“Screening? No one said we’d go through that,” the same guy boldly states, trying to get his friends to agree.
The speaker looks up and blinks once, controlled. “No one said you were going to.”
The guy seems confused. Then, out of nowhere, three other burly men appear and walk over to him, threatening him with their physical size as they force him toward the exit.
“Hey, I didn’t do shit. What do you want?”
“Out,” one of the burly men says, pointing at the open door.
“What the hell? You fuckers make no sense. Whatever,” the guy says, throwing up his hands before shrugging the burly men off and sauntering off toward the door I came through.
Everyone looks at him as though he’s a black sheep.
The unwanted one.
And more and more people start to flock toward the speaker.
“That is what happens when you don’t take God seriously. Only the devout are able to see the light.”
People hang on his every word, and I’m left questioning whose lead I should follow … the crowd or the man who just got kicked out. The smart thing to do would be to leave, but I can’t until I have what I came here for.
Taking a few steps closer, I watch the crowd disperse when a man on the side of the stage sets up a table and a seat down below, placing a few stacks of papers on top. I glance around the room as people peek over each other’s shoulders, trying to get a view of the documents. But all I see are the men on the stage and a few beside it, barely hiding behind a curtain as though they want to remain unseen. But I see them.
One in particular … with a tattoo on his hand.
It’s him.
My eyes home in on the man and his clean-shaven, handsome face, which isn’t at all a face I’d expect on a man who belongs to this group. With his hair casually thrown to one side and his strong jaw and prominent chin, he looks more like a sexy mobster than a Family man. Still, I can’t stop looking at him, at the way he moves his hand to his thin lips and chews on his nails, or how he scans the room as though he’s looking for something … like I did when I found him.
And now … he’s found me.
When our eyes connect, I freeze.
He captures my full attention away from the busy room and crowd of mumbling people. I am solely focused on him, even when I don’t want to be. I can’t pull my eyes away, and neither can he.
But in his eyes, I don’t see kindness or the gentleness of a Family man.
All I see is a bitter frenzy … directed straight at me.
Noah
There she is.
Right there in the crowd.
The moment our eyes connect, I know it’s her … the girl I’ve been looking for.
Her pretty red hair cascades down her shoulders and onto the scarf she wears around her neck, but those luscious locks don’t distract me. It’s her eyes … those hauntingly beautiful eyes. I don’t need anything other than her staring straight back at me to know that I’ve found the one I’m going to take. The one who’ll be mine.
With a flick of my fingers, one of our devoted elders for the day comes toward me. “Her.”
I narrow my eyes at the girl, and his follow suit.
“Now?”
“Now,” I reply.
He nods and walks off the stage, going straight toward her in the crowd. Dread fills her eyes the longer she looks at me. I can’t stop staring because I know, deep down, she can see straight through me … straight into my wicked, stained soul.
A wretched smile forms on my lips. I didn’t think it would be that easy, that simple, but it is.
By the time she noticed my man approaching her, it’s already too late to flee. He grabs her arm and talks to her, then pulls her away into a separate room.
He knows what he has to do.
Natalie
Within seconds of spotting the man with the tattoo, someone has his hands on me. I sputter some words but don’t know what to say as the unknown man drags me away to a room in the back. I don’t know what he wants or why his boss sent him to grab me.
“Stop, wait, I didn’t sign a form,” I manage to mutter. The people in the crowd were about to line up for a document, but I never got my eyes on a single piece of paper. And still, I’m pushed into a room and locked in against my will.
I bang on the doors, but no one answers.
“Let me out!” I scream.
Seconds later, it rattles, and I step back, hoping they’ll let me out and tell me it was all a mistake. I didn’t sign up to become one of them. They have no right to hold me.
But one look at his hands makes my eyes widen and my heart stop.
A bag.
And it’s pulled over my head and cinched tightly at the base.
I scream, but the bag muffles the sound. Someone snips holes in the bag where my nose is, but I still struggle for air. I squeal and try to shove them away, but I miss. Oh God, oh God, oh God, what did I do? What did I get myself into?
I have to get out. I have to escape.
In a panicked frenzy, I run toward anything and everything I can find, bumping into walls, tables, chairs, then falling to the floor only to get back up and try again.
Suddenly, two arms wrap around my waist. “Hold her, goddammit,” a voice growls.
A sharp object punctures my skin. I squeal, but my voice feels weak. Fainting. Just like me.
My whole body goes numb as my muscles refuse to listen to my commands, and I sink to the floor while my eyes slowly close.
I can’t let them do this … I can’t let these people take me … Can’t …
Too. Late.
Noah
On my lap lies an angel. A pretty girl with beautiful, long red-painted hair with streaks of auburn hidden underneath. A girl with the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen before she closed them tight. Right now, she’s blissfully unaware of what’s going on around her, of how I’ve taken her from that joint and put her in my car, and that she’s coming with me.
The drugs to subdue her were easy to administer, but it won’t be easy on either of us once they wear off.
My fingers caress her hair and cheeks softly, and I wish I could keep her right here with me. But I need to win her trust first, so this needs to be the final time I touch her … for now.
I murmur into her ear, “I can’t wait for you to become mine.”
She’s breathing so softly that it’s almost as if she’s sleeping. But we both know that isn’t true.
When she wakes up, she’ll learn exactly what it means to be owned.
Chapter 2
Noah
“What do you intend to do with her?” Patriarch Patrick asks me while we oversee the transport of her limp body to the community.
“Let her go through the initiation process,” I reply, watching from my window.
“What? Why?” he asks.
I turn to look at him. “She’s a captured, isn’t she? All captured go through this process.”
“Yes, but … this one was chosen by you. For a reason, right?” He narrows his eyes.
He’s prying for information, but I’m not willing to dish any.
“She’s just someone who caught my eye, that’s all,” I say, waving it away as though it’s no big deal.