Sang's Freedom (Original And Rewritten)

Chapter 44: Jail Bird

-Chapter 44-

Sang Sorenson's POV:

I woke up freaking naked.

As if it wasn't bad enough waking up in total fucking darkness handcuffed to the wall.

I was freezing and was torn between trying to cover myself (which could only be done while standing), and sitting down (the position in which my hands were brought up over my head exposing my breasts all the more because the stupid, fucking chain was too short).

I huffed, choosing anger over fear.

Surely someone would notice I was missing. I had nine new men in my life who expected to see me at school on Monday. So all I had to do here was survive until Monday.

I could do that.

I took a deep breath.

I had been surviving weekends all my life with Mother. This weekend would be no different.

I tried to gage how long I was unconscious. With any luck, it was already Saturday, maybe Sunday. The boys thought I had my cellphone and if Luke tried to reach me for our date and I don't answer, maybe he would come find me sooner...

They had to find me.

I jerked to my feet as I heard movement on the other side of the room. A sliver of light cut across the empty room, piercing the darkness as a door was pushed open.

I squinted to see, trying to shield my body from the tall man standing in the doorway.

With the light pooling behind him, I could see nothing more than a silhouette until he stepped forward.

He took another step and I dropped my face. I couldn't look at him; my cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame.

"Look at me," he ordered.

I didn't and felt rough fingers touch my cheek gently before tilting my chin up.

The man was young, no older than Mr. Blackbourne or Dr. Green.

His hair was a deep red, nearly black with serious eyes to match. Stubble ran across his jaw and I detected the faintest scent of gasoline and sawdust coming off his leather jacket. A small 'A' was stitched onto the corner pocket.

His smile was slight, not cruel, but not kind either. "There you are, beautiful. Keep those green eyes open."

I said nothing as my bottom lip started to tremble. Who was he? Where was I? The panic was starting to settle in. Why was he acting like this was normal? I'm naked, chained to a freaking wall!

The young man tilted his head slightly at the same moment I heard footsteps start down the hall.

"Someone's coming," he said, rising. "I promise I'll come back for you. Don't fight them, girl. Do you understand?"

My eyes were wide, and I know he saw the confusion there as he hesitated at the door.

"I promise I'll come back for you," he said again, and then the man closed the door, shutting me back into darkness.

I cringed.

I wanted the weird guy to come back because I was fairly certain he intended to rescue me, but when the door to my cell opened again, it wasn't the weird guy.

It was a thin man with light hair and a crooked smile. He carried a pail of water in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

I was stunned silent as he sank to his knees in front of me. Slowly he wet the cloth, using his other hand to pull me into a sitting position. I tried to cringe away, but couldn't.

My hands were trapped over my head. My breasts were exposed to his gaze...and his hands.

He cupped one, squeezing harder and harder until I cried out in pain. He seemed satisfied with the sound and began to tend to my chest with the washcloth.

I felt myself crying, the sobs increasing as I found the man moving the cloth across my skin, lower and lower still.

My breath caught as his hand dipped past my hips. I tore at my chains trying to free myself, bloodying my wrists. "No!" I cried.

The man moved the cloth up, back to my breasts squeezing each of them until the nipples peaked and my skin was bruised there. Why was he doing this? I couldn't fight back my broken sob.

He threw his washcloth in the bucket then, before pushing himself to his feet. "You were good, whore. Excellent tits. You don't hardly cry, and now that you're all cleaned up, I'll send someone to move you into a bedroom for tonight."

The man left me in the darkness of my cell, and I wished I could curl into a ball. Some fucking stranger had touched me.

My skin burned, yet my insides felt empty and cold.

I should have screamed. The man said I did good because I didn't cry. Next time...next time I'll be ready.

Numbness ate away at me as I leaned back against the cold stones, my arms pulling up at an awkward angle, as I waited for the metal door to open again.

***

Victor Morgan's POV:

My laptop was open on my lap as I tracked the path of Sang's cellphone. Thank god, Luke had given her the device before she was taken.

Without that phone, Sang would have been lost to us forever. Now, we had a good lead. Her phone had traveled 148 miles west, across state boarders; a very clever move for kidnappers.

Police jurisdiction ended at county lines, and State Troopers' jurisdiction ended at state boarders, so unless the CIA or FBI were involved, many missing persons remained as such once they had crossed into another state.

But Sang had her phone, and I had my computer and we had tracked her to an abandoned building out past Savanah, Georgia.

All nine of us were packed into a black 2016 NV Passenger, hurtling down the highway, and we would not stop until Sang was safe.

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Dear Readers:

I LOVE YOU GUYS, and I am so happy that you are enjoying the story. Your questions and comments really contribute to making this story great! You inspire ideas and I promise you, this Ghost Bird adventure is going to be one hell of a ride.

-Arkie1212
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