“Maya, about that loan shark…” Jason began, his voice laced with a dark sort of humor. “I can’t make the payment. But I remember you have that pretty little insurance policy. Disability pays out, right?” I stared at him, a chill crawling up my spine. He took a drag from his cigarette, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “Just kidding. Don’t take it so seriously.” But I knew. He wasn’t kidding at all. Jason was a scout for a human trafficking ring that operated out of a lawless border territory known as Blackwater. And for a long time now, his sights had been set on me. 1. “Be careful of your boyfriend. He’s dangerous.” When the anonymous call came, I brushed it off as a prank. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got spam protection,” I said, and hung up. The phone rang again immediately. I was about to let loose a string of curses, but I realized it wasn’t my phone. “Jason, your phone’s ringing!” I shouted toward the bathroom. The sound of the shower must have drowned me out. It rang again, persistent. Worried it might be an emergency, I answered it. A gruff voice on the other end didn't even wait for a hello. "J, you got the girl locked down? Blackwater's getting impatient. They need a heart and a set of corneas, like, yesterday." A roar filled my ears, like a lightning strike inside my skull. Before I could even process the words, the phone was snatched from my hand. Jason stood there, a towel around his waist, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “What the hell kind of joke is that?” he snapped into the phone. “You’ll scare Maya.” The voice on the other end immediately shifted, turning jovial. “Sorry, boss’s lady! Just messing around. For real though, I booked a table at The Viper’s Nest tonight. Figured you two might wanna come hang.” “We’re in,” Jason said and hung up. He turned to me, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You didn’t actually believe that crap, did you?” I felt a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. I’d met Jason at a gallery opening, and after a whirlwind, intense courtship, we’d started dating. This side of him, this world, was completely new to me. 2. Later that night, we were at The Viper’s Nest, their usual spot. Jason led me by the hand up the sticky stairs to the private lounge. “Hey, Maya’s here!” a big guy—everyone called him Gus—greeted us, his arm draped around a new girl. He seemed to have a different one every week. I never understood how Jason, who was so polished and smooth, ended up with a crew of thugs like this. They oozed bad news. Jason lit a cigarette, the smoke coiling upwards, blurring the sharp lines of his profile. He never smoked in front of me, but with his "brothers," he was a different person. A prickle of unease ran down my spine. I was missing something important. “I need some air,” I said. “Want me to come with you?” Jason asked. “No, I’m fine.” 3. Leaning against the railing of the rooftop terrace, I replayed the phone call in my mind. It churned in my stomach, a cold knot of dread. Why would Gus’s friend assume I’d be the one to answer the phone? What if Jason had picked up? “Hey… hey, miss.” A small voice pulled me from my thoughts. It was Gus’s new girlfriend. She glanced nervously over her shoulder before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into an empty VIP room. “What’s going on?” I asked, unnerved by her cloak-and-dagger act. Her eyes instantly welled with tears. “Listen to me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “These guys… they’re traffickers. They ship girls to Blackwater. We have to run. Now.” “How do you know that?” I asked, my own voice shaking. Before she could answer, a shadow fell across the frosted glass of the door. It was Jason. He stood there, his face a cold, emotionless mask. He crushed his cigarette under his shoe, opened the door, and pulled me out of the room without a word. A moment later, Gus lumbered into the room she was in. The club's bass was a physical force, thumping through the walls. I couldn't hear clearly, but through the chaos, I thought I heard the sickening thud of a fist, followed by a muffled cry. 4. Jason dragged me back to their booth. All eyes were on me. My hand closed around an empty beer bottle. With a surge of adrenaline, I smashed it against the edge of the table. The crash of shattering glass silenced the music for a beat. A jagged shard in my hand, I pointed it at Jason. “Who the hell are you?!” I demanded. For a second, he looked genuinely stunned. “Maya, what are you doing?” “I got a call from the police,” I bluffed, my voice ringing with more confidence than I felt. “And Gus’s girlfriend, she told me everything.” At my words, Jason’s expression relaxed. He actually chuckled, then gestured toward the lounge entrance. There was Gus, whispering and cooing with his girlfriend, Lily. She was clinging to his arm, looking up at him with adoring eyes, all traces of her earlier terror completely gone. Gus had the decency to look sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry about that, Maya. That anonymous call? That was Lily. We were playing Truth or Dare and the guys dared her to prank call you. We took it too far. Our bad.” The rest of Jason’s crew chimed in with their own half-assed apologies. I didn't buy it for a second. I locked eyes with Lily. “Is that true?” She nodded, a faint blush on her cheeks as if she were embarrassed by the childish prank. “It is. I’m so sorry.” Slowly, I lowered the broken bottle. Something felt deeply wrong, a knot of ice in my stomach, but the pieces weren't fitting together. Jason wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side. “You were scared, weren’t you?” I forced a brittle smile. “No more games like that. Promise me.” He immediately swore up and down that it would never happen again. As the party wound down, Jason drove me home. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft. “My mom wants to meet you. I booked us flights for tomorrow.” “Tomorrow? But I haven’t prepared anything.” He stopped at a red light and gently flicked my forehead. “Leave it to me.” “Okay,” I said, pulling out my phone. “I should at least tell my dad.” 5. I dialed my dad’s number. “Hey, honey, miss me already?” he answered, the clatter of poker chips loud in the background. “Dad, you’re gambling again? It’s late, you should be home.” “Alright, alright, you got me. Winding it down now,” he said. I heard him tell his buddies he was cashing out. “So, what’s up, kiddo? You don’t usually call this late.” “I’m going to Crestview tomorrow to meet Jason’s parents. Just wanted to let you know so you don’t worry.” “Crestview, huh?” my dad said cheerfully. “Where in Crestview do they live?” I leaned my head against the seat and turned to Jason. “Where do your parents live in Crestview?” He kept one hand on the wheel. “Havenwood County.” I froze. Havenwood County? That was where my mother had been kidnapped by traffickers years ago. Jason’s family was from there? My dad went silent on the other end of the line. I knew he was thinking about Mom. “Dad, I’m not going. I…” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he cut me off, his voice firm. “What happened back then was a tragic accident. You can’t avoid meeting his parents forever because of it.” He told me to be safe and hung up before I could argue. Jason glanced over, sensing the shift in my mood. “What’s wrong?” I just shook my head, unwilling to dredge up the past. 6. The next day, we were up early, arriving in Havenwood County by ten. “Mr. and Mrs. Adler, it’s so nice to meet you. These are for you,” I said, handing them a gift bag. “Thank you, dear,” his mother said with a tight smile. “Come in, come in,” his father added. Their politeness was a thin veneer, stretched tight over something cold and hollow. It didn’t feel like a family home. While they were in the kitchen, Jason wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “I was mostly raised by my grandmother,” he murmured into my ear. “We’re not that close.” Oh. That explains it. I placed my hand over his. “You have me now.” Dinner was an unnervingly silent affair. After a few minutes of just the clinking of silverware, they seemed to realize how awkward it was. “So, Maya,” Mrs. Adler started. “What did you study in school?” “I majored in Chemistry, with a minor in Psychology,” I replied. “I’m a therapist now.” His parents exchanged a quick, unreadable glance. “Well, eat up,” his father said. “Okay.” Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. I slipped out of bed, planning to take a walk, but froze when I heard voices from the hallway. It was Jason and his “parents.” “What were you thinking, bringing her here?” the woman’s voice hissed. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually caught feelings for her.” I heard the flick of a lighter, then Jason’s voice, colder than I’d ever heard it. “That’s none of your business. Your job is to play the part. If you blow your cover and she finds out who you really are, I’ll put you in the ground myself.” CRACK. My hand brushed against a small potted plant on a stand, knocking it over. The hallway light snapped on, flooding the space with blinding white. Jason stood there, his brow furrowed. “Maya. You shouldn’t have come out.” The woman’s eyes widened in panic. “Jason, she knows! We should just…” He cut her off with a look, then let out a chilling, humorless laugh. “You really think you have what it takes to replace her?” He took my hand, his grip like steel, and led me back to the room. He threw open the window, and a gust of icy night air swept in, making me shiver. I found my voice first. “Jason. Your entire relationship with me… it was all a setup, wasn't it?” The charming mask was gone. His face was a landscape of pure, cold calculation. He sneered. “You’re not as dumb as you look, Maya. You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” He gestured to the bed. “Get some rest.” Rest? In this house of lies, with this monster? It was impossible. And yet, a strange drowsiness began to wash over me, my limbs growing heavy. My last conscious thought, before the world went dark, was of the sweet, cloying scent of incense burning on the nightstand. 7. The road to Blackwater was a brutal, jarring ride. I woke to the sound of weeping in the suffocating darkness of a shipping container. “You’re awake.” It was Lily, Gus’s girlfriend. “Where are we?” I asked, though a sick certainty had already settled in my stomach. She gave a bitter, broken laugh. “On our way to Blackwater. I’m sorry, Maya. I lied to you. I couldn’t take Gus’s beatings anymore, so I helped them. I wasn't the one who made that call.” Tears streamed down her face as she spoke, but I felt nothing for her. No sympathy. I peered through a crack in the container wall. After what felt like an eternity, the truck finally lurched to a halt. The doors were thrown open, blinding us with harsh sunlight. Two hulking men stood guard. “Get a move on! Out, now!” one of them barked. A few girls were too terrified to move. They were dragged out by their hair and thrown onto the dusty ground. “Get up!” The commotion drew Jason’s attention. He strolled over, exhaling a plume of smoke. “What’s the problem?” One of the guards grunted, gesturing at the sobbing girl on the ground. “She’s dragging her feet.” 8. Jason’s eyes found mine. He walked over, his expression unreadable. “Maya, if you cooperate, I won’t let anything happen to you.” I laughed, the sound sharp and ugly. “Cooperate how? By letting you cut out my heart? Or should I just sign the organ donor card now?” His face hardened. “The boss, Mr. Blackwood, is coming tonight. If you can catch his eye, you might just get to live.” I wanted to kill him. I always knew he was a scumbag, but this was a level of evil I couldn’t have imagined. “Oh, thank you so much for the opportunity,” I spat. “The first thing I’ll do when I’m his new favorite is have you killed.” “Maya!” he snarled, his eyes flashing with fury. “This isn’t the city. You want to die? Just say the word. I’ll be happy to arrange it.” SLAP. The force of my blow sent his head snapping to the side. My palm smarted, a dull throb that echoed the rage burning in my chest. “You lied to me, Jason. You used me, and you sold me. Mark my words. One of us is going to die here, and it won’t be me.” Gus wandered over, a smirk on his face. “Damn, J. Can’t even handle one little woman? That’s embarrassing.” “Get lost!” Jason roared. 9. We were all herded into a damp, dark basement. From the nervous whispers of our guards, I gathered that the arrival of this “Mr. Blackwood” was a very big deal. As a therapist, I’m trained to read people. The way they spoke of him wasn’t just respect; it was pure, undiluted fear. To survive, I knew I had to play the part. I made myself stand out, not through defiance, but through a chilling, calculated composure. It worked. I was the one chosen to “entertain” Mr. Blackwood. That night, lying in a luxurious bed in a silent, opulent room, I could hear my own heart hammering against my ribs. The door opened. A silhouette moved to the sofa across the room. I saw the brief orange flare of a lighter, then the glowing red ember of a cigarette in the dark. The air filled with the scent of expensive tobacco. I slipped out of bed. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out his face, but I could feel the sheer force of his presence. It was an aura of absolute power and danger that seemed to suck the very air from the room. I walked over and stood beside the sofa, my head bowed obediently. “Turn on the light.” His voice… it was deep, resonant, and disturbingly familiar. I scrambled to the switch by the door. Click. The room was flooded with light. I stared, my world tilting on its axis. “Uncle Damian??”
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