"Jackson, Bella has her phone on her. We have a location."
I hand Lilah to my mother before I get up.
"You aren't going to like this," Mick says.
My fists clench at my sides. "Tell me," I say through gritted teeth.
"Same motel Ryan sent us to."
I look at my mother. "I have to know if you will keep her. If anything happens to us, to me, to Bella, you will keep her."
"Jackson, get Bella and just bring her home. Both of you just come home to Lilah."
I nod my head, looking at Brenda, who is being wheeled out on a stretcher. She's hanging in there, thank God. She's been shot in the side, and hopefully nothing vital was hit. Her eye is swollen, and there's an egg-shaped bump forming on the side of her head. Clearly, she was whipped with a gun.
"Mom, I need you to promise not leave her sight. Do not leave Lilah alone for a second, not even to go to the bathroom. I'm going to have someone staying with you both, but I still want you to promise not to let her out of your sight."
"I promise, Jackson. Go get Bella."
I nod at her, looking over at Mick as I turn to walk out of the house for the second time today. I pray the next time I walk back in, it will be with Bella.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Bella
They toss me into the backseat, closing the door right behind me. Looking at the door, I notice the door's handles have been removed.
I quickly scan the area, trying to see if I can escape. Chuck must see what I'm doing because he turns around and points the gun at my leg.
"I would hate to fucking shoot you in the leg before I fuck you, but I will. Make one move, bitch, I'll go back and get that little bitch we left behind."
I sit up straight, looking out the window at the houses while we pass through. My hands are shaking in my lap.
We pull up to a rundown motel, and my heart starts beating faster. The motel's sign is only partially lit.
We pull up in front of room number eight. The door opens, and Adam grabs my arm to yank me out. I look up at the motel's worn exterior, and I absently notice it must have been brown at some point, but years of not performing routine maintenance and weather have faded it to a dark, dingy tan. Each door is supposed to be white, but like everything else covered with dirt and grime and faded from the sun, they look dirty and yellowed. The number on the door is gold-plated with pieces of the gold chipped off. Each window has those plastic vertical blinds covering it. Some are missing pieces and some are closed.
I try to talk to Adam before Chuck gets out of the car. "Please, Adam, don't do this. Think of Lilah," I whisper to him.
Chuck closes his door, pulling out the key to open the room. Adam drags me right in with him.
I look around, taking in the filth of the room. The smell of urine is so profound, my eyes burn and I can't hold back the gag. It's unbearable.
There is one bed in the middle of the room, dirty sheets askew, half on the bed, half off. One lone chair in the corner of the room is blue with obvious blood stains on it. Carelessly discarded, used needles litter the floor all around us.
An old television sits on a cheap, dusty stand facing the bed. The television is on, tuned to The Shopping Network.
I continue scanning the room when my eyes land on three teenage girls huddled in a corner of the room and chained to the wall.
All three are wearing sheer camisoles, with no bras and sheer underwear, leaving little to the imagination. All three are filthy with greasy, stringy hair, and it's obvious none of them have bathed in quite a while. Their eyes are puffy and closed, like they are napping.
Their arms show round, fingertip-shaped bruises, but it's the swollen, red needle marks along the inside of their elbows that have me gasping aloud.
Their hands are clipped with a chain to the wall. I can see the dirt under their chipped fingernails. My heart aches for these young girls as I take in what appears to be dried blood crusted over on their inner thighs. Their panties are almost non-existent, brownish reddish stains covering them in the front.
One of the girls must hear the commotion of us coming in and rolls her head in our direction and opens her eyes.
They are vacant, like she's here but she really isn't here.
Chuck walks over to her, nudging her leg to the side, squatting down next to her. "Look at this, Lori, we brought you another bitch to train."
The minute he says her name, I know she's the girl Jackson is looking for, Marissa's daughter. Clearly, she didn't run away. She's been kidnapped.
These girls were taken from their families and have been forced to stay here.
She doesn't say anything. Only a groan escapes out of her mouth as her head lolls from side to side against the wall.
He leans down, pinching her nipple. A pained whimper escapes her. She tries to raise her hand to slap him away, but it falls limply down with a thud.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Adam. How much shit did you give them?" Chuck asks, looking over at Adam, who stands next to me.
"Just enough to last the night. It's Friday night. We already have eight guys lined up."
I turn around to look at him, and that's all I can take. I heave and vomit bile all over the side of me.
I don't even stop when Adam kicks me, sending me flying across the room. I lose my balance, hitting my head on the corner of the one nightstand in the room.
I land face down on the wet, urine soaked carpet. I reach up to touch my forehead and wipe at the blood dripping down the side of my face.
"Don't fucking touch her face. She's going to be our money cow." Chucks leans down, gripping my hair, and pulling me up.
My cries of pain fill the room. Adam ignores it as he goes looking for his next fix.
Chuck grips my chin, squeezing it so hard I think he might crack my jaw.
"Did you miss me, Bella?" he asks while he pushes me against the wall by the bed. The paint has started chipping off of it, and there are dirty, yellowed streaks where water must have run down the walls at some point.
I look away, trying to block out what is happening. Chuck has me boxed in and is dragging the gun down the middle of my chest, bringing the V of my T-shirt down with it, exposing my white bra. "Hmmm, look at these tits. They filled out good," he says while he takes the barrel of the gun and rubs it over my nipple.
A sob rips from my mouth before I can stop it. "Don't worry, beautiful Bella. If you don't want me in that pussy, I'll take your ass." He goes to the next nipple.
Chuck turns around and looks at me. "You're not worth all this fucking bullshit." He slaps me across the face, and the stinging pain rattles through my skull.
"Get a needle ready. Someone is going to fly with unicorns," Chuck tells Adam as he throws me onto the bed like a rag doll and begins roughly ripping off my clothes.
"Hurry the fuck up, Adam. I want to fuck her before the johns get here and we sell these bitches tonight." Chuck has ripped off my shirt and bra, leaving me just in my shorts.
Adam walks out of the bathroom, syringe filled with a brown liquid. I try to block myself, but Chuck yanks my arm back, twisting it.
"Hurry up and shoot her up," Chuck says while untying my shorts button.
Adam comes over, gripping my hand. "Please don't do this, Adam, please."
Chuck sits on me so I can't move while Adam ties an elastic band around my arm.
"Don't worry, Bella, you'll love it." He smiles at me as he grabs my arm, tapping on it, looking for a vein. He roughly shoves the needle into my flesh and shoots the liquid into me.
It burns at first, the liquid warming up my veins. It takes about five seconds for me to feel like my body is disconnecting from itself.
It's like I'm here but my mind is going away.
I can't fight off whatever is going on. I don't think I can move my hands. I just close my eyes, letting the feeling of being able to fly run through me.
I feel my shorts being ripped off my legs and then I hear a thud.
"What the fuck is this? FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK!!!" Chuck yells.
"Turn it off. It could be tracking our location," Adam says.
I guess they must have found my phone. That's right. Jackson must know where I am. I just have to hold on. He's coming to save me. This will be over soon. I hope.
I hear a phone ringing somewhere in the room. "FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!" Adam comes running out of the bathroom, whipping off the elastic band, a drop of blood coming out of the vein he just shot up in.
Chuck turns around to look at him. "It was Jasmine at the front desk. She said the cops are on their way up. They're here. They fucking found us." He is pacing the room now.
That's the last thing I hear before I think now is a good time to just take a little nap.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Adam
This whole fucking day has been a clusterfuck. Starting with the phone call from Ryan telling us the cops were at his door.
Then we put our plan to grab Bella into motion. If anything just to fuck with Jackson. Finding her was so fucking easy. All I did was watch my mother's house.