THIS STORY IS MY CREATION! ANY COPYING OR PLAGIARISM OF MY STORIES WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED IN ANY FORM OR FASHION. I OWN THE COPYWRITING OF THIS STORY!
Walking along the dirt road on El Salvador’s outskirts, I look at all the tiny houses lining the street where I grew up. Shacks are more of the word for them, but we have had a decent life for being poor. I am the only girl out of four children and also the oldest. My father has tried to keep me hidden most of my life; he has been worried that I will be kidnapped by the gangs that run this part of the country, where they are turned into sex puppets for men. Some men crawl these streets looking for beautiful women to use in their business of prostitution. I finally decided to walk on a beautiful day after my parents went to the market for food. I wave at friends as I slowly walk down the road back toward our shack. Just as I am about to turn down the path where our house stands at the end, a car passes me before the brakes are applied as it slides to a stop. My heart starts pounding as they back up, making me take off down the small path we walk daily. Men are shouting for me to stop as they get closer behind me; finally, a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist, stopping me in my tracks as my feet are removed from the ground. I struggle against the vice-like grip, but it is no use, swinging around and being brought back to the silver SUV at the end of the path.
“Dad, is this the one you saw telling me to grab her?” as he sets me down before a giant man. “We both saw her, but you told the car to stop so I could grab her,” the older man’s finger comes up under my chin and raises my face to look at him.
“Yeah, that is the one I saw when we passed. Put her in the car; we will take her back to the house with us.”
“Let me GO!” I wiggle, trying to get free of the man holding my arms tightly against my side, trying to kick backward.
“She is a fireball. Don’t worry; she will learn her place after a few men show her that she is to obey exactly what she is told to do,” he crushes me up against his hard chest and lifts my hair, sniffing it. “She stinks. The first thing will be a shower to clean up this dirty one.”
The man he is talking to is standing at the door, looking down at me with a smirk. Nodding, the strong pair of arms lift me into the car, where I am put between two men in the back seat. Two more sit in the middle row and the one they called boss slides back in the front seat. I turn around, looking out the back window as the car takes me from the only home I have ever known. Tears fall down my face, knowing I should have never taken that short walk today. The men are arguing about a few things, but their words fall on deaf ears as I mentally beat myself up for not listening to my dad. These men usually come around dinner time, crashing down doors looking for girls to take. Why were they coming down the road right when I had to be walking back home?
“Dad, she is not answering me back here,” the man sitting beside me snaps me out of my thoughts. Blinking, I look over at him with a confused look.
“Answer him,” the older man in the front seat says quietly. “He is just trying to find out some information about you.”
“I am sorry, my mind was elsewhere. What did you ask?” trying to be as polite as I could about this.
“I wanted to know your name, how old you are, and you should not be married by your looks. You are around eighteen to twenty by how young your face looks.”
I look up into this man’s face, only about a foot from mine, seeing his chocolate brown eyes staring into mine. “My name is Avaleigh, but my family calls me Ava for short. I am nineteen years old, and I am not married to anyone.”
His grin goes almost to an evil smirk as his finger tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You are a lovely lady; you know that. Men will kill to have you, but I don’t think you must worry about that part. Every man, except my father, in this car is eyeing you as a potential wife for themselves.”
“I have no interest in becoming a wife for anyone,” crossing my arms over my chest, “I will kill myself before I am forced into being a play toy for men.”
His smirk slips to a scowl as he closes the distance between us, what little is left. The heat coming off him is intense, making me shiver a little as he stares into my eyes. “You will do whatever we tell you to do, girl. You have no say if one of these men wants you as theirs. My dad, myself, and our men run this country, so we get what we want without any lip. If needed, you try to take your life once you have been claimed; your life will be miserable. Locked up in a room for the remainder of your life or until you prove that you will not try and harm yourself again. Don’t try to backtalk us on this either because you will now find a new life in our compound with someone.”
“Zamir,” the man in the front seat warns, “leave her be for right now. She will learn her place here very soon.”
He nods, but his hand takes mine, entwining our fingers, making me look down at his hand. He has a smirk as he looks out the side window. I know who will claim me when we get to this place. He is staking it pretty hard right now as the man on the other side of me has a slight smirk on his face seeing his eyes flick down to our hands and then back up. I sigh, shaking my head a little.
“Did he say your name was Zamir?” looking at the man holding my hand.
“Yes, sorry I did not introduce myself, did I? It has been a hectic day, so I forgot my manners. My name is Zamir Cruze, and my father is Rafael Cruze,” nodding to the older man in the front seat.
I furrow my brow when it hits me exactly who this is; they are the biggest drug lords in the county. They run the country, having the police in their back pockets where no one says no to them. He must see the shocked look on my face because he chuckles. “You’re fine, love; we will not hurt you. Just relax; I will show you where you live as soon as we return home.” His eyes flash with amusement momentarily before returning to their regular calm self.
We drive for what seems like forever when we finally turn down a small dirt driveway as a huge chain link fence comes into view. As we pull up to the gate that must be at least ten feet tall with razor-sharp wire wound around the top, it opens slowly with a remote in the car. Men everywhere with guns standing at attention, six alone at the gate with three on each side. Driving down the long driveway, we arrive at the front entrance of the biggest house I have ever seen.