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"With Zane," Lily mumbled.

"What?" I leaned back with shock.

"They're kind of a thing," she explained.

"No," Phoebe interjected. "He use her."

"Not all the time.” Lily yawned. "He says he likes her."

"And I can say a lot of things," Phoebe spat. "Doesn't mean true."

"Whatever.” Lily flipped her hand in the air. "He can be sweet sometimes. Plus he's hot. She's lucky."

Phoebe looked at me and shook her head. "She don't get it," she mouthed to me.
 

I nodded in agreement, knowing there was nothing sweet about Zane.
 

"I'm tired," she said with a yawn. "Go to sleep now."
 

My eyebrows pushed together and I looked at Lily. What the hell would make her think Zane was sweet? I couldn’t refute the fact that he was hot. He had a smile that could literally charm the pants off of almost every woman he met. Zane was nothing but a cold-hearted psychopath.
 

The basement door opened, bumping into the wall. The scent of his cologne made my skin crawl.
Think of the devil, and he shall appear.
Looking sleek and sexy dressed in all black, Zane slid around the corner. His tantalizing, blue eyes flitted around the room and settled on me.

"Hello, Adeline," he said, his voice smooth and deep, making me want to puke. He flashed a smile. I glowered at him, waiting for his eyes to turn back as he revealed himself as the demon he really was. "Time for work."

"Work?" I asked, my voice dying in my throat. I had stepped backwards off of a sharp cliff and was falling down, down, down, ripping through frozen clouds. Sharp icicles tore into my flesh. "It's the afternoon," I blurted.

Zane laughed. "So?" He moved with cat-like grace across the floor. "Get dressed. Nothing too flashy. You're going into the city."

"I am?" Something other than fear ran through me. I wasn't sure just what city he was referring to, but there was one thing all cities had in common: people. Lots and lots of people. This was my chance! All I had to do was run, scream, or make a scene and someone would come to my aid. But would I be putting my family at risk? No, I had to try, right? I could get to the police before Zane or Nate could get to my house.

I stood and dizzily walked over to the clothes. I randomly grabbed a garment and pulled it from a hanger. I didn’t care what I looked like. What I cared about was coming up with a plan of attack. Or escape. Or whatever the hell would get me away from Zane.
 

I turned away from Zane and pulled the long sleeved t-shirt I was wearing over my head, trading it for a white dress. I put it on backwards. The tag tickled my neck. I twisted it again and straightened the hem before taking off my pajama pants.
 

Zane impatiently drummed his fingers on the chipping drywall that encased the stairwell. I turned around and hesitantly walked to him. His eyes trailed up and down my body. He frowned and then shrugged.
 

"Good enough," he mumbled and went up the stairs.
 

My pulse fluttered through me. I cast a glance behind me.
I’ll save you too
, I thought to Phoebe and Lily. My hand shook when I extended it. I wrapped my fingers around the splintering railing and put my foot on the first step. This was it. My chance. Finally, I would be free.

 
I blinked from the bright, natural light that streamed into the kitchen. The windows were open, and a soft breeze blew through the large room. I stopped in my tracks and breathed it in. I hadn’t left the basement since my failed attempt at running away. The fresh air felt wonderful.

Zane grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. "Come on," he grumbled. My bare feet stuck to the tile and I skidded forward. Zane halted and looked down. "Where are your shoes?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. They were removed the night Travis hit me with his car and I hadn't seen them since.
 

“Don’t move,” he said gruffly and stormed off.
 

Once he exited the room, I ran through the kitchen to the backdoor. I put my hand on the knob and twisted it unsuccessfully before I noticed the electronic keypad. My parents had a similar one installed on the front door of their house, though theirs was wired to a security system company and allowed my parents to lock and unlock the door with an app on their phones.

I ran my fingers over the smooth keypad and felt my chance of getting out slip away. I stared at the numbers and felt compelled to try a random combination. I extended my index finger and stopped in fear of setting off an alarm. Logic jolted my brain, and I ran back to where Zane had left me not a moment too soon.

"Here," he said and tossed my shoes at me.
 

I bent down and put them on. The shoes had been new. Now they were stained with mud from running through the forest. Several drops of blood spotted the toe of the right shoe.
 

"Hurry the fuck up.” He pushed me.

 
Already off balance from leaning over, I tumbled to the ground. A sickening crunch vibrated in my knee as the bone rolled against the hard floor. I scrambled up and stuck my feet in my shoes. I could lace them in the car.

Nerves began to bubble in my stomach when I stood. Zane grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the foyer. He stopped at the front door, using his body to block the keypad that this door also boasted. I counted four short beeps followed by one long beep and assumed that I needed a combination with four numbers to get out. I tried to come up with the number of possibilities that left me with, but came up empty handed. Math was never my strong point, but I knew it was a lot, a whole fucking lot.

We exited through the dark oak door onto a covered porch that ran the length of the farmhouse. Two white rocking chairs were angled around a little white round table. Baskets of red flowers hung in between each post on the porch, and a terra cotta pot of tiny yellow flowers sat on the first step down.

My pace slowed as I took it all in. The picture-perfectness of it all was unnerving. White and purple petunias followed the cobblestone path around the house and to the driveway. I had just noticed Jackson, who was shirtless and pulling up weeds by the mailbox, when Zane whirled around.

“Do you try to be this fucking slow?” He was right in my face, reaching for my wrist. I snatched my arm back just in time avoiding his touch.
 

"Keep your hands off me.” I narrowed my eyes, but my voice quivered more than I would have liked.
 

Zane only laughed and reached into his pocket, pulling out car keys. He turned back around and pressed a button, unlocking a brand new black Camaro. He opened the passenger door for me, and for a split second, I thought he was being polite before I realized he was making sure I got in the car and didn't book it as soon as his ass hit the driver's seat.

I clenched my jaw and got inside. Hot, stale air choked me. Zane slammed the door shut and hurried around to the other side. My hands shook as I reached for the seatbelt. The metal was hot and hurt my fingers when I touched it. Zane slid into his seat with grace. He opened the windows and turned up the air before turning on the radio to a local alternative station. I hated that he liked the same kind of music that I did.

Jackson straightened up when the engine revved, and we made our way down the long driveway. Jackson wiped sweat from his forehead, pushing his long hair back behind his ears. My eyes darted past him to the mailbox, trying to see the address of this forsaken place. I leaned forward to get a better look.

"Like what you see?" Zane snickered.

"What?" I replied automatically. "Oh." He thought I was checking out Jackson, who was surprisingly fit and tan. I gave my head a slight shake, not caring what Zane thought. I leaned back in the seat and nervously picked at my cuticles, trying to pay as much attention as possible to the landmarks and street names that we passed as we made our way into the city. I would need to know them when I sent the police to save the other girls.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE SKIN AROUND my fingernails was almost raw by the time Zane pulled into the back lot of an apartment complex that looked like it had seen its prime thirty years ago. People milled about, soaking up the hot, July sun. The sight of anyone other than my forced roommates caused hope to blossom in my heart. A smile subconsciously tugged at the corners of my lips, and I just knew
someone
would be able to help me. I put my hand on the door handle, reminding myself not to appear excited, or Zane would get suspicious.
 

"Oh, Adeline," he said, his voice calm and low. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. "Does your dad ever take the Chevelle out of the garage? A nice classic like that deserves to be showed off."

A painful chill ran through my body. "H-how?" I stuttered, my head slowly shaking from side to side.
 

Zane flashed me a perfect smile, revealing his straight, white teeth. He cut the engine and hit the lock. My breath quickened as panic rose. My dad hadn't taken the '72 Chevelle out of the garage in years. He
couldn't,
since it didn't have an engine. It was his project that was put on the back burner when he and my mother opened the new gallery. I was falling again, faster and faster, until I plummeted into darkness. My ears rang. I swayed in my seat, suddenly lightheaded. There was only one way Zane would have known about the car.

"It's a shame your mom neglected her rose bushes this summer. They must really miss you."
 
His face remained expressionless, but there was pleasure in his eyes. He was enjoying every minute of this.

"You … you've been to my house," I finally said. The ringing got louder.
 

Zane's blue eyes flashed and he smiled once more. "Your sister … what's her name … Arianna, right? She's pretty. She looks a lot like you but with gold highlights. You almost can't see them. But when the sun hits her just the right way, they sparkle."

Anger shot through me at the sound of my sister’s name. I twisted in my seat, my fingers curling into fists. “If you touch her—"
 

"You'll what?" Zane cut me off. "Hit me? Spit on me?" he laughed. "I won't have to touch her if you behave," he reminded me. "It's funny how fast I can get someone to your house.”

"What?" I spoke, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
No.
He was lying. He had to be lying.

He laughed, deep and throaty, reminding me of a wild animal. "You think it's just us?"
 
He leaned in close so that he was only inches away from me. “Nate’s well connected. Don’t you ever forget that. Fuck up once and all it will take is one phone call.” He bit his lip and smiled. His teeth were perfectly straight and unnaturally white. “We
own
you, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

He laughed, his breath hot on my face. He pushed my hair back behind my ear and trailed his fingers down my neck and across my chest. “Just be a good girl, Adeline,” he whispered. “And you’ll have nothing to worry about. Listen to me and no one gets hurt.” He tipped his head to the side and softened his face. He held my gaze, waiting for me to break and agree with him, to beg him not to hurt my family.

Instead, I slapped him.

It flipped a switch. Zane moved so fast that it was just a blur. He dove over the center console and grabbed my shoulders. He shoved me back against the seat. Black storm clouds covered his sky-blue eyes. Psychotic rage twisted his face into something horrible.

Then he stopped. With a snarl he pulled back and looked outside. The windows were tinted, but if anyone was close enough, they could see the exchange, and that would call attention to us.
Maybe I should slap Zane again.

He jerked his body back and threw open the door. He stiffly exited the car. I let out a breath, my hands flying to my chest.
Holy shit.
Zane opened my door, still huffing. He reached into the car and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. My skin prickled under his touch. I yanked my arm back, half expecting to see my flesh charred and black from his touch. He grabbed me with his other hand and yanked me out.

My feet scuffed against the pavement.
You think it's just us?
He had been to my house. He had fucking been to my house.
You think it’s just us?
Just
how
many people could he have working for him? I swallowed my pounding heart and shuffled past a windowless red van.

Nervous sweat rolled down my back, amplified by the beating sun. A group of kids screamed and laughed as they ran through a sprinkler in the parking lot. A few teenage boys huddled in the limited shade of a broken umbrella on a picnic table. Weeds grew in almost every crack in the sidewalk. Ants scurried around a popsicle stick. Zane went out of his way to stomp on them.
 

He pushed open the handprint-covered glass door to the front of the apartment complex. The lobby wasn't air-conditioned, and it reeked of body odor, water damage, and smoke. Zane pulled me up a flight of rose-colored carpeted stairs.
 

Everything began to feel surreal again as my mind checked out, unable to process what was going to happen. The muscles in my arms went slack as we walked down a hall. Zane stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He pounded on it, stepped back, and waited. It only took a few seconds for it to open.
 

A man stepped out. He appeared to be in his late twenties and was only about an inch taller than me. His wavy, blonde hair was oily and matted to his forehead. He had dark hazel eyes that slid up and down my body. I grimaced when he smiled, recoiling at his missing teeth. The few he had left were yellow. The skin around his nose and mouth was raw and red. The fact that this guy was most likely high from huffing household cleaners scared me.

"Got the money?" Zane asked, getting right to business.

"Yup. Here 'ya go.” The guy dug a wad of cash out of his pocket. Zane smoothed out the twenties and counted it twice.

"One hour," Zane said and shoved me forward into the cruddy apartment before he spun around and casually walked down the hall.