#Lost Read online

  #Lost

  #NorthStarPrequel #Freedom

  Taylor Hart

  Jo Schneider

  Heather Horrocks

  ArchStone Ink

  Contents

  #3WomenOnAMission

  Praise

  Foreword

  1. Cyrus

  2. Cyrus

  3. Marcella

  4. Cyrus

  5. Marcella

  6. Cyrus

  7. Marcella

  8. Cyrus

  9. Marcella

  10. Cyrus

  11. Marcella

  12. Cyrus

  13. Cyrus

  All Books in the North Star to Freedom Series

  #Seen ~ Book 1 ~ Excerpt of the Next Book in the Series

  #Lured ~ Book 2

  #Caged ~ Book 3

  Notes from the Three Authors

  About the Author ~ Taylor Hart

  About the Author ~ Jo Schneider

  About the Author ~ Heather Horrocks

  Acknowledgments

  Rights & Copyrights

  Ways You Can Help Stop Sex Trafficking

  Donation of Profits

  Dedicated

  To all endangered children.

  And to all those who rescue them.

  #3WomenOnAMission

  Taylor Hart, Jo Schneider, and Heather Horrocks are #3WomenOnAMission, using their ninja author skills to write knock-your-socks-off cautionary tales to help teens recognize the tools predators use and to save #JustOneChild.

  Praise

  Praise for the North Star to Freedom Series

  “This is a book that all parents and young girls need to read.”

  “This book was amazing. I cried. If you ever print this one, Heather, I want copies. Lots of them. I want to make my daughter read this. She is turning 11 in a couple of months and keeps begging for a cell phone. I keep refusing. I want her to understand why.”

  —Katherine Ward

  “Taylor weaves a masterful story about contemporary problems teens face everyday. I love how she took a cheerleader and had her lose her spot on the cheer team, lose her boyfriend, and face the mean girls—all at once! Masterful!”

  —Joan Anderson

  “Heather, this piece was so moving. It was different from your normal works but in a great way. You kept the warmth in your normal books but realness of pain, PTSD, and human trafficking added depth to each of these characters. I felt like it addressed a very serious and terrifying issue in a non-threatening way. I could not put it down.”

  —Desiree Taggard

  “Oh my gosh, I just don't even know what else to say. I think you did a great job on this book. It's well-written, and the plot is logical, with likeable characters (except for [the bad guy] and his baddy buddies, obviously). This left me wanting to know more about Autumn's story, and I love that she got a black belt in karate and was able to take a big step toward confronting her demons. I also love that even though Destiny had to suffer before she was rescued, she also grew stronger and braver and more ready to face her own mistakes. You just did something amazing and brave.”

  —Heidi Nielsen

  Foreword

  Cammy Bowker

  Global E.P.

  Global Education Philanthropists

  August 19, 2019

  Since starting an international humanitarian aid organization a few years ago, I’ve noticed an unexpected thing, communities worldwide have a connection to an unspoken monster—child sex trafficking. This includes communities here in the United States.

  As I served in Caribbean villages, I couldn’t help but be forever changed by the women and children I met who had been affected by human trafficking. So many children sold. So many children without parents. So many vulnerable people. All because they lacked education.

  Returning to the U.S., to my “safe” neighborhood, I found myself unable to put the beautiful faces of the survivors out of my mind, even though they were thousands of miles away.

  I didn’t realize how much child sex trafficking went on in my own country until, one day, I met a victim in my own neighborhood. Someone who needed my help.

  Almost overnight, my voicemail and messaging inboxes filled up daily with messages from survivors, victims, and advocates —all reaching out to me for help and for hope.

  I determined that, if there was anything I could do about it, no one would ever hurt them or their families again.

  I knew if I was going to do this right, I had to learn more—had to do more. I needed to get educated and trained for the fight. So I did. I am now a trained rescue operator. (Thank you, Adaptive Ops!) The people in my organization and I will not stop looking for missing kids. Ever. Worldwide.

  I started providing education and real hands-on aid directly to those in need. Aid to aftercare centers/safe houses. My organization offers vocational training so survivors can have a fighting chance of staying out of trafficking. We provide outreach missions that require staring this monster in the eye, seeing traffickers sell children for money. As I mentioned, this is happening all right here within the U.S. Under society’s nose.

  Most people have no idea what human trafficking actually looks like here on American soil or beyond. Yet there is more slavery today than ever in the history of the human race.

  Why has trafficking become such a plague?

  Because human trafficking makes much more money than drug trafficking.

  Because far too many American men—who are the #1 consumer of child sex, whether purchased domestically or abroad—think pornography is a victimless crime—but there are millions of victims.

  Because porn never stands still. It always requires more—more violence, younger victims, more perversion.

  Because our children, grandchildren, and neighbors are extremely vulnerable to the sophisticated technology and practices used by trafficking rings.

  Because traffickers groom potential victims from all walks of life through online measures every day.

  Because we hand our kids electronic devices and online video games, not knowing that we’re making our own children prey to vicious predators. It’s staggering to know that eighty percent of missing children were first “friended” by someone through an online game or message. Eighty percent. Let that fact sink in. Eighty percent of missing children were enticed by someone on an electronic device that their parents gave them.

  My hope is that this book series—written by the talented Taylor Hart, Jo Schneider, and Heather Horrocks—will help preserve families, communities, and future generations.

  Our youth need to know the danger is real. Parents need to know it’s real and happening in their communities. These stories bring trafficking scenarios into relatable light, to help all of us see how easily those we love could fall prey to such an unimaginably heinous crime. How easily many do fall prey.

  Forty million people, including children, are enslaved today. Yet here many of us sit, in the United States, not knowing that human trafficking is just as bad here as in foreign countries.

  When I learned more, I began to do more. Now you’ll know more, too, and I hope you’ll also choose to do more. We need you. This fight needs you. These children need you. We need an army of people willing to fight to save children from harm.

  I want you. I need your help! Please join my organization in the fight, go to www.globalep.org and be a financial partner. We rely on donations for teams to extract victims, to provide vocational trade tuition, to keep survivors safe, and to support safehouses/aftercare facilities.

  866-589-HOPE

  Cammy Bowker

  Chapter 1

  Cyrus

  Present Day

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Cyrus Black, billionaire owner of
the largest data mining company in the world and ultimate business success story of the decade, stood atop the balcony of his Paris home and tried to stop his hand from shaking.

  Business success was overrated.

  He teetered between drinking the shot of whiskey and just letting go of the handrail altogether and free falling down fifteen flights into the Seine River below.

  To quiet.

  To darkness.

  To relief.

  He forced his eyes open and stared at the moonlight shimmering across the amber liquid in his glass. Too bad he didn’t believe in relief. He didn’t deserve relief.

  It had been one year. Exactly.

  Tonight was the one-year anniversary of losing her. The light of his life.

  His daughter.

  He reached out a trembling hand to touch the beautiful, buttery yellow Michelangelo roses that were his daughter’s favorite. He’d bought them today to honor her. And possibly to torture himself.

  They were as bright and sunny as Marcella herself.

  Marcella. The only person he had let himself be bright and sunny for was gone.

  And it was his fault. All his fault. Everything.

  Just ask his ex.

  Again, his focus came back to the alcohol and he ached to drink it. It would be warm and it would burn the back of his throat and it would make him feel … something.

  And it would blow his ten-year sobriety, but what did that matter?

  He gripped the glass harder and cursed, then finally he chucked it as hard as he could through the air. He waited, half expecting to hear it hit something but … no. There was nothing.

  Nothing. That seemed to be the theme of his life.

  His phone buzzed and he hesitated, knowing who it would be and not wanting to speak to him.

  It kept buzzing and he ripped it out of his pocket.

  The text read, ‘Don’t do anything stupid. I’m coming.’

  Cyrus snorted. “Of course you are.”

  Captain Jace Walker. Or Cap, as he preferred to be called.

  The man he’d hired to help him kick in doors and chase down leads to find Marcella. The man had a sixth sense about things; some might call it divine inspiration.

  Too bad it hadn’t helped find his daughter.

  Cyrus shook his head. “A bit too late, Cap, don’t ya think?” He thought about how he’d paid the man a ridiculous amount of money to quit Homeland Security and come work exclusively for him.

  Too bad the investment hadn’t paid off.

  He squeezed the railing harder, so hard it felt like it should have broken. As he swore, traitorous tears pushed down his cheeks. “Marcella,” he whispered, wishing he could erase time. Wishing he could hold her again. Protect her. Never let her out of his sight.

  She would be sixteen now. He’d failed.

  A knock came at the door.

  Cyrus didn’t bother to answer, and wasn’t surprised when Cap let himself in. Soft footsteps approached him. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Cyrus muttered.

  “Glad to see you didn’t do anything stupid.”

  “Wanted to.”

  Cap came up and stood next to Cyrus, eyeing the river below. “How stupid were you thinking?”

  “You don’t want to know.” In the past year the men had become good friends, but each time Cyrus talked to Cap he was reminded that he had failed. That his daughter still wasn’t home.

  Cap leaned his elbows on the railing and stared out across the Paris skyline. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Do I dare ask?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “About Marcella?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Cyrus turned to look at his friend. “Then what?” What else could the man be thinking about?

  Cap gave him a sad smile. “You’ve invented ground-breaking ways to track online predators.”

  “Which have been no help at all in finding my daughter.” Cyrus let the bitterness in his voice drip from his words.

  “But what about others?”

  “Others?”

  Cap looked across the river again. “Yeah. There are plenty of kids who get taken by these … these…”

  “I know.” Cyrus swallowed, once again wishing he could do horrible things to the man who had deceived his daughter.

  “Have you ever thought about helping them?” Cap asked.

  Helping them? How could he, when he couldn’t even help his own little girl?

  Another tear followed the stream already on his cheek, and he let his mind descend into the memories of that night one year ago.

  Chapter 2

  Cyrus

  One Year Earlier

  It was supposed to be time together as a family. The one thing Marcella had wanted after the divorce of her parents—a month in Paris together.

  The month he and his ex used to set aside each year.

  Marcella had begged, pleaded, and made them swear they would meet at the Paris house together, as a family, when the dust finally settled on the divorce.

  Surprisingly, Anna had agreed to it.

  It had shocked him so badly, that his former wife would agree to their daughter’s request. After all, Anna had been the one who filed for the divorce, complaining he worked all the time.

  The stupid thing was—her agreement had given him hope. Hope that he could somehow win his wife back. Hope that he could somehow make his family whole again. Hope that his daughter would grow up and remember them together, not apart.

  He had been rushing out of the airport to meet Anna and Marcella at the Paris home when he’d gotten an emergency call from his new Director of Operations. There had been a complete system failure and they needed him.

  So, instead of heading straight home, he’d diverted to a Starbucks just outside of the airport where he’d spent an hour troubleshooting the problem over the phone.

  Chapter 3

  Marcella

  “When is dad coming?” Marcella Black asked her mom, knowing deep down that he would be late. He was always late.

  “He said he’s landed. He should be here in twenty minutes.” Her mother looked up from her phone with a rubbery smile. “He’s coming, sweetie. He promised, and it’s going to be great. He’s usually late, but he does show up.” Under her breath, she muttered, “Eventually.”

  Marcella noted that her mother wore a casual, red summer dress. She’d also put on extra makeup and done her long brown hair into a fancy French twist.

  “You look good, Mom,” she said, wary of her mother’s drastic mood swings since the divorce. “I know he’ll be here.”

  Her mother blinked, then walked to the piano and sat, softly playing Beethoven’s Fifth. “He says he has your birthday present. It will be great. After all, it’s not every year you turn fifteen.”

  Her mother always played the piano when she was nervous. It distracted her and calmed her nerves.

  The past year, it had been almost incessant. To the point where Marcella wanted to tell her to just stop!

  Good thing Marcella had her favorite distraction, too.

  She tapped on Instagram and went to her DMs. She grinned when she saw four new ones.

  ‘Hey beautiful, are you here?’

  ‘R we meeting at the Tower or what?’

  ‘Ditch your parents and meet me!’

  ‘Come on, sweetheart, you know you want to.’

  Nervous anticipation wove into her stomach and she giggled. Just thinking about the handsome, college-aged Englishman with the cool accent made her laugh.

  She’d met him in person once. Last year. At the coffee shop near the Eiffel Tower.

  Her parents had been fighting again and she’d snuck out to just … get away. The coffee shop had been boring and she’d been playing a game on her phone when he’d sat down next to her.

  At first, his being so forward had put her on edge, but then he’d started talking to her and telling her about how his family was new to Paris. Marcella had liked his British accent
and his dark brown skin and deep chocolate eyes. He was gorgeous. He asked her if she was new to Paris and then asked if she wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower with him.

  The guy looked older, maybe college aged, and she’d been so confused. She was tempted to go, but her parents had warned her about strangers. Even handsome ones. “I don’t think my parents would want me to go.”

  He’d grinned at her, his teeth white, and he’d leaned close to her, smelling of cinnamon. “How old are you, sweetheart?”

  Her heart raced so fast—she could barely believe this guy was talking to her. She swallowed. “I just turned fourteen.”

  Somehow his smile grew wider. “Fourteen?” His accent was so intoxicating. He cocked an eyebrow and gently reached out, tracing her cheek. “I would have pegged you for seventeen, easy.”

  Marcella froze at the touch. People back home didn’t do this stuff, but she was in Paris. Warmth filled her along with all kinds of excited jitters. She giggled.

  He pulled back, putting his hand to his chest. “Am I funny?”

  The accent, again, made everything he was saying hilarious. “No.”

  He laughed, too. “That’s okay, sweetheart, you can laugh at me. If you come show me around. Like I said, I’m new. What about you?”