My Name Is Sadie

MY NAME IS SADIE

DL Reed

Copyright © 2017 DL Reed

Smashwords Edition

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All characters in this book are entirely imaginary and any resemblance to persons living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.

Part One

The Abduction

Prologue

It started out innocent enough, I tell her, thinking that maybe I wasn’t such a stupid little girl. Stupid. Naïve. Totally clueless.

It was just supposed to be a date, I said, looking into the ferocious eyes of the woman. She wasn’t overly beautiful, but pretty enough that I supposed that men looked at her. She was dressed nicely, too, in an expensive beige suit and white blouse. Her blonde hair had been swept up into a bun on the top of her head. Not a messy bun, either, like my friends and I had attempted in the warmer months. That casual bun that was supposed to look like you’d just quickly put your hair up when in all actuality, it took, like hours.

And it was supposed to be sophisticated and fancy. Boys were supposed to think you were cute or hot or something.

I shivered at the thought of a boy.

Are you cold? the pretty woman asked, her fiery eyes turning gentle.

I shook my head. I just wanted to get this over with so that I could try to figure out what to do next.

I know you talked to the police, but I really need you to continue being brave and tell me the entire story. Do you think you can do that?

I hated that she was talking to me like I was a little kid or something. I wasn’t. Never would be again.

But her voice was warm and kind. It was different than the voices I’d grown used to in the past six weeks.

I nodded at her as I stared at the water bottle leaving damaging rings on the gleaming table. Everything looked expensive here. The furniture, the coffee pot, the platter of cookies, even the mini blinds blocking the early morning sun from the conference room.

Back home our furniture was old – worn down by life. The floors were permanently scarred from gym shoes and high heels and baby walkers. Too many feet in a tiny house.

But I missed it. I missed the school portraits that hung crookedly on the living room walls; no matter how many times Mom straightened them. I missed the fingerprints and smudges on the TV screen. I missed the cookie crumbs and popcorn kernels beneath the couch cushions.

Sadie, are you with me?

I looked up into those brown eyes, feeling her urgency but sensing her patience. This woman knew my story wasn’t going to be pretty and her job wasn’t going to be easy. But she was here with me right now. She believed me.

And she wanted to make somebody pay.

I liked that. A lot.

It was just supposed to be a date, I said, running my fingernail through the water rings.

A date, she repeated.

I nodded. Only, my mom said I was still too young to date. So, I just told her that I was going to meet some friends at the mall. I was going to take the bus because she was so busy with the twins.

Okay, the woman – Miss Pryce – said, jotting down notes even though a video camera was recording our every word and every move. Positioned at one end of the table on a tripod, I was aware of its ugly eye leering at me, eager to hear all the disgusting details of my horrid experience.

Don’t worry about the camera, honey, Miss Pryce crooned. It’s just there so that I can have your entire story recorded so that I can go through it later and make sure I have all the details right.

I already knew that. She’d explained it earlier. I really didn’t care, either. Sooner or later everyone would find out and people would either smother me with sympathy or sneer at me with doubt. Life as I knew it – even as chaotic as it was – was over for me now.

So, you took the bus to the mall? she asked.

Yes, I said, unable to look into her eyes. I was ashamed, although the police and the victim advocate and my therapist and even Miss Pryce all told me that I had no reason to be. None of it was my fault.

But it was. I was the one who agreed to meet at the mall even though I knew my mother wouldn’t approve. I was the one who agreed to go for a ride with him in his cool Corvette. I made all the decisions. And they’d all turned out to be horribly wrong.

What happened then?

We walked around for a little bit and then he asked if I wanted to go for a ride in his car. I thought it would be fun. I’d never been in a convertible before.

It was anything but fun.

She jotted things down, words I couldn’t make out from my side of the table. My eyes still had trouble adjusting after spending all that time in the dark.

Tapping her pen on the paper, she peered at me, her mouth scrunched to the side like she was thinking really hard.

You met this guy on the internet?

Yes, I said, dropping my gaze. On a discussion board type thing. It wasn’t Facebook or anything like that – it was a site for people like me to talk about problems they had at home.

I cringed a bit, hating that it sounded like I was abused or something. I really wasn’t. But, after my mom married Raymond and we moved into his house with his sons, things got hectic. Mom ended up pregnant and gave birth to twin boys and suddenly, every day was chaos.

Did you have problems at home? she asked in a hushed tone, like she didn’t want anyone to hear. I wasn’t entirely stupid. Although we were no longer at the police station, but at the prosecutor’s office, I figured there were people in another room somewhere, watching everything and listening to my every word.

Not really, I said with a shrug. I mean, my mom and stepdad didn’t beat me or do any bad stuff to me. I was just frustrated because my mom wouldn’t let me do stuff that my friends were doing.

Like dating? she asked.

She’d obviously somehow gotten a hold of the stuff I’d posted, including the private messages that Dante and I had shared.

Yeah, I whispered, ashamed and embarrassed now. Why couldn’t I have seen that perhaps my mom was right?

It didn’t matter much now.

Sadie, Miss Pryce said, placing her pen precisely in the center of her pad. Don’t feel bad about any of this. Just about every teenaged girl has gone through something similar. Most girls want to date at an early age but their parents won’t let them. And it’s okay that you vented your feelings.

Sure, she could say that. But she wasn’t the one who believed everything that Dante had said. She hadn’t lied to her mother and gone to the mall to meet some guy. She hadn’t let that guy talk her into going for a ride in a car.

And she hadn’t let some guy use her and then sell her to the highest bidder.

Chapter One

The bus was crowded - even for a Saturday. I ducked under the thin strap of the little purse that contained my tiny wallet (school ID and four crumbled singles), my house key, and my cell phone, crossing it over my body as I held onto the rail, not lucky enough to get a seat. As the bus lurched forward, wheezing and belching filth into the air, I concentrated only on finally meeting Dante and pushed the lies I’d told my mother into the back of my mind.

So what if I was meeting a boy at the mall? It wasn’t technically a date. We’d probably just walk around and window shop and maybe buy a Coke at the food court. What was the big deal, anyway?

My heart twittered as I thought about finally meeting him face to face. He’d been so understanding and charming online, commiserating with me on how clueless parents really were. He totally understood my frustration with my mother at how she constantly kept me from doing stuff my other friends were allowed to do. I mean, most of my friends were allowed to group date and one of them was even allowed to go on car dates, as long as the boy met the parents and didn’t sit in the driveway and honk.

But not me. I wasn’t allowed to do any sort of dating. And if I was going to meet friends somewhere, no boys had better be with us unless my mother knew them and I promised her that it wasn’t any sort of romantic thing.

Ugh. I mean, really? This wasn’t like the 1950s or anything when women had to have chaperones and stuff. Sure, girls got pregnant at my age (fourteen) but I was responsible. I didn’t want to have sex or anything. I just wanted to go to movies or something with a boy if I liked him.

Dante totally understood where I was coming from. Although he was sixteen and had been dating for a while, his parents just didn’t get him, either. He’d told me plenty of times about how they just didn’t understand. How they’d go about their lives and just give him gifts or money or something to make up for not doing more stuff with him.

And he was just so cute!

The pictures he’d sent were adorable! His blond, wavy hair and dimpled smile. Blue eyes to die for!

I got the impression that his family had money, too. But that didn’t matter. I didn’t care about that. I didn’t even care (much) about how cute he was.

He got me!

He understood the crap I was going through. My friends said that they did, too, but I didn’t really believe them. I mean, they’d give me sad smiles and hugs and stuff, but then they’d run off to do things that my mom wouldn’t let me do.

It wasn’t like I was asking to go to parties where there was beer and pot or anything. I didn’t want to attend an orgy.

I just wanted to go on a date!

Justin, who was extremely cute and nice and sweet and smart, asked me about three months ago if I wanted to go to a movie with him. He said his mom would take us if my mom could pick us up. All day at school I’d been so excited! Happy! When I go home I told my mom all about it, my smile hurting my cheeks. I thought she’d be excited for me and we’d sit in the kitchen talking about everything Justin.

But, no.

Nope.

She sat me down all right, but told me that I was still too young to date.

I mean, really? It was just the movies and it was parents taking and picking us up. Mom did that all the time when I went with my friends.

Furious, that’s what I’d been. I remember not talking to her for days. It hadn’t worked because she never did budge.

That night was the first night I’d posted in the What Pisses You Off forum.

And that was the night that I’d met Dante.

I smiled as the bus stopped and started, picking up people and dropping off others. The mall was only a few stops away and how I wished I could check my hair and makeup, but there was no bathroom. Maybe I could steal away to the restrooms at the mall before meeting Dante. I wanted everything to be perfect.

When the bus finally stopped in front of the mall, my heart thrummed as my pulse raced through my veins. I really hoped that Dante wouldn’t be disappointed when he finally met me. I was no super model by any means, but I didn’t think that I was totally ugly. My skin was smooth with no trace of acne and my hair was a pretty dark blonde color that had never been dyed. My eyes were green like my mom’s and I had a slim build. My chest hadn’t developed a whole lot yet, although I could fill an A cup – probably close to reaching B cup status any day.

I headed straight for the restrooms and stood in front of the mirror, urging my body to calm down and my hands to stop shaking. I studied my appearance – the little bit of makeup my mom permitted was still okay and my hair – straightened today without the need for a messy bun – looked pretty good. My confidence emerged but didn’t take over quite yet.

I checked the time on my phone before leaving the restroom and strolled in what I hoped was a casual manner toward the food court.

Scintillating spices wafted from the Pizza Shack as well as greasy fries and burgers. My stomach gave a bit of a rumble but there was no way I could eat anything – not even a warm, soft pretzel with large bits of salt and a cup of hot cheese.

Shifting from foot to foot, I scanned the occupants of the food court, looking for that familiar wavy hair. Not seeing it, I bought a Coke and sat at an empty table almost in the center of the dining area. As nonchalantly as possible, I pulled out my phone and checked all my social media accounts, acting as if I was totally engrossed in that task. The entire time, though, my eyes were peeking out between my eyelashes, checking every passerby, hoping that he really would show and not stand me up.

A bit of fear jolted my heart as I thought about those TV shows which featured people who met others