It was sad that she didn’t even know what the city was called or where the complex was. They never told any of the girls where they were moved. She could have been moved within the same city all her life or hopped a handful, she didn’t know. She wondered sometimes where she would live if she were ever free. She knew there were mountains and seas in the world, but she'd never seen either. She would like mountains. They would make her feel secure, like tall guards standing all around her, keeping her safe from outside invasion. Yeah, she'd like to see mountains one day.
And she most likely never would.
Blinking the stinging feeling in her eyes, she kept her face neutral.
“I’ve heard guys who bid on you die. That true?” the burly man from the passenger side asked.
She didn't respond. There was nothing for her to respond. The rumor mill was working as it always did. And it didn't do shit for her.
Before he could say another word, the familiar fences of the complex came into view, the large gates opening to let them in, imprisoning her once again.
Chapter fourLyla
The complex was large, a gated piece of land in the middle of nowhere with four buildings. One building housed security personnel and the handlers on site, the remaining three housed girls of all ages. Building A had dormitories and training areas for girls under ten, Building B had the same for all girls aged ten to eighteen, and Building C—the one where she lived—had slightly larger dormitories and one medical room. Though it was a normal room, it had been dubbed so by the girls because that’s where they were sent if one of them came back too injured. It was the nicest room she had ever slept in, with a proper bed instead of the bunk beds they were given, and a soft mattress and two pillows. Her mattress was hard and her single pillow harder. Although it didn’t matter because usually when someone went to the medical room, they were in too much pain to notice any of the nice things.
She had been there once since she’d come to the complex—the night she’d met him.
She swallowed, shaking herself out of the painful memory, one that had sent her to the room for weeks to heal, one that had almost convinced her she was going to die.
Getting out of the car as the security people closed the gates, she made her way toward her housing and watched her handler, Three, come down the stairs from Building C. The girls didn’t know the handlers' real names. Most of them didn’t even know their own real names. They were all given names, and that’s who they became. Three had been her handler since she came to the complex at sixteen, for eight years. The woman was usually not as bad as handlers One and Two were. She was fair to the girls, wanted them fed and rested and looking good, and had simple rules for her dorms. As long as one toed the line, she was decent. But Lyla wasn’t fooled by the charade. She knew how quickly the switch flipped, how little time it took for calm to become cruel.
The older woman, at least in her forties, looked down at Lyla with a frown on her face. “Again?”
Lyla nodded. The question hadn’t even needed to be fully asked. After six years, they were all aware of the bad luck she brought her buyers. Everyone knew someone targeted them, but no one knew who.
Three shook her head. “Idiot men, they never learn.”
Lyla stayed silent, waiting for instruction. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Go, get rest.”
Without waiting for more, Lyla quickly skirted the other woman and climbed the stairs to the building. It was a few decades old, the paint peeling in some places and the furniture cracked in some, but it was still the nicest house she had been in. Complexes like these were many, and Lyla had lived in five different complexes—the most unusual for any girl—for some bizarre reason. Usually, a girl stayed where she was initially sent, getting familiar with the location and the handlers. She might be moved once, or maximum twice, but never five times, and Lyla didn’t understand why she had been. She’d been a compliant child, a quiet adolescent, and it just didn’t make sense. She was just glad she’d been steady for the last eight years.
Climbing the stairs to the second floor where her room was, she passed a few girls loitering on the landing, talking to each other about their customers or masters, whichever they had. There weren’t as many girls in this building as the others, mainly because a lot of girls were contracted for long-term and had to stay with their contractors. Just like her friend Malini had been for a few months.
She and Malini hadn’t been close, not until the night that had changed her life and the other girl had stood by her, letting her scream as she held her hand. In the aftermath of that event, Lyla had found the closest thing to a friend for the first time, and it had made breathing a little easier for a while.