I hear the door opening, and I sense movement near my body. Hot breath heats my cheek letting me know someone’s there. "Sasha, you need to reveal to us who helped you, or things are only going to get a lot worse for you." A gruff voice I know all too well causes bile to rise and threatens to empty again.
I turn my head away and say, “I will never give up who helped me.” Only my words come out all wrong and slurred. What's wrong with my speech?
He sighs. "Fine then, the hard way it is."
I laugh in my mind. Given what I have already been through, I thought that already was the hard way.
I'm pulled upwards by the ropes around my wrists, and he begins walking. I fall to my knees as soon as I try to take my first step.
"Get up," he growls.
My hands are yanked up, and my shoulders scream from the pain. A whimper tries to escape but can't get past the lump in my throat. He grips my elbow and pulls me along with him.
Light explodes between the tiny cracks in my swollen eyes and heat from the sunshine hits my skin. I realise I’m outside. I smell the salty ocean air and
feel the chilly breeze. He continues to walk me for a moment, and then stops. I'm pushed to my knees, and then my hands are lifted above my head and tied to something round. I feel it with my fingertips; it’s hard and rough, and feels like a wooden pole.
"Now, boys, watch and learn. This is what we do to slave girls who try to escape and protect traitors." I can hear the sick excitement in his voice. He has been gunning for me ever since I arrived.
My head is still thumping painfully, and my chest is rising and falling fast, waiting for the first punch to come. Trying to predict from which angle, so I can brace for the pain, I feel it.
A scream is ripped from my throat as a searing sensation runs down my back. I arch in response to the blistering pain. I sob when I realise he's whipping me.
I try to move forward to get away. When I feel it again, I scream. My back forces itself forward, trying uselessly to get away from the attacking whip.
Trying to force my hands out of the ropes to defend myself has caused my wrists to throb with pain. I want to crawl into a ball and try to protect what piece of untouched flesh I have left.
I scream again as the whip slashes through my thin dress and skin. The pungent smell of metallic fills my nose. The sliminess of my blood as the whip flicks down my back, seeps downward. The pounding in my head is growing. My eyes are begging me to open them to see, to escape. My body arches again along with a piercing scream from another strike.
Tears overflowing through my swollen eyes, I can taste the saltiness on my lips. My head sags to my chest, my breathing heavy. I sense my body going faint. I'm so tired. The promise of unconsciousness whispers on the edges of my mind. Darkness begins to envelope me.
All of a sudden, I hear screaming in the distance. I recognise that voice. It's Lily. She's getting closer. Oh, thank God, I can tell her how much I love her. How much she has been the best big sister anyone could ever ask for, and demand that she keeps fighting.
Suddenly, I'm turned over. I hear her sweet voice talking to me; she's crying. Lil's arms feel so warm around my body. Home. I'm finally home. I love you, Lil. I try to say except my mouth won't move. I scream it in my mind to her. I love you, Lily! These are my last thoughts as darkness surrounds me and the light drifts away.
CHAPTER ONE
Carefree and Flying High
Taking a seat and looking through the enormous glass window, I watch a plane move down the runway, building up speed, until it's up, and flying into the sky off to some exciting place in the world.
I look down at my bags, butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Finally, a packed suitcase and passport in my hands. I'm finally here, Sydney airport, and I'll be getting on a plane and leaving Australia, my home. I love my home, but seeing the world has always been a dream of mine, and today that dream is finally coming true. I, Lily Morgan, will be getting on a plane to travel the world. Excitement vibrates through me like fireworks ready to show the world just how happy I am.
I look around the airport terminal at the people bustling around me; some on their phones, a couple trying to get their children to behave, and others just sitting, looking out at the runway. I wonder if they are like me, in awe of doing something they have only ever dreamed of.
I feel movement on my denim shorts and look down past my white shirt to see Sasha poking me. I look over at my sister. She looks like she's ready to burst with joy as well.
"Lil listen." Sash is jumping on her bum like a little kid, her yellow dress bouncing with her. She points to the ceiling, and I hear the man on the voiceover announcing our gate is ready for boarding. People start walking over and lining up with their tickets.
We've been talking about going overseas since high school, but we kept putting it off. Then three years ago, our parents were killed in a car accident. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit my parents, striking the passenger’s side of the car. They both died instantly from the impact. Sasha and I crumbled when we lost our parents, but we managed to pull ourselves through some pretty tough times and have slowly moved on with our lives.
My eyes start to water and I feel a familiar palm squeeze my hand. I look over, and Sash gives me a sad smile. She knows what I'm thinking about, and like always, she is there for me. I bury my pain and put a smile on my face for her; she has suffered enough. I don't want to remind her of how much we have lost.
When our parents passed, the first place we went was the family farm. We climbed up into our childhood tree for the first time in many years. We cried together and said our goodbyes to our parents.
Sash may be my little sister, but she is also my best friend. Living on a farm far away from any neighbours, we only ever had each other, and that's all we needed. Being only two years apart, we were always into the same things. We shared secrets and practiced kissing on the back of our hands, giving each other tips. All of this in our favourite tree, we would climb, sit and talk in our willow tree for hours after school until mum would call us in for dinner.
Many people ask if we are sisters, but we can never understand how people pick us out. We don’t think we look alike. Sash has Mum’s beautiful straight, light brown hair, blue eyes, and her outgoing personality. At twenty-eight, I have more of my dad's dark blond, thick straight hair and his green eyes. Sasha’s and my body types are similar though, generous in the bust area but not over-the-top. We're both tanned and athletic from growing up working on the farm.
With our parents gone and no one to keep the wheat farm going, Sasha and I decided to move back home. It’s been in our family for four generations. One day we knew one of us would take it over. It meant too much to our dad to just see it go to a stranger.
It was hard at first to live where our parents had. Sometimes I think I can still hear my mum call us in for dinner or hear my dad's laughter. My parents were in love; not just any love, they were soul mates. They never fought. They argued, but not for long, and usually only if they believed the other was going to get hurt or letdown. They would have done anything for each other. I suppose it was right they died together. I think if one had lived, they would have died of a broken heart anyway.
After working the farm for three years and acquiring some trustworthy employees, Sasha and I decided it was time to do some travelling. We didn't want to keep putting it off and one day regret never doing it. It's what our parents would have wanted. Mum and Dad were both adventurous. They wanted Sash and I to see the world before we settled down.
We have no set plans, but our first stop is New York City. It's the one place we both want to visit first.
"Lil, let's go line up," Sash’s excited voice sends butterflies to my stomach.
We stand from our seats, pick up our suitcases and start toward the ticket desk. My heart beats wildly, and I have a huge smile. I glance at Sasha and see she has the same sized grin on her face. Yep, this is going to be a trip of a lifetime.
***
I clock her as soon as she gets off the plane, fucking perfect. One of the most stunning smiles and perfect bodies I've ever seen. Every man turns his head as she walks by. It helps she has a mini version right next to her.
Country girls, easy to pick with their clothes. And first-time travellers. The dumbstruck look on their faces says it all.
She would be fucking perfect for what Marco’s looking for. He’d probably fall all over his feet to have her. A pang hits my chest, knowing these happy, carefree girls would soon be caught and caged.
***
After stepping out of JFK Airport in New York, we quickly realise we have made the journey to a whole new world. It doesn't take long to get a cab; they are everywhere. Half an hour later, we are at our hotel checking into our double room. After a quick glance around and look out the window, we decide to head to the bar downstairs to have one drink before calling it a night. Looking around the bar, I'm in awe of all the different types of people. No one seems to be relaxed. Everyone is dressed up in suits, sophisticated dresses and heels, just to a have a drink at a bar.
I peek over at Sasha and grin at our clothes. Sasha is in a denim skirt and a tank top. I’m in ripped Levi jeans and a plain white t-shirt, and we’re both wearing our flat sandals that we wear everywhere. This is what everyone wears back home at our local bar or pub.
"What?" Sash asks, seeing me smiling widely.
I laugh while I explain. "Look at us and look at everyone else. We stick out like sore thumbs."
Sasha looks around. Realising what I’m saying, she smiles and says. "We do, don't we. Maybe we should have dressed up a little bit."
We both burst out laughing and I reply, "Next time we will. Lesson learned." We finish our drinks and head back to our room.
After our showers, Sash and I lay in bed, facing each other, both giggling and talking about what in New York City we want to see tomorrow.
Sash drifts off to sleep first, and I follow soon after, thinking of all the wonderful places we’re about to experience and will remember for the rest of our lives.
***
Days, I've watched her. Her smile lights up a room, people can't help but look when they hear her soft, sexy and musical laugh.
She senses something. She looks back now and again, and I see her shiver when I imagine undressing her. She feels me, without even knowing I'm here.
Her light hair flows like fucking silk. I almost touch it when I get too close. Clenching my hands, I need to remember to keep my distance. It's becoming harder and harder every day I watch her. She's fire, and I am a stupid motherfucking moth who wants what I can't have.
And what I can't have is Lily Morgan.
I searched their room while they were out and found their passports. My contacts have been able to tell me they’re from New South Wales, Australia.
Lily and her sister Sasha own a wheat farm, no known relatives, only employees looking after it. My contact has checked their mobile numbers and there have been no calls home to anyone to check in.
They are making this too simple. Two girls, travelling the world and having not one person to care if they are okay. Stupid girls, you have a fox chasing you, and you are going to be so easy to catch.
***
I’m awoken when my bed starts to bounce. I then see light brown hair whip past my face and hear a giggle.
"Wake up, Lil. It’s another beautiful day in New York City," Sasha booms across the room as she enters the bathroom.
I roll over and look out the window, a smile gracing my lips as I take in the beautiful view of a warm, sunny New York day. We shower, dress, and head out of the hotel ready for day five in this marvellous city.
A truck drives past with a sign saying P!nk will be at Madison Square Garden tonight. I grab Sasha's hands and start bouncing on my feet, pointing and shouting about it. Sash sees what I’m so excited about and starts squealing with me. We end our squeals and look around to find people staring. We huddle together and giggle as we begin our walk to the Liberty Island ferry. What's that saying, when in Rome, well, when in New York, squeal because you can't contain your excitement.
On our five-minute walk to the ferry, I get goose bumps and that same strange feeling I’ve felt had a few times. I can’t pinpoint what it is exactly. It’s an instinct that tells me to look behind me and search the area. I tell myself it's nothing, just being in a new place; that's all.
We get on the nine-thirty ferry. It takes only twenty minutes until we step onto Liberty Island. Looking up at the Statue of Liberty feels like a dream, like I still see it through the TV screen or in the travel brochure. Until we are inside the crown. Looking out over the water, it finally hits me that we are really here.
My parents’ smiles flash through my mind. They would be proud of Sasha and me. The hard work we have done on the farm to get it back on track after their deaths. So many things we had to learn, that we didn't realise our parents did while we went off and played, enjoying our childhood. But we’ve done it, and now we are seeing the world. I know my parents would be happy. My smile grows as I glimpse Sash to my right, taking millions of pictures.