Taken by E.M. Leya
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Trenton hated being cold and he'd been cold almost from the moment he'd been taken. The cement floors were like sleeping on ice, not that he could sleep much. The only time he gave in to sleep was when they forced the drugs on him. He'd float for a while in the high they gave him, then let the darkness consume him.
The only time he was warm was when they'd take him upstairs, but that warmth was from something he didn't want to think about. Yeah, the temperature was higher up there, but it was the pain, the sweat, the body contact that warmed him up there, and he'd rather freeze in the cage than experience that.
He'd been taken upstairs several times since he'd been brought here. The last time had been so he could service two women at the same time. The only reason he'd been able to do anything was because they'd forced him to swallow some pills that had caused his cock to go harder than it ever had been on its own. It was like Viagra on steroids.
Not being able to control your body was upsetting. He'd hated the way his body reacted to their touches, to the sex. He didn't want to come, didn't want to stay hard, but his body did its own thing. It disgusted him. He hated not being in control. It reminded him of his past. Of a time he wasn't allowed to have control. Something he was remembering way too much since being brought here. Focusing on the past only made things harder now. He was so angry he'd let himself be taken. Had been forced to give up control of his life, of his body again.
He found the women were rougher with him than the men, using electric shock, paddles, bindings, and other things to make him cry out. They liked the control. Men were mostly just looking to get off. They wanted a good blow job or to fuck some guy in the ass because they couldn't show that side of themselves outside the doors of this fucked up place. He'd only had one experience so far that had really fucked with his head. He'd been brought into a room with six other captives and forced to watch as each one was raped. He could have handled it had two of the victims not been children. Hearing their screams and not being able to do anything about it had nearly killed him. When he got free… If he got free, he would hunt that man down and kill him slowly.
There was no way of knowing what time it was. There was no outside light in the caged areas. The only way he knew morning had come was when Ben or the other day shift guards would show. He hadn't seen Ben since the day he'd given him Katie's name, and he wondered if he had followed through and contacted her. He hoped he had. It was his only chance at escape.
"I'm so hungry," Ian moaned softly beside him.
"Me too." The sandwiches they brought in once, sometimes twice a day, did very little to fend off the hunger. It was just enough to keep them alive. He'd lost so much weight since being taken that he was sure none of his old clothes would stay on his body.
"I can't do this anymore. I hurt so bad." Ian rolled to his side so he was facing Trenton. He had a black eye and cut lip.
"Are you fighting them?"
Ian gave a small shrug.
"Stop fighting. They're going to rape us no matter what. Let them do it and get it over with. It's not worth the fight because we can't win. They keep us weak for a reason." He sighed. "I know it hurts, and they're rough, but fighting only makes it worse. It gives them a reason to beat you."
"I'm not gay. Why do they think I'm gay?"
"They don't care if you are or not. For some reason, the gay men like you and pick you." He knew from an earlier conversation the three times Ian had been taken upstairs had been to be with men.
"I'm never having sex again when I get out of here." Ian sat up, showing more bruising along his rib cage.
"Yeah, I hear you. I feel the same way. But keep thinking that way because it shows you haven't given up yet. That you plan on a life after this. We're going to get out of here somehow."
"No, we're not. I overheard them talking upstairs about selling half of us to some rich guy from Spain. The guards were talking about having to bring new inventory in because of it. They made it sound like it was happening soon."
Trenton bit his lip. If they were sold before his team got here, they were as good as dead. As bad as this was, being taken out of the country would be even worse. They'd never be found. Children were rescued, but adults, not as often. The focus was almost always on the children when it came to foreign countries and trafficking takedowns.
He wouldn't tell Ian the facts. It would only make him panic more. Ian was slowly withdrawing into himself, fading farther away from reality. Most of the men in the cage had already done that. They were like robots, doing as told, no longer resisting. Trenton refused to let that happen to him. He would not forget who he was, that he had a life outside this. He would not let the drugs or the pain push his mind to a place where he retreated from what was real. He would hold on to hope.
"Do you think anyone is still searching for us?" Ian asked.
"Yes." Trenton knew that for a fact. His team wouldn't stop searching until they confirmed he was dead. "Our friends and families won't stop searching. They know we wouldn't just take off and disappear. Someone will find us eventually."
"I wonder who took my dog. Is that stupid to worry about? I mean, someone had to have taken him from my apartment, right?"
"Yeah, a friend, neighbor, or family member probably has him. Tell me about your dog." Trenton needed to give Ian something else to think about.
As he listened to Ian go into full detail about his pit bull and how he'd gotten her, he wondered if the team had contacted his brother. He hoped not, but knew the team well enough to know they probably had. His brother was probably already in town, worried. How long would he stay? How long would he wait before packing up Trenton's apartment and giving up? The team would wait longer than his brother would. His brother would focus on the negative stuff, assume the worst. It was just how his brother was.
The sound of voices had Trenton looking up, and his pulse sped as he saw Ben walking into the room. He had a cup of coffee and looked as if he'd had a sleepless night. Trenton could only hope that was because he was talking to his team. He wanted to call out, ask questions, demand information, but he couldn't.
Ben would let him know when he could.
Ben and Wade sat down at a table across the large room, both talking, but too low for Trenton to make out. Twice they glanced over at the cages as if talking about someone inside them, but neither moved nor gave any clue to what the conversation might be about.
He closed his eyes, thinking about each member of the team and all they'd been through together. There were some close calls, but they'd pulled through. They would do it again now, at least he hoped so. He knew they wouldn't give up on him, and if there was a way, they would save him, but this was a big operation and he wasn't sure even the team could take on the number of guards here. Usually, for such a big operation, the team would anonymously alert the police and let them handle it, but knowing the police chief was involved in the trafficking or at least using it for his pleasure, he wasn't sure the police would do anything.
His only hope sat across the room, sipping coffee, and acting like nothing was the matter. He didn't blame Ben for that. He was playing a role, but it was hard to watch. He wanted to see someone coming in with guns blazing.
"Do you have any pets?" Ian asked.
Refocusing on Ian, Trenton shook his head. "No, I worked long hours. It wouldn't be fair to a pet to be stuck at home all day. I love animals, but never had one of my own, even as a kid."
"Really? We had two dogs when I was little." Ian started talking about his pets again.
Trenton let him talk. It was good to have something to distract Ian. He needed to keep his mind off the rapes. If Ian was like him, they laid there all day, counting down the hours until night came again and they might be called upstairs. The waiting, the not knowing, the wondering was enough to drive someone insane. And it did. He was sure a number of the hostages had lapsed into one mental crisis or another. The more withdrawn you were, the easier you were to control. It was nothing more than a game to those who kept them.
As he waited to talk to Ben, he listened to Ian go on and on about his childhood. The memories were good, until you realized they might be the only memories you ever had if you didn't make it out of this alive.