She looks me straight in the eye and says, “Fuck you.”

JD collapses back onto the pillow he’s sharing with her. “Why don’t we just pick it back up in the morning?”

“No,” I say quickly. “Fuck that.” I look straight at her. “You’re not the only one caught in their web, you know.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You know that’s true. You know there were other girls involved with you. And I’m pretty sure the reason we found you this morning was because you escaped.” Her eyes dart back and forth, like she’s trying to decide to trust me. “We knew a girl who had that same mark, Blue.”

“Another one of your whores?” she asks. But it comes out scared instead of defiant. I think the level of vulnerability in her voice surprises her, because she hiccups back a sob.

I shake my head. “A friend. She was a good friend.”

JD gets up out of the bed and walks into his closet.

Blue and I just wait it out. After a minute of JD rummaging around in there, he emerges fully dressed and walks out the door, slamming it closed behind him. The noise makes the girl jump and this time she can’t hold the sob in. It’s too much. She starts to cry.

I reach over and place my hand on her arm. I’d take her hand and give it a squeeze, but she’s got it tucked underneath her cheek. “The friend was JD’s girlfriend. And she got mixed up in something bad and then she disappeared. She had a mark like that, Blue. They had a fight the night she disappeared, and ever since he’s been beating himself up over losing track of her, and imagining all kinds of terrible things that might’ve happened to her. So if you can help—”

“I can’t,” she says, cutting me off. “I don’t know any girls. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything.” And then she gets up out of the bed and walks into the bathroom. There’s the distinct sound of the door being locked and then the shower comes on.

A moment later the front door slams and I know JD is gone.

I look at the girl in the mirror. She’s naked. I tilt my head a little to see the scars on her back. Not the long stripes from the cane, but the little tick marks from the knife.

Stars, they called them. That’s how I got that name, I guess. Or maybe it was something else. I can barely remember now.

I stare at the girl until the steam from the running shower fogs her over and makes her fade away.

The shower is calling me even though this is the cleanest I’ve been all month. Hot water with no time limit is a luxury I will never get enough of. So I step in and let it pour down my body. I open my mouth and let the water run in, swallow some, spit some out, and then close my mouth so I can inhale deeply.

It’s not enough.

I cover my face to hide my tears even though there’s no one here to punish me. I want to feel relief. I want to thank someone. I want to call my parents and listen to them tell me they love me and everything will be OK.

But I can’t do any of those things.

I’m not safe, so there’s no time for relief. And no one saved me. These guys are bottom-of-the-barrel scum, just like the ones I ran from.

I can’t even think about my family yet. No. I push them away immediately.

My hands come down from my face and when I look up, there’s another mirror where JD must do his shaving. I push the little button on the side and it lights up and the fog begins to recede from the edges until I have a clear view of my face.

Which actually looks better in here. Maybe it’s the dim light, or the hot water has decreased the puffiness that was so apparent in the vanity mirror.

It doesn’t matter.

I look… better.

Blue, they call me.

Blue. My new name. I stare at my eyes and wonder what they say to these strangers. Do they see the pain? Or the fear? Or the longing? Or all of it mixed up like some poisonous cocktail?

Can they see through me?

I grab the shampoo bottle and squirt some into my palm and start massaging it into my long hair. My fingertips go to the branding scar that the guys were asking about. I trace the circle all the way around. I know every imperfection. Every spot where it scabbed over or got infected and needed to be scrubbed to create a new scar.

It sends a shiver down my spine.

The brand was the first thing they did and they did it the very first night. Before I was knocked out. Before I was tied up. Before any of that happened, I was claimed.

And if it’s true what Ark said—that JD had a girlfriend with a brand like mine—then what are the chances that these guys are safe?

It can’t be a coincidence.

As much as it scares me to go outside and face the world again—face reality—I have to. I need to leave and I need to leave tonight.

The hot water runs down my head when I step back under the stream, and I quickly finish up with the conditioner and then shut the water off.

I have no clothes, but I can find some sweats of JD’s to wear. And a t-shirt. And I’m sure he has some old hoodie I can take.

Shoes are the major problem. I can’t wear his shoes. My feet are small and his are not. But I’m sure I can make them work until I find a store and buy my own. I still have the money they gave me. JD stuck it in the drawer in the bedside table and the last time I looked, it was still there.

But… if he’s a bad guy, why pay me?

I don’t know. I really don’t. So I just wrap a towel around myself and walk to the door. My hand rests on the handle, but I don’t turn it. I lean my ear against the door instead. Listening. Is Ark still out there? He scares me a lot more than JD. JD is nice. He’s charming. Ark is intimidating and demanding.