Page 5 of Love Me in the Dark

Now? I wish she didn’t exist.

“What were you thinking?” I’m gritting my teeth so hard I can barely get the words out. I could kill her for this, for destroying my plans. “What, did you think you could stroll out of here? You couldn’t make it out at two in the morning when you weren’t considered a threat. You think they would let you escape now when you’re being held before the delivery? How stupid can you be?”

“Please… don’t hurt me.” She covers her face with her hands, and the sight of her trembling body makes me regret some of my anger. She’s just as screwed as I am, trying to get herself out of an impossible situation.

No. Don’t.I can’t afford to feel sorry for her because it isn’t her life I care about. It isn’t even my own life that matters.

At least Tristan is too young to understand what’s happening. He doesn’t see this place for what it is; he is only eight years old and clueless. He’s never considered questioning why things are the way they are. Why we’re not allowed to talk to the women. Why somebody is always watching.

And he doesn’t even know the half of it. He doesn’t see what goes on behind closed doors. He doesn’t hear the elders talking.

I was so close to getting him out of here.

Dad’s out in the hallway, shuffling around and cursing to himself. Useless. The reason we’re here. Because he’s too weak to live out in the real world, and Rebecca will give him what he needs. She holds his addiction over his head and uses it to make him do whatever she wants, including this.

I hate him. I hate myself for not leaving sooner. For thinking I had time.

“Please…” She shakes her head, still sobbing. “Help me. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can stop crying, for one thing.” She flinches at my sharp voice, and guilt stabs me in the chest. She doesn’t need this from me. Who am I turning into? I’m no better than Dad, basically bullying her when she’s obviously at the end of her rope. Is that who I’m becoming? Or is it who I already am?

Her head snaps up, red-rimmed eyes boring holes into me. “Oh, so you can actually speak? Good to know. All it took was me getting mauled by your father for you to find your voice.”

“Could you try to lower yours?” I whisper, turning my head toward the door to listen. There’s no sound now. He probably went back into his room so he can drink himself to death in peace.

“What is happening? What did she mean, delivery? What’s going to happen to me? Do you know anything? Please, Elijah.”

I haven’t heard a girl say my name since we came here. Rebecca doesn’t count, of course. It shouldn’t affect me the way it does, but for the first time in a long time, the tightness that’s always in my chest loosens a little bit. I can breathe. I can remember what life was like before we came here. Before Dad reached rock bottom. That’s where she found him, at rock bottom, trying to pawn the last few valuables we had so he could buy a bottle of vodka. He considered her our salvation, our lucky break. What a sick joke.

“You really don’t know anything?”

“They don’t tell us things. You know that.” She swipes her hands under her eyes—a quick, fierce gesture. “Why aren’t we allowed to leave if we want to? What is really happening here? You can’t tell me you don’t know.”

What harm could it do? If anything, she deserves to know what’s about to happen to her.

I take a seat on the foot of the bed, elbows resting on my thighs and my eyes trained on the floor. I can’t look at her. I can’t see the light leave her dark eyes when she hears.

“This place isn’t what it seems.”

“I figured that much out myself. Why do you think I was trying to leave?”

“But it’s worse than you think. Trust me.” When all she does is snicker like she doesn’t believe me, I snap, “It’s a trafficking ring. That’s what it really is. That’s how Rebecca gets the money for this place. She sells people.”

She’s silent for so long, not even breathing, that I finally have to look at her. Is it possible to drop dead from shock?

She isn’t dead. She’s staring at me with her mouth hanging open and her brows drawn together like she’s in pain. “Trafficking? But how… I mean, why…”

“She and William and some of the other elders go out on the street hunting for kids—teenagers—like you. The ones who comein on their own, without families, end up getting picked up in the deliveries. These people come in a truck every few months and take away all the kids who are getting sold.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Think,” I urge in a whisper. “Haven’t you ever noticed? Sometimes, people just… go away. One day they’re here, and the next day they’re not. You’ve been here long enough that you should have seen it by now.”

“Yeah, but I figured they…” She holds her head in her hands, her face falling. “I thought they left. Oh, god, of course not. Nobody’s allowed to leave. Why didn’t I see it?”

“Because you’re not sick and twisted. It wouldn’t occur to you.”

“So I’m going to be sold and taken away?”