by René, Dani
“How long before the girls are sold off from the warehouses?”
Mark’s head turns toward me when he hears my question. I hold my breath, praying for some reprieve. Just a small flicker of hope that will get me through this.
“About forty-eight hours usually. Unless something goes wrong and they have to wait,” comes my answer.
I’ll do anything to help Autumn, just like she saved me all those years ago. I never had many friends, not ones I could trust or even spend time with. Because they were from influential families, they were approved by my parents. But they were never buddies I could trust.
Now, all I have are Jackson and the team of Cole Security who I know will have my back. Call it intuition, but I feel safer with them than I have with anyone else I knew growing up, besides Autumn.
The underbelly of New York isn’t a beautiful place. It’s filled with liars and thieves. “Can you send through the information? I’ll head out there with the team from Cole Security. I want to be there when we find her.”
“If you find her.” His response sends icy dread racing through my veins. I don’t want to think about the alternative. Autumn will be alive, and she won’t be harmed. I repeat those words in my head as I speak to Timothy on the call. By the time I hang up, there’s an email waiting for me with an attachment. All the information in the PDF has me wanting to jump out of my chair and race for the door, but I know I need to meet with Mark and Jackson before anything can move forward.
“What’s going on?”
“I have a lead. It may not be anything, but my dad’s partner said that was the last known location of this asshole.” I glance through the file and pick out his name. “He’s in New York. The Bronx. That’s where Marlin’s main warehouse is located,” I tell them.
“Fuck,” is Mark’s shocked response, which has me snapping my gaze in question to him.
“What?” I’ve never heard the name, not that my father would talk about work at home, but I figured perhaps he’d have slipped up. Unluckily for me, my dad was far too secretive for anything like that to happen.
“We’ve found a few stories on the dark web about Marlin and his organization, but nothing is ever confirmed in any articles about him. Didn’t think he was real, to be honest,” Mark tells me. “Come on, Newb,” he calls me by a nickname they’ve given me. “Let’s get into that room with the team to talk about our next course of action.”
We move into the meeting room after I’ve printed out the info Sunderland sent me. My body is already buzzing with the need to fly to New York and find this asshole. When I do, I’m going to rip him limb from fucking limb.
* * *
The plane is filled with the team that I’ll be a part of when we find Autumn. The meeting was just a catch-up. We’ve got our orders, and we’re about to land at a private airstrip at Newark.
To say I’m nervous would be an understatement. Autumn has been gone for just over a week, and I have no way of knowing if she’s alive. If the asshole contacted me directly and asked for a ransom, I could’ve bargained to see her, just to hear her voice so this tension in my gut could ease, but no such luck.
When Mark and Jackson spoke about Christopher, I felt sick. The revulsion caused my stomach to churn. The asshole is vile, buying and selling women, girls, for his clients. His clubs are managed by people he chooses, so his name is never on any legal documents. He’s a ghost, and after hearing about what he does, I know why.
He’s been known to toy with his enemies, sending their wives, daughters, even their mothers back to them in pieces. He’s ruined so many lives, and I pray I find him because I’ll be sending him to his grave in pieces.
There are three SUVs waiting for us when we land. Each car seats four of us. And soon, we’re on our way through the city, heading toward a safehouse, which Timothy set up for us while we are here.
Not far from Brooklyn itself, we head through Long Island and stop outside a house which looks like any other house on the road. We all file out onto the sidewalk, and I move toward the door.
“We’ll find her,” Jackson tells me, his hand on my shoulder offering a squeeze. These guys have been through so much, and he seems so confident, but it doesn’t stop the anxiety from eating through me.
Stepping aside, I allow the rest of the guys to go in, but I need to talk to Jackson. “She’s everything to me,” I tell him earnestly. “I’ve never met someone who just got me. Even in her innocence, she was worldly. As if she was born an old soul.”
“When you love someone so deeply, when they’re in pain, you’ll feel it. I’m not some sappy asshole, but I know love when I see it.” I’m not sure about his backstory or what he went through, but from the ring on his finger, Jackson’s clearly found the love he’s talking about.
“It’s difficult knowing she’s out there and I can’t keep her safe.”
“When things like this happen, it shows us just how human we are. We may try to be heroes, but there are times it’s just out of our reach. Don’t blame yourself for her being gone. Focus on finding her.”
Nodding, I attempt a smile. “That’s what I’m going to do. Nothing is going to stand in my way.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Once we get a plan together, I think it’s best we stake out the place tonight, get a feel of what we’re dealing with. Then, when we know how heavily guarded it is, we can plan our attack.”
“Getting into that warehouse won’t be easy, I’m guessing?”
“No, this is one of the worst fuckers we’re dealing with. He’s eluded the feds for years. Even though he seems like a myth, I have a good feeling we’ll be taking him down very fucking soon.” Jackson’s eyes blaze with determination. I may be confident about doing this, about finding her, but deep down, self-doubt has a way of burying itself deep in my bones.
“All I can do is hope and fucking pray he hasn’t touched her,” I seethe, my jaw aching from clenching it so tightly. The thought of someone’s hands on her, of his mouth and body against hers, causes my blood to boil.
“Keep all that anger for when we get there. Focus. If you’re at all distracted on a job, it could be fatal. Even though you have a team of men behind you, remember to always have each other’s backs.”
“Thanks, Jackson. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to help.” I have a feeling they would’ve helped no matter what. They’re good guys.
“Come on. The sun is going down, and we need a plan of action.” He saunters into the house where Mark and the rest of the team are seated at a long dining room table.
The moment we’re settled, the meeting starts.
Chapter Seventeen
Autumn
We’re shoved around, slamming into each other. Each girl draped in a burlap sack. Their hair hangs loose in strings, and I wonder when the last time they saw a shower was. I’m going to be just like them. The pain in my heart makes it difficult to breathe. As if being stolen by the man who killed JD’s dad isn’t enough, I have now been put in a shipping container which is going to god-knows-where.
The hope that flickered in my stomach for so long seems to be going out, little by little, the flame overpowered by doubt. Surely my mother has figured out I’m gone. And I hope to God she doesn’t believe I would just run away. That’s not who I am, no matter what I’m going through.
If she could get a hold of JD, I know he’d come for me. Going to the police might be an option, or even his Dad’s colleagues could have information. I can only hope and pray she calls him.
I think briefly that I should’ve told my mother about Jackson Cole and Cole Security. The way JD spoke of them, I feel as if they would be able to help in a situation like this.
The loud, grating sound echoes around us, metal scraping against metal, and even in the dark, I know we’re being taken far away. We’ve been sitting in this container for a long while now. It’s so cold, my bones feel as if they’ve been frozen. But it’s the smell of wetness that seems to linger in my nostrils. The
scent of mold takes over with every movement, and as I shift against the cool metal at my back, the dankness has infiltrated my senses.
The other girls are silent, one or two sniffle and hiccup, but nobody says a word. It’s almost as if we know they can hear us. Even though I’m certain they can’t. They’re probably inside, warm, with food and drink, while we sit in here, frozen, scared and alone.
Suddenly, everything stops. Like the movie I feel I’m in has been paused, and there are no more seconds left to my fate. And even as the hinges on the door squeak, I’m not ready to face whatever is on the other side.
The doors swing open, and soon, we’re met with the dark skies that look so familiar, but the ground feels so foreign. Men in black masks with large guns shout and scream at us, shoving at our backs. We’re herded like cattle, and the tears that burn my eyes are threatening to burst.
“Go!” A loud, booming voice sounds behind us, and we walk forward, unsure of where to go, but then I see it, a large, black truck, waiting with the back doors open and men inside, more with guns, some with silver chains that look far too heavy.
We’re put inside, all fifteen of us. Chained to the floor of the truck, we’re prisoners without any way of escaping. The men who sit in the vehicle with us leer at each girl, their filthy gazes raking over us, and I can’t stop the shudder of revulsion that shoots through me.
I close my eyes, focusing on memories of a better time. Thinking about JD, I want to smile, but I bite my lip when I remember him telling me he loved me. I don’t know if he still feels that way, but the emotion that’s slowly barreling through me makes my lungs struggle to work.
Some of the girls around me start sniffling. Even though I want to bawl my eyes out, I don’t. I focus on trying to calm myself, but even so, my stomach is twisted in painful knots of anxiety.
My muscles are tense, my shoulders ache, and my body feels like it’s been through the wringer. The jerking of the truck throws us around, and each time, I find myself against one of the guards who looks down at me like I’m nothing more than an inconvenience.
Thankfully.
At least he’s not looking at me like he wants to do something obscene to me. The thought causes my throat to burn with bile.
Moments later, the truck comes to a stop, and the doors swing open once more. Glittering lights flicker from outside, and music streams from somewhere in the distance. It sounds like a nightclub.
We’re shoved out of the truck one by one, the metal chains clinking as we are shuffled in a single row toward two heavy metal gates. The music gets louder as we near them, and when they swing open, we’re met with hundreds of shiny cars. People are entering the enormous mansion which sits behind a fountain that looks like cupid shooting an arrow down at them.
Their clothing seems to sparkle under the gentle yellow lights that remind me of tiki torches. The wealth that drips from this place is nothing short of breathtaking. Granted, the house is stunning, the people are beautiful, and I wonder just what we’d be doing here.
Instead of going through the front doors, we’re ushered around the back of the house, led into a large room that looks like a changing room at a clothing store. On one side are mirrors, and opposite those, there are black railings filled with hangers of clothes.
“Get changed. There’s a bathroom through there,” one of the men tells us while pointing at the door off to the left of the room. “You’re up in twenty minutes.” His gruff voice sounds like tires on gravel. Soon, we’re alone. The cold has seeped into my veins from being on the ship and then on a truck, but now that we’re inside, my bones seem to thaw.
Pain radiates through me, reminding me that I’m being sold. Being sent away. And my lungs hurt as I struggle to breathe. And slowly, moment by moment, my fragile heart breaks, leaving a fractured part of me broken in my chest.
The men are right outside the door, chuckling and smoking. The scent of the cigars wafts through the gap under the door. The girls are shuffling around, but I close my eyes, trying to listen to their conversation.
“They don’t realize we are only a few . . .” The rest of the girls are making too much noise for me to hear the remainder of the sentence. Inching toward the door, I lean in closer, almost pressing my ear to the cool wooden surface.
“They’ll never find us here. The warehouse is nothing more than an empty piece of rank property.” The deep gravel of one of the men filters through.
“I think he’ll be here.”
“Nah, the kid’s got no balls,” Mr. Gravel says, and I have a feeling they’re talking about JD. The man who killed his dad has me, and I doubt he’ll sit back. At least, I believe he won’t. If his dad really was undercover, there will be police searching for us.
Won’t there?
Chapter Eighteen
Autumn
Two long days have passed since we arrived. The night they brought us here was uneventful. We were merely serving drinks to men and women who seemed like they were attending a party. Each couple or single man or woman would glare at us as if they had been sizing us up.
Since then, they’ve kept us in the dimly lit rooms, and even though I sleep, it’s not been restful. We haven’t been upstairs to the party venue again, and I wonder if they’re biding their time. Each time they tell us it’s "bedtime", we’re still fearful that some of the men who work here will walk into the room and do things to us.
Rolling over, I pull the sheet over my head, hoping to sleep, but my mind is racing. Each time I close my eyes, all I can see is JD. His smile, his eyes, and the way he would tell me things, just random things that would make me grin.
I think back to the last time I saw him. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the image of him in my mind is still of my best friend. The boy who stole my heart without me realizing it. He took all of me, and he gave me all of him.
Now that his father is dead, I don’t know what that means for him. What would he do? He used to tell me New York held his heart, but with Cole Security based in Virginia, he’d have to move there if he worked for them. Surely.
The door squeaks open, and my eyes snap to the guard who I’ve come to call Mr. Gravel. I don’t know his name, but he’s here every day.
“You.” He points at me. “Tonight, you’ll be coming upstairs.” He throws an outfit onto my bed, then shuts the door behind him, leaving me in shock and fear.
I scoot up, tugging the sheet along with me. Picking up the item, I look at it. This time, it’s a soft pink sundress with ballet flats bound to the wire top of the hanger, which match the material.
I’m tired, exhausted from the stress of what’s happening to us. To me. I stand, undressing in the cold room, and drag on the soft material over my head. It fits me like a glove.
Once I’m ready, we follow Mr. Gravel through a hallway that reminds me of wealth. It reeks of money, privilege, and it makes my stomach curdle.
Inside the club, it’s busier than the first night we arrived, but this time, it’s slightly different. There are no couples, and I wonder if there’s a special party or if they’ve suddenly gotten an influx of single clients.
“Behave. Or else I will break each and every one of your bones.” The gravel in his threat has a lead weight dropping in my stomach.
We’re left to our own devices, and after the first few times, I’m getting used to being in here. But I’ll never get used to the way the men look at me. Even though the dress isn’t as tight as the last few times, tonight I feel even more exposed than normal. Perhaps it’s the innocence the dress portrays that makes me uncomfortable.
A few men stop to greet me, but none of them takes me to sit or to talk. My spine tingles, and I turn to see the boss who introduced himself as Christopher when I met him, but since I’ve been here, I haven’t seen him.
He’s dressed in a white suit and a black button-up. A silver tie glints from his neck, and his shoes are shiny-black leather. Everything about him screams danger and wealth.
His gaze lands on
me within seconds, and a slow, evil smile crawls on his face. His mouth purses for a moment before he decides to make his way toward me.
“The special princess,” he remarks as he takes me in. His eyes rake their way up my curves to the neckline of my dress, which shows off my cleavage, and I want nothing more than to skulk away and hide. But if I wince or show him I’m uncomfortable, he’ll do something I’ll most probably regret.
“Hello,” I greet him, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady. There’s a darkness that follows him like a cloud, as if it knows he’s the devil and it likes him for it. He reaches out his hand, and when I don’t accept, a soft gasp comes from beside me.
“When I offer you something,” he speaks, keeping his gaze on me. “You will accept. In my home, there is no option. It is merely a yes. And I expect you to respect me.”
Tentatively, I slip my hand in his much larger one. He pulls me harshly, causing me to stumble into his solid frame. Muscles tense the moment my palm lands on his chest. The scent of cigars mingled with a harsh liquor fills my nostrils.
He leans in close, the warmth of his breath fanning over my ear. “Tonight, you’ll be mine. And when he walks in here,” he tells me, but I don’t know who he is. “I’ll be fucking your virgin pussy so hard you’ll never forget me.” The threat slithers into my ear and finds a home under my skin where goosebumps rise on every inch of my body. The tension I fought earlier is back, and it’s attacking me with a vengeance.
He steps back only to pull me along. I stumble behind him, trying to keep up, but he’s moving so quickly, my legs are too short, and when we reach the door to one of the rooms, he shoves it open and practically throws me over the threshold.
I fall to my knees, attempting to crawl away from him as fear skyrockets through me, gripping my chest and churning my stomach into thick, fear-filled mulch.