Chapter Text
Rey knew something was going on the second she left her bedroom. She’d been deep in her calculus homework for hours at that point, stuck on the second to last problem, frustrated and overwhelmed. She’d rushed home after school, running from the front door to her bedroom, hoping to avoid Unkar Plutt. If he caught her, he’d definitely push her into doing some bullshit like tearing apart another desktop for parts or repairing the old Mercedes-Benz he kept in his overpacked garage. She didn’t have time to do his dirty work for him, not that week, with the holiday finals approaching in two weeks - she was behind in her best subject, had a lab to work up, and still had a paper to write for her english literature class. She wasn’t trying to be valedictorian or anything, but to get scholarships, she knew her grades had to be decent.
To escape Plutt, she needed a scholarship to cover most of her expenses. Housing, meal plans, classes….
She shut her bedroom door as quietly as she could, wincing at the creaking, and stood at the top of the landing, listening for her obese guardian. He rarely came to the second floor, her little loft at the top of the narrow, steep staircase too rough a trek for his old knee injury. Typically, if he wanted her, he’d just shout from the bottom.
But it was mostly silent, aside from hushed sounds from the living room. Rey figured, as her stomach cramped painfully with hunger, that Unkar must have fallen asleep in front of the television again, with the volume lowered, weirdly enough. If she was careful, she could creep around him and grab something light, and head back upstairs before he woke up in a drunken stupor. She had mostly recovered from the last time she’d woken him up by accident, her thigh still sporting the yellow brown of his fist as she fled back to her sanctuary. The lack of sound, however, set her nerves on edge. Normally, the television was screaming with some documentary, or pornography, but the whispers were unusual. Plutt was half deaf, as he so often complained about. The break in the routine set her nerves on edge, not to mention she couldn’t hide the sounds the floor made as easily.
She still wore her school attire; an oversized beige shirt with the school logo printed on the back, light wash skinny jeans rolled at her ankles, and worn, dirty off-brand Vans she’d thrifted last year. Her hair, dirty from three days with no wash, was thrown up in a messy bun wrapped in her “lucky” pink scrunchie she’d gotten from Rose. The carpet on the stairs was filthy, covered in years of various fluids and messes, but it was silent under her cautious steps. She knew where to put pressure, and where to ghost, over the ancient wood.
She made it to the bottom of the stairs with minimal creaking and let out a shallow breath she’d been holding, thinking about lifting a jar of peanut butter from the store next time she was there, when she passed the living room and froze.
Unkar wasn’t asleep. Instead, he was sitting with his arms bent behind his back, looking painfully stretched. His face was purple with rage, a look she’d seen many times, and his neck had veins popping. Under the large trucker hat was a nasty cut, leaking drops of blood onto his yellowed shirt. He was panting, aggressively, when she walked past, and his attention snapped to her. She could almost tell the pity in his eyes that she’d come downstairs.
Several pairs of eyes landed on her.
In the living room, in her house, were several different men wearing suits. Some stood next to the loveseat Plutt was placed on, some were leaning against the walls, and two stood on either side of Plutt’s precious Lazy-Boy. The man in the chair turned and looked at Rey.
“Who is this?” The voice was deep, but it matched his face. Dark hair, slicked back, with equally dark eyes that bore into hers. His hands, large, all of him large, really , were clasped together, his index fingers pressed to his lush lips. He wore a suit, more casual, no tie like the others in the room, with the top two buttons undone to reveal the pale skin under his throat. His legs were parted, his elbows resting on his knees, a stance of a man who knows and holds power.
Rey knew that she was fucked as soon as his eyes moved over her body, from her bun down to her ratty shoes, and back up to her face, which was quickly draining of color.
“Tha’s my nieth.” Plutt spat, blood dripping from his lips as he spoke. Rey could see his front tooth had been busted out. “Ma's sisterth kid, Rey.”
“Ah, such a lovely young woman.” The man dropped his hands and raked his eyes over her again. Rey wanted nothing more than to bring her arms up and cross them, but she was frozen to the spot, shivering under his gaze. Her throat was dry, aching, with her ability to speak robbed of her by those dark, soulful eyes. “She must have received her looks from her father’s family. I bet your sister looked as much like a bloated cow as you do.”
Rey would have felt insulted, if her parents hadn’t loved heroin more than her. They’d died with needles in their arms and left her to fend for herself in that apartment until the flies had alerted the downstairs neighbor four days later. With Unkar being her only living relative, she’d been sent to him with a monthly government stipend - probably the only reason he’d kept her - when she was six.
“Fuck yeh.” Plutt mumbled. The man raised his index finger, and one of the suited men reared back and punched Plutt across the face. Blood spittled out as he tried to turn his head back, groaning with pain.
“I’ve mentioned your manners before.” The man turned his eyes from Rey and back to Plutt. “I won’t do so again.” Plutt huffed a sigh and nodded.
“How ca’ we fix thith?” Plutt asked, his eyes pointed down to the coffee table. Rey followed his eyes and felt her spine go cold at the pistol laying there, extended on the tip with a silencer. It looked odd among the scattered pills, open medication bottles, and crushed beer cans that littered the little table. It was too shiny, too new, and definitely too big for Unkar’s meaty fingers to grip.
“You owe me quite a bit of money, Unkar. Four hundred thousand, to be precise, when rounded up. And I think rounding up is appropriate, considering everything you’ve put me through.” The man leaned back in the chair. Rey listened to it creak as his weight was redistributed. He moved to rest his ankle over his knee, large hands grabbing the bent leg.
Rey didn’t know if she should move or stay put, but she didn’t think she could walk if she tried. Her legs, numb, wouldn’t cooperate with her brain screaming at her to move, just fucking move . It processed then, what the man was saying to her uncle. Four hundred thousand in debt? She knew Plutt had come into money to open his front business body shop that she occasionally repaired cars in, but she didn’t think he’d gone to a gang to borrow it.
How dumb was her uncle?
Unkar shifted on the loveseat, the cushions squeaking in protest, as he tried to adjust his weight. His arms, folded behind his back, must have been cuffed, Rey surmised, because he wouldn’t have been able to hold them there for that long on his own. Sweat beaded at her hairline in the warmth of the room. They didn’t have central air, and the only working units were in the bedrooms. The amount of people in the small room with all the lights on definitely raised the temperature to a near uncomfortable degree.
Her lip quivered as Plutt looked at her. His eyes, no longer laced with pity, instead were full of determination. She felt her mouth curl into a line and her brows tighten together.
No, you fat fucking asshole, please for once be good to me….
“Sheth a virgin.” He announced. The man turned to look back at Rey, as did a few of the other men in the room. “You ca’ haff her for’a night or two. All of yeh.” Her face exploded in color as tears beaded in her eyes. She felt her chest tighten as she tried not to let the tears fall. Her fists, instead, clenched tightly, her nails digging into the meat of her palms. Without being able to control it, her lower lip trembled with rage.
“You can’t know that she is.” The man said after a moment, watching her reaction. He turned back to her uncle. “But I do have an interesting proposition for you, Mr. Plutt. I’ll go ahead and bring the total down to one hundred thousand, and I’ll give you a month to get me the money.”
“Than’ yeh!” Plutt said, his face relaxing into obvious relief. “Yeh wan’t be diffapointed, Mr. Ren.”
“I’m sure I will be, in the end.” He paused with a smirk. “With you, that is.”
Rey felt her face screw up as she tried to hold back her tears. Her shitbag uncle, her only living relative, willing to sell her off to this gang member - who was probably riddled with STDs, she thought aggressively - to pay his debts down. She knew he wouldn’t be able to build up that money in a month, and no doubt, this man would be back for more of her, or worse…for his payment in blood.
A tear tracked down her cheek, hot against her blushing face.
“Grab her.” The man said. She hadn’t even registered what he had said before the two men at his side were reaching for her. Instinct kicked in, years of abuse making her hard, and she screamed. A hand covered her face as arms wrapped around her waist. She was lifted and she kicked backwards, taking satisfaction in the grunt of pain she heard. She opened her mouth - ew, ew, fucking ew - and bit down until she could taste blood. The hand didn’t pull away, even with the loud swearing she heard, and she kicked again. There was too much movement for her to focus on much, but the two managed to wrangle her in place. She was a head and a half shorter than all the men, aside from her uncle, and she knew that escaping would prove impossible. One of the men pulled a piece of fabric tightly over her mouth.
Her body was aching with the sudden burst of movement after hours of sitting on her bedroom floor, and her mouth was full of someone else’s blood. She started to cry as the man stood, buttoning his suit jacket. He picked up the gun and held it in his large hand, pointing at the floor. He reached out and brushed loose hair from her damp cheek. She tried to move away, but the hands on her were tight and strong. He took a few steps in her direction until he was in front of her, looking at her with interest. He was handsome, but fear inspiring. His nose was crooked, face dotted with moles, skin smooth and pale - beautiful, but terrifyingly intense. A long, jagged scar bisected his eyebrow down to his cheek, long healed but still marring his features in a way that told a story.
He was a dangerous man.
The eye contact was nearly unbearable, his intense look tightening the muscles in her stomach. If she’d had anything down, she’d have thrown up all over herself. Her arms had been pinned behind her back, but she couldn’t find any fight left inside her as the adrenalin ran cold. Cold metal appeared on her wrists, clicking in place, and Rey started to struggle again. She didn’t want to be handcuffed. She couldn’t pick them if they were behind her back.
“Darling, you have a good fight in you.” He said. “I’ll enjoy the break.”
He turned slightly, and raised the pistol, pointing it at Unkar. Rey screamed as it fired, the silencer keeping it manageable. She choked on her sobs, trying to tamper them down while trying to still breathe through the cloth, as the men positioned her to her knees.
Plutt’s arm began to weep blood from the shot. He was screaming, kicking his fat legs, trying to roll over and free himself from the cuffs but unable to. The men leaning on the wall began to trash the room, throwing worthless objects around, tearing random photos that hung on the stained walls. The two holding Rey started to walk out of the room, dragging her along, and the man with the gun followed them. Rey felt the sobs in her chest, heavy and hard, as they pulled her out of her house and into the early evening air. She was drug behind them like dirty laundry, her jeans collecting dirt as she was pulled along.
It wasn’t much, the little shanty they lived in, but it had been safe. Or so she thought.
Her mistake.
The black SUV was parked in front, with two black sedans parked on either side. Rey knew, in their neighborhood, that nobody would come outside if they heard the commotion. They’d shut their windows if they peaked out and saw the cars.
It was much worse than Rey realized.
These were First Order Mafia vehicles.
She was so going to die.
The cuffs were removed while her fabric gag was pulled away and she was shoved inside the car door as soon as it opened. Her knees hit the backseat floorboard hard enough to send pain radiating up her thighs. She groaned as her face smacked against the seats, leaving her face to rest on the leather. With her mouth free, she spat a bloody glob on the floor. The door slammed behind her and the one in front of her opened. She couldn’t imagine she looked entirely grateful as the man - Mr. Ren - climbed into the vehicle next to her. He must have given his pistol to someone else, because his hands were empty. The door shut behind him and two men jumped in the front seats.
“I can sedate her if you need me to, sir.” The man in the front turned around with a capped needle and she scrambled up, slamming her head into the ceiling.
“That won’t be necessary. You’ll be good, right?” He turned his eyes on her. She nodded, her neck screaming painfully at the sudden movement and she sat down with more force than necessary, her hands up by her shoulders in surrender. The henchman shrugged and turned back around. Mr. Ren rolled his neck with a groan as the car pulled away from the curb, taking his phone out of his suit pocket and unlocking it with a chime. There was no music in the car, just the two men in front driving and Mr. Ren next to her. She trembled, her hands moving to grasp at her bruising knees, her chest heaving with panicked breathing. Her stomach started to roll in nausea at the sound of her heartbeat rushing in her ears. Black spots crept on the precipice of her vision, but she refused to pass out. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard, forcing herself to calm down.
She couldn’t quite stop the trembling in her fingers.
“Where are we going?” She whispered. Mr. Ren looked up from his phone at her.
“Back to my place.” He said, looking outside. The scenery passed too fast for Rey to take it in. She wasn’t sure which direction they were headed. She wasn’t sure she could remember where they were going, even if she did recognize the streets.
“I don’t want to.” Rey said. He chuckled at her and locked the phone. He took his time tucking it back in the pocket inside his suit jacket before looking back at her.
“You are aware of what just happened, yes?” He asked her. She nodded slowly. “So then you know what your shitty uncle sold you for. I plan to collect.”
“I’m…not a virgin.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, other than to discourage him. “You seemed excited about that. I’m not. So, there’s nothing for you to collect. Also, I have gonorrhea. Raging. A flare up, right now, actually.”
His smirk grew as he watched her fumble for excuses through her word vomit.
“I don’t believe that for a moment, kitten.” He looked out the window and cleared his throat. “Tell Kaydel I’d like steak and eggs for breakfast, please. And tell her to prepare a charcuterie board for my arrival. I’m thinking red tonight would suffice.” The man in the passenger seat put his phone to his ear and relayed the message after a moment.
Rey gripped her jeans. He must have been important, to have all these men at his disposal. He’d purchased her, for her virgining, which she unfortunately hadn’t lost at that point - fucking Poe - and she was going to miss turning in her lab tomorrow. With her fucked up priorities, she wasn’t exactly sure which upset her more.
“Shit, look, mister…. I’ve got a lab due tomorrow. Can we just…reschedule?” She bit her lower lip anxiously. “I’ve been behind in chem and I worked really hard on it. If I don’t turn it in, I could miss the chance for a scholarship-”
“No.” He said. “Call me Kylo.”
“Please, Kylo?” She asked softly. “I worked so hard, and Poe and Rose had to help me, and I had to give them the answers to the calc homework for it.”
“No.” He said again. His jaw twitched and he clenched his fists in his lap. She wasn’t sure why she was pressing him so hard, trying to appeal to a good nature he surely didn’t have, but she couldn’t stop. It was like the words were pouring out of her mouth, even though her brain was begging her to stop.
“You don’t understand-” She started to whine, but he shot his hand out and gripped her jaw between slender fingers. Her mouth was open, his fingers like ice on her skin, pinching harder than she’d ever felt before. Tears welled in her eyes and began to spill over.
“No, you don’t understand, you little bookworm. I don’t give a fuck about your fucking project.” He pulled her face closer to him as he leaned towards her. “I plan to take what I am due. Your crocodile tears don’t bother me, either, so don’t think that’ll work.” He pushed her face away and her hands came up to her cheeks, rubbing the feeling back into them. She sniffled, turning to look out her window. They were out of the city, with large oak trees surrounding the dark road. Night had properly fallen as they’d traveled. She glanced at the center console to check the time - nearly nine - and wondered what would have happened if she had stayed in her room. Her stomach rumbled, and she brought her arms up around her waist, aching with hunger and full of fear.