TRAPPED FOR YOUR LOVE

Olivia Hayes

-GET UP! my owner yelled next to my ear, waking me up with a start.

His breath reeked of alcohol and tobacco. With a hard look, he shook my head roughly

Bill. A first-rate piece of shit, which was easy to guess just by his appearance of a tramp high on hard drugs and thirsty for money.

"I asked him for a large sum, so no delay on the delivery!" he exclaimed in a falsely cheerful tone.

I got out of bed, under the malicious gaze of my future ex-owner. I didn't quite realize what I was saying yet. Future ex-owner.

He came out with a clumsy step, a sign that he was drunk. Damn, how could you be drunk at 9 a.m.?

Next to my bed was an old empty bag with stuff on it that Bill had bought me for the occasion. Underwear, two pairs of jeans, and two sweaters. What a thoughtful man.

I picked up the things on the floor and stuffed them carelessly inside the old bag. With my worn-out shoes on, I walked out of the broom closet that served as my bedroom.

I was in such a hurry to get out of this odious place. For good.

I ran up the stairs and came face to face with the tramp, who was waiting for me at the threshold of the front door.

"Come here."

Wary, I approached. He placed his thin, vile hands on my unkempt hair, trying to pull my rebellious locks down, hoping to fix my hair.

Faced with my recoil, he violently imprisoned my jaw between his fingers. He forced me to look at him as he spat, "I'm the one who should be disgusted by touching you, you little slut." I glared at him, but didn't answer. With a firm hand, he pulled me outside. This was going to be a good day, especially for me.

He walked over to the black car parked near his house, opening the door and shoving me inside.

"You're nothing more than a horrible bag of problems, not to mention your nights of crying like a child. He'll figure it out quickly and probably want his money back, but you'll tell him it's impossible."

Before the door closed, a sick snicker left his lips. I sighed in relief and my heart rate calmed as I finally felt the car start.

The driver was not talkative, to my great happiness. His face made me think he was in his forties, and his body seemed more imposing than Bill's. I looked away to rest it on the new landscapes that were offered to me behind the tinted window.

I was moving away from this hell where I had spent half of my adolescence. In a way, I was free. Far from Bill, the one who had torn me from my previous life. Who, out of greed, had seen fit to erase me from reality.

I am free. Damn, this moment, I have dreamed of it for so long!

This thought made me smile like a child, and tears welled up in my eyes. I was finally beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, the tunnel in which I had lost myself for the only member of my family.

However, I feared my new owner. I knew that there was no one worse than Bill, that was for sure, but I wondered who this stranger was. What was he planning to do with me? And was he going to send him the money I earned? Besides, I hadn't heard from him since I started my job.

The vague idea of ​​escaping from my future owner crossed my mind, but it was too late. My life was ruined, I had nowhere to go. And above all, I didn't know where I was going.

The journey was long, very long. In the meantime, night had fallen. I fell asleep at least twenty times. Then, I focused on the driver, who hadn't spoken since we left. If I asked him how much time we had left, would he answer me? He seemed grumpy and cold.

Finally, I felt us slow down. I swallowed when I saw men at the side of the road. When the driver lowered the window, my gaze met those of these tall, imposing silhouettes.

"Let him pass," one of them said.

Where the fuck are we? I have to ask him...

I hesitated for a long time. It was when I finally decided to ask him that the car stopped abruptly. The first one, the driver, got out and went around the car to open the door for me. He pulled me out of the cabin by pulling my arm, which he squeezed so hard that he made me wince.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to escape. I have nowhere to go, old man."

With his backpack on his shoulder, he pressed a button with a luminous outline on the gate and waited without looking at me or speaking to me. There was nothing around us, except the main road that stretched out behind me, and the gate in front that separated me from my future home, protected by a long wall.

"It's there," the driver said coldly, looking up at a surveillance camera on top of the wall.

The gate opened automatically. He quickly dragged me along the driveway, which I thought was endless. In the distance stood a huge house with more bay windows than walls. Has my new owner never watched horror movies? Because that's often what catches the eye of psychopaths.

It was a big house, too big a house. To my left, in the middle of a perfectly mown lawn, was a huge swimming pool. Much lower down, I saw an entrance. Like a garage?

The driver squeezed my arm harder. I was sure he would leave the marks of his fingers on my skin. He knocked on the front door, and a rather old man greeted us, sizing me up with a neutral expression.

"Alexandre is on the second floor, with the others," the old man said without looking away.

"Alexandre? My new owner was called Alexandre?"

"Is everyone here?"

The man nodded briefly and moved out of the way. I gave him a polite smile that he didn't return, preferring to turn his head and pretend he hadn't seen anything. But why did I smile at him? We climbed the white steps of this house without a word. Although I didn't have time to visit the different rooms, I noticed that there were several doors. Bedrooms? But who would need so many bedrooms in their home?

Arriving on the second floor, I heard muffled voices coming from the end of the hallway. I swallowed, my heart pounding. Anxious about all these unfamiliar voices, I shuddered when we stood in front of the famous door from which this slight hubbub emanated. The door that separated my uncertain future from my nightmarish present.

After knocking, the driver waited patiently. We could hear footsteps without too much difficulty. Finally, the door opened to reveal a man younger than the one we had passed downstairs. Probably about fifty years old, he stared at me with his blue eyes while his thin lips stretched. At least he was smiling.

"You took your time!" he exclaimed, glancing at the driver.

"Excuse me, the main road was blocked, I had to take other paths."

The man nodded and turned his attention back to me. Whispers could be heard behind him. He stepped away from the door to let us in, closing it behind us.

When the driver let go of my now sore arm, I winced. In front of me stood a group barely older than me. There were four of them: two girls and two boys. All slumped in leather office chairs, glaring at me, sizing me up without permission, like I was a freak show.

I hated it.

"I end this meeting with a flat refusal," one of them said, rising from his chair.

That particularly raspy voice belonged to the only blond man in the room. A few strands of his tousled hair fell over his gray eyes. His piercing gaze intimidated me as much as his imposing body. He looked away from my face as the fifty-year-old whispered, "Cas, don't be picky." She's perfect for business, her previous owner told me she was very enterprising.

That's what you call false advertising, sir!

"I don't want a new Hostage, Alexandre! Look at her, she looks like a fucking zombie! We're not going to get anything out of her except to hit even deeper rock bottom," said Cas spat, pointing at me.

Even though I was almost hurt by the crude terms he used to describe my tired face, I remained silent. Far be it from me to defend myself, especially now.

He looked at me with an almost forbidden disgust. A lump formed in my stomach when a thought hit my mind already tired of all these reflections: what if they sent me back to Bill?

Oh no, please.

"Don't talk nonsense, she's beautiful!" Alexandre retorted as he approached me. "Exactly the way you like them."

He placed his hand on my cheek, and I instinctively stepped back. The driver roughly took my arm again, perhaps thinking that I was going to run away.

"Are you fearful? My little one... you shouldn't have ventured into a world like this, then."

He murmured his sentence with a slight smirk.

I never wanted to venture into your world voluntarily, I thought. It was for her. And only for her.

"If you want, Cas, I can try it on for you. Just to see how it's worth in the field..." a male voice called out.

I grimaced, disgusted by the dark eyes of the second man who didn't hesitate to examine me with a perverse glint. He had a bird tattoo on his neck, ebony hair and a gaze as piercing as the blond's.

"I'll give it to you, a gift from the house."

"Well, you can't have two Hostages, Cas, it's non-negotiable."

That "Cas" was still staring at me with disgust. I understood that it was him, my new owner, and that he didn't want me to work for him. The two girls present whispered things that I couldn't hear from my position.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Cas shouted. AND HER ALONG!

I jumped violently when he yelled his last sentence. The oldest of the group, Rick, rolled his eyes as he headed toward the door.

"That's what he would have wanted you to do," he said softly.

His sentence stopped the young man in his tracks. The latter turned his head to glare at him, then turned his attention back to the members of his group. They hadn't moved, silent witnesses to the scene. Perplexed, I waited for an answer from this light-haired man who absolutely didn't want me.

"Without him, I would never have ended up in your stupid business."

Alexandre sighed before simply retorting:

"Now that you're here, run our business like he did. It's doing very badly, and you know it."

"For that, you have to accept your new capti-

"Shut up, Kaylsey!" Cas cut her off sharply.

I felt very uncomfortable with this argument that I was causing. On the bright side, I was far from Bill. On the downside, my arm would soon be amputated, because I could no longer feel the blood circulating.

The man named Alexandre nodded to the driver, who finally let go of me and disappeared. It was just me, the two men who were in total disagreement, and the rest of the group. I put my hand on my arm to massage it gently.

I was embarrassed by the atmosphere that was hanging over me. To tell the truth, I hated being the center of attention. All I wanted to do at that moment was dig into the ground and bury myself while they found a solution to their problems.

The blond guy stormed out of the room, leaving me with this Alexandre, who turned to me with a big smile on his face.

"Good! Now that the problem is settled, allow me to introduce myself." My name is Alexandre, and this is Chance, Keylsy, and Alya, he said, pointing to the people in the room.

The young woman named Keylsy, who was very pretty by the way, waved at me. Brown curls cascaded over her shoulders. She had a thin nose, a smile, and warm, clear eyes. Alya, on the other hand, had that femme fatale look that I could never have, as well as almond-shaped eyes and full lips. Her exotic features made me think that she might have Latin origins. She wore the forced smile that I used to show when I was in Bill's presence.

A smile that I returned.

"Your previous owner made us pay a lot to have you," he continued. "I hope I made the right choice..."

"My offer is still valid, huh," the second man reminded him, shrugging his shoulders.

It was the pervert, Chance.

- One of you will go ask Cas where his new hostage will sleep.

None of them deigned to move, all pretended as if they had not heard anything. Alexandre shook his head in exasperation and gave the pervert a hard look.

"Go ahead, you! I have better things to do than stay stuck in a hospital bed!" exclaimed the brunette.

"Can I go?" asked one of the two girls.

Alya.

"No," the two men answered at the same time without looking at her.

Alya rolled her eyes and scowled in her seat.

"Keylsy, get down."

The pervert let out a mocking laugh while the young woman shook her head and crossed her arms. Under Alxandre's dark gaze, she gave in and finally got up. While mumbling incomprehensible things, she left the room.

A few minutes later, we heard muffled screams, before seeing Keylsy reappear, an annoyed expression on her face. Annoyed, Alexandre put his fingers on my arm... But what do they all have with my arm?!

But as we were about to leave, the young man with blond hair from earlier reappeared in the room, almost smashing the door he had entered through. He grabbed me by the wrist and tore me from the older man's grip.

At least, it's the wrist...

We quickly got out of the room. While swearing, he ran down the stairs while I almost fell. One floor lower, he opened a door.

His pressure on my wrist made me wince. One step, and we arrived in a dark and damp corridor. After the broom closet, I would soon be sleeping in a cellar. How lucky.

He opened a second door and roughly pushed me inside the room. I lost my balance. I didn't have time to get up before I heard him lock the door. The room was lit by a small, half-open window, letting the cold winter air invade the "room". There was only an old mattress on the floor, without a pillow or blanket.

I swallowed when I heard objects breaking upstairs and screams. Well, the screams of only one person. Those of my new owner.

I opened my old bag and put on the two sweaters I had in my possession, hoping that they would warm me up during this first night. After several deafening minutes, the noise of the engines echoed from the small window, and I understood that they were going to leave, leaving me alone with my new, insane owner.

I, who was wondering how this guy could sleep with bay windows all over his house, had my answer. He's a psychopath. How could he be afraid of attracting his kind?

I started to look around me, looking for something other than a vulgar mattress that I assumed was dirty. There was nothing, except the iron door that contained a trapdoor at the bottom. Oh no, it looked like a prison. Hearing footsteps on the ceiling, I looked up. Maybe he was in the room above? A breath left my lips. Even if fatigue was slowly taking hold of me, I was unable to sleep because my mind kept replaying the latest events.

After a few hours of staring at the ceiling and getting lost in my thoughts, my eyelids became heavy. I tried to find sleep, curled up on myself to warm myself up.

Eventually, I was almost beginning to miss Bill.