Page 9

CHAPTER 8

AURORA

“Are you sure you feel up to coming tonight, baby girl?” Dad asks for the fourth time.

We’re in the back of the limousine with my stepmother, Vera, riding to the annual State Dinner in Washington, D.C. Normally, I don’t attend these, but this year, my dad is being honored for his service. I took an extra Xanax and gave myself a pep talk before getting dressed for the evening. It’s been a week since my lunch with Hugh, and the first time I’ve been around this many people since before I was taken.

Vera clings to Dad’s arm. “Of course, she feels like coming, don’t you, dear?”

She’s wearing a beautiful sequined lavender gown with a deep v-neck that highlights her flawless porcelain skin and pale blonde hair.

“I want to be here, Dad,” I confirm. “It’ll be exciting to eat a nice meal for once.”

Dad chuckles. “So, you’re just here for the free meal and not to see your old man get a service achievement award.”

“Oh, is that what this is for?” I joke.

“Brat.”

Vera clears her throat. “Why didn’t you wear the dress I sent over, Aurora?”

I lock eyes with her. I can’t believe she has the audacity to even ask me that. Vera is nice, but she is very obtuse. She buries her head in the sand when bad things occur, thinking that if she doesn’t allow herself to hear them, they don’t actually happen. She made no effort to come and visit me in the hospital, and when I was finally released, she told me she was glad I recovered from my tragic accident. Like I got hit by a car or something.

The dress she sent over was emerald green and absolutely gorgeous and, in another life, I would’ve worn it. It’s a silky halter with a slit that goes up mid-thigh and completely backless. Instead, I opted for a modest black cocktail dress that stops below my knee with lace sleeves. It took everything I had and a phone call with Jessa to keep me from dressing in sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“Willow saw it and practically begged me to let her wear it on her date,” I lie. “She was going to an opera with someone.”

“That was nice of you to let her use it,” Dad says.

“You didn’t wear your hair up,” Vera whines.

I roll my eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“Let’s not talk about any unpleasantness tonight, dear,” she says dismissively like I was the one to bring it up.

Dad pats her knee and gives me a sympathetic smile. We continue the rest of the ride in silence.

The closer we get to the venue, the harder my heart pounds in my chest. Cold sweats break out beneath the fabric of my dress. For once, I’m thankful for those extra swipes of deodorant and that I wore all black so no one can see any sweat stains I might have. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and count to ten as we pull to the curb. When I open them, Dad’s brows are drawn together in concern. I give him a weak smile as the door is opened by our driver.

Dad squeezes my shoulder as he helps Vera out of the limo. I steel my spine, and with one last deep inhale, I clasp my father’s hand and let him pull me out onto the sidewalk. My dad steps in between Vera and me, offering us each an arm. He escorts us toward the reception hall while I keep my head down until we are safely within the building.

The venue has outdone itself. The opulent ballroom sparkles with crystal chandeliers, and black tablecloths and gold accents decorate the tables. Even the plates and napkins are gold, and a beautiful golden sculpture of an eagle grasping an American flag in its talons is the centerpiece.

There’s a twelve-piece orchestra set up to the right of the stage and a dance floor where couples are already swaying to the music. A full bar is in the back of the room, and a small line has already started to form.

Vera gestures toward the line. “Shall we go ahead and get our drinks?”

Dad looks at me. “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure,” I answer. “A glass of champagne would be nice.”

“Well… well… well,” a booming voice says behind us. “They’ll let any ol’ riff-raff in the door.”

My dad laughs. “Senator Briggs,” he greets. “Good to see you. You remember my wife, Vera, and my daughter, Aurora.”

Vera holds out her hand. “How lovely to see you again, Senator.”

“None of that Senator nonsense,” he dismisses, lifting her hand and kissing it. “Call me Tim.” He turns to me. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your daughter.”

The way the senator says pleasure sends chills down my spine and not the good kind of chills. The kind that makes me want to find a dark corner and hide. Something about his voice tugs at the back of my brain, but for the life of me, I’m drawing a blank.

I want no part of this man touching me, but I also don’t want to embarrass my father, so I hold out my hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you, Senator Briggs.”

The senator’s eyes rake over my body as he snatches my hand and brings it toward his lips. I gently tug my hand back, but not before my eyes latch onto the scar that looms just under the collar of his shirt. I take a step back, and that’s when I notice the same scar on his wrist peeking out under the cuff of his shirt.

“Call me Tim,” he says, his lips curving up into a crude smile.

“General Parks… Vera,” another guest beckons from across the room. “Come and meet Senator Dyson and his wife.”

“Go on ahead,” Tim insists. “I’ll escort Aurora to your table.”

Dad shakes his head. “I think we be?—”

“Sweetheart, our table is right there,” Vera points out. “Surely, the senator, I mean Tim, can accompany Aurora to her seat. We’ll be right behind them.”

I’m frozen, too scared to speak. The blood in my veins turns to ice. I want to shout to anyone who will listen that the man standing here is a fraud and isn’t who they think he is. I feel the stupid fake-ass smile still plastered on my face. My dad must take that as I’m fine to leave me here with Tim as my chaperone because he leans over and kisses my cheek.

“We’ll join you in a few minutes.” Dad grabs Vera’s hand, and they make their way through a sea of people.

“Tsk… Tsk… Tsk,” Tim leans close to my ear. “Dmitri is very upset with you, pet.”

I shudder as his breath tickles my ear. He’s too close, but with the orchestra playing and the mountains of people gathering, to anyone looking at us it would appear we are just engaged in a friendly conversation.

“I don’t know who yo?—”

In a bone-crushing move, Tim grips my elbow and pulls me into his side. “Now, now. We wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would we?” he asks, condescendingly.

I shake my head as Tim leads me deeper into the crowd, keeping his mouth close to my ear. He casually rubs his nose along the side of my face, sniffing my perfume.

“Still as intoxicating as ever, pet,” he coos. “I must say, I was a little disappointed when Dmitri told us you were being shipped off to Ukraine, but now that you’re back, I might have to make sure the Krukov family keeps you around.”

My steps falter, and the only thing keeping me from falling to the ground are the fingers digging into my arm. “I-I-I’m not go?—”

Tim laughs. “Oh, my dear, you delight an old man with your stories,” he announces as he pulls out my chair. He leans in close one last time. “Make no mistake, pet, now that we know where you are… we are coming for you. There’s nowhere you can run. You’ll never be safe.” He stands to his full height. “It was such a delight to meet you, Aurora. Until next time.” He waves to the rest of the table. “Ladies, gentlemen… have a good evening.”

“Senator Briggs,” they all acknowledge.

“My dear, are you alright?” a kind lady next to me asks. “You look awfully pale.”

Not trusting my voice, all I can do is nod. I fidget with my clutch to distract myself from my churning stomach and tightening chest. The longer I sit and wait for them to arrive, the more anxious I get. I glance around the room quickly to see if I can spot them. My dad and Vera are still engaged in the same conversation, but Tim has his back to me.

I push back from the table quickly, almost knocking over a glass of water. “I’m so sorry.” I apologize. “Excuse me for a moment.”

I rush out of the ballroom and dip into the first restroom that I can find. I don’t breathe easier until I’m behind the locked door.

I have to get out of here. Don’t think… Run.

I yank my phone out of my clutch and search flights leaving D.C. to take me back home to Boston. There’s a flight leaving in three hours I can easily catch. Next, I book an Uber. Luck is on my side so far as there is a driver two blocks away who can pick me up in five minutes. I open the bathroom door and step into the hall cautiously, swiveling my head from side to side as I make my way outside.

The Uber driver pulls up a moment later. I verify her name with the name on my app before I slide into the backseat and give her the name of the hotel we’re staying at. I type out a quick text as we pull away from the reception.

Me: I had to leave. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you

Dad: I was looking for you. Are you okay?

Me: I’m fine. Tired.

Dad: Are you sure? We’ll head back as soon as the awards are done

Me: No, you guys have fun. Seriously, Dad I’m fine. I’ll probably just watch tv and take a bath. Go to bed early

Dad: If you’re sure

Me: You deserve this, have fun. Love you

Dad: Love you, baby girl

We pull up to the hotel, and I hesitate to get out. Fear shakes me to my core, and suddenly, I wonder if I was followed. I have everything I need to get on the plane in my purse, and my car is parked at the terminal in Boston since I flew into D.C. Whatever is up in the hotel room can be replaced. It’s not worth the risk.

“On second thought,” I say. “Can you drop me off at the airport? American Airlines terminal, please.”

“That’ll be extra,” the driver replies.

“I know. My card’s on file.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m in line at the counter to get my ticket. The tightening in my chest recedes once I’m in the air and even more when I land in Boston. I parked close to the terminal and a guard shack for my own comfort, but it still doesn’t stop me from glancing around to see if anyone is following me.

When I get home, I wave to Gill, the security guard, as I wait for the elevator to take me up to my apartment. Once I’m behind my locked door, I unravel. I slide down to the carpet in a heap and scream at the injustice of it all as the floodgates of memories open and assault me.

The platform spins slowly as I’m chained like a dog. My knees are bent, and my ass is resting on my legs which are spread wide for everyone to see my nakedness, and my ankles are shackled to the ground so I can’t move. My wrists are handcuffed behind my back and also connected to my ankles, forcing my chest out. My muscles protest, but there’s nothing I can do. A ball gag in my mouth keeps me from crying out. Tears run down my face, and goosebumps form all over my body from the cold.

“Gentlemen.” Dmitri’s voice fills the room. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. This will be her only time on the auction block. I’m the only one who has sampled the merchandise… And I must say, Aurora’s as delicious as she looks.”

“You’re only going to let one of us have a go at her?” someone shouts angrily.

“Now, now,” Dmitri chides. “You all know me better than that. For the right price, I’m willing to let a number of you try her out.”

“How much?” another voice shouts.

Dmitri laughs. “If you’re asking how much, you shouldn’t be here. Oleg, get him out of here.”

Bang. Bang.

“Any other stupid questions?” Dmitri asks, stepping out of the shadows and onto the platform. He bends down and twists my nipples hard. I scream past the gag. “Do you see how responsive she is?”

“One million,” a deep voice calls.

Sobs wrack my body, but my shackles keep me firmly in place. Dmitri brushes my hair away from my face. “Sold!” He bends over and licks my tears. “I’m going to enjoy watching them break you,” he whispers.

Oleg disconnects my wrists from my ankles, letting my body slump forward. He unchains my ankles from the stage and throws me over his shoulders, keeping a pair of handcuffs around my ankles and wrists. I learned quickly the first day, it doesn’t do any good to fight. I’ll bide my time, find a hole in their security, and run like Lace did.

Oleg drops me on the ground. “Be a good pet,” he orders before connecting my wrists to my ankles again. He spins on his heel and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

Bound as I am, I can’t move. I look around, and my heart begins to race as pure terror washes over me. I pull at my restraints, but the metal is unforgiving, and something wet begins to drip down my foot. I close my eyes and pinch myself, praying this is all just a nightmare.

The walls are lined with different whips, crops, and canes. There’s a cross with restraints leaning on the other side of the room, and there are several different benches placed all around. It looks like a BDSM torture chamber.

The door flies open, and five men enter. I tremble as they surround my naked body.

“This will never do.” One of the men removes the ball gag. I recognize the voice as the one who paid the million dollars. “We want to hear your screams.”

I whimper and attempt to flinch away, but it's futile since I can’t move. They all begin to strip off their suits. I try to memorize something about each of them so when I get out of this situation, I have something to tell the police, but there isn’t anything special for my memory to latch onto. Except for the man standing directly in front of me, they’re all typical middle-aged men. Noting the burn scars on the entire right side of his body, I realize he’s the only one I’ll probably have luck with remembering.

“Look, Briggs.” One points to something behind my back. “She started without us.”

“Naughty, pet. We’re the only ones allowed to make you bleed,” Briggs scolds. “Jameson, turn on the cameras. Dmitri wants a show, and we’re going to give him one.”

The man he called Jameson jogs over by the door and hits a button on the wall. Red lights start flashing around the room.

“Uncuff her and strap her down,” Briggs orders, pointing to a bench in the middle of the room.

“No… no… please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “You can’t do this… Please, don’t.”

“Shhh.” Briggs strokes my head. “It doesn’t do any good to beg.”

“I want her cunt,” Jameson cackles as he unsnaps the lock on the handcuffs on my wrists, separating them from my ankles.

Fuck this, I’m going down swinging.

My fight-or-flight instincts take over, and I whip my head back hard into Jameson’s face. I smirk when I hear a satisfying crunch, but it’s short-lived when a fist connects with my cheek and dark spots dance in my vision. I’m airborne before I can stop it, and thrown down on my stomach, hard. The wind is knocked out of me, and I gasp for breath as my arms and legs are pulled tight and once again restrained.

“That fucking bitch broke my nose!” Jameson screams.

I know I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help it when the corners of my mouth tip upward.

Briggs stands in front of me and grabs a fistful of my hair, causing me to cry out. “It won’t be so funny for long,” he taunts. “Potts!”

I can’t turn my head to see what’s going on because Briggs still has a hold of my hair, I hear the crack before the pain registers. Fire spreads across my back and thighs. I scream until my voice is hoarse.

“Enough!” Briggs shouts. “We want our pet conscious for all the fun we have planned.”

The men around me laugh sinisterly.

“Her pussy is mine,” Jameson demands.

“Potts, you can have her mouth first, then Tyson, and Dows,” Briggs commands. Briggs kneels in front of me. “Has anyone ever taken your ass, pet?”

My eyes widen in fear. I shake my head vigorously.

Briggs smiles evilly. “That’s about to change.”

Potts steps up to my face and smacks my cheek with his dick. “Open, pet,” he orders. “But if you even think about biting, I will have Dmitri bring me someone even younger, force you to watch, and then start cutting off body parts to send to your family. Do you understand?”

My eyes widen in fear. “Ye ? —”

He slams his cock into the back of my throat. I gag and try to pull away. He fists my hair and thrusts forcefully until his movements become erratic, and he erupts in my mouth.

“Swallow!” he commands. I shake my head. “Briggs, I think we should try the cattle prod.”

I gulp. Potts pulls free, and I barely have time to gasp for breath before the next man pushes his way past my lips.

“That’s it, pet. Suck my fat cock.”

Jameson slams into me from behind, and the man in my mouth groans, increasing his speed. The onslaught continues, and I lose track of time as I’m raped over and over again. Just when I think it’s over and my body is covered in cum and bruises, Briggs steps forward.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, pet?” he snarls.

Briggs runs his hands down my back and glides them over my buttocks, pulling apart my ass cheeks. “Gather around, gentlemen.”

“No more, please,” I cry, my voice barely audible.

He slams into me without any prep and without warning. I scream, and then darkness overtakes me.

My living room comes back into focus. I blink several times and take some deep breaths before I stand on shaky legs and drag myself to the bathroom. Placing my hands on the sink, I stare at my reflection. A hollow shell stares back at me. This apartment, working from home… It’s nothing but a false sense of security.

Briggs’ words play on repeat in my head.

Now that we know where you are… we are coming for you. There’s nowhere you can run. You’ll never be safe.

He’s right. I’ll never be safe. Jaxson and his team are out saving the world, as they should be. No one is ever going to believe that a senator is caught up in a sex trafficking ring without proof, either. If I go forward, it paints a target on my back and will ruin my father’s career, but I can’t let myself be captured again.

Yanking open the medicine cabinet, my eyes roam over the bottles. I grab the leftover Percocet from when I had broken ribs, and the Xanax and Ambien that Jessa prescribed. I have about six Percocet left and half a bottle each of the others.

I scramble into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, twisting off the top. Then I toss back a few pills at a time until they’re all gone. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, I write a quick note:

Dad,

I love you so much. You mean the world to me and are the best dad in the world. Forgive me.

Love,

Aurora

My head starts spinning, and I sway on my feet. Using the wall for balance, I make my way into my bedroom. I barely make it to my bed when I tumble forward and hit the mattress.

Peace washes over me, and I fade into nothingness. I no longer need to cling to the edge of desperation.