Vile Boys: Chapter 51

My whole body shakes as the van veers from left to right to whatever destination these guys are taking us. We’re chained to the van like cattle, and I’m deathly terrified.

But when Lana squeezes my hand, I break under the weight of what I’ve done.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“Yes, it is,” I say, my voice cracking. “I took you to the park for some ice cream.”

“Oh, girl …” Lana leans into me. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Yes, I do.” My whole body erupts into goose bumps from knowing the truth she’s about to learn. “When I heard about the fight from Brooke, I got too scared to tell you the truth. I was afraid you never wanted to talk to me again.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat. “That picture that got shared around … it’s my fault.”

She looks startled.

“Nathan gave me his passcode once, so when I saw he left his laptop at the library, I figured he wouldn’t mind if I used it to look something up for my course. But then I saw that picture of you and them. I thought he’d taken that picture without your permission and wanted to send it to you so you’d know about it. But I didn’t understand how his email worked and accidentally sent it to the entire school.” Tears roll down my cheeks. “It was too late to un-send it. The damage was already done.”

When she doesn’t respond at all, I continue. “I’m sorry, Lana. I’m so sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

“Shut it!” the driver growls at us.

Lana looks at me like she doesn’t even know who I am, and I don’t blame her for it.

When the van finally comes to a stop, my whole body feels like it’s about to get crushed. The van doors open, and some guy steps inside to unlock the chains around our wrists.

Lana immediately throws a punch at a guy’s face, teeth flying left and right before she punches him in the abdomen. He nearly vomits while she kicks him to the side, fighting her way through the men while they try to hold her back.

But all I can do is shiver in the dark.

Lana turns to me, compassion riddling her eyes.

“Jump! Now!” she yells at me.

My eyes widen in shock.

She actually wants me to be safe?

I jump out of the van and run off as fast as I can, but one of the men swiftly grasps my arms and flings me to the ground, pinning me down.

“No! Let her go!” Lana screams.

And it hurts my fucking soul.

“Give it to her,” one of the guys holding her down says.

Another one brings out a needle and shoves it into her neck, making her go limp.

“Bring them inside,” he growls.

I try to shriek, but the man holding me stuffs a dirty rag into my mouth, and then the needle hits my skin.

The pain and subsequent energy loss are almost instant, as though something drains me of my life until I can no longer keep my eyes open, and everything goes dark.

When I come to again, I don’t know how much time has passed. Or where I am.

And I can’t feel my legs.

Everything is fuzzy—not just my head but my sight too.

“What … what’s happening?” I mutter, but my speech slurs.

A man laughs. “Enjoying the little trip, princess?”

Who is that?

And what does he mean by trip?

Memories of a gun flash through my mind, followed by hands shoving me into a van, the darkness surrounding me, the images all blurring into one jumbled mess. But the one thing I remember is the sharp object piercing my skin near my neck.

“What did you do to me?” I ask with a raspy voice.

“Gave you a li’l something so you’d stop fighting,” he replies. “Don’t worry, it’ll wear off soon enough.” He grips my cheeks and smushes them together. “And then you’ll be able to fully enjoy all your fucking cell has to offer.”

My … cell?

I can hear footsteps along with a door squeaking before being shuttered, metal against metal, and my eyes open wide.

The room I’m in is large enough to fit maybe one or two people, the walls and ceiling encased with tiles that look bloated. Soundproofing.

Oh God.

I jerk my hands, but they’re tied to the wall with a chain, just like my ankles.

Oh no, no, no!

“Let me out!” I shriek. “Please, let me out!”

Panic bubbles to the surface as I fight the chains, to no avail.

Every sound I make falls on deaf ears.

Every inch I try to move, I’m blocked.

Nothing works.

Nothing at all.

And slowly but surely, I’m starting to lose my mind.

Like a prisoner inside my own body, I cease to exist.

I don’t know how much time has passed since the door last opened.

I barely hear anything beyond these walls.

My mind spins in circles, drifting in and out of consciousness as time slips away.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

It’s all blending into one giant scream.

But no matter how much I exert my voice, no one comes to save me.

My cell is not just a prison of the body but also a prison of the mind.

There is nothing except my own thoughts to keep me company, and I am lost within them.

When the doors finally open again, I scream for help.

“Please, let me out. I didn’t do anything,” I say.

“Unlock her,” someone beyond the doors says.

A woman?

I hold my breath and wait until the man steps forward and shoves a key into the locks. My ankles are released, and the weight of the metal around them lifts, but I can barely stand.

He unhooks the metal around my wrists, and I nearly fall, but he grabs my waist and chucks me over his shoulder.

“Take her to the main hall. I’m not going to give this one to the Bones Brotherhood. This one could fetch a far bigger prize.”

Prize?

“Wait!” I shriek. “Where are we going?”

There are no answers to my questions.

Nothing but laughter and smug smiles as men force me through a bunch of grimy-looking hallways. But each door we pass strikes fear into my heart.

There are cells just like mine, all lined up, one after the other. Fifty, maybe a hundred.

And the more shrieks I hear, the less I feel like I can breathe.

“Put her with the others,” the woman says.

“Who?” I ask. “Please, just let me go. I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Shut your damn mouth,” the man carrying me barks.

He throws me down in a bigger room with five other people, girls, boys, most my age. But I don’t recognize any of them.

“Don’t make a sound,” the guard warns before closing the door.

Behind it, gunfire erupts.

I immediately crawl to the door to listen while the others huddle in the back of the room.

What is going on?

What’s going to happen to me?

Panic fills my veins as I slam my fists onto the door, desperate to get out. “Let us go!”

“It won’t work,” a girl in the back says.

I turn my head to look at her, her face hiding behind a curtain of messy hair.

“Neither of us is getting out. Once you’re in here, you’re in here until you’re sold to the highest bidder.”

My skin begins to crawl.

This place … it’s a human auction.

And I’m going to be sold.