Chapter 2: Highway to Hell

She took in the people who occupied the van, and her muscles locked one by one.

Both sides were occupied by guards in jump seats. They wore identical black uniforms, their faces entirely covered with black balaclavas and opaque sunglasses. Libby couldn’t make out any distinguishing features, not even their mouths, but it was obvious that every single one of them was a man.

The interior was large, almost the size of a small bus. Elaborate tech equipment lined the walls and ceiling, and several monitors displayed maps and video feeds that showed distinct images of every room in her house.

She could see her bedroom, the buttercream-yellow coverlet on top of her bed still unmade. Her small kitchen was next, the orange light of her crockpot a reminder of the chicken and rice soup she would never get to eat. A surge of bitter embarrassment made heat rise to her face when she saw that every angle of her bathroom was on display: her shower, the closet, the fruit-shaped rugs that littered the floor. Only the toilet, which had a privacy door, had been spared their vulgar voyeurism.

Several emotions ran through her all at once. Confusion, indignation, disgust. But the one that settled in the marrow of her bones and stayed there was an all-consuming, white-hot fear.

Fenrow didn’t speak as he settled them both on the foam-padded floor and tucked Libby between his long legs. A thickly veined hand slid up and gripped one of her exposed breasts, and more heat rose to her face. She forced herself to stare at the floor, refusing to acknowledge his touch, willing herself to let the presence of the other men fade into the background.

The realization that she had no plan and no hope of being found was finally starting to sink in.

Surviving.

That was her only option now.

The threats Galen and Fenrow had made while they’d taken her, the prospect of her unknown future, all of it swelled in all at once and threatened to overwhelm her.

No. She couldn’t think about that right now. Right now, she had to live in the present. They’d been cruel, but it didn’t sound like they wanted to kill her. As long as she was still alive, as long as she pretended to play their game, she still had a chance to escape. Eventually. She only hoped she could retain her sanity until then.

The van lurched forward and pulled away from the library. There were no windows back here, so there was no way to know which direction they were headed.

A hazy memory surfaced. Galen had mentioned something about a ‘portal’ across the border in Nova Scotia. Unless these people were rich occultists who thought they were going to find a tear in reality in the middle of fuck-all nowhere, then that had to be a euphemism for something else. A bunker? A facility? Some sort of blue-blooded hideout they’d had in their family for generations?

Even though she couldn’t see their faces, she could feel the eyes of each guard drinking in every square inch of her naked flesh. Erections strained against the inside of their black cargo pants, and a few of the men had already reached down to adjust themselves more than once. She tried to make herself as small as possible, hating that she had to tuck herself into Fenrow’s chest to cover herself.

“Nervous?” Fenrow’s hand came up to lightly stroke her knee, a fond smile curling the ends of his lips. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss at her temple, the contact like a searing brand. It took everything in her not to flinch away, though the zip ties across her ankles and wrists made actual movement impossible. “Don’t be. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, so you might as well get comfortable.”

He stroked her throat with featherlight touches before sliding his hand down to do the same along her arms. She let her eyes unfocus and put her efforts into regulating her breathing.

Libby hadn’t seen Galen since Fenrow had scooped her into his arms and carried her through the gloomy library. At first, she thought the dark-haired man had likely taken another vehicle, but as the partition slid open and Fenrow exchanged a few words with the driver, another disguised guard, she’d spotted him.

Galen was in the passenger seat, engrossed in whatever he was reading on his tablet. The only thing Libby could occasionally make out on the screen was a series of indistinguishable numbers and diagrams.

What must’ve been an hour passed in silence. Exhaustion was creeping in, and Libby kept finding herself on the verge of passing out. She had to strain to stay awake; the idea of falling asleep in front of these men made her ever-present fear lodge even deeper in her chest.

Libby had foolishly hoped the guards would eventually get used to her, maybe even become desensitized to her presence. It seemed Fenrow, however, had other plans. At some point he’d started playing with her nipples, alternating between agonizingly slow pulls and punishing pinches.

The more Fenrow played with her breasts, the more Libby became aware of the rippling waves rising from the body of each guard. The air around them seemed to pulse and distort, wavering like steam rising from hot pavement.

Stress. This had to be a byproduct of her stress. That was the only explanation for what she was seeing. God knew she’d been under more than she’d ever been in her entire life.

It was then that Fenrow finally spoke.

“As of this evening, Galen and I have officially claimed Libby as our concubine. My brother and I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your efforts over the past few months.”

Their concubine. Brothers. They were siblings, which raised as many questions as it answered. Their faces certainly bore some resemblance, though Galen’s dark hair and olive tone made Fenrow’s appearance seem all the more stark, as if the color had been leeched out of his hair and his fair skin.

“Libby’s virginity was promised to us, yet she defiled herself before we could claim it.” He sighed, as if this were all very exasperating and inconvenient. “If you can imagine, my brother and I are heartbroken. As much as it pains us to do this, we must take extreme measures. It falls to us to correct Libby for her crude behavior and to ensure she understands her new status.”

A bad feeling, separate from the others already churning in her veins, was beginning to unfurl in the pit of her stomach.

“We want you to know that neither my brother or I blame you for her actions. She made a choice, and none of that has any bearing on your performance.” She distantly recognized that Fenrow was petting her head, which only built her sense of unease.

“Now, since you were the ones primarily responsible for her safety, we think it’s only fair that you are rewarded for your exceptional service. I’m sure it’s been a temptation to watch her day in and day out without getting to sample her for yourselves. So, in recognition of your efforts—and until we reach Nova Scotia—all of you are free to use her cunt as you please. It’s not like Galen or I have a use for it anymore.”