Chapter 80

Being on that stage lasted for what felt like days. Though my mental state was dwindling, I didn't show it. I stared at everyone that approached me with the blankest expression possible. However, once the ceremony wrapped up... I couldn't hold it together.

Saying I needed to take a piss, I was guided to a bathroom backstage. The second I was in the cement toilet room, I flung the door shut and collapsed back against it. My deep burn pressed into the door and hurt like a bitch, but I didn't care. Alone. I'm alone. In an instant, I slid to the floor, clamped my hands over my mouth, and sobbed into my palms.

Resting against the door, uncontrollable whimpers and sobs left the back of my throat and muffled against my hands. My wet streaming eyes clamped shut. Why did I deserve to feel like an object?! Why was in I this place? No, I didn't forget the past several months leading up to this, but why the fuck me? How long until the FBI gets here? Because my god, I can't do this, I can't do this! I can't handle this. Getting branded like cattle and shown off like an animal.... Ugh! They just stared at me and I-I-I could still see those men! Still see their observing, judging, and awe-filled eyes behind my shut and wet ones. So clear, vivid, and disgusting and degrading.

My whole life I was treated like less than a person, my whole life, and I honesty didn't fucking get it. I didn't get it, what I did, and I didn't know why! What did I do?! My mother wrecked me! My father abandoned me! What did I do to them?! Everyone in school dragged me through shit! And so many times – so many times – I had to fight just to breathe another day.

Even then, I never let my troubles crush my spirit. Yes, I lost hope in the past, but it never impacted me as a person. But there is only so much I could take. I've fought so hard, so many times... yet, here I am, swimming upstream just to feel like a human being. At what point do I say fuck everything and give in? On that stage... I was observed, appraised, assessed, disgustingly objectified. How much more would it take until I realize there is no point?

My hands shook against my parted lips and cries, my body heaving. I hated getting swallowed in emotions, but I let myself have this. Sobbing quietly, with bare legs folded under me against the cement, I let myself become consumed. I let myself be weak. Maybe that's the answer to every 'why' question – because I'm weak. I was weak. I know how pathetic and wimpy I sound, but I truly felt it.

Then, a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After a few more knocks and some persisting words, I was forced to wrap up my cry-baby fest. I had to be fine. There was no time to assess my mental state; I had to quickly shove away this vulnerable moment. I learned earlier they had no problem barging into bathrooms to claim me.

Forcing my tears to stop, I splashed water in my face and then sipped some from my hands. It took a few minutes to compose myself, but soon, I was back to being blank and concealed. Now... time to be placed with the other girls.

Still in just my bra and skirt, I was cuffed once again. The same two men from earlier guided me back through the bright white hallways. It was a long walk. I could tell we entered a completely different part of the organization. We weaved down and up some stairs, then passed a sign hanging from the ceiling. It said, 'Confinement Area.' Sounds peachy, don't it folks?

The white halls narrowed and were now lined with endless doors. My stomach started flopping violently, like a fish out of water. Being in the confinement area, it was easy to imagine what was behind these doors. Since Reid let his business go to hell, I could only hope there weren't too many girls trapped here.

I was waiting to be shoved through one of these doors. Instead, after several more turns, the two burly men took me to an elevator. There were three buttons: G, B, and 1. 1 was selected.

When we reached that floor and stepped out of the elevator, there was nothing to the left besides a wall. The only option was to go right, which was where the men guided me. But it wasn't a normal hall. Instead of a sharp turn up ahead, the hallway started a gradual curve up. Instead of any demented art, there were small windows. They were tiny and too high to see out of, as if meant purely to add natural light among the ceiling lights. My focus remained entirely ahead of me though. Heart picking up, exceeding the beat of my echoing heels against the floor, my eyes strained to see around the curve. Where were these guys leading me?

When the hall straightened, my uneasiness became justified. Several yards down, doors lined the left side of the hall. There were still a few little windows, spaced between each door. However, the small windows stopped all together along the right hallway wall. A huge section of the wall was replaced with plexiglass. It wasn't meant to offer a nice outside view or anything; we're in hell, remember? As we got closer, I could see that behind the plexiglass was a long bedroom. Yes. A bedroom. There were several beds, but what I noticed first were the girls.

There were three of them, two of which were seated on one of the beds and talking. The other girl was sitting on her own. Walking past them, my attention rested on those girls. I meet their eyes as we passed by. But my intrigue turned into shock and fear.

Instead of continuing down the hall, the men stopped at a door built into the plexiglass before it ended. A door of a room that was displayed like a damn exhibit! My god, they are putting me in here! After they punched in an entrance code, they uncuffed me and shoved me inside. One of the men said something before leaving. As if I was listening.

Though my wide eyes found the girls first... I couldn't stop my gaze from inching to the right. I stared at the plexiglass and the hall, which was now on the other side. All I could think was go-fucking-figure. Really, you know? Go figure! Of course I would be placed where anyone could walk by and see me. I'll be living behind glass where people can come up and watch, see, stare, judge! It not only fueled my fear, but also my growing anger. Out of all those doors, and all the other options I'm sure they had, they placed me here.

Well... at least I have distractions. One skipped right up to me.

She gave my mostly exposed torso a swift hug. "Hi, Albany! We've heard so much about you and know that you are very new – they said you got here yesterday, and let me tell you, we were so surprised. We know so much about you, but that's a different story for later because I'm sure you're pretty freaked out and not use to anything. I'm just so happy to finally meet you and that you will be staying with us. My name is Erica by the way," she said, words moving fast with an enthusiastic voice. Immediately, I got dramatic-high-school-girl vibe from her. Wonder if that's how she was before being dragged into this place.

She looked maybe 14 with her roundish face and still-developing body. Her appearance screamed she was trying to be older. Acne dotted her forehead and cheeks, but heavy concealer made it blend in. Her dirty blonde hair shined and was straightened. She over did the eye-make up too, which was shaded to match her crop-top and short shorts. She was too young for those clothes and make-up. I just got this warped artificial vibe from her. Reminded me a little of Clare.

After I just stared at her, she giggled. "It's okay, I know it's scary right now and we were warned that you could be violent. But you'll love this place and you are just so lucky, I can't get over how lucky you are!"

Unsure of whether to feel sorry for her or annoyed, I noticed the other girl walked towards us. This girl had short brown hair. Unlike the chatty chick, she had curves and was more developed. She showed it off with her low top, cleavage begging for stares. She was still too young. Jesus, that was all I could think – way too young. At least her make-up didn't scream desperate whore. Plus, I felt more comfortable with her approach.

With a soft smile, she nodded to me. "I know you probably don't feel too lucky, do you? I'm Samantha by the way."

Though they were young, and brainwashed, they were not the men who worked here. They weren't looking for a certain reaction. My guard was stubborn and strictly up – like an erection that lasted more than four hours. But I could at least feel more at ease to allow questions to the surface.

"How long have you been in here? What is this room and where are the other girls kept?" I finally asked, looking between the two girls.

"We've both been in here for a few years," the calmer brunette girl said – Samantha. "The institution I mean, not this specific room. We've been in this room for... two weeks I think. This is one of the selection quarters, aimed for the older girls."

This 'selection quarters' looked like one very long bedroom. Past the girls, there was a row of beds. More specifically, I counted eight twin-sized beds. They were all evenly spaced next to each other against the long wall, facing the glass and hallway. All beds were made. The comforters were a plain black color; it contrasted against the whiteness of the room. The walls in here were bright white. The floors were covered in long shag white carpet. On the smaller wall, adjacent to the long plexiglass, was an ajar white door. I could see it was to a small bathroom.

That's all there was. Just beds and a door for a bathroom. Regardless, I couldn't ignore the set up. How the beds faced the glass. How the area was tidy, clean, the beds made. The floor had nice cozy carpet.... It was all set up to look like a normal bedroom. And the girls within it looked as appealing as possible. The make-up made their young features pop. Clearly not uniforms, their clothes were casual and revealing. They were also very clean. Their hair shined, skin smooth, no stank.... They probably showered daily.

The name of this room clicked with my observations. My eyes zipped back to the girls. "Selection quarters?"

"Yeah, this is where we are picked by our future masters!" Erica said in a high excited voice.

The spec of ease drained from me. "You've both been sold? Or this is where you will be sold?" That better not be why I'm fucking in here!

"Not yet, we have a few weeks left and I am just so excited."

Samantha jumped in and clarified. Thankfully. I was already sick of Chipper-Chatty's fast words and energetic tone. "This is where we will be sold. We are looked at by anyone who might want to buy us. The last buying period just happened so there aren't too many of us ready for the next one just yet. So by the time it happens, there will be plenty more girls that will be ready and placed in here. Or other quarters. There are other selection quarters on this floor that are much bigger; this one is fairly small."

Buying periods? Other selection quarters? These girls were clearly well aware of the system and the patterns. There was so much more I wanted to know, wanted to ask them, but one question came first. "I told them to place me with the other girls. I'm sure the majority of girls aren't ready to be sold or kept in these rooms. So, do you know why they put me in here? Because I'm almost positive I'm not to be sold."

Though I was Reid's personal prize, knowing I was placed where other girls are sold... yeah, it made me pretty damn nervous. I hated Reid, but at least if I'm here with him, the FBI could track down this place. If sold... no longer at the organization... my life would be over. The chance to shut this organization would be over, I would not be rescued, and Luke would be in prison.

Samantha scoffed, looking down at her perfect manicured nails and assessing them. "Don't worry, you won't be. You're Reid's. You're only in here so you can be on display for anyone who wants to look at you. Most of the girls are behind doors like those," she said, nodding towards the glass. Through it, on the other side of the hall, were the doors I noticed earlier. There were a couple that faced us before the line of doors continued down the hall and out of sight.

"I'd rather be there, but I won't bitch. As long as I'm not sleeping with psycho."

Samantha sighed and let her hand with perfect nails drop to her side. "Look, I understand you're scared and stuff, but... we would kill to be allowed access to him and his bed. It took Erica nearly two years until she even had the pleasure of having sex with him."

From where they stood beside each other, facing me, Erica rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. Yes, flipped her hair. Just shoot me. "Yeah because he was a little busy with the search and all. Plus, it took me a while to come around because I didn't like my classes and training at first."

Not following her weird excuse, I was more interested in hearing more about the whole 'sex' thing. Kicking off my heels, my bare feet rested on the soft carpet. If there was a tiny piece of heaven in this hell, it was this carpet. Or food once I give into my hunger. "Does Reid have sex with most of the girls?" I asked Samantha.

"Before when business was booming, apparently it was rare. You know, since there were just so many girls. After he started focusing on you, the number of girls here started going down. So, he can manage getting around to most of us. A low number of girls though also means some of us are being sold even when not ready. Like drama queen over there," Samantha said, jutting a thumb over her shoulder towards the third girl. She didn't bother approaching me and was sitting on the floor, mostly out of sight. Her back rested against one of the beds. "She didn't finish her studies and sessions to be an actualized girl, but it doesn't matter. There aren't many mentors since the focus was put on finding you. So, girls like her who aren't progressing are cut from the training and just sold. Usually it doesn't happen because Reid is such a saint, but there is only so much he can do if he wants to keep the business going."

I had no idea what the structure was of these 'studies' or anything about this. It was all just so fucked up. There was so much I didn't know. It made me fidgety, uneasy, and wanting to stop this whole thing. I just fucking hope the FBI gets here soon.

The two girls could see how stunned and overwhelmed I was, enough that my questions just stopped. Looking at each other, Erica dramatically rested her hands on my bare shoulders. I winced hard and hissed from the fresh branding, but she didn't notice. "I know it's a lot and there will be a lot to learn, but just relax. You have nothing to worry about because Reid, he is like, the best guy."

They got the hint that I was too overwhelmed and gave me some space. My attention zeroed in on the lonely girl I haven't spoken to yet. She was sitting on the floor between two beds, her back resting against one of them. Approaching her, her eyes were set on the floor. She wore revealing clothes like the others, but she didn't look happy. I sat down on the floor next to her, folding my legs pretzel-style. And yes, I had a skirt on, but I also was wearing just a bra. So really, does it fucking matter if my underwear was showing?

Samantha said this girl didn't finish her studies (brainwashing sessions) and that she wasn't progressing. I wasn't sure if that meant she was too rebellious or wasn't coming around fast enough. But she was placed to be sold even though she wasn't fully accepting. That, along with her being isolated and looking uncomfortable, I wondered if I could relate to her more.

"Please tell me you aren't fully brainwashed into a dick-hungry servant," I sighed.

I was beyond surprised that she seemed down-to-earth. "I'm on my way," she chuckled, eyes still dipped towards the floor. A sad smirk reached her thin young lips. "I thought I was coming along, but not fast enough. They booted me from class to be sold early. It's not like I was doing awful."

The other girls were too far gone, but I didn't know about her. I was so curious. "Do you actually feel you want this? To serve men?"

"I... I don't know, but I believe I should serve," she sighed, eyes finally finding mine. They were a sweet blue. Stringy strawberry blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face. She looked a little older than the other girls, but not by much. "My family didn't care about me and that's why I'm here. If they cared, they would have cared enough to find me. To get me. They're better off without me. So, I know I'm better off here. I'm filth, I'm... not worth anything, so I should be thankful and happy to serve."

Her helpless voice, her words, her defeated eyes... it was insanely different from the other girls. The other two seemed fine, happy, and confident. Not that there is any reason for her to feel happy, but let's be honest folks: I could easily win the argument of 'who's family is worse.' That didn't mean I needed to serve and be a sex slave. And that's assuming her family is actually a bunch of losers, which I'm sure they aren't!

Mind scrambling, hearing such false words leave this poor girl's mouth, I immediately spoke up. "You actually think your family doesn't care?"

"They don't," she shrugged, scoffing. "They could have gotten me at any time. And my mentors showed me pictures of my family without me. Smiling and happy."

That was an interesting one. "Pictures of your family... after you were taken?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah. The dates on the pictures were after I was taken."

The dates could be wrong. They could be old pictures. And even if they aren't... those pictures shouldn't mean anything. I'm sure this girl's mother has cracked smiles and laughed because it's every day life. Doesn't mean her mother isn't heart-broken and it doesn't mean her family hasn't looked for her. This was just full-blown manipulation to convince her she didn't matter.

"You know, that doesn't really mean anything," I said, watching her closely.

She crossed her pale legs in her short-shorts, shifting to face me fully. "I know. It's just... that and everything else. My family could easily find me if they tried, random people come in here all the time, there isn't much security here, and I know I'm not far from home."

Fuck me, where to start! I shook my head with persistence. I knew this place lied to the girls; this wasn't a brainwashing and sex-slave operation for nothing. But those were obvious lies! "I—Ugh, first of all, where are you from?"

"A small town about an hour south of Chicago," she answered.

Not too far from home my ass! This girl is from Illinois. "Yeah, you're in Washington State. We are in a huge underground organization; this place is hard to find and the security is insane. My ass has hiked these woods over and over, and let me tell you, it's impossible to find."

Even though they were obvious lies though, why wouldn't she believe them? She was impressionable, but more than that, she was pushed over the edge. She was convinced, brainwashed, over and over. It could happen to anyone. That's why I should have known my words wouldn't phase her.

Smiling politely, she shook her head. "They said you would say that, but I know better. And even then, it doesn't matter. That's all surface stuff," she chuckled, racking her hands forward and back against the carpet mindlessly. "Even if they lied – which they haven't – I deserve this. I'm... nothing. And they have proved to me that this is what I am meant for. They've proved it. All the men here are just so courageous, real, and honest. They are strong minded and understand life more than I ever did because they embrace their nature and instincts. Embracing mine means giving in and accepting I'm weak because I am – look at where I'm at."

Hearing that was disturbing, but a certain word added a more chilling effect: the word 'weak.' Breath becoming out of tune, I looked down to my crossed legs. I can't believe she said that. She voiced what was circling around in my head not even an hour ago when I had my break down. That set a few things into perspective.

I've been here not even two days and I was starting to get an unhealthy mindset. I can't imagine where I would be mentally if I was her. I wouldn't believe anyone about anything either – and it wouldn't matter anyway, like she said. Even if it could be proven, that they lied, I can understand why that is only added effect. The real damage is done below the surface and it was strong.

The purpose of this place is to beat you down until you feel like nothing. Until you give in and start believing. It seemed like she was on her way. "Well... I don't see why you were booted. Your confidence is crushed, you feel like nothing – just like they wanted you to," I mumbled.

"I feel like nothing, but its hard to be happy about it. They embraced their natures and are happy," she jutted a thumb towards the two girls. "I admire them for that. A lot of girls just accept being miserable and live with it – like me. But I do want to serve and make the men happy, it's the least I could do. The girls told me that once I start serving, I will feel better about it."

I felt just awful for her. Awful for all these girls. The other two embraced serving men as a positive thing, but it meant accepting that they meant nothing. That they were filth. Such a fucked-up thing to do to someone's mind... I didn't even understand how those two could be happy about feeling like dirt. But at least they were so far gone that they did enjoy pleasing men and being brainwashed. At least they enjoyed it. Who the fuck knows how, but they exceeded beyond being miserable and look at it with positivity. This place must have some college-level advanced classes if they are able to do that!

This poor girl I was sitting across from was brainwashed, but had yet to embrace it in a positive way. Not that I want that for her, but she was miserable compared to the other girls. "I'm sorry," I whispered, a wave of sadness washing through my body.

She scoffed. "For what?"

Whether they were miserable or happy, they accepted they meant nothing. I looked down, the back of my throat tightening. "I'm just sorry."

Then, we were interrupted. A woman in maybe her mid-20s was walking down the hall and caught my attention. She wore the colors of the other workers – grey and black. For being in uniform, I considered her well-dressed. Her pretty grey blouse had frills along the bottom and her nice black skirt swished freely around her knees as she walked. I assumed she was just walking by, but she stopped at the door and typed in the code with ease.

"Prep time," the girl I've been talking to said.

"What?"

The woman entered, door closing behind her. Her long brown hair appeared naturally wavy, but there were blonde highlights against them. Face smooth, her make-up was light but brought out her features. Including her tightening jaw and brown eyes that met mine. "Albany, it's time for you to get ready."

I raised to my feet, wincing still from the nasty burn. "Get ready?"

The woman proceeded to inform me I would be having dinner tonight with Reid again. I was so stinking hungry, I wouldn't be able to hold out this time. However, the thought of getting all dressed up wasn't appealing. Apparently, that's why this woman was here.

"We will have to get to work right away," she mumbled while glancing over me.

"Get to work?"

"To make you pretty and presentable!" came Erica's high voice. She jumped off the bed and pranced over to me (yeah, pranced... like a fucking gazelle). "She does all our hair, make-up, lets us shower, and provides us with our clothes each day."

Sighing, I stared at the woman several feet away with sympathetic eyes. "You got any rope?"

"Rope?"

"Yeah, you're going to have to tie me down if you think I'm going to get all dolled-up."

"We'll compromise, just come along," she said blankly, waving her hand and turning.

I didn't want to get all dressed up for Reid. Especially if its with slut-clothes. But when the woman cuffed me and opened the door out of this room, I nearly pranced with the same enthusiasm Erica had. Anything to get out of this box.

She guided me only a few feet down the hall. But within those few feet, there was serious temptation to strike her, run, and get out of here. Just to try. During that small window of time, my mind ran through so many scenarios. If I trip her, knock her out, I could get to the elevator. Would it be better if I tried hiding her body first? How will I knock her out? I'm cuffed, but I could use that to my advantage. Cut off her air, choke her from behind....

Too soon, she stopped at a door only a few feet down from the open-view room. Once we went in... I was blown away. It was a huge dressing room, with closets on both sides. Mirrors covered the walls. A makeup vanity with a mirror was positioned in the middle of the room. There were other compartments against the wall – no doubt with jewelry, hair shit, and a gun so I can kill myself if I'm lucky. I also saw a bathroom directly to the left, probably one with an actual shower too.

From there... we 'compromised' as she proposed. Meaning I was a stubborn bitch to her and refused to shower. So, we made a deal. I wouldn't shower and in return, she could do my make-up and clothes. That's right. Gotta stick to my guns about the whole stank and hygiene thing. Hopefully my smell and greasy hair will distract Reid from the make-up. Which included lip stick, natural eye-shadow, mascara, and more. She actually did a good job and didn't go over the top. She asked what I liked, what my taste was, and I said 'I don't know, I haven't tasted anything in so long.' Then, giving up on me, she brought me a pink sundress. There was cleavage showing, but at least I was given a pair of matching flats instead of heels this time.

After I was ready, I was sent back in with the girls where I waited. And waited. Some random men came up to stare at me as I waited. By the time Reid was ready to have dinner, the tiny windows showed it was dark out. So, when I was brought to the same dining room as yesterday, the scenery was slightly different. The curtains were closed over the huge window and the chandelier offered a soft light to the room and massive table.

There was another difference I would have to accept: I needed to eat. I might have considered going another day without eating if it was something disgusting. However, that wasn't the case.

He made his plate of the baked chicken and mashed potatoes that was on the platter before us. Yeah, way too fucking good to pass up. Trying to be as casual about it as I could, I grabbed my knife, stabbed a piece of chicken, and dragged it onto my plate. I didn't bother looking up and over at where he sat at the head of the table again. I acted like it was no big deal, but I could feel his smug eyes on me.

"I'm glad you decided to eat," he said, grabbing the wine bottle and pouring some in my glass. If I'm eating and allowing him that satisfaction, I might as well be a little buzzed.

"Yeah, big fucking deal. The great Albany Higgins can actually consume food," I rolled my eyes, cutting a piece of chicken off. The road from the plate to my mouth felt so long, but oh my god when I took a bite... best chicken I've ever had. It was hard not to shove my face in it.

"The great Albany Higgins can do many things... she just chooses not to," he said, taking a bite of the mashed potatoes.

His words were said casually, but he was implying something. Whatever it was, I didn't like it. Glancing up, his brown eyes were calm in mine, but behind that... was more. "What are you implying?" I asked through my full mouth.

"You haven't made any attempt to escape," he said, eyes searching mine.

Hearing the suspicion in his voice made my insides jump. Despite that, I remained relaxed and even sipped my wine. "It's only day two. An escape attempt would be more of a day 20 hobby."

My stupid remark didn't throw him. "You're not resisting either. And that is not you."

"If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not giving you the fight you want for a reason. I'm not going to be your entertainment," I said, words muffled over me chewing my food after I took another bite of the chicken. "Especially when I know there is no escaping."

The last thing I wanted was him to be suspicious of me. What I said was mostly true anyway. I was not going to give him the satisfaction by rebelling. However, he made it real tempting....

"My goal is to break you down. It's not going to happen for a while because you are strong, stubborn, and a fighter. I'm sorry you don't want to display it." Slipping his hand into his dress pants pocket, he pulled out a pocket knife and flicked up the large blade. He set it between us on the table. "You're right, there is no escaping. You are smart enough to not hope. But if you actually thought there was a chance of success, you would have no reason not to try."

I just stared at him, brows scrunched in disbelief. The guy clearly wanted me to act out, to fight, to try because he is twisted. He was also right though. The chance of success, like killing him, would be worth trying. The end goal for the FBI was Reid Taylor and this place. Though he wanted me to attack him, though I would probably fail... I would have a chance. "Is this a test?"

"No," he answered simply, sitting back in his chair and sipping more wine from the glass. He clearly didn't see me as a threat. He just wanted to see my true colors. But how could I not try? "If you manage killing me, there is your way out," he said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder to the window.

My heart was beating faster. We both knew the chances of me killing him were slim, but there was still the possibility. I took another bite of my chicken. "You're too important to leave it up to this."

"Chaotic and crazy, isn't it?" he said, raising a brow and smiling softly.

That is was these people were about. He really was serious. "If I don't kill you?"

"Then I'll still be alive and able to give you a tour of my empire after dinner," he said nonchalantly. "I'm assuming you—"

As he answered, not expecting it at least, I lunged from my seat while swiping the knife. He didn't have much time to react before I slammed into him and tried stabbing him in the chest. Fuck! He raised his hands in time to block my arm just as we fell to the ground. I was on top of him, knife still in my hand, and I flung my hand down with it to try again. This time, he blocked my arm by catching it before it fully came down.

Hovering over him, trying to wrestle my arm back, I grunted in frustration. So fucking close... and he knew how much I wanted to kill him. There was an excited bright smile over his face, but I wasn't done. I swung my free fist into his cheek.

It knocked his head back against the carpet and to the side. Just as I was about to punch him again, his other hand caught my fist. I was stuck with that knife now hovering between us. So close... and that smile on his face was still there. Staring up at me with admiration. Even when I took my last shot, and kneed him successfully in the crotch over him, that smile only faltered slightly.

Trying to wrestle away from him, or knee him again, he bucked my legs off to the side. He trapped my knees and the loose dress material under his leg within a second. It was so weird, so frustrating being so close to killing him... and just close to him physically. This was Reid Taylor, wanted for years by the FBI, and who wanted me for just as long. Seeing him this close, feeling his chest raise and lower... I hated it. I hated how alive he felt, how real, and how strong he truly was. The worst part was that face. With his smile, there was amusement yet adornment in his eyes. "That's my girl."

"I'm not yours." I pressed forward harder and down with my weight, but my arms in his tight grasp didn't budge. I couldn't get the sharp knife point any closer to his chest. Even still, I didn't stop thrashing, didn't stop trying to break free. None of Luke's moves could get me out of this position so I just struggled. Though I failed, it felt liberating to resist.

"You're beautiful," he said, voice so casual and nice... all while watching me struggle. He finally knocked the knife out of my hand. It landed towards the turned-over chair. It might still be in reach....

But it wasn't. Even calculating in my head potential ways to get the knife, I wouldn't be able to beat Reid to it. Accepting defeat, and sick of how much Reid was loving this, I sighed and stopped struggling. His grip didn't let up and he just stared up at me. A small smile I would almost call sweet caressed his face.

I couldn't stand it. "Okay, I failed, you win. Now, can we get back to dinner?" I groaned. Continuing dinner sounded better than staying over him.

He chuckled. "Sure. Then afterwards, we can start that tour."

***

"My men live in the north wing of the headquarters. The girls are kept in the south in the Containment Area. You've already been through some of it. The girls are placed depending on age, circumstances, their stage of actualization, and if they were contract kids or the ones we collected. Where we are heading now though... is more towards the center where most essential operations take place," he said from where he walked beside me.

"Like what? You guys take bets then measure each other's dicks?"

He chuckled, moving closer to me since the halls started to become congested. Anyone who passed by openly stared at me – and my chest, of course. (Yes, I do have a very nice rack, thank you very much, which this sundress unfortunately helped display). Most of the men that passed by though reminded me of Reid: business like and well dressed. All I could wonder was... where were they all going? Everything was just hallways. The only difference was that the doors we passed had names labeled next to them. Offices maybe?

Then as we continued down the hall, it opened up into what looked like a large lobby. Much different from the isolated hallways, this area was open, spacious, and productive too. Looking around, several other hallways branched off from the lobby. It had a high ceiling, and in the middle of the lobby, there were a few arrangements and sections of where you could sit. Of couches and chairs around glass coffee tables. A couple men occupied some of the seats. I suppose it was the waiting area for psychos... here to meet with other psychos. Along with elevator doors, it had a fucking front desk with a receptionist too against the far-right wall. Yeah. You'd think we just walked into a high-end dentist office!

"This is the main business area. It has offices down these halls where we draw up, discuss, and close on contracts. This is where we also make deals and have meetings with buyers," he said, guiding me towards the other side of the lobby. "Upstairs is my office and personal home above ground. Before we go up though, I want to show you something else first."

My eyes remained on the floor when we passed the seated men. I didn't want to look at them. Didn't want to think of the fucked-up reasons they were here. I almost wished the chip in my arm was a bomb that went off right then; I wanted all of these sick bastards dead.

When we reached another hall and continued walking, there were no doors – besides one. Like where the girls are held, the door was accompanied by a keypad for a passcode. Next to the door were several large windows. Reid slowed to a stop in front of the windows, me doing the same.

Shifting my weight from where I stood next to him, staring inside the room, I didn't know what to think. It was huge, maybe the size of a small gym. There was a long desk facing the windows and door – and I mean long. It took up the span of most of the room. There were maybe a dozen computers lined on the desk with just as many seats. And behind that desk... were rows and rows of bookshelves. Dozens of fucking bookshelves lined all the way to the far back of the huge room. And from the shelves in front, I could see they were stocked with files. Files, files, more files. Countless.

"Do you know what this is?" Reid asked.

"Um... the fucking Library of Congress?" I mumbled, crossing my arms.

I didn't bother looking up at him. He was enjoying this smug tour enough and showing everything off. However, in the reflection of the glass, his head was tilted, and he was staring down at me. He spoke in a softer tone. "Those are the girls. Every file is for one of the girls that have either been through our system, either sold or still here."

My skin erupted in cold chills at every syllable he spoke. He said... every file. And there were a lot of files. It did hit-home the reality of this place. Every file was one innocent and poor girl. Every file, on every shelf, in every row.... Body tense with my folded arms tightening, my eyes immediately watered. There were so many, so many, too many for any one sane person to wrap their head around. It was heartbreaking. It was eye-opening. It was fucking sad.

I didn't look up at Reid. Not just because he was enjoying this. He was the one who did this. I knew he was sick and twisted. I knew this was a big operation; being in here made that more than clear to me. But I never knew... I never would have wanted to suspect that it could have been that bad.

"Ready to continue?" the monster asked after a couple seconds. As if this wasn't a mind-fuck enough, he spoke in such a nonchalant normal tone. How can this guy sound so down to earth, charismatic, yet do such a disgusting thing to so many innocent girls? How?!

I blinked the tears away before any could fall and continued walking, staring down at my hands I clasped together tightly. Seeing that was so upsetting, but it also gave me hope. A lot of hope for many of those girls. When the FBI gets here, they will find these files. Imagine how many missing people might be found if they have those documents....

When we circled back around and crossed the lobby again, we stopped at the elevator doors by the secretary's desk. Probably for him to show off his personal space. I know, talk about excitement. Before Reid could press the button though, we were approached by a man.

"Reid, do you have a sec? I don't mean to interrupt your evening," the man started in a sympathetic voice. Kiss ass.

Just as we turned around, and I could see a conversation was about to start, I tried nonchalantly walking off. Until his hand caught my arm and held me in place. He's lucky he left his knife in the dining room. Even though I'm cuffed, I would have tried to pick his pocket at this point.

"You're fine," Reid reassured, tucking his free hand casually into his pocket. "Did the remainder of the agreement with Melnikov pan out?"

This guy we were facing ran a hand through his even brown hair. It went well with his business attire. "Yes, everything has been settled and scheduled. But Melnikov needs you to go through one last list of conditions. I left it on your desk."

Lovely. Business talk. It would either be boring or disgusting, whatever they were discussing. "Thanks, that'll be fine. Did he approve of our suggested arrival period?"

The corner of the man's lips tilted up. "He said he will have to give you official clearance in a few days... but from the sounds of it, yeah, they'll be ready by then."

"And just when she'll be getting used to it here," Reid chuckled, glancing down to me.

The scale went from a 'boring business' zero to a 'what the fuck do you mean' 100. "What?" I belted out.

Reid patted the man on the shoulder. "Thank you, Daniel."

When Reid released my arm, instead of going up the elevator, we resumed walking and entered another hall. He apologized and said the tour had to be cut short because he had paperwork to attend to. So, he was escorting me back. But it wasn't without me being stubborn. I did not like those words exchanged between him and the other man. It somehow concerned me.

Staring up at him as we walked, persistent, I spoke in a demanding tone. "What was that about? 'Just when I'll be getting used to it here,' what does that mean?"

A twinkle glimmered in his gaze when he glanced down to me. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said nonchalantly, having fun with this. He knew I would ask again.

"Talk," I hissed, coming to a stop.

Hands folded behind his straight back, he stopped and turned on his heels to me. Almost playfully. Cheeks and lips curving in amusement, his enticing eyes angled down and met mine. "For someone who apparently knows she's doomed, you're quite intrigued."

"Just because I'm fucked doesn't mean I don't have my pride."

"Fair enough." Searching my eyes, stepping closer to me, he released a pleasurable sigh. Then, he torpedoed the small string of faith and mental security I had left. "Thanks to you my darling, you've narrowed the FBI's search. The likelihood of them finding this place is slim, but statistics are not how I evaded them for this long. It's not worth the chance. So, we are establishing a new headquarters in western Russia. We will be leaving in about two weeks."

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Well... shit is about to hit the fan! Unless the FBI gets there in time.

Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter, I'm excited to write the next! I know this one was late, but I made this chapter much longer to make up for it!

Though Albany's time in here has been just to get by, and she's been experiencing what daily life could be for her, things might have to change. What do you think? Let me know, I love your input and feedback, it's amazing and very much appreciated!