by Bella Jewel
Alarick makes a low, almost pained sound in his throat. "He betrayed me."
"I know."
"He fuckin' ripped my heart out."
"I. Know."
Alarick closes his eyes, the pain in his expression real.
This is killing him.
"We've got to be smart about this," Cohen murmurs, slowly releasing him. "We have to be fuckin' careful about what we do here. You know we do. You go, ride it off, take whatever time you need to fuckin' get your head around this, but I can't let you go to Samson and bust this all wide open. Can't, boss."
Alarick opens his eyes. "I know."
"Get on your bike, find your girl, go break somethin' apart. Do whatever you gotta do. Then you find us, and we're goin' to finish this the way it should have been finished months ago. You can deal with Samson after that."
Alarick studies both of us, and then without a word, gets on his bike and disappears.
I glance at Cohen, and his expression is no doubt the same as mine. Shock. Pain. Rage. A brother, someone we would have trusted with our lives, has betrayed us. Let us down. He has broken us into a thousand tiny pieces. You don't come back from that. Samson will die because of his actions, and that thought alone makes me want to fuckin' bellow with agony and rage.
"Why?" Cohen mutters, his voice low.
"I don't know, brother."
"He has been with us for-fuckin'-ever. Never let us down. Never put a foot wrong. Why the fuck would he help these people? Who are they to him?"
"I don't know."
Cohen tips his head back and roars, "Fuck!" into the air as loudly as possible.
I clasp him on the shoulder. "We gotta keep it together, for Alarick's sake. He ain't goin' to deal with this, you know he ain't. We gotta hold him up."
"Yeah," Cohen growls. "Yeah, I know."
"Let's get back to the club, get eyes on Samson. We need to find out what he knows and how he's passin' on the information. It's the only way we're goin' to end this. Zariah doesn't deserve to go down for this."
"No, she fuckin' doesn't. Let's ride."
We get on our bikes.
And we ride.
Both of us feeling the same pain deep in our chests.
Utter. Fuckin'. Betrayal.
19
ZARIAH
I slowly come to, my eyes burning and dry.
It takes me a moment to focus on my surroundings, but I realize I'm rocking when I do. Not the gentle kind, but rather rough. Like I'm on the ocean. Panic grips me, and I try to jerk upright, only to find I'm tied down. I let out an agonized bellow when the realization that I'm on a fucking boat hits me.
I'm on the ocean.
God knows where.
With fuck knows who.
"Oh, good, you're awake."
My head whips to my right, and I see Steven sitting on a chair beside the bed I'm currently strapped down on. We're in a room, timber walls, filled with old barrels and rickety furniture. The boat rocks again, and my stomach twists. This is so bad. There is no way Alarick will find me here, not when one of his own will be feeding him false information.
I keep it together.
I'm a cop.
I'm smart.
I'll find a way out of this.
I will.
"Why?" I rasp, meeting Steven's eyes.
I truly believed in him. I honestly thought there was absolutely no way he could be involved. I was wrong. So incredibly wrong. If I had listened to Alarick from the start, I wouldn't be in this mess.
It's my fault.
"Why not?" Steven shrugs, his voice as scarily calm as it always is.
He's so good at this, terrifyingly so.
"You have the most incredible career. You're willing to throw it all away for this?"
"I'm not throwing anything away. It's my career that allows me to get away with this. Don't you think I've covered every angle? Nobody knows, nor will they ever know what I'm doing. It was and will remain a secret operation."
"You fight to put criminals away," I shake my head, horrified. "You fight for justice. You're selling girls like they are nothing. How can you live with yourself?"
He smiles. "Quite easily. You see, I do fight for justice. I balance it out. I do bad, but I take down bad. It's a win-win. The perfect balancing act."
I scowl at him. "You're sick if you think that's how it works."
He crosses his legs and leans back in the chair. "Say what you will, it's you tied to the bed and not me. I'd be careful about my actions."
"What are you going to do? Sell me?"
He laughs. "Obviously. I have some rather large overseas buyers that will love you. Nobody will ever find you. I can promise you that."
"I'm a cop. I'm not a broken woman from the streets. You think they won't find me?"
"No, because I'm the best there is. Nobody is going to find you because I know how to cover everything. You went missing, oops."
I feel sick, mostly because I know he's right. He is the best at what he does. He's so god damned good, which is why he has gotten away with this for so long. He can make me disappear and ensure nobody finds me.
"The club will find a way," I say, my voice scratchy.
"The club is being dealt with. You don't need to worry about them."
Samson.
My body recoils at the very thought that he's been in on this the whole time. He's the reason we haven't been able to get anywhere, the reason Dax got away, the reason I'm here right now. He's the reason that everything is happening. Alarick doesn't know. He has no idea. He's going to search for me, and Samson will ensure he is led in the wrong direction. By the time they get close, I'll be gone.
I'm going to vomit.
I groan and look away.
"Samson is my brother."
I look back at him, horrified. "What?"
"He's my brother. He knows not to cross me. I have something he wants. He'll do anything for it, even take down a club that means the world to him. Don't doubt they mean everything to him, Zariah. They do. But I have something that means more. Blackmail, I suppose you could call it. I was happy to leave him be, let him play with his little club until you all started getting involved. Then I had no choice but to have him play the game. I had a card up my sleeve for a long time, and I knew that I'd need to use it against him one day. You could say he didn't see it coming, but he also had no choice but to believe me."
Samson didn't do this intentionally?
Why did he do it then?
What does Steven have against him, that could possibly make him turn against his club?
"What did you take from him?" I ask, my voice low.
Steven stands, stretching his arms. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'm sure they'll find out when he leads them on a wild goose chase. He'll never risk going against me. He'll make sure you're never found."
Samson. The man who is always so nice and so quiet?
How does this happen?
"Where are you taking me?" I ask.
Steven reaches the door and grins. "To a very, very special place."
WE ARRIVE AROUND EIGHT hours later. At least, that's an estimate. I'm usually quite good at telling the time, and if I were to guess, it would be close to that figure.
Wherever he has taken me, it took a hell of a long time to get there.
Movement above is what alerts me to the fact that we've stopped somewhere. I'm right because ten minutes or so later, Steven comes down into the room I'm in with three other men. He flashes me a smile, and then walks over and undoes me from the bed. Both men are pointing guns at me. Even I'm not stupid enough to try and fight that off.
"Let's go, Zariah."
I swallow, and my legs wobble as they drag me out of the room full of barrels and up to the upper deck on the ship. When we arrive, there are men everywhere, working and cleaning, moving things off the boat. Steven pushes me towards a ramp that leads us down to a dock, and when my eyes clear from the blazing sun flashing in them, I see we're on an islan
d.
Just as we suspected.
I glance around, and there is nothing else to be seen. It's just a singular island that isn't massive, but it's big enough that they have a few structures - a huge house, a warehouse, and a few smaller sheds. It's beautiful. If you were looking at it in any other way, you'd think you had just scored. That's not the case here, though. It's a terrifying place filled with pain and despair.
It reeks of it.
Steven pulls me across the sand, and the two men with guns follow close behind. Even if I could run, where the hell would I go? Into the ocean where I'd likely die before anyone helped me? They've thought this out very well. Nobody is escaping this place. It's a prison in the middle of nowhere.
A beautiful prison.
A lie.
We reach a large three-story house that's fully fenced. It is surrounded by a large yard, with a garden, but nothing else too spectacular. Steven walks me inside, and I don't take long to stare around as he pushes me through the house and out the back door. That's when I see it—the most horrific place I could ever imagine.
A huge fenced lot with cages.
Wired cages.
They're at least eight feet each, with a sheltered roof and wire surrounding them. Each cage is padlocked and electrified. They're covered with concrete floors, and each one has a small foam mattress on the ground, a pan in the corner, and nothing else. It's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life. I wouldn't subject dogs to it, let alone people.
But for people...it is.
Four women are sitting in the cages, laying on the beds, curled onto their sides. My heart slams against my ribcage. It was one thing when Dax was charming and gave them a dreamy life, but this...this is something else entirely. This is a nightmare.
"What..." I whisper, in shock.
"Do you like it?" Steven laughs. "I don't mind it myself. Once Dax did a runner, I decided we'd do it my way for once. These women don't need to be taken care of; they need to be sold. I'm now running the biggest operation you could imagine. Millions a year in sales, with no way of finding out."
"You're a monster," I gasp. "A sick monster."
"Probably," he chuckles. "But I'm damned good at it, don't you think?"
I jerk my arm as if that's going to do anything for me. Steven tightens his grip. "I will shoot you, Zariah. Money is not an issue, and while I will get a good penny for a cop, I'm not about to risk everything if you try to cause a scene."
I clamp my mouth shut even though I want to vomit. I want to rip my god damned stomach out to stop it from twisting and turning the way it is.
We reach a cage, and one of the men goes to a massive keypad and types something in. The buzzing sound dims, and Steven unlocks one, tossing me inside. I stumble backward and turn to charge at the door, but he slams it before I reach it. Moments later, I am forced away from it when they switch the electricity back on.
"There's no point trying to get out, Zariah. Even if you escaped me here, you'd never find a way off this island alive. Accept your fate."
"When?" I gasp, panting angrily. "When are you selling me?"
Steven shrugs. "We have auctions. The next one is in a few days. My highest buyers travel in by boat, we auction out the ladies, and they leave. After that, it's up to them what they do with you."
"How?" I say, shaking my head. "How do they get innocent girls out of the country, without causing a scene?"
He chuckles. "Surely you know how dark the world works, Zariah. There is always a way. Human trafficking is a big thing. You know this. Now you're going to understand how it's done. Quite interesting stuff."
He turns and walks away, the two men following him.
I clutch my head and bellow; my frustrated sounds echoing across the island.
"There's no point in screaming."
I whip my head to the left where the girl in the cage beside me is sitting.
"It doesn't make a difference," she goes on.
She's pretty, but it's obvious she's lived quite a dark life. Scars up her arms, dark rings under her eyes, and track marks tell me so. Still, she's only young and doesn't deserve what's going to happen to her.
"You're not like the rest of us," she says, tipping her head to the side, "you're clean."
I don't know if she means I'm clean from drugs, or just clean in general.
"I'm a cop," I exhale, sitting down onto the gross foam bed.
It's hard and uncomfortable.
"You are?" she asks, eyes widening. "How did they get hold of a cop?"
"With great force," I mutter. "How did they get hold of you?"
She shrugs. "I was looking for drugs. They just swooped in, told me they had drugs, and got me high. So high, I blacked out. I woke up here. It wasn't hard. Not like I have anyone looking for me. It's tragic. I'm not even scared of being sold. Maybe it'll be a better life than the hell hole I was living before."
That makes me so sad.
That someone's life could be so bad that they consider being sold might be better.
"What's your name?" I ask her.
"Kelli."
"I'm Zariah."
She nods. "That's a cool name."
"How long have you been here, Kelli?"
"About a week. So far, we have been stuck in these cages. Someone comes in once a day, cleans up after us, feeds us, and gives us water. Then they leave again."
That's horrible.
"Some of the girls are coming down from drugs. Fiona at the end there, she screams most of the night, so good luck sleeping. Then, she passes out from exhaustion all day. She even electrocuted herself last night, because she was losing it so bad."
"That's terrible," I say, feeling my stomach twist again.
"Yeah," she nods. "Yeah, it is."
"I'm going to find a way out of here," I whisper, more to myself than her.
She smiles bitterly and then lays back down. "Good luck to you."
I will.
I will find a way.
Goddammit. I will.
My baby boy needs me.
I won't leave him.
Panic seizes my chest as I think about him. I pray the club knows what happened after that phone call and that they have him, and he's safe.
The very thought that he might not be makes me so sick I curl into a ball, and a tear runs down my cheek.
Please.
Please.
I need to get out of here.
20
KENDRIC
"This is horrible," Briella breathes, running her hands down her face.
Karen is standing beside her after Briella told her the news about Samson. The two of them are in the room with Cohen, Bohdi, Alarick, and I. We're trying to come up with a way to get Samson to give us what we need. The only way we're going to find Zariah is to find out what he knows, and the only way we're going to get him to talk is to catch him off guard.
"Got the boy?" I ask Briella.
She nods. "I got him from daycare. He's with Merleigh at the moment."
One thing I know Zariah would be panicking about is Jayden. I made sure the moment we figured out she was missing, to call and have him picked up. If he's with us, he's safe. I will not let anything happen to that child.
"Good," I murmur.
"What are you going to do about Samson?" Karen asks, her eyes wide with shock.
"We're goin' to bring him in and make sure he tells us what we need to know. After that, it ain't your concern," Alarick mutters.
Briella's eyes widen. "You're not going to hurt him, are you?"
"He betrayed my club, Briella. He is part of the reason your sister is dead. Do you fuckin' understand that?"
"Maybe he didn't know them then, and..."
"He's related to them. I can guaran-fuckin'-tee that. He knows exactly what's goin' down."
Briella looks down at her feet, her face flushed. "I just don't believe...it just can't be real. He has been so good to this club, why would he do something like that?"
&n
bsp; "That ain't for us to worry about," Alarick mutters, his face drawn and tired. "Right now, we gotta get Zariah back before somethin' happens to her. She has put everything on the line for this club, and we haven't given her the time of day she deserves. We're makin' sure she comes home to that boy. So get it together, babe. We don't have time for tears."
Briella looks up at him, and then with a deep, sharp breath, she nods. "Okay."
"We need to find Samson, get him in here, and tell him what we know. Don't give him a chance to know it's comin'. The only way we're going to play this is if he suspects nothin'. I'll beat it out of him if I have to, but we are goin' to get him to lead us right to her."
I nod and turn towards the door. "I'll get him."
"I can get him," Karen says, shrugging. "I just saw him before, and we were chatting. I'll ask him if he can help me with something."
I look to her. "No offense, Karen, but you ain't part of this club. He isn't your brother. He's ours. I'm goin' to get him. You shouldn't even be in this room."
I turn and walk out, hearing her mumbling something. I stride down the halls with purpose. I don't want to scare him off, but I also have to make sure he comes with me. I find him sittin' at the bar, shooting back a shot of tequila. He swallows it down, his face scrunching harshly, and then he turns and glances at me.
"Brother," he murmurs.
"How's it goin'?" I ask him, sitting down and waving my hand for a shot, too.
The barmaid - a tiny, half-dressed thing - smiles and saunters over to get us another shot.
"It's goin'," he murmurs. "You?"
"Yeah. We got some leads on Zariah. Pres wants us all in there to hear the plan. You good for that?"
"He callin' church?"
It feels like a knife to the guts when he looks at me. Like a fuckin' burning poker, bein' plunged into my soul. He's my brother. My friend. Why would he fuckin' do this to us?
Why?