Please Don't Leave Me {Carisi}

Prologue

"I find it pretty funny," An older man threw his head back laughing, "How 'bout you, girl?" He grunted like a brute, grabbing my butt. Butterflies still fluttered around in my stomach, no matter how many times it has happened.

"Yes," I quickly cleared my throat, forcing myself to make eye contact, "Yes, sir."

His grin had showed a large set of yellowed and damaged teeth -- probably from the smoking. His clothes and breath had reeked horrifically of smoke, yet I was assigned to please him by the Mistress.

"Good, now fetch me my drink." The rude, but typical, customer shoved me towards some other nearby working girls, a few who reached out and caught me with a hint of sympathy in their frightened expressions.

"S..So sorry..." I stuttered, dusting myself off and pulling down my mini skirt. It barely covered anything, and I could feel what seemed like millions of eyes on me, more specifically and intensely, the Mistress', as she sat in the corner, pretending to be joking with a few other customers.

I hustled away from the group of girls, shame and embarrassment flushing my cheeks, and looked anywhere for the drink server. The time away from the man, even if it was just a few seconds, had allowed me to calm the edge a little bit.

I drifted into the next room, frantically looking around, my eyes hopping from other girls getting groped to drunk and violent men slurring. This room was crowded, smoke accumulating at the ceiling, and the smell was mixed horridly between sweat and alcohol, as well as cigars and cigarettes. Only a few pairs of eyes watched me with a sense of hunger or fear, but only one seemed to stand out more than the rest of them.

My feet came to a halt as I found a man lounging on one of the red sofas, his eyes, which were hidden behind glasses, jumped between different ladies and customers. His eyes were a light blue, where a sense of comfort was tucked deep within. He wasn't like the others, I could tell that immediately, as a working lady had attempted to please him. He had kindly rejected, and his eyes began surveying the crowd again.

Watching him, who seemed so misplaced in a horrible place like this, made me relax, and though I would probably have another night of being touched inappropriately and forced to love a man so cold...

I trained my eyes on the other side of the room, immediately spotting the drink server passing out glasses of whiskey to the customers' ladies. Here at the Mistress' House, we had to serve our men whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, with perfection. I was new to the bunch, only being in this trafficking ring for maybe a month or two... you lose track of time here.

I am seventeen, on the brink of eighteen, since my birthday was sometime next month. I had a mixed up family, my mother who was a drug abuser, and my father who was a patrol cop. My father and I were the closest, but somedays it felt like I didn't even exist... it was like everyone was too high or too busy to even say hello.

But I was kidnapped directly from my minimum wage workplace, where I was blindfolded and beaten for a long time, or what felt like a long time, in an alley, then tossed in a car. I was drugged, and when I awoke, I had two men on top of me, a splitting headache, and no movement in my left arm. Of course I cried for help for hours, but after a while, you just sorta lose your fight, and begin to go through the motions. The sick, demented, twisted motions.

A hand firmly clenched onto my shoulder, making me silently jump from shock.

"Bree, your Mister is waiting."

The Mistress' domineering crystal blue eyes seemed to have dug into my soul, and as I attempted to catch my breath, she just grabbed my hair, yanking on it until I began to hesitantly, but obediently followed her. The scorching pain burned through my scalp as she pulled me through the swaying crowds. Fast-paced music was thumping all around, my fearful heart in cadence with it.

Just before I was pulled back into the room with the customer male who was probably awaiting to beat me, my eyes had met with the glasses man, and his muscles had tensed up immediately when our eyes did lock. It was only a split second of eye contact, but within that second, a tugging feeling in my brain and heart had lurched out of my chest. It was a strange, but familiar feeling... freedom.

I was tossed to the floor, the looming darkness of my life covering up the light at the end of the tunnel I had just witnessed. I stared at two rugged dress shoes that sat tapping against the dark oak floor. My eyes slowly traveled up to meet eye-to-eye with the man who had paid money for my company.

His brown eyes were darker than before, a glaze of anger within. There was a drunken stupor about him, and as his clenched fist pulled back to hit me, I braced for impact by squeezing my eyes tightly shut and wincing away from his dominant hand.

The blow came hard, and immediate. The pain had only taken a second to set into my flesh and bone, my nose cracking with the impact. Tears rose in my throat, but I held back the scream of pain. A stream of fresh blood rolled down over my lips and onto the wooden floor. Instinctively, I reached for my nose, but was only kicked down to the ground by the looming man.

"Stupid whore!" He shouted furiously, his hands bundled in fists again.

By now, the music had stopped, and there was a murmuring crowd standing around me and the man. The Mistress I could only see out of my only cracked open eye, a scorning look of disappointment settling onto me. A foot crushed my ribs once again, my vision blurring even more. I coughed up blood and clenched my side painstakingly. My insides were burning like a fire was scalding me from within  and my head was swimming like a frightened fish.

I could barely hear or see what was going on, but I saw someone push through the crowd, his hands extended, and his mouth moving with a stern face. For the most part, all I could hear was my heart thumping fast and loudly in my ears, and a high-pitched ringing in my head.

"Sir, you don't wanna do this." The blurry man shouted, preparing himself for a fight. I forced myself to watch, and to focus, only making out one feature of the mystery man; the blue eyes.

It was that guy with the glasses, his voice which was so smooth, so relaxing. I could feel myself drifting in a long, dark nap, which felt so comforting and nice....