In Chains (19 page)

“Yes ma’am.”

“The two rooms you just passed, they’re your sleeping quarters. Follow me.” She leads me down the hallway and points to a room on my left. There’s another thick metal door with a glass window. “The shower room,” she tells me. She points to a panel next to the door. “Put the barcode on your cuff against this panel. If you’re due a shower the door will open. If you’ve already had a shower that week, it won’t.” I glance through the window. I can only see two showers and there are no curtains. I won’t get any privacy when I shower.

At the end of the hallway there’s another metal door. The guard punches in a code, opens the door and we’re now outside in a small courtyard. There are two grey single storey buildings. She leads me towards the larger building and once again punches in a code. We enter into a big room full of people, slaves, using sewing machines. I scan the room looking for Kayden but he isn’t here. A guard sits with his feet up, reading a newspaper at a desk, at the far side of the room is another door.

She punches in the code and we enter into a small kitchen. “You’ll be working in here,” she says, “preparing meals.” I glance around. There’s only one slave here, a girl, she’s mixing up something in a bowl and doesn’t look up as we walk in. There’s a sink, cooker and a grill. There’s another door on the far side of the room, already open this time. We walk through. This room has wooden tables and benches lined up in rows. It’s currently empty. “This is where you eat,” she tells me. She leads me back into the kitchen. “Show her the ropes, she’ll be working with you,” she tells the slave girl. She leaves and the door slams shut after her. I don’t like that I’m locked in but I guess I would have had the same thing had I gone to a prison. I’ll have to get used to it.

The girl looks a lot younger than me, about sixteen I’m guessing. She has long, straight, black hair that looks like it hasn’t been washed in a while. She’s dressed in a long black skirt and a t-shirt that looks too big for her thin frame. “Hi, my name’s Savannah.”

She turns to look at me, then immediately drops her gaze to the floor. “Slave F564GH Miss.”

I reach out and grasp her hand. “Don’t call me Miss and you can look at me, I’m a slave too.”

She looks up at me from under her lashes. “But you’re human.”

“So are you.” I smile at her. “Treat me like you would any other slave. What’s your name?”

“I call myself Amy Miss.”

I let the ‘Miss’ go for now. “I’m looking for someone. A slave named Kayden. Do you know him?” My heart sinks as she shakes her head. He has to be alive. The lawyer told me they’d release him from the prison. Could he have been sent to another pound? “Is there a prison here?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Is there anyone in it?”

“No Miss.” She places some dough on an oven tray.

“What do you need me to do?”

“You can wash up if you want to Miss.” There’s a pile of tin bowls and spoons and a large stockpot. Looking at the amount of bowls there must be more slaves here than the ones I’ve seen so far. I run the hot water and begin washing up.

“Amy, there’s a lot of bowls here. Are there more slaves than the ones doing the sewing?”

She puts her dough into the oven. “Yes Miss. There are slaves working in the fields and in the laundry.” I’m filled with hope again. He may be working in one of those places.

She opens a sack of potatoes and begins peeling them. I help her make dinner. She calls it potato soup but it’s just potatoes boiled in lots of water and mashed up. She’s adding salt but I’m betting it’ll still taste bland. The fresh baked bread should be nice though. I slice the bread while she ladles the soup into the bowls. “Is there any butter to go with the bread,” I ask. She shakes her head.

I hear the door opening and the slaves from the sewing room troop through to the dining area. As that door slams I hear another one open, that should be the slaves coming in from the fields and laundry. My heart races, I’ll get to see Kayden in a few minutes. She gets out a couple of large trays and places some of the bowls on them, along with some bread.

I carry my tray through to the dining room. There must be about fifty slaves in here. They turn and stare at me as I walk in. I guess it’s going to take me a while to fit in. There’s no real difference apart from hair and eye colour but I guess they don’t see me as one of them. I scan the faces, looking for Kayden’s. He’s not here. I scan the faces again. Amy nudges me. “Put your tray on the table Miss.” I do as she says, then I run back into the kitchen.

I sink to the floor, rest my head on my arms and sob. This was all for nothing. They killed him anyway. I came here for nothing. I feel Amy sit on the floor beside me. “You’ll get used to it Miss.”

I’m still sitting on the floor as the slaves come back through the kitchen. I wipe my eyes and get up. It looks like all fifty of them are going into the sewing room. Amy must have seen my puzzled look. “They’re going into the sleeping quarters Miss.” I only saw two rooms for sleeping. That means I’m going to have to sleep in a room with at least twenty-five other people. I would have been better off in a prison, at least I might have got a cell to myself. I only came here to be with Kayden. Now I’m stuck here and he’s dead. Amy puts her arm around me. “Let’s go and eat Miss. It might make you feel better.”

She picks up a tray and I notice there are six bowls on it. “Do we get extra food because we cooked it?” I ask, nodding my head towards the bowls.

“No Miss.” She shakes her head. “Four of them are for the slaves who work in the laundry.” Wait! What! There are more slaves. My heart is thudding. Please, oh please let one of them be Kayden. My palms are sweaty. I’m scared to hope.

I follow Amy to the dining room. She puts the tray down and moves some of the dirty bowls out of the way. I can’t eat yet. My eyes are glued to the door. It opens and I hold my breath, my fingers are digging into my palms. Two guys walk in. Neither of them are Kayden. They sit down and start eating. Amy has finished her soup, she collects the dirty bowls. I know I should help her but I can’t tear my eyes away from the door. It opens again. Kayden. It’s Kayden. I leap up from the bench and run towards him. I collide with him, knocking him backwards as I fling my arms around his waist. “Oh Kayden. I love you. I love you. I’m so glad you’re not dead.” I squeeze him tight. I can feel his heart beating.

“Savannah. How did you get in here?”

I raise my head from his chest and look up at him. He’s looking at me, shock all over his face. “I told them I killed Dan. I couldn’t let them kill you. I came here instead of prison. I’m here for a year, same as you.” I kiss him on the lips. “I’ve missed you.” He’s not moving and he doesn’t look happy. Isn’t he pleased to see me?

“Are you insane? How come they let you do that? You’re not a slave.” He’s frowning at me.

“I had a good lawyer. He found an old law back from when the prisons were over-crowded. They used to let people choose between a pound or a prison. If they chose a pound they got a shorter sentence. They don’t use that law anymore but they haven’t removed it. I was able to use it.”

“Why? Why did you do that?”

My heart sinks. He doesn’t want me anymore. “Because I love you and I wanted to be with you.” I blink back my tears. I won’t cry in front of him. I let go of him and turn away. “But you don’t want me anymore. You’ve probably found someone else. That’s okay, I’m glad you’re alive.”

He grabs my arm and yanks me back towards him so hard I almost fall over. He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to him. “Of course I want you. I love you. I just don’t want you to be here. How can I look after you here? How can I keep you safe? You’re not used to living like this.”

I smile up at him. “I’ll tell you the same thing you kept telling me. It’ll be okay.”

Other books by the author:

Locked Together (In Chains #2)

About the Author

Michelle Abbott lives in the UK. She loves to write about heroes who begin as the underdog and are protective of their girl and she likes to read all genres of romance.  When she's not reading or writing she enjoys travelling and seeing new places and occasionally she picks up her knitting needles and attempts to finish the sweater she started two years ago.
Michelle Abbott lives in the UK. She loves to write about heroes who begin as the underdog and are protective of their girl and she likes to read all genres of romance. When she’s not reading or writing she enjoys travelling and seeing new places and occasionally she picks up her knitting needles and attempts to finish the sweater she started two years ago. She loves hearing from her readers and can be found online at:

Website-
http://www.michelleabbott.com/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/michelleabbott

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MichelleAbbottRomanceAuthor

Twitter-
https://twitter.com/MichelleAbbott4

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my dad, Ray, who inspired me with his love of the English language, and to my mum, Doreen, who instilled in me the belief that I could achieve my dreams.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Many thanks to my sons, Grant and Jay, my sister, Rebecca and my dear friend Michael for their help with proofreading and editing. Thanks also to my nephew, Charlie, for his help with the blurb.