FAMILY TREE
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT
Angel and Genevieve “Jay” Rodriguez
(Grit, King’s Harlots #1/Grim, King’s Harlots #3)
Angelica “Gigi”
Ryder
Meadow
Asher and Meeka Donovan
(Stain, King’s Harlots #2)
Aiden
Ashton
Coby and Brogan Porter
(Rude, King’s Harlots #4/For You, King’s Harlots #7)
Zachary “Zach”
Dale and Maxine “Max” Michaels
(Numb, King’s Harlots #5)
Piper
Vincent “Stone” and Creena Stone
(Rust, King’s Harlots #6)
Luna
Vincent Junior
Greyson and Eve Mercer
(Greyson, Hell’s Harlem #1)
Jaron
Tray and Zillah Lister
(Tray, Hell’s Harlem #2)
Beatrix “Bee”
John and Beatrix “Trixie” Butcher
(Hell’s Harlem Series)
Cyrus
Samson “Sammy”
For more information, visit
https://www.aboutjmwalker.com/books
WARNING: The heroine is a human trafficking survivor, so if you have triggers, please read with caution. Do NOT take this warning lightly.
Angie:
I told you I could make you love someone more than Garrith.
Ainsley
Eyes down.
Palms up.
Breathe.
Don’t make eye contact.
Don’t utter a single word.
Do as you’re told.
Breathe.
Don’t talk back.
Survive.
Repeat.
No matter how much time had passed, I played the rules over and over in my mind. They were engrained in me like scars on my soul. No one could see these scars of course, but I could sure as hell feel them. Every time I went to bed at night and closed my eyes, the rules were there.
The faces.
The cold, vacant eyes.
The men.
The other victims.
Before I fell asleep, I was always left with his eyes staring back at me. They were dark, cold, and soulless. I could never understand how someone could be as evil as him. I heard about monsters. In the news. In movies. From friends. Teachers. My parents. But I always brushed it off. It would never happen to me. There was no possible way that I could ever run across someone like these men who took girls and boys against their will, all to make a buck. I hung out with friends, had a buddy system whenever we went anywhere at night. But we should have had one during the day. No one would grab me if the sun was up, right?
I was wrong.
I tried to forget and move on, but I couldn’t.
I could still feel their hands, their bodies, parts of them I never wanted, but got just the same. They were forever etched on my very being, much like the scars on my skin.
Although they all terrified me, there was one man who stuck out the most amongst them all. I never knew his name; I never even saw his face. He always wore a mask that was made out of leather. But I remembered his eyes. I would recognize those eyes anywhere. They were soulless, black like most of the clothes I wore. I could still remember the smell as he breathed heavily against my ear. I could feel the smooth texture of the mask as he rubbed his cheek against mine. We may not have known his name, but he was there, constantly. He made us refer to him as Master. That was only when we were allowed to speak of course.
“How are you doing?” I was asked on multiple occasions ever since I escaped, but I never answered. How did they think I was doing? I didn’t speak. I no longer had a voice. I was a shell of the woman I used to be. She was still here. I knew she was. I could feel her. But she was cowering somewhere in the deepest parts of me. She had been broken, her will shattered. I missed her, the part of me that had once been fierce and strong-willed. Not knowing how to find her, I went through each day trying not to think about how much I had changed. How much they had changed me.
“Ainsley.”
I jumped, finding Jay Rodriguez staring back at me. She gave me a small smile, her voice gentle but firm. Lines sat at the corners of her eyes and mouth, like she had spent years laughing and smiling. I wished for that. No, I longed for it. The happiness I once had.
“You have nothing to fear here,” she told me. “Do you understand?”
Of course I understood but it didn’t mean I wasn’t scared nonetheless.
Her face softened. “You’re probably scared shitless right now.”
My eyes flicked to hers. I swallowed hard, nodding.
“I get it.” She crossed one knee over the other. “I won’t even begin to say that I know how you feel because I don’t. But just know that any of us here are always willing to listen or just sit with you, even if you don’t want to talk.”
Talk. I hadn’t talked in years because I had never been allowed to. He preferred it that way. Although he liked when we called him Master, he much preferred to hear our screams instead. It was one reason I stopped making a single sound. It almost cost me my life a few times, but I refused to give him that satisfaction. I needed some sort of control over my life, even if it was something small like the use of my voice.
“There’s a reason I called you here,” Jay said, flipping through my file.
I nodded again because I didn’t want to be rude. It wasn’t her fault I turned out this way. Silent. Mute. It was theirs. The men who had taken me and others captive. The monsters who would forever haunt my nightmares. The bastard who organized it all. If I could get my hands on him and knew I would survive, I would kill him.
“How about you just let me talk, explain myself, and we’ll go from there,” she added.
I nodded and looked down at my hands. American Sign Language was my way of communicating. The silent language had always fascinated me, so I learned it as a child and thankfully became fluent before I was taken. I never knew how much I needed this language until now.
I sighed, knowing that some of the fuckers who took us were able to get away. I gave the cops whatever information I had, but I didn’t let it occupy my thoughts all the time. I couldn’t dwell on it because I knew that no matter what, sex trafficking would never end.