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Dead. I couldn’t say the word. Not out loud at least. I couldn’t think of Mackenzie cold and blue and six feet under the earth. Death was for the elderly – not beautiful fifteen-year-old girls with their whole lives ahead of them. Not her …
    “We think Mackenzie, along with the six other girls listed, was targeted by a gang of sexual predators who run an illegal prostitution ring in Mexico. Cade, if you can remember anything it is imperative you tell us so we can stop those men before they get Mackenzie across the border …”
    “I can’t think,” I choked out. “It was dark and the lights … the lights on their truck blinded me … fuck.” I yanked at my hair in frustration as I desperately tried to force the memories of tonight to the surface of my mind.
    “What are the chances of finding my daughter – of getting Mackenzie back?” Mr. Moore asked and I froze. I couldn’t look at him. I could barely breathe through the guilt and the pain.
    The male officer sighed wearily. “If our assumptions are correct, Mr. Moore, and they’ve moved Mackenzie across the border …”
    The police officer’s voice trailed off and he shook his head sadly.
     
     
    ****

Mackenzie
    June 7 th , 2002
     
     
    I had never thought much about the word ‘rape’.
    I never had to.
    It wasn’t something I had ever come into contact with …
    Until now.
    Fear like I had never known before spiraled through me. I stood barefoot on a cold concrete floor with my wrists in manacles, tied in chains above my head.
    I was naked and I wasn’t alone.
    Six other girls were tied to the same ceiling as me. They were naked as well, and I had a feeling one of those girls was dead. The redhead. She hadn’t made a sound for hours. The rest of the girls were weeping – myself included.
    I was so thirsty that I was surprised to be still alive and breathing. My lips tasted of dry blood and vomit. I could taste my lips, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel my hands either. I wished I couldn’t smell anything. The smell of blood and urine was so strong it was nauseating ...
    “No … God, please stop,” the black-haired girl I had come to know as Mary cried out, but he didn’t stop. He continued to force her and laugh cruelly when she begged for mercy.
    The men hurt Mary worse than the rest of us because Mary always fought back. They beat her and whipped her. They raped her and tortured her, and Mary always fought back.
    “You fucking animals,” she screamed and the men laughed. They forced Mary onto her back on the ground and then one man – the man who was hovering over her – started entering her mouth. Two other men held her legs apart as the man Mary was told to call Master knelt between her legs …
    I couldn’t look a second longer.
    Clenching my eyes shut, I fought to hold in my sobs. I wanted to scream at him to leave Mary alone, but I couldn’t because my voice was gone. I had worn it out screaming for Cade to save me while those men took turns with me.
    “Pretty Sunshine …” His breath – my Master’s breath – was on my neck and I gagged. He released my wrists from the manacles and immediately I fell to the floor, bone-tired and defeated. With my eyes closed, I held perfectly still as several pairs of hands groped at my body. Someone grabbed my hair and the sound of a whip lashing cut through the air.
    “Not this one.” I heard a man with a thick Spanish accent roar seconds before I was dragged roughly to my feet. “This one is special.”
    Moments later I was lifted into a man’s arms and carried out of the holding cell.
    I shook my head, but I was weary. I was so tired. “Please,” I rasped. “I want to go home …”
    “Hair like the sun,” the man who was carrying me told me. “Very rare. You make Dimitri lots of money.”
    I clenched my eyes shut and thought of Cade.
    Cade …
    Cade …
    Cade …
     
     
     
    ****

Winter 2002
    Age 15

Cade
    December 25 th , 2002
     
     
    “Cade, you have to