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Authors: Melissa Jane

BOOK: Little Doll
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The man’s
kind expression turned to a frown as he considered my words, but after a few beats he registered what I was asking. He looked at the photo again, but no recognition flickered in his eyes.

“No
, señorita,” he replied indifferently, shrugging his shoulders before skirting around me.

I knew it was like finding a needle in a haystack and my self-assurance was
waning as I received the same standard reply from all the women and men I passed on the street or, at least, those who would give me the time of day.

Having walked at least two blocks from La Sans Inn
, I headed down a small laneway that oddly had more people dining than any of the main roads I had ventured along. Determinedly, I moved to the first café where sat at least twenty customers. The noise emanating from the congregation was boisterous and I briefly reconsidered approaching the tables, unsure as to what reception I would receive from people who were trying to enjoy their afternoon without being hassled.

I strolled
forward taking note of the patrons who were predominately men. Approaching tentatively, I avoided eye contact with the diners, feeling my body involuntarily heat up from the inside out, my face turning an unflattering shade of crimson. I realized then I wasn’t cut out for wild goose chases.

One by
one, more heads turned my way as I stood in the center of the café. An unfriendly and particularly rough-looking waitress approached me. She looked at me through bored eyes with an expression that said ‘don’t waste my time’.


Te puedo ayudar?” she asked flatly while excessively chewing on a piece of gum.

“Ah, I’m sorry I don’t…
,” I stumbled even in English, growing flustered as I tried to decipher her words clogging up my brain. “My brother is missing. I want to know if anyone has seen him,” I explained slowly.

She snatched the
image from my hand and chewed loudly enough on her gum that I could hear the saliva in her mouth being sloshed around. After a moment of consideration, she then waved the paper around for the other diners to see yelling something in a gravelly Spanish voice.

The men
and few women gave her a cursory one second glance before losing interest and resuming their conversations with the exception of one man who sat only a few feet from me. With one ankle propped up on his knee and a small cup of coffee spinning in circles between two fingers, the man’s lazy eyes indecently roamed the length of my body. His curious gaze settled on mine long enough to make the tiny hairs on my arms and neck bristle and my palms become sweaty.

The man
began talking to his companion opposite, but still his blackish impenetrable eyes remained focused on me, the intensity of his stare unwavering. I couldn’t help but observe he was disarmingly attractive with luscious caramel skin. Dressed sharply, he practically oozed confidence, yet beneath all that beauty I could also sense a rampant danger to him that made the direct attention he was giving me even more unnerving. His jet black hair was stylishly gelled back, accentuating the strong jaw line tipped with a groomed goatee.

The
dark and dangerous stranger’s eyes narrowed as he studied me, sending my stomach into a nervous flutter. Memorized, I watched as his ringed forefinger repeatedly ran the length of his jaw line in contemplation. There was a twitch, a small smirk perhaps as he took in my uncomfortable state.


Señorita!”

T
he waitress’s hostile bark woke me with a fright from the hypnotic trance. She held the flyer firmly against my thudding chest, cocking an impatient eyebrow.


No one has seen.”

The inhos
pitable woman rolled her eyes dramatically before stalking off back inside, leaving me alone in the center of the café amongst the curious onlookers.

Turning to leave, I could still feel Dark and Dangerous eyes burning into me
at full ferocity.

Losing my nerve
, I decided to call the fruitless day quits.

 

Chapter
Two

Laila

 

To say I wasn’t losing my mind to the inescapable clutches of terror
would be a complete lie.

Having returned to the hotel of contaminated doom, I had fallen into a restless slumber
when that familiar feeling of being watched returned. My eyes flew open and my pounding heart lodged itself firmly in my throat.

There, no less than one foot away
had been a man baring a gold front tooth in a satisfied smirk.

“Goodnight
, sweetheart,” he had said, before the butt of his pistol smashed against my skull.

I didn’t know who the snarling man was or how long I had been knocked out.
All I knew was I had woken up to uncomfortable heat and juvenile jokes being ping-ponged between my captors.

My stomach somersaulted as we
pulled to a stop and, although I couldn’t see anything, I heard the back doors open and the sound of feet scuffling on the vehicle floor. Hands wrapped around my ankles and hooked under my arms brusquely. In a matter of seconds, I was lifted off the floor and carried out into the open where the warm breeze tickled the sweat layering my body. I didn’t struggle, there was no use. I was bound and hooded and stood no chance of escaping.

My recent ambition
to save my brother was now replaced with absolute terror for my own life. No clues were offered and all conversation had stopped while I was carried for a short distance, then dragged onto the back seat of a car. My captives took no particular care in doing this and I could feel the seatbelt buckles digging sharply into my bruised rib cage and thigh. A blanket was thrown over the top of me covering my body from head to toe, trapping the unwanted heat of the day closely around me.

Perspiration snaked its paths around my body and saturated my clothing
anew, bringing the awful sensation of claustrophobia that much closer. Despite all efforts to stay in the present throughout my groggy haze, my eyelids were growing heavy and my mind drifted to and from a dark place.

The t
wo car doors in the front simultaneously slammed closed indicating there were now two captors, a few less than earlier. The stark reality of this nightmare hit me like a freight train, causing a drastic increase in my state of panic which, up until this point, I hadn’t deemed possible.

We
had not been travelling long when the car came to a gentle stop, the engine still running. There was an exchange of Spanish dialogue between one of the men in the front and a man outside the vehicle. While I could not understand what was being said, I knew they were not prospective saviors. From the sounds of occasional laughter, their rapid banter began fairly friendly; however, as it progressed, the tone took on a sudden edge and the man outside the car became increasingly aggressive.

The heavy blanket that was now
soaked in my sweat was lifted from my feet and over my waist. I welcomed the feeling of fresh air against my skin, however short lived it would be. A large, meaty hand lay open-palmed on my knee and I froze with fear, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. As the conversation continued between the men, the intrusive hand travelled slowly from my knee up to my thigh. The cotton skirt I was wearing now sat around my waist revealing my underwear. The sound of my overactive beating heart sounded like drums in my ears and my silent fretting brought on a wave of nausea.

The hand
paused for a brief moment before it roughly cupped between my thighs. Feeling dazed and lightheaded, I released the breath I had been holding in, yet it did little to quell the urge to be sick. My body trembled despite my best efforts to remain still. I squeezed my thighs tightly together and the intrusive hand pulled away, its absence a welcome relief.

J
olted from my thoughts, a frightened scream escaped my mouth as the open-palmed hand returned, slapping my tender upper thigh. The unrelenting sting brought a flood of tears to my eyes and my wounded pride ached from listening to more barbaric laughter from my captives.

For a second time, pain catapulted through me
as the hand came slapping down on my thigh again. My abuser rubbed over the flaming skin before squeezing tightly and finally releasing. Keeping my mouth tightly sealed, I suppressed my anger, and suffered quietly.

The heavy blanket was th
rown back over my legs when the car surged forward. A hand, presumably the one that hurt me, lifted the hood over half my face and covered my mouth with a cloth that carried a strange faint sweet scent. As the fumes quickly invaded my airways, I became light-headed and sick in the stomach knowing I was being driven closer and closer to my death.

***

I awoke with something akin to a hangover; my mouth felt yet again as if all the moisture had been sucked from it. The soft pillow nursing my head did little to ease the incessant pounding in my brain. My arms were beside me, indicating I had at least been untied; my legs also sensed unbound freedom. I didn’t know if I was alone and was almost too scared to know the answer. Giving myself a stern talking to, I willed my eyes to open.

What greeted me was a
virtually blackened room except for a skinny strip of sunlight penetrating through a gap in the heavy. From what I could see in my position, I was in some grand bedroom. The strip of light shone over an embroidered ornate chair to my right and, above me, the ceiling was framed with elaborate cornicing. Although it was dark I could tell the room didn’t lack in sophisticated décor.

Oh
shit!
This was
not
La Sans Inn. Bolting upright, instant dread consumed every inch of my body taking little consideration of my throbbing brain.

When I looked down
, a shriek of terror diffused by my hoarse dry throat forced its way past my lips. “The fuck…”
I could barely breathe. I had been lying here, for god knew how long, completely and utterly naked, vulnerable to the elements!

My stomach churned
and my hands shook as I felt between my legs for any signs of violation. Instant relief greeted me.

Leaning
to the right, I pulled my legs over the edge of the bed. My toes touched the thick plush carpet as I bent forward and I put all my weight on my feet. Like a rag doll, I collapsed to the floor, my knees unable to hold my weight. Whatever they had drugged me with was still knocking me around. I could only pray its effects would wear off sooner rather than later. I didn’t know this place and I certainly had no plans to stick around to find out who else lived here.

After a
few steadying breaths, I crawled on all fours, following the streak of light that cut a severe line across the carpet. The window was less than two yards away, but it felt like a lifetime before I reached it. Clutching desperately at the patterned drapes, I used them to steady myself as I clambered to my feet. Pulling the thick fabric aside, I was instantly blinded by the white brightness of the sunlight. I recoiled from the glare and squeezed my eyes closed to ease the assault yet it did nothing to stop the throbbing behind my eyeballs.

Gradually opening my eyes, giving them time to adjust,
I took in the view before me. The window pane was guarded by eight vertical iron bars that only brought the reality of my prison closer to home, but beyond the bars and glass lay a very beautiful and picturesque freedom. I stood in awe at the endless garden that stretched as far as the eye could see with a variety of mixed green and colored lush flora surrounded by marbled pavers and grand statues. My heart thudded when I spotted three men dressed in black wandering idly around sporting large machine guns. I was two stories up but even if I did manage an escape I would have the guards to contend with.

Turning
to investigate more of the room, I saw just how grand the furnishings were. The large intricately crafted double ended mahogany bed in the center of the room did not compromise the generous floor space. The walls were covered with a patterned gold leaf and filigree design that in many a household would have looked incredible tacky, but here it only added to the grandeur. A side dresser, an ornate chair with stunning detailed upholstery and a small round table added a hospitable touch.

However,
I cared nothing for the furniture when my eyes fell on the bottle of water waiting for me on the small table. With my tongue feeling as though it was stuck with glue to the roof of my mouth, I stumbled over to what I prayed wasn’t a mirage. Not even the broken seal fazed me as I emptied half the bottle in just a few eager gulps. Gasping frantically for air, I wiped the trails of water that spilled down my chin with the back of my hand before going back for more. I drank so fast it caused my head to spin like a blood rush, the room becoming nothing more than a blur as I clutched desperately to the ornate chair beside me. Moments passed yet the dizziness persisted.

What
the hell was happening?

Suddenly lethargic,
my legs gave out from beneath me for the second time in five minutes and, before I hit the floor, my world once again met darkness.

***

I wanted to believe it was just a cruel case of déjà vu but I knew better. My circumstance hadn’t changed and this really wasn’t a bad dream.

Someone had moved me back onto the bed.
My muscles again felt so weak they actually hurt from inactivity and much to my horror, I was still naked, and, I desperately needed to pee.

A
n already ajar door to my left looked promising and a surge of excitement swept through me. Slipping to the floor, I crawled toward my target. I spotted the gleam of a toilet bowl in the near darkness. Crossing the cool tiles on my hands and knees, I made a bee line to the bowl and, as if on cue, my stomach hurled up what little was in it. It was mostly liquid, from the water I had guzzled earlier. It felt good to bring it up even though it was nothing of substance then, before I could flush, my bladder threatened to let go. Pushing myself upright, I crawled onto the seat and relieved myself. I sat there, numb, for a long while, studying my surroundings and trying to make sense in my head as to what was going on. A large shower was to the left and a gold-clawed bath was to the right of the toilet. Along with not knowing the last time I ate, I had no idea when I had taken my last shower. I didn’t even know what day it was or how many days had passed.

L
eaning against the marble hand basin, I noticed a range of hygiene products placed neatly to the left. Roll-on deodorant, facial cleanser and moisturizer and a small travel shaver. Picking up the razor I studied the thin blade and realized no damage could be done with it if I wanted to cause someone harm.

After washing my hands, rinsing my mouth and splashing my face
with water, I walked slowly back into the darkened room using the edge of the bed as my guide.

I was certain I hadn’t seen it
before, but in my hurry it was easily missed. On the small mahogany table sat a small bowl of flavored rice. I was hungry and needed the energy, desperately. Wolfing it down in only a few mouthfuls I relished the feeling of having consumed something.

Closing my eyes
, I allowed the food to settle. The ornate chair wasn’t overly comfortable and lacked practicality; however, after a few moments I found my body molding into the lack of padding, my muscles relaxing to a point where I could no longer feel them.

***

When I woke on what I could only imagine to be the following day, disappointment hit me and my sob broke the silence in the room. Tears ran back across my temples and into the fold of my ears. But I didn’t care. Depression was looming, threatening me with its dark and dangerous clouds and I could do nothing to stop it. The food, the water, it was all making sense. Everything was drugged.

Although I wasn’t sure how long I could go without food and water, I
knew for my own safety that consuming their drug-laced offerings was now off the menu. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but the thought someone here was intentionally keeping me sedated chilled me to the bone. For what purpose it served, I had no idea.

A shadow
startled me from my thoughts as it darted from the bedroom door to the right. A second later a soft hand clasped firmly over my mouth, my heavy breathing muffled by the fingers of my silencer. A few moments passed and a face appeared over mine. It was a woman.

She was a L
atina in her mid-twenties, beautiful but not strikingly so. She put her mouth down to my ear, her long dark hair falling over my face and exposed breasts.

“Mi amiga, you must be quiet,”
she said in a hushed anxious tone. Her accent was thick and it took me a moment to register what she was saying. I nodded slightly and in return felt her grip relax. “Please, do not draw unwanted attention to yourself.”

“Where am I?”
I croaked after she reluctantly removed her hand. For some reason I didn’t fear her; she didn’t look as though she wanted to hurt me.

“This is your new home
,” the woman said casually before walking toward the door.

“Wait! Please!”
I sat up cautiously this time knowing my head couldn’t cope much in the way of movement. The girl swiveled quickly on her heel, a warning flashing across her face. I hadn’t realized I had spoken so loudly, but judging by her reaction, I had.

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