.Chapter 18

It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, I chant to myself in my head, forcing my eyes which feel really gritty open, only to see nothing more than darkness surrounding me. Wherever I am theres’ not much light to see.

My head is f*****g throbbing and I wince as I try to move my arms and legs to no avail. Something was chaffing and I looked down to see that I was firmly tied to a chair, my legs tied to the legs and my arms behind me. I swear, but it’s muffled by the gag that’s been shoved in my mouth and tied around my head.

“Mmmf” I cry out but there’s no answer and my eyes scan whatever the hell this room is for any sign of escape.

It appears to be a basement of some sort, the floor a hard concrete, various pieces of furniture in states of decay.

The air smells disgusting and moldy and I try not to inhale too much. There’s nothing that I can use to free myself and I feel sick to my stomach.

Even on the baddest of days I had never once thought my father was capable of selling me to someone for money. I thought maybe, in the smallest bit of his heart he might have actually given some sort of damn about me.

How naive was I? He’d never forgiven me for mother’s death and if he wanted to destroy any love I might have had for him, this was the way to do it. I shove frantically at the chair, scraping it across the floor and curse at the noise it makes. Maybe theres something in one of the drawers of the various furniture that might have something useful.

But as I’m moving something catches the corner of my eye and I whip my head around and begin to feel a rising sense of panic.

in the basement but it’s almost new, and it’s made up. Why would a bed be made up in a basement? There was only one answer that came to mind and it wasn’t a good one. I need to get out of here and god I need to

no telling when whoever had bought me

as I sort of drag it with my body, careful not to tip over and fall. It makes a racket but I’m past the point of caring, my only focus is getting out of here before it’s too late. I can’t

don’t have much give. I wonder about using the corner of the desk to rub the ropes against but it would take forever

try to scream for help but the gag just muffles everything I try and

know if I’m even in the same town let alone if I’m close to the pack house. I don’t even know how long I’ve been out for. What if I’ve been taken to a different town? Would my brother Damien come looking for me or would

eyes and I break down crying, sniveling as I wait for the inevitable. I know what the person

I couldn’t talk my way out of it,

ropes seem to be slightly looser and I wiggle and pull and tug as hard

to get slack. Way

Sitting doesn’t make it easier, and I’m forced to stay lying down as I tug and pull, swearing to myself. I take the gag off and am about to call out for help when I stop. If I call out he, whoever he was, would hear me. For all I knew he was upstairs waiting for me to wake

and needles.

for any windows or doors besides the exit and

go up. A weapon would be useful

for support as I make my

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