Free Tears of Tess by Pepper Winters

 
    “I’m
the man who holds your fate in his hands.”
    “I’m
the only one who owns my fate. Not you. Not your guards. Not your sick
operation. No one.”
    He
chuckled. “Ignacio was right. You’re a fighter.” He leaned forward, twirling a
pen. “Being a fighter is what gets you killed. You should let go. Let us guide
you.”
    Ignacio?
Was that Leather Jacket? I twitched in anger. “Let you guide me to my death by
rape and mutilation?”
    He
leaned back as if I slapped him. “Stupid girl. If you behave, you will be sold
to a gentleman who will treat you like a prized possession. Lavish attention on
you. Buy you whatever you want.”
    My
mind ran crazy. I was right. I was to be sold into sex slavery, into bondage.
    “I
am nobody's possession.”
    He
shook his head, smiling. “Ah, but you’re wrong. You already are. Sold.
Contracted. The deed is done.”
    My
heart tried to claw its way out of my throat, but I sat frozen, brave. “You
won’t get away with this.”
    He
stood and threw a package into my lap. I caught it on reflex, horrified to find
my photograph on a fake American passport, and papers written in Spanish.
    “Already
have, pretty girl.” He came to the front of the desk, stopping in front of me.
He trailed fingertips along my cheek, just as gentle, just as adoring, as Brax
used to. “What is your name?”
    “You’re
not worthy of my name,” I snarled, trying to bite his fingers.
    He
stepped back, laughing. “Well, I hope you are worthy of the client who bought
you. I don’t do refunds.” He nodded at Jagged Scar, who’d snuck up behind me.
“Do it.”
    My
world ended as hands smothered my face, pressing a rag, reeking of chloroform
against my nose and mouth. I tried not to breathe, fought to get free, but the
fumes stung my eyes, entering my bloodstream.
    A
fog descended, whispering and stealing.
    Unconsciousness
claimed me.

 
    *Nightingale*
     
    M y
ears popped on descent.
    I
instantly recognised the hum of aircraft engines and gentle thrum of metal. I’d
been on a plane only a week before. Had it been a week since I’d been a
prisoner? It felt much, much longer. I’d changed so much. My life no longer evolved
around exams and when I could get Brax naked. Now, all I focused on was survival.
    The
black hood rested over my head, and I tried to remain calm. Freaking out
wouldn’t help.
    My
ears kept popping as the airplane left the clouds, returning to earth. Where
was I? They’d given me a passport for a reason, so I must be overseas somewhere.
    Time
ceased to have meaning as we landed, then taxied a fair distance. Finally, the
engines ceased and abrupt silence hurt my ears.
    As
I sat there, with hands bound and head aching from being drugged, I mentally
prepared for the worst. The next stage of my new life. I had to protect myself.
Be ready to fight and run.
    I
couldn’t think about regrets and my past. I couldn't think about Brax.
    And
I definitely couldn’t think about what was in store for me.
    A
sad smile graced my lips. If someone asked a week ago what I was most afraid
of, I'd have said crickets. Those damn flying grasshopper creatures scared the
bejesus out of me.
    Now,
if someone asked me, I’d say three little words.
    Three
little words that terrified, stole my breath, and made my life flicker before
my eyes.
    Three
little words:
    I
was sold.
    Noise.
    The
cargo door of the airplane opened and footsteps thudded. My senses were dulled,
muted by the black hood, and my mind ran amok with terror-filled images.
    Male
voices argued and my arms were wrenched painfully as someone pulled me to my
feet. I flinched and cried out, earning a fist to my belly. The blow landed on
a particularly tender part, and suddenly, everything was too much. I’d been so strong
and it hadn’t changed my future. Tears streamed down my face. The first tears I
shed, but definitely not the last.
    The
wetness on my cheeks wasn’t cleansing, it made me feel worse.
    A
cold wind whipped, disappearing up