Page 2

CHAPTER 1

KIM , PRESENT DAY

A wareness was unwanted.

I had no idea why, but my mind told me to stay asleep just a little longer. In all the years I'd had to learn how to live with myself, live with my childhood, and face my fears to model, I learned to trust my instincts.

So I kept my lids closed, my breathing slow.

Then other things came into focus.

The drip of water. It wasn't close, but the dollop of sound echoed back to me as if I were in a windowless room. A cave or basement.

My heart fluttered as I stretched my neck. The floor was hard underneath me. Gritty. The earthy smell of damp and musty soil tickled my nose.

The possibilities of where I was narrowed. The reasons this could even be happening were also shrinking.

What happened?

Keeping my eyes closed, just in case someone was here, I pushed against that foggy part of my brain. What was I doing? Where was I?

The memory felt so close, but the more I probed, the harder breathing became. I hadn't even accessed it and now my body was flush with heat as sweat broke out over my lower back.

I was taken. My biggest fear. My worst nightmare.

I was living it.

A whimper slipped out as my fingers involuntarily twitched, scratching against a chain. Unable to pretend anymore, I gasped at the same time I opened my eyes.

I remembered.

We were supposed to steal a statue for Parker. We were in line for the show. But our car never stopped. Why even head to the show? I–

"Beasty," I half-croaked, half-cried. She had been next to me, her eyes drooping even as alarm flashed through them. She had some awareness about what was happening before we passed out.

My vision blurred, and there wasn't much light. But there was enough to highlight a rickety wooden staircase coming from the ceiling. The sickly orange glow from the top of the stairs cast long, threatening shadows. An image straight out of any horror fan art.

"Beasty," I tried again, this time my voice was strong as I rolled over.

Metal clinked together, and something bunched under my ass. Angling my head to get a better view, I groaned. I was chained up.

Another sound broke through my haze. Across the basement–or cellar?–Lake leaned back against the wall with his hands hung up on a hook above his head.

"Lake!" There was barely any light in that corner of the room, but that was him. I'd recognize the shape of his body anywhere. "Lake." It was a near sob.

He didn't move, but now that I listened for it, I could hear his breathing.

"Joaquin? Atlas?" I tried to sit up, but a dose of nausea rolled through my stomach, and I flopped back. My head bounced off the floor.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening." I managed to bring my hands to my face. The heavy chain slid over my chest, making me feel more trapped than I already was.

I couldn't pull in a full breath as snot clogged my nose and fear lodged in my throat.

"Lake? Atlas? Joaquin?" I swallowed hard, not wanting to voice the next name. If she was here, it would kill me. I couldn't see her like this. I'd die on the inside, knowing she was here because of us. "Beasty?" I whimpered.

In the other corner of the room, behind the staircase, another chain rattled.

"Beasty?" I curled up, grunting as my muscles screamed from the movement. Whatever they drugged us with was playing hell on my body, but I managed to get to a sitting position.

"No." The voice was mostly air and sand. A whisper through the trees. Yet, I'd know it anywhere.

"Atlas!" I crawled toward the corner, then the chain jerked, and I halted. Grabbing the rusted-out metal, I yanked on it as hard as I could but it didn't budge. "We've been taken. Is Beasty by you?"

"I know." He sounded half asleep. "I remember." There was more rustling mixed in with the metal clinking together. "Beasty isn't over here. Joaquin!" he yelled.

"Shut up," Joaquin grumbled close to me.

How had I missed Joaquin? Spinning, I changed directions.

There was a subtle glow from a rectangular window at the top of the wall. The ceiling was low. If we could get Lake out of chains and awake, he could reach it.

"Joaquin!" I hit his dress loafer. Wrapping my fingers around his ankle, I sobbed in relief. I could hear them, but touching one of them loosened a tiny knot inside my chest. Not that it did much good. There were a thousand minuscule stress knots, the biggest one centering around Beasty.

"Is Beasty on the other side of you?" I shook his leg. My chain was stretched as far as it would go or I'd check myself.

Joaquin scrubbed a hand over his face just like he would at home.

He froze.

Our reality was hitting him.

With quicker reflexes than I had, he pushed himself off the ground. It didn't last long before he started to hack. Twisting, he dry heaved, but there was nothing in his stomach except bile.

"Whatever they gave us makes us nauseous. It'll wear off soon." My nausea was already gone, leaving me empty and shaky. I'd almost rather be sick. The pain and discomfort would be a distraction.

"Is Beasty over there?" I pleaded. I just needed to know where she was.

I didn't want her here, but I needed to know she was okay. I needed to lay eyes on her.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lake!

"I can't find Beasty," I wailed. I didn't want to lose it, but every second that went by, the more control was a distant memory. Wheezing, I brought my knees up to my chest.

I was giving up. That was all it took for me to curl in on myself. Pathetic.

"Where's Beasty?" Atlas called.

"She's not by me or Kim." Joaquin returned, coming back to himself.

Chains snapping together sounded like a bomb going off as Lake cursed. He was trying to break himself free. He had the best chance and could stand the pain longer than any of us.

Beasty had been gorgeous tonight. Yesterday? There was no concept of time here.

Just like there'd been no concept of time in the house in the woods.

"Breathe, Kim." Joaquin was close. Closer than he had been a few minutes ago, but he didn't touch me. "Come on, take a deep breath in." He mimicked the action he wanted me to do.

I tried. God, I tried. Except every half-second, my airways would close, making the inhale a stuttering mess before I had to exhale.

Our wild, fierce Beasty was here somewhere in the dirt. Passed out at best. Death was an option I didn't want to even put in my head…Yet there was a far worse scenario.

She was dirty now. Just like us.

I hiccuped. We were literally in a dirt cellar. Somewhere Beasty should never be. Maybe she'd gotten free. I passed out first. Maybe the window had blown out and she'd been ejected.

I almost said by aliens , but I stopped that thought in its tracks. I needed a believable lie.

Beasty crawled out. The driver didn't see her, then she left without looking back. She could live out her life on a beach since Joaquin set up a trust fund for her. One of the Network people would find her and tell her how to access it.

If we died, she'd never have to do anything she didn't want to again. She was our sole beneficiary and had been since she was with us the first time. Maybe then she'd accept our money.

"Kim!" Joaquin gripped my shoulder. "Get it together, Kim! We're going to get out of here."

"Without Beasty?" I canted my head, searching through the darkness to see his expression. The growing light through the window helped.

His lips pressed firmly shut, and his hair that had been stylishly combed back, now fell in his face, making him look younger.

"I don't know." It was the best he could do. I didn't blame him. Joaquin was just as bad of a liar as he was with his poker face...Outside of the game anyway.

"Where the fuck is she?" Lake ground out, growling as he continued to work on his chains.

"Don't tear up your wrists," Atlas warned from his corner. "I can see from here you're on a hook."

"Who took us? Does anyone know?" Lake ignored Atlas. Working the chains was two-fold. Not only was he trying to get free, but the pain was comforting to him. It always had been. Especially when–

"No." I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath.

Go away, go away, go away, I chanted–no, screamed–at the memories trying to break free from the cage I'd locked them in years ago.

"It's okay." Joaquin didn't even sound like he believed himself.

"I swear to God, if we don't find Beasty..." Atlas was good at threats. But the cold anger he was best at was gone. In its place was a frantic anger so bright, it was tinged with desperation and terror.

I didn't want to voice it. Yet, I had to. "You think–"

"No!" Joaquin yelled. "We're not going there. We know, or reasonably suspect given how far this asshole has us spaced apart, that Beasty isn't here."

"It's the goddamn Pescis," Lake growled, stopping his efforts to escape as he caught his breath. "It has to be."

"Donnie was the one who spoke to the reporter." Atlas' chain rattled and it sounded like he was trying to come closer.

"Let me think," Joaquin said to himself as he sat back. "Statistically, it has to be the Pescis. How you sent Stevo’s head back was a slap in the face. They have to retaliate for appearance’s sake if nothing else, and we’ve blocked their every attempt to get to Beasty.” He pulled in a shaky breath. “The only other person it could be would be that bitch designer, Valencia, but she doesn't have the right connections or resources to pull this off. Nor would she have found out what we did to her," he spoke so low he had to be talking only to himself.

"That doesn't do us any fucking good right now,” Lake grunted as he yanked against his chains one more time.

A floorboard creaked overhead and we all froze.

My heart skipped five beats. This was our sign. The warning that bad things were coming.

In the house in the woods, it was the crunch of gravel. Now we have a different sign, a different captor. But would our treatment be any different?

Shivers wracked my body as the doorknob twisted, making so much noise, it had to be dented and rusted. As the door at the top of the stairs swung open, a smell wafted down.

It was faint, and it took a second for the smell to register.

"No," I groaned. Not that. Anything but that.

Spicy chai permeated the air as a man whistled, taking his time in the doorway. Was he listening to see if we were talking?

Chai was my favorite drink. After this? If we made it out...I'd never be able to touch the stuff again. Already the memory burrowed so strong in my mind with little tether hooks.

There was a snick, then a lightbulb hanging overhead flicked on. I squinted against the brightness, then checked for Beasty. The cellar was empty, except for us.

Lake was chained both around the chest and hands, which were hooked above his head. Atlas by the wrists, his short chain attached to the wall. Joaquin next to me was hooked to the wall by an ankle cuff.

Then there was mine. One cuff around my right wrist.

No Beasty. Only us four, just the way it had been before we met her. That meant she was upstairs.

I knew what happened when you were left alone with the monster. A sob built in my chest. She wasn't here.

She was upstairs being defiled while we were down here, helpless to do anything to save her. That, or she was dead. Either way, I'd never recover.

This memory would forever be wrapped up in the scent of chai.