Claimed by the alpha

I can't breathe. The bag tied over my head blocks out the world around me. Voices hum in my ear, mostly crying and praying. I don’t know how long we’ve been bound in this place, but I think we’re moving. My stomach flips and flops, reminding me of the time I went on a day cruise just off the coast of California. The water was rough then, and it feels like we rise and drop in the same way.

Fuck. I hope I don’t get sick. If I get sick, I’ll probably die. Drowned in my own disgusting body fluids.

“Shut the hell up. Screaming isn’t going to do anything. We need to think. These fuckers haven’t been here in at least an hour, according to my watch chime. If one of us can manage to get untied, we can free the rest. There’s enough of us to fight back,” the feminine voice whispers lowly, dragging my attention away from my rolling stomach.

“You don’t think I’ve been trying? These chains can’t be broken.” The man beside me groans under his breath. His movements, bumping into me every couple of minutes, haven’t helped my motion sickness. “I’ve been working on trying to loosen the screw of the anchor ring, but it’s tight.”

“Chains? I don’t have chains. Who else doesn’t have chains?” the woman asks, her voice sounding over the sudden silence falling through the air. “I swear if it’s all of us wome—”

“Seriously? You’re about to get up in arms about not having chains?” someone snaps.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so pissed. I shouldn’t be here. They caught me off guard all because of a damn piece of gum stuck to my shoe.” The woman stops talking, though I wish she didn’t. She was surprised like me and attacked too. No one responds to her, letting her wallow in her thoughts.

That’s when I hear it. The roar of the ocean. I was right. We’re being relocated by water. But where to? Why? Shit. This can’t be happening. I’ve heard of the stories of women getting kidnapped and trafficked. I always thought I was careful and aware. I’ve always had to be, but especially lately with my crappy luck.

It takes everything in me to keep my shit together.

The last thing I expected tonight was to have been attacked and kidnapped. And obviously, the same goes for everybody else here. I don’t know how the bastards managed to snatch so many of us, but I hear at least ten different voices.

“Don’t feel bad,” a different man says, speaking up. “They caught me with a damn paper on my windshield. Like what the fuck?”

If only I had a chance to think about a paper on a windshield or gum on my shoe. I had a date with a new client who was supposed to help me get back on my feet. But I think I was set up. My captors jumped from a utility van so quickly and grabbed me from right outside the hotel I was meeting Ryan at. I thought it was finally my luck changing since he insisted that I call him by his first name on the phone instead of something else like the other potential clients I had spoken with.

I had no time to prepare or scream. My pepper spray was useless. So were all the self-defense moves I’ve been practicing since shit went bad with Mr. Beck last summer, and he... I can’t think about it. I’ve never been so thankful to have a man underestimate how much fight I have in me. Not like it helped now. I guess I got too comfortable being alone. It’s when I’m not that I’ve always worried.

“And to answer your question, I don’t have chains either,” the man murmurs, sounding like he comes from my right now that I focus.

“I do. Looks like you were wrong,” another woman’s voice says. “Maybe they gave us fighters something harder. They probably thought it was unnecessary if they managed to get you for gum and him for a damn paper on the windshield. I left that shit in place. They dragged me from my car at a light.”

The first woman huffs. “Whatever. Normal people—”

“Shhh! They’ll hear you. Now is not the fucking time to get angry that you don’t have fucking chains. Be grateful.” Metal clinks metal as the man to my left shakes his restraints.

I wish I didn’t have this bag on my head. I desperately want to see what’s going on and who these voices belong to.

“Don’t—”

“I have chains and wasn’t fighting,” I say, cutting the woman off. I force my mouth to work, despite the roiling pain in my stomach. “I’m also restrained to the wall. I think they just used rope when they ran out of chains. What about everyone else? Are you guys in chains?” I don’t know why I ask and interrupt, but it helps with my panic and anxiety arising from the others arguing.

A couple of yeses and two no’s sound through the air, confirming my speculation. There’s no strategy set in place to how we’ve been bound.

A deep groan hums close by. “This is pointless. We need to think about what we’re going to do and how we are going to get the fuck out of this. It doesn’t matter who was bound by what. We all need to stick together. They can’t take on all of us.”

“Stick together? Fuck that. I’m not sacrificing my damn self for you assholes,” another man says. “You’re a bunch of damn crybabies.”

The world suddenly rises and falls again, and I screech at the sensation of my heart flying into my throat. I’m certain we’re on a boat now. The motion and the sound of the waves coming through the air clue me into as much.

And I’m terrified. I knew I was being trafficked, but I still had hope until now. Why else would our captors bind us and relocate us somewhere like this? They’re taking us to sell or something. I might’ve had a shitty life and made my living in unconventional ways, but at least I was in control. I had a say. I was in charge. But this?

Fuck my life.

No one will even miss me being gone. I haven’t talked to my dad’s sister since...I can’t remember. I haven’t managed to keep any sort of nine-to-five job at all in the last two years. And if my new client even thinks twice about me before moving on to someone else...it won’t matter. I’ll be dead by then.