“It sounded like you were enjoying yourself.” He pushes off the wall and follows after me, his bulky frame hovering close at my back, raising the hair on my neck. “You know your screams make me hard.”
I keep walking, keep eating up the distance to my room.
“How does it feel knowing you’ll soon be mine?” he taunts.
I stop, not just my steps, but my breathing.
“You heard right.” There’s humor in his voice. “Luther agreed to hand you over once he’s finished with you. Isn’t it a relief to find out you’ll be saved from the whorehouse yet again?”
Everything kicks back in—my fractured heartbeats, my panicked speculation, and so much stifling anger. It takes all my strength not to let my emotions show.
Luther is a monster. Always has been. Always will be. But Robert’s violations will be an even deeper layer of hell seeing as though I’ve been an untouchable temptation to him for so long.
I raise my chin. Square my shoulders. “I look forward to our time together.” I don’t wait for a reply. My numb feet carry me along the hall, his laughter haunting me as he leaves in the opposite direction.
When I reach the door to my shared bedroom, the slightest sense of relief warms my chest until quickened footsteps carry from the kitchen.
“Penny, wait.” Tobias, Luther’s son, runs along the hall, his tiny frame barreling toward me.
I force a smile. I force so much fake bravado for this boy that it physically pains me. “Hey, little man. What are you up to this morning?”
He beams up at me, not acknowledging my nudity or the myriad of new bruises and scratches now marking my skin.
The sight before him is normal. The brutality an everyday occurrence. This beautiful little boy, with his sleek black hair and his deep blue eyes, is immune to the horrors surrounding him.
“I finished the writing task you gave me.”
“Already?” I ruffle his hair. “That was fast.”
“I’ve been awake forever. Dad took me out last night to meet my brother and when we returned I couldn’t sleep.”
Unease slithers down my spine. “Your brother?”
“Half-brother,” he corrects. “His name is Cole. He’s big and scary-looking. He’s really old, too. Even older than you. But Dad says we have a lot in common.”
I fake a chuckle, the sound bubbling over the bile rising in my throat.
I knew Luther had an adult son. Some of the women I’ve met in here have told stories about him. The kind of Chinese whispers capable of making my skin crawl. They spoke of his reputation in Oregon. About him being a well-known criminal. A murderer. And also the apple of his father’s eye.
I’ve just never known him to come to the Greek Islands. Not once in the lifetime I’ve been here.
“I’m not really old, Tobias.” But I am really worried. Luther’s son has to be the visitor. “And I’m sure your brother isn’t either.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about. I have to show you my assignment. It’s really good.”
My heart squeezes at his innocence. “You can show it to me later. Let me get dressed first.”
His face falls. “Please?”
“Later.” I ruffle his hair again. I have to speak to the other women and warn them of the approaching danger. “I promise.”
He pouts and blinks those puppy-dog eyes at me. “Please. Please. Please.”
This time my chuckle isn’t forced, only short-lived. “Later, gorgeous boy.”
“Fine.” His shoulders slump as he huffs and storms off in the direction he came.
I wait a pain-filled heartbeat, making sure he’s out of sight before I rush into my room.
It’s exactly how it is every day—three sets of bunk beds evenly spaced along the side wall. Five beds are perfectly made, with the lower bed in the middle bunk being the anomaly.
Lilly is still under the covers, curled in a ball, her gaze meeting mine. Those soul-shattered eyes are the only reason I don’t blurt out the news about Luther’s son.
This woman—this girl—is close to breaking under the pressure of our tortured existence.
She rarely leaves our small sanctuary, choosing to sleep away the nightmares as much as possible. There’s no fight left in her. No life. It’s only a matter of time before she slips through the revolving door.
“Morning, Lill.” I continue to the closet, pull out a loose sundress, and slide it over my head, letting the thin cotton cover the bruises on my thighs and hips.
She watches me, her eyes dreary, her skin ashen. “Luther’s son is coming.”
I wince and walk toward her, climbing onto her bed to spoon under the covers. “Did you hear me talking to Tobias?”
“No,” she whispers. “Chloe told me. It’s all I can think about.”
I relax a little, entirely selfish with relief at not having been the bearer of bad news. “How did she find out?”
“She overheard Robert and Chris talking.” She sucks in a shaky breath. “It’s a business meeting. She thinks he’s going to help traffic more women.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and hug her tight. “Lill, I need you to listen to me. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep hiding in here. Luther loathes fragility. You have to find something to fight for. You can’t give up, especially if his son is coming. You need to be strong.”
“I can’t.” Her voice breaks. “I don’t know how.”
An ache forms under my sternum, the discomfort building.
She’s going to be taken away. I’ve seen it happen too many times not to predict the separation.
“All I can think about is my family, which only makes me want to cry.” She turns into me, her face pressing against my shoulder, her tears heating my skin. “I miss them, Penny. I just want to go home.”
I hug her tighter and press my eyes closed, knowing exactly how hard it is to get out of the emotional minefield. “You need to forget your past. You can’t think of anything before your time here. It doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”
A sob escapes her. “I don’t know how you stay strong.”
“There’s no choice. We both know the alternative is worse.”
If there was another option to combat my reality, I’d take it. But I’ve learned the ways of Luther’s world. There’s no escape. Only darker pits of despair if we don’t comply.
I can’t kill him. I wouldn’t dare to try. Not when failure would turn this nightmare into something unimaginable.
Women have attempted before and the aftermath still haunts me.
One woman even came close to success. Cody. A victim barely in her twenties.
She’d been frail. Mindless. And didn’t think of the consequences of stealing a visitor’s gun before she aimed the barrel at Luther.
She also didn’t anticipate the gun’s safety lock or know how to switch it off after she failed to successfully pull the trigger.
Cody went from elation to annihilation in the space of heartbeats. But not through physical pain. At least not to start with. After Robert and Chris tackled her to the ground, Luther told them to fetch another one of the women from his personal harem—her closest confidant.