Captive

By Sara Schoen and Taylor Henderson

Cassidy Archer has always been known as a good girl, someone who followed the rules and always put others first. She helped whenever she could, and even went out of her way when someone needed her. She had a bright future ahead of her despite her hard past.

No one could have imagined she would be ripped from her life and held captive against her will. Except, she's not the only one.

Other girls, who were also snatched from their homes, families, and daily lives, now surround her. They are forced to live in cages like animals and can only hope to survive another day. Escape has proven futile, and many have given up hope that someone will find them.

The worst part is none of them know why they were taken. They have nothing in common, except they look similar. Excluding Cassidy. She doesn't match his type—fair skin, blonde hair, petite figure—at all. She has no family, no one is looking for her, but she's constantly reminded that she wasn't meant to be here. She was taken because she jumped in to save her friend from being kidnapped. Although she was a mistake, just like the other girls she has to fight to stay alive, even if he doesn't seem to want her. Despite his distaste for Cassidy, he keeps her around, and she can't figure out why.

Whatever it is, it's not good news. Cassidy can only hope to survive long enough to find a way out, but as each day passes, she's losing hope—fast.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Aug 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393396307

Book preview

A sign in front of a brick building Description automatically generated

Prologue

The sound of footsteps loomed closer. The dull thuds were accompanied by the unmistakable jingling of keys. Eventually, the door to the basement squeaked open and moments later I was thrown into a world of light. I hadn't seen the light of day in what felt like months, but in reality, I could guess it had only been a few days. The little light we received meant that he was coming back, and we never wanted that. His presence was like a bad omen. When he was around, it was almost guaranteed torture for one of us—sometimes all of us depending on his mood. He was in control here and we were at his mercy. We had no rights, and most of us had lost hope of anyone ever finding us and saving us from this hell.

Now it became a matter of waiting. For what? I wasn't sure, but if I had to guess, we were like pigs waiting for slaughter. That's why we came up with a plan. We wouldn't give up without a fight, and if we were going to die, then it would be while trying to escape.

He's coming! Are we doing it? one of the girls whispered. She had been here for only a few weeks and was still hopeful of a way to escape. I had been here for almost a year according to the newspaper he had slipped into my cage the other day to torment me. A year. A whole year. By now I had been forgotten. I had been thrown away like yesterday’s trash. I was nothing but old news. My face no longer adorned the newspapers, and soon the next missing girl had taken my place. If I had a family out there, maybe I would have tried harder to get out, but everyone I loved was here with me.

We can’t. We don't have enough people, I whispered. And I hope we never get enough people to overpower him if that means more girls are taken. A single tear slipped over my eyelashes. The last time we tried to escape he murdered one of the girls in cold blood. We had tried to take him by surprise and jump him, but he had overpowered us. We were all too weak. He kept us like that for that very reason—so that we couldn't escape. He determined when we ate, what we ate, and how much we ate. He limited our water to the bare minimum, and he even determined our sleep schedules. For the days before the attack we had all tried to gather our strength, eating as much as possible, drinking all of our water, and resting whenever we could. When the time came, I had honestly thought that everything was going to go as planned, but the fight ended so quickly.

Once he had us all back in our separate cages again, he went after the girl who had led the attack. He had dragged her out of the room by her hair, while she kicked and screamed, begging for her life. When she was gone, I knew she wasn't coming back. That night I fell asleep to the sound of her strangled screams and agonized whimpers.

I could remember rocking back and forth on my worn box spring mattress as I tried to block out her cries for help. I was shaking vigorously as she screamed and begged for her life. When she finally went silent, it broke me. I wanted to fight, I had the determination to fight for my freedom, but at what cost? I told myself I'd die to escape, but I didn't have the courage to put that to the test.

The sound of the bottom step groaning under his weight broke me out of my mental reverie. My gaze rested on him as he descended the last step into the damp basement. Instinctively, I scooted backwards on my bed, pressing my back against the wall and trying to put as much distance as I could between us. The sight before me was enough to make my skin crawl. He was standing at the bottom of the wooden staircase, a dark silhouette thanks to the dim light shining at the top of the staircase, but I could see another pair of legs being forced forward by him. He had brought a new girl to replace the one he killed, I thought horrified as I watched her struggle against him. Her sobs began to fill the room as he led her towards one of the empty cages.

He forcefully shoved her into Liz’s old cage and rattled the chain link fence as he locked her into her new cell. Without a word or a glance at any of us, he turned and ascended the stairs. The psychological torture had begun yet again. It was only a matter of time before he came back. I shivered at the thought, causing the springs in my mattress to squeak loudly. The sound caused him to come to a stop on the bottom stop, his body shifting as he turned to look at me.

Even though his features were covered in shadows, I knew he was looking at me. I was one of his favorites to torture and he had a habit of using me as a punching bag to relieve his anger. I braced myself for fear that he was going to come back and open my cage, but much to my surprise, he turned around and continued up the stairs. His footsteps challenged the new girl’s sobs for domination until the light at the top of the staircase flickered off and the door closed behind him—sealing us all into a perpetual darkness.

Who is he? Where are we? What's he going to do to us? The new girl whimpered with every word she spoke. When no one responded, she began to rattle her cage loudly.

No one had answered her right away because we didn't have an answer she would want to hear. Finally, to get her to stop making noise, I told her the truth. He controls our fates. We're locked up and if you want to live you have to do whatever he wants you to do, I stated solemnly. I tried hard to keep my voice steady. What's your name?

I'm Layla, she answered hesitantly, her voice trembling.

I'm Cassidy. I shifted in my bed, before I added, Welcome to hell.

That was all I said before I left her alone to her thoughts and fell backwards onto the mattress in my small fenced-in cubical. There was no way out. I had been here for a year and yet I still wasn't sure what he wanted from us—from me. Maybe this was all just a sick game to him. Maybe he got a rush from taking us and torturing us like we were his unwanted pets. Whatever it was, I just hoped that no one else would be taken, and that no other girl would be taken away from her loved ones.

But even I knew that was false hope. He wanted something, and he wouldn’t stop until he had it.

Chapter 1

C ass!

I lifted my head up, turning it sideways to squint over at my best friend, Julia, who was laid out next to me, her back on her beach towel with her arms crossed under her head. The sun made her yellow hair glisten and her blue eyes sparkle as she stared over at me.

Once she noticed she had my attention, she rolled over on her towel and propped her elbow up, balancing her head on her hand as she said, So, what are we doing for your birthday tonight?

My shoulders bobbed as I shrugged. I never had anything special planned for my birthday considering my friends always came up with stuff to do anyway. It honestly didn't matter to me what we did, as long as I was having fun with my friends and there was alcohol involved, I could have a good time.

Movies? Dancing? Dinner? she suggested, tossing ideas out into the open air.

No, no, and, I stretched the ‘and’ out, doing a drumroll on my sand covered towel before I said, no.

Julia rolled her eyes at me. "Come on, Cass! You never want to do anything fun for your birthday. You're turning 21! This is supposed to be the birthday, and you’re moving into the highlight of your life! We have to do something fun, memorable, and story worthy."

I laid my head down, resting it on my folded arms. We were currently laid out across the beach where Julia worked all summer as a beach tagger. Her job? To make sure people followed the rules of the beach, which included not drinking alcohol on the beach. Honestly, it was something only from our small town in New Jersey. Anyone else would never understand her job or why it was needed. I think she stopped trying to explain it whenever it came up.

Today was her day off and whenever someone walked past holding a can of beer, she would mumble something to herself about how she wasn't on duty. I couldn't help but laugh every time it happened, because despite the fact that she wasn't working, I could tell that all she wanted to do was jump up and rip the beer can out of the person's hand and yell at them for not following the rules. Despite her drinking underage and typically drinking off duty as well, she at least tried to hide it. She said if people didn’t make it obvious she wouldn’t do anything, but she wasn’t going to lose her job because someone else couldn’t be bothered to try and hide it.

21 isn’t that big of a deal when we’ve been drinking since high school. It’s nothing new, and besides, it's not that I never want to do anything fun. It’s just that I never have anything planned.

Exactly! For my birthday I start planning months in advance.

I smirked. That's one example of how we're different. I don't see why I have to celebrate that I'm getting one year older. One year closer to dying and being able to count the wrinkles on my face. I groaned drastically as Julia began to laugh.

You're such a drama queen.

It's true though! I argued, this time receiving an eye roll.

Julia raised an eyebrow at me suggestively, "Well, it's also one year closer to being able to buy us alcohol. Which you can legally do now."

A smile tugged at my lips. Ah, there's a silver lining to everything, I sighed. I was the oldest of all of my friends; they were at least six months behind me in age. Six months seems like nothing, but it can really make a difference when you’re the only one legally allowed to do something while all of your friends are underage.

Julia sat up, her hair flowing down over her shoulders. So, back to party planning, she began, but was quickly stopped by me as I raised my hand up in a halting motion.

We can go to that new club downtown, I suggested, earning a wide-eyed nod of approval from Julia.

She let out a screeching noise and slapped her hands together in excitement. That's a good idea! I have to text everyone and tell them to meet us there! Damn, Cass, you're good. She instantly tucked her hands into my beach bag, pulling her phone out of the depths and starting to jab her fingers all over the screen.

How was it possible that she was more excited about celebrating my birthday than I was? Just watching Julia as she sent messages to all of our friends about our plans tonight was making me anxious. I was always nervous about my birthday and if it were up to me I wouldn't celebrate it at all because somehow, something bad always happened on my birthday. Julia was the only person that knew about my birthday paranoia, and yet even she thought that it was all just a strange coincidence.

For every year since I was ten years old, something bad had happened to me on my birthday. May 11th had become more of a curse than a day to celebrate. The first year, my parents had left the house to run and grab some party decorations before my friends arrived. They had left me with my grandmother, and by the time the party rolled around, they still hadn't made an appearance. Even to this day I could remember the anger I felt at the fact that all of my friends had shown up before the piñata and the cake had even arrived. After a couple of hours went by, my grandmother began to worry and called all of the parents of my friends to come and pick them up. Finally, we received a call from the local police station telling us that there had been an accident. Apparently my parents had never even made it to the store; they were killed instantly in a head-on collision with a drunk driver.

Every year after that wasn't nearly as bad as losing both of my parents, yet somehow I was never rid of the bad luck that awaited me on the day that most kids are excited about. I was hoping this year would be different. I wanted nothing more than to go out with my friends and have the time of my life.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as Julia spoke, saying, Hey, Cassidy? I knew something was wrong since she was using my full name instead of just Cass, like she always called me.

Hmm? I mumbled in response.

She looked up at me from her phone, her eyes wide. Can I invite Jason? Her words were hesitant, as if she was afraid I was going to shove a fist full of sand into her mouth for just mentioning my ex-boyfriend's name.

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. Sure, why not?

Julia was frozen with her hands gripping her phone and her eyes on me. She looked a bit dumbfounded by my careless words. Maybe because he broke up with you just last week, she urged, still getting a blank look from me.

There are plenty of fish in the sea, Jules. I'm not going to be attached to one boy all my life. I had to move on at some point and considering we share all of the same friends, I figure sooner is better than later.

Her blue eyes scanned my face for any sign of emotion that may give her a hint as to what was going on in my mind. She knew that Jason and