Page 13 of Reckless Desires

“Could be worse,” she admits, not looking at me. “They could kill and gut you to stuff you with drugs, using your body as a vessel.”

Her words leave a revolting taste in my mouth. How many women have fallen prey to this darkness? Was the Costello Family part of this world as well?

I press my lips into a thin line, letting her get the cuffs off. Anger and humiliation consume me. Slowly rubbing my wrists marred with painful red marks, I glare at her while still glancing around for something I might be able to use as a weapon. Although she looks like she could kick my ass in a fight, with biceps like she bench-presses skyscrapers for fun. One flick of her finger would toss me across the room.

“Usually, I catch people’s names before I flash them my tits.”

There’s a bitter smirk on her face. “That will change fast enough. There’s nothing you can do against these people. They always get what they want.” She turns the handle of the shower, letting the water shoot out of the showerhead. “Now, strip. This might be the only shower you get for days.” Sitting down and crossing her arms, looking comfortable, she continues, “It's going to get a little worse before it gets better, but soon enough, you're going to be sold to somebody with enough money to take care of you properly.” There’s a faraway look in her eyes that has me thinking she’s seen horrible things.

A sick feeling lodges deep in my stomach, bile rising in the back of my throat again.

“How can you do this? How do you sleep at night helping these monsters?” My heart feels heavy.

Reluctantly, I remove my clothes and step into the steam-filled shower, letting the hot water come down like a cleansing baptism. There’s a bar of soap that I reach for and scrub myself with. The first pass feels futile, so I go over my body again, taking my time as the water turns cold. I am left raw and trembling while I wash my hair, coming to terms with the fact that I may never experience such luxury again.

When I step out, the woman hands me a towel, and I wrap it around my body.

“You don't feel any shame about doing this to another woman?” Bile floods in the back of my raw throat, leaving me with a foul taste in my mouth. “Have you ever even thought once about what this means?”

Her gaze is still on mine, a hard look in her eyes. “I told you these people get what they want—always. I left you clothes on the bed. You can either dress yourself, or I’ll get those men to come do it for you.”

I swallow hard, looking between her and the clothing.

“I'll get dressed,” I say. What other option do I really have?

“Good. My name is Farrah, by the way,” she says. “Get dressed quickly. We’re expected on the upper deck soon.” She seems eager to go.

“You don’t want to know my name?”

“Liliana isn’t it?” she states. “I know exactly who you are.”

“So you know if you don’t help me, you’ll suffer the same fate as them when I’m found.”

The look of pity in her eyes says it all. “No one finds us.”

Her words leave me speechless.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” Farrah says. She hands me the tight black tank top. The V stretches low. “You need to put this on too. Socks and sneakers and that hoodie over there as well. You're going to want whatever you can to stay warm, and don't share with anybody else. The women there aren't your friends, and they'll turn on you.”

“I can handle myself,” I spit out.

She grabs me by the shoulders after I pull the tank top on. “I don't care what you think you know. Once you get in there, those women are vicious. If they think that turning you over for something you did or said is going to give them a chance at survival or at not being sold off, they're going to do it.”

“Sounds like another day as a socialite.”

Shaking me just a little. “You've lived a good life. Your family's paid for everything. You've never had to wonder about where money or food are going to come from. You could rely on others and know that it would be just fine. Most of them in here aren’t like that.”

“I've had my share of hardships.”

“Nothing like what they've had, though. You can't compete. Don't even try. Keep your mouth shut. Don't draw attention to yourself. Just try to hold on until the auction.”

“And what's going to happen after that?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying up the white sneakers.

“You hope for the best. I know this is scary. You're going to be able to get through this, though, okay?”

“I’m going to kill myself, Farrah.” My voice breaks. “I won’t live the rest of my life like this.”

She looks at me like she’s heard this a thousand times before. She pulls me into a tight hug, holding me as tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.