A new potential client was in the bar. It seemed like the night would not be terrible when I talked to the strange man. He was pleasant to talk to and he even protected me from Amos's harassment. When he invited me out of the tavern, I assumed he would pay to spend the night with me. He was nice, but he was still a man. I was unprepared for him to cover a horrendous-smelling cloth over my face. My last memory was struggling against his hold.
I groaned as I rolled onto my side. A deep throbbing pain was laced across my skull like painful spiderwebs. There was a disgusting taste in my mouth. My tongue was dry and heavy. I barely opened my eyes, and the bright sun pouring into the room caused my headache to intensify. I clutched the blankets to my chest, and my thumb brushed against the bare skin of my breast. I never slept naked, and the blanket bunched in my hand was made from knitted yarn. It was not the scratchy material of the inn's sheets.
Where was I? The man did not know where I lived, and he was traveling. He could have brought me anywhere. How long had I been unconscious?
I gritted my teeth as I forced my eyes open. I blinked a few times to clear my blurry vision and saw that I was in a bedroom. The fading wallpaper was peeling, and a wood cross was over the closet. There was a large wooden dresser and nightstand. I was lying on a large bed. A knit blanket was covering my naked body, and a soft quilt was underneath me.
I rubbed my temple as I tried to recall what the man had said to me in the bar. He mentioned going to New York. Did he drag me to the city with him? Why did he sedate me? No one had ever done that to me before.
There was a window on either side of the bed, but I could not see outside. It was quiet, and I assumed the streets of New York would be busy with people. There were no sounds of voices. This may not have been the city.
I pushed myself to the edge of the bed. It took all of my energy to sit on the side. My muscles ached as I wrapped the blanket around my body to hide my skin better. Where were my clothes? I placed my hand on the mattress. My knees wobbled as I struggled to gather enough strength to stand. I could only shuffle forward a few steps before I lost my strength, crumpling on the floor.
What did he do to me? How long would this last?
The floor creaked, and the sound came closer as someone approached the room. My heart pounded as I tried to get back onto my feet. I could not stay in a weak mess on the floor. It was impossible to find enough strength when the door opened. The strange man from the tavern was in the doorway. He ran his fingers through his hair as he watched me on the floor, pathetically trying to stand. He closed the door before walking toward me. Leaning down, he scooped me into his arms. I struggled to form words or scream as he carried me back to the bed. I groaned and tightened my grip on the blanket. He set me down gently on the bed. I forced my heavy eyes to stay open as he brushed my hair out of my face.
"It's okay, Maisie," he said.
I reached forward and pressed my hand against his chest. It was an attempt to push him away, but he misunderstood my intentions and held onto my hand.
"Where?" I asked.
I wanted to say more, but my voice was hoarse from my dry throat.
"Where?" he repeated my question. "I brought you to our farm. This is our home, and you will be part of our family."
He tightened his grip on my hand. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes as I tried to process his words. If I blinked, I would start sobbing. This man was insane. Amos may have been rough with me, but he never drugged me so I would be unconscious.
"What?" I asked.
"Maisie, family is important to you, and your family is gone," he said. "We are going to give you all of that love again. This is where you belong."
I shook my head. The pain spread like lightning bolts across my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I still cried. He brushed his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tears. I flinched at his touch, and he squeezed my hand harder.
What was he talking about? Part of his family? What was that supposed to mean?
I opened my eyes to see him watching me as he wiped away more tears with his fingers. The sunlight flooding the room let me see his face better than in the dim tavern. He had dark bags under his eyes. Wrinkles and creases were formed in the skin around his mouth and forehead. Dark stubble was across his jaw. One of his front teeth had a small chip.
There was a light knock before the hinges on the door creaked. The man looked over his shoulder as a woman walked toward us. He took his hand off my face but kept my hand in his hold against his chest. The woman's greying hair was pinned up, but pieces escaped and hung in her face. Her dress was faded and covered in a stained apron. She sat on the edge of the bed. Both of their bodies trapped me, but it did not matter because I could not move.
How many people were in this house? How many other girls have they done this to? What were they even planning on doing?
"She's awake," the woman said.
Reaching forward, she cupped the side of my face. Her palm was soft, unlike the man's calloused hands. I rolled my head to the side to get away from her touch. The man let go of my hand. I did not have the strength to get off the bed and run. I rolled onto my side so that I was facing away from these people. My body curled into a ball in a useless attempt to protect myself. My hands clutched the blanket in a tight grip.
"Joseph, this is not a good idea," the woman said. "What were you thinking?"
The man sighed. Would this woman be my savior? Would she get me out of whatever was going on?
"I have to do this," Joseph said. "We need to protect what we have worked for. We need to keep the Wilcox family alive."
"So we resort to kidnapping?" she asked.
"This is not kidnapping," he said. "You should have seen her life, Clara. It was absolutely terrible. I have saved her by bringing her to this house."
I gasped when a hand touched my back. The soft hand was against my skin between my shoulder blades. It had to be Clara, especially when she delicately dragged his fingers along my spine. My back was exposed from how the blanket wrapped around my body.
"What if she does not want to be here?" Clara asked.
"She will realize this is where she belongs," Joseph said.
"You think she will like Miles?"
"She will."
Who were these people? How could they so casually talk about my fate while I barely hang onto consciousness?
"Have you spoken to him yet?" Clara asked.
"No," Joseph said. "I will let him know when he comes inside. She should be more awake by then."
A moment of silence passed between them. I listened to my shaky breath as I focused on not sobbing.
"Who is she?" Clara asked.
Fingers ran through my hair. My muscles tightened as I tensed. The touch was rough, so it must be Joseph.
"Her name is Maisie," he said. "She will be perfect for Miles."
I had not disclosed many details to Joseph. All he knew was that I was a prostitute and that my grandmother had recently died. How could he be so confident I am perfect for this family? Who was Miles? What were they planning?
I was unable to hold back a sob. My hand shook as I covered my mouth to try and suppress myself from crying even more. Joseph grabbed my shoulder and rolled me onto my back. I blinked, and more tears rolled down my cheeks. My teeth dug into my lip as I tried to control myself. Clara's brows furrowed as she shook her head and cupped my face. They kept touching me, and I was unable to push them away.
"Why?" I asked.
My dry voice cracked. It was the only word I could say despite wanting to ask more.
Clara looked up at Joseph, and a crease formed between her brows. She did not move her hands as he brushed a stray hair from my face.
"Joe, you need to tell her what is happening," she said.
He nodded. His knuckles brushed across my forehead. Why were these people touching me so much?
"Maisie, I brought you here to be part of our family," Joseph said. "You are going to marry our son. Miles is a good man. You are going to like him."
My eyes widened. I struggled with my tongue to form words but did not know what to say. My chest tightened as I tried to breathe. I was unable to control my tears as I sobbed. These people were insane. I had been selling my body to men for the night. Strangers had stolen me to spend my life with their son.
Joseph pulled Clara's hands off my face. He held onto her as he pulled her off the bed. He slid his arm around her waist as they watched me cry. I covered my face with my hands in an attempt to shield myself.
"She will soon see that she loves it here," Joseph told Clara. "She is just scared right now because it is new."
The floor creaked under their feet before the door clicked shut. I rolled onto my side and continued to cry. I was somehow trapped in an even worse nightmare.