Finders Keepers Series: Part I Read online

  FINDERS KEEPERS SERIES

  ~PART I~

  BY: DAYA DANIELS

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Quote

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About the Author

  Copyright@ 2016 by Daya Daniels

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any way, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or any other means without the explicit written permission of the author, except for brief quotations of the book when writing a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and even facts are the product of the author’s imagination. Wait a minute...especially facts. Any resemblance to actual people—alive, dead, or someplace in between—is completely by chance and likely in your head.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. Holy hell, this is important. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Let’s not forget! All song titles in this book are the property of the sole copyright owners.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you first and foremost to the readers.

  Without you, my stories would have no audience.

  To my wonderful husband, I love you. Your support is priceless.

  Thank you to J. Zweifel for helping to make sure that all my words aren’t a jumbled mess on the page!

  You’re all fucking awesome!

  “The measure of a man is what he does with power.”

  -Plato

  CHAPTER ONE

  Meridian, Idaho

  “They promised me they wouldn’t hurt you! Lily, they promised me!” Nina screamed hysterically.

  I was naked. I’d been unconscious. There was an unfamiliar odor all over my bruised skin. I stumbled forward attempting to stand up but couldn’t get my balance. I narrowed my eyes trying to focus on Nina.

  Nina was a drug addict. She was my friend but she was most certainly not someone you could trust. If your well-being stood between her and her habit, surely you would be the first to go.

  “Lily, I promise you! You have to believe me,” Nina pleaded as if it somehow made her less responsible for the circumstances I was in. As if it somehow made my left arm any less broken than it was.

  It was October 2nd and today was my 24th birthday.

  A few feet away from me the red sequined skirt that I put on earlier in the morning, Nina’s skirt, lay in the grey dust on the floor. All I wanted to do was to put that skirt back on and run, but my spaghetti legs wouldn’t carry me towards it. I collapsed to the floor again.

  I’d forgiven Nina for many things in the past but whatever Nina had gotten us into, me into, this time was unforgivable. This she couldn’t fix. I couldn’t fix. It was done.

  She’d helped me to style my hair that snowy morning and told me specifically what to wear.

  “Lily, this skirt would look perfect on you. You can borrow it. It’s probably going to be a little snug on you but the tighter the better, right!”

  We giggled like sisters would, that morning, while getting dressed in the public restroom that was attached to Pritchard’s Service Station, planning out the rest of my special day.

  I was thicker than Nina. She was much taller. Her curly red hair, emerald-green eyes and slender body were a stark contrast to my blue eyes, wavy black hair and medium, shapely frame. Over the years, the little that I had routinely went missing whenever she was around. A gold earring here. A silver hair clip there. Always little things that would go unnoticed if I wasn’t paying attention. If I gave Nina five dollars for a two-dollar purchase, it was inevitable that the change would come up short. We’d spent years together living out of shelters and moving from place to place, with me trying to find honest work and us scrounging for food every day. I knew Nina turned tricks on the side and on some level also knew she was also comfortable with it. Prostitution wasn’t something I ever had to reduce myself to, which made our friendship at times awkward. How could I judge? There were times when Nina’s work fed us and kept us warm.

  I ran my hand down the right side of my face, gingerly touching my ear and gasped when I saw the blood and the grey dust and gravel that was left in my hand. Each breath I took caused me agony and I was almost certain a few of my ribs were broken. I’d become accustomed long ago to taking a beating but this was something entirely different—something I wasn’t prepared for. This was the same violence that I tried so hard to leave behind and I’d come full circle back to it. Whatever she’d done, I excused, at least she’d come back for me.

  “Nina,” I gasped. “Help me. I need help. They’re coming back.”

  I didn’t know where I was exactly. It wasn’t a house. Tarps were everywhere, covering what looked to be old machinery. Exposed pipes and wiring were along the walls and grey dust billowed up from the floor with my every movement. It was the same dust that now covered what was left of my tattered stockings. I narrowed my eyes looking around noticing large open windows all around with no frames in them, allowing me a clear view directly out to the hazy Idaho sky. It was a construction site or unfinished building of some sort. The cool breeze touched my achy skin and I winced, attempting to stand again.

  “Nina,” I moaned, feeling the wetness on my cheeks. “Please, Nina, focus. I need you to help me. I can hardly walk.”

  Still, Nina stood there with her bony hands covering her face until she dropped them down in front of her, allowing me to see her pale skin that was covered in sweat. The pupils in her bulging green eyes were dilated. It didn’t take me long to realize she was high. Nina paced back and forth, unable to focus on the sound of my voice. She blabbered to herself, throwing her arms up in the air. I listened, stunned and confused by her words.

  “What am I going to do?! If I help you they won’t give me what they promised! If I help you to leave they won’t give me anything! They’ll kill me and that wasn’t part of the deal!”

  In the fog that was now my brain, I realized that Nina had traded me for her fucking habit.

  ***

  The footsteps echoed closer and the voices grew louder. Whoever these men were, they were prepared for round two.

  “Lily, I have to leave. I have no choice. I’m sorry.”

  I’ve never seen such regret in Nina’s eyes but we both knew deep down that she did have a choice. Before I could beg with the little oxygen I had left in my lungs for Nina to reconsider, she grabbed my purse and scurried away, leaving me a trembling, sobbing mess, alone on the dirty floor.

  I scanned the room looking for anything I could use to defend myself. If I managed to get enough leverage somehow or a weapon, maybe I could take them. If my attempt went wrong, I knew I’d be beaten lifelessly again, possibly killed. A pair of scuffed boots came into my vision from the floor, kicking up dust.

  “Here’s our Lily. We’re not happy with you right now but guess what, you can make it up to us,” he joked.

  The man lifted me from the floor. I whimpered at the pain the movement caused my rib cage. “Your friend Nina really set you up, sweet Lily,” Dawson drawled into my ear while he dragged my lifeless body over to what looked like a carpenter’s bench.

  My bare knees scraped painfully along the sandy concrete floor. The familiar scent of cigarettes and sweat that already dusted my skin invaded my nostrils again. Horrified, it was his scent I realized. This stranger’s scent was all
over me. In the blur of my vision, I could almost make out his features. Any woman might have thought he was even handsome. When I looked closer, there wasn’t much behind those ice grey eyes—his gaze was cold and terrifying. If I wasn’t mistaken I’d seen him before but I wasn’t certain where. He wasn’t all that tall, medium build, but he was strong. I surveyed the room and noticed that there were two other men. I couldn’t make out each of their features, except for one. But they had the same eerie gazes focused on me. One had the most remarkable green eyes—he almost regarded me like he felt something. I couldn’t figure out what it was in those green eyes when I met his stare. Then I recognized it was pity.

  I was laid stomach first over a large bench. Despite my broken arm, my hands were tied together and laced over a metal hook that anchored the bench above my head. The rope burned into my skin with each movement I made.

  “Nina did say that you would be worthwhile but she was holding out—you are worth every penny. This whole thing would have gone much easier for you if you just didn’t fight so much. This could have been pleasurable, if you just accepted it.”

  Pleasurable? I scoffed to myself. This man was insane. I began to sob uncontrollably, feeling defeated and unsure of how I’d get myself out of this.

  “Please understand that it was never our intention to hurt you, Lily, or make you such a mess. That was the only way Nina would let us have you, but you keep fighting, so much resistance you gave us and…” he paused, “…what can I say? Things got out of hand.

  “Who knew Lily would be such a fighter?” the stranger whispered in my ear.

  “Dawson, man, I think her arm is broken.” Green Eyes gestured towards my twisted left arm.

  Dawson, I silently acknowledged. The stranger’s name is Dawson. The room began to spin.

  “It’s only a broken fucking arm!” Dawson roared. “I’m getting my money’s worth out of this one. Nina owes it to me. She may have left me this precious piece of pussy but in my books, she still owes me money! Lots of money!”

  Dawson ran his hard, callused hands through my hair softly and then moved me into position, wrenching me up on the balls of my feet in front of him. I heard the hissing sound of a zipper and a deep muffled voice pressed into my ear, leaving a soft kiss there. My eyelids were heavy. I knew begging was useless. I was almost out of coping mechanisms. I held on to the last one I had. Thick fingers dug into the bare skin at my hips and Dawson’s heavy weight settled behind me. I was tired, so tired. I shut my eyes and pictured myself someplace else.

  The drive out to the clearing was only twenty minutes. When we finally arrive, the sky is burnt orange and a cool breeze blows over the tall brown grass that swayed with the wind. We’re going duck hunting.

  “Come on. I’ll race you,” my father, Daniel, says, crouching down, holding two rifles and making a dash for it.

  I giggle and giggle trying to catch up with him. Then he stops and spins around to look at me with a smile that brightens his entire face. When I step closer, his cheeks are pink from the cold and his brown eyes look at me strangely.

  “What, Dad?” I ask smiling at him.

  “I know you’re only eight,” he jokes. “But I want to teach you something very important.”

  “What?”

  “How to use a gun,” Daniel says. “Don’t tell your mom I showed you this.”

  I giggle.

  He begins to load shells into the shotgun, then positions me in front of him.

  My little hands are covered with burgundy knit gloves.

  “You have to have patience,” he whispers, stooping next to me, sliding some earmuffs over my ears.

  He points towards the sky, holding the rifle in place over his forearm. We wait for a few minutes. In a moment, three ducks are flying over us, squawking. Daniel positioned the gun, keeping his eyes trained on the sky and then pulls the trigger. The duck goes completely limp and falls to the ground from high above.

  “We got it!” I yell.

  Daniel smiles and steps ahead, gesturing for me to follow behind him to retrieve it. I watch as his hands brush over the tops of the tall grass. I place my small hand in his and he squeezes it, meeting my eyes with a smile.

  I awoke to the sound of faint voices. In the distance, the three men discussed how to dispose of me.

  “We can’t risk her going to the police. You know that isn’t how I do things,” Dawson barked. “I need her buried...gone.”

  “I think she’s dead anyhow,” one of the other men stated flatly. “I’m doing a run up to Alberta tonight, passing by Bitterroot on the way through. There’s nothing up in those woods this time of year. Nothing.

  “I can dump her there and the snow by the end of today will have buried her under six inches of cover. No fuss no muss. Trust me.”

  Dawson nodded. “Just get rid of her. Make sure you bury her and when you’re done, find that fucking Nina and get my money. If she doesn’t have it, bury her too,” he said.

  All in a day’s work, I thought. Stupid Nina. This Dawson never had any intention of giving Nina what she’d traded me for in the first place, now we would both be dead.

  It took them hardly any effort to roll my five-foot-six frame up in the clear tarp. I kept my eyes closed. I was too tired to open them. Each tug of the plastic against my body as it tightened around me was excruciating. I was in pain but I could no longer scream. I was mute. My brain was no longer processing information clearly. I was running out of oxygen. Maybe I was dead? Maybe death was better than this? If they were going to toss me out naked into the snow, I’d freeze to death, if I wasn’t eaten by the wolves first.

  We drove for what seemed like hours.

  The tools in the hold of the van rattled nonstop in the darkness where I lay while Prince played on the old radio. Old Friends 4 Sale was the song. The driver with no name casually hummed along to it while enjoying a cigarette at the same time. How fitting a song, I thought, for how this day had turned out. Each bump and twist and turn on the road made my body howl in pain.

  Eventually, we came to a stop. The back doors of the van opened and faint light momentarily blinded my half-opened eyes. I felt a hard tug on the tarp which slid along the floor, banging my head in the process. I was hoisted up over the man’s shoulder.

  I watched the indentations that his boots made go by in the snow as he walked a few steps. Then he dropped the finished cigarette butt that he was smoking into the snow. The tip of it was covered in blood. He was bleeding. We approached the end of the walk and the man stopped. I felt the momentum of my body sway in his grip and then I was floating for a moment, suspended in mid-air, as the cold winds ripped around my ears. He’d tossed me over the edge of someplace high.

  Then I was tumbling, full of panic. My heartbeat wanted to race but it remained slow, steady. My heart was tired. It had been a long day. The cold air entered my lungs. Grey tree branches, a log, jagged rocks, another log, so many jagged rocks, white snow, blue sky, white clouds overhead, birds flying, more rocks. As I rolled down the steep embankment, looking up and out of the corner of my eye, I took in that the old Chevy van was blue. It was the same muted blue as the street sign for Pritchard’s Service Station along US-93.

  I hit a rock, hard. My vision went hazy. Blood trickled down into my eyes. The sound of the plastic around me shredding filled my ears and then it stopped, as my side made a thud against the hard snow. The tarp on the way down had become partially unbound. The edges of it were covered in blood at my side. The cold air prickled my now exposed skin. I rested there, breathing slowly. Wisps of my dark hair covered my face as each breeze swept over me. I was still. There was nothing but blinding white all around me while snowflakes continued to fall.

  There was a small ravine in the distance with a few elk surrounding it. I shifted my eyes to the sky. Eagles flew overhead and the distinct sound of crows could be heard all around me. In these temperatures, outdoors and naked, I knew I’d be dead in a matter of time. I just wished it would come soon.
>
  It was dusk. It would be completely dark in an hour. I couldn’t feel my hands or my feet. I tried to move my legs but they were frozen, either by the cold or the inability of my brain to tell them to budge. Either way, I couldn’t move them. I was exhausted.

  There was nothing for me to go back to. I’d never recover from this and be normal again. What would I look like? What did I look like now? Who would want me after this? I felt like a whore. Nina had turned me into a fucking whore.

  People will know what happened to me. They will ask questions. I’d have to explain over and over and they would pity me. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  I wanted to die—yes. It was best I did.

  I looked up again at the earth as it spun slowly. The remnants of white clouds streamed across the sky as grey shadowed them. I tried to concentrate on the falling snow and how beautiful it was. The snow always reminded me of Christmas, no matter what time of year it was.

  Each snowflake that fell was unique. I counted them and focused on how long it would take them to gently rest on my nearly frozen face as they fell from the sky. I wondered how long it would take until I was completely blanketed by all of them and I’d be forgotten. I started to drift off and I knew the hypothermia was just setting in.

  It was just after seven in the morning. I awake to the comforting smell of apples and cinnamon and I knew Mommy was in the kitchen. I slip on my pink robe and run out of my bedroom.

  “Merry Christmas, Mommy!” I yell, wrapping my arms around her.

  She always smelled of peaches and whatever else she might have been baking that day.

  “Merry Christmas, Lily. I know you’ve been such a good girl this year. Look at what we bought you!”

  We sit around the Christmas tree. Mommy passes me the biggest gift under there bundled in candy cane print paper.