4
Rue
“I think it’s okay that your man bruised you up. You’ll probably sell just as well or even better.” The man, who has since identified himself to me as Beck, pinches my jaw with his fingers. He turns my face to and fro, admiring Father Derrik’s handiwork. “We won’t tell him that though.”
We are standing in a dank room, almost eye level with one another. I’ve been with this man for almost a whole twenty-four hours now, and I have determined a few things.
One, we’re somewhere that men bid on girls like me. Where that may be, I don’t know exactly, but a brothel or an auction house.
Two, escape is basically impossible for me. Every time the door to the room I’ve been trapped in for a whole day opens, there is a guard walking by, patrolling the hallway.
And third, I am only one in a
