I don’t remember what happened.”

I reach for her hand now and take it. Gianna flinches but doesn’t pull free, and I give her what I hope is a reassuring squeeze. “I think it’s okay not to remember, just like I think it’s okay if you do. And it’s okay not to be okay.”

“Violet? It’s Violet, right?”

“You can call me Vi.”

She offers a watery smile. “I like Violet. Vi’s nice, too, though.”

“It’s what my friends call me.”