Saving Brigit Read Online Free PDF Page B

breasts were in view even behind the material. Her high cheekbones, large, dark eyes, and full lips lent her the look of exotic beauty enhanced by the caramel color of her skin. Raven black hair fell in rivers of waves over her shoulders. In America, she could have made a fortune as a model. Her face had an aura of mystery merchants will kill for.
    The girl—for she looked younger than Brigit’s nineteen years—stared with unabashed frankness.
    “I am sorry you are here,” Fatima said.
    “Where the hell
is
here?”
    “Nowhere you want to be.”
    No shit.
“You speak English.”
    “I went to school in New York City.”
    “I’m from San Francisco.”
    “Nice place.” The girl looked wistful.
    “Yeah, it is, but hell would be nice compared to here.” Her words brought a smile to the girl’s face. “We’re prisoners.”
    The smile on Fatima’s face disappeared as quickly as it had formed. “Oh, yes. There is no escape from the Claw. It is he who holds us. It is here we will die.”
    The words froze Brigit’s blood. The Claw? Just the name conjured images of a slasher jumping from the shadows on a Halloween night, just like in horror films. One thing was for sure, Claw or not, she had no intention of dying in some dungeon, a prisoner of men with values culled from the Middle Ages.
    “How did you end up here?” she asked Fatima.
    “In New York I had a boyfriend. We loved each other and planned to marry, so I slept with him. When I returned home for a visit and my parents found out, my mother wanted to kill me.”
    Brigit tried to be polite, but her mouth dropped open. “No way.”
    “I was impure,” the girl explained.
    “This impure thing has got to go.”
    “My father stopped her, saying if they sold me, they would at least make a little money off my sin.”
    Her impassionate expression shocked Brigit as much as the words. Then she detected a deep sadness in Fatima’s eyes. “Your parents sold you to the people here? I can’t believe it.”
    “It is not uncommon.” The girl shrugged. “The worst thing is, I never had a chance to say goodbye to my lover. He must think I deserted him. I suppose, in a way, I have.”
    “How did your parents find out about the two of you? I can’t imagine you told them, knowing what their reaction would be.”
    “My mother found a letter from Tommy.” Staring into space, the girl fell silent.
    Brigit left her to her memories. She had enough to think about with her own situation. How in hell would she ever get out of this? She knew her family would try to find her, but everything they knew was a lie.
Crap, I need to keep my wits about me.
    “Listen, Fatima, have you tried to escape? I mean, has anyone?”
    Fatima shook her head. “If you found your way out of the building, where would you go? A large staff of men is employed within the compound. Outside, too. If you get past them, you face the mountains, rough and high. Even in summer, the temperatures drop at night. We have no clothing but this.” The girl indicated what she wore, including flimsy sock-type slippers. They would give as much protection against rocks as the light material would against cold. Which was to say, none at all. And, of course, the trip up had shown her how isolated they were.
    “So, what is life like here? What do we do?”
    “We are whores. We service whomever we are told. If we are obedient and maintain our beauty, we remain in the elite house, where men pay much money to use our bodies. We do not receive money, of course.” She smiled rather apologetically. “But if we cause trouble or when we age, we are sent below to service the employees. I have heard tales. Women do not live long once they go below.” She shuddered in the telling.
    “What if we don’t do what they tell us?”
    “We are punished.”
    “I can stand a beating or two,” Brigit said boldly.
    “Perhaps. But when girls first arrive, they are given a mentor. I am yours. If you refuse to obey, they will