Daddy's Virgin Nanny

by Tia Wylder

  I stopped him again.

  “Untie him, I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  The man could barely stand. His emaciated body stood like a rickety tree in the dimly lit room.

  “Now, you’re going to find a way to pay me for those weapons and ammo within the next twenty-four hours, or my face is going to be the last thing you’ll ever see.”

  It’s all money to me. So long as they pay, we don’t have any problems. But then, of course, you run into situations where we disagree on the speed at which payment is rendered. In those situations, I like to take a hands-on approach.

  “I don’t have any money,” he babbled.

  “Figure something out!” I shouted.

  I motioned to Kraig, and we the left the room. I walked out into an abandoned bunker that this particular resistance was using as a base of operations. The armed men in the halls regarded me with blank stares, but I saw the hatred in their eyes. I was both their savior and their vanguard of destruction. They needed me, but ultimately my services would send them deeper and deeper into the maw of war.

  Such is the way of the world, I was simply providing supply to meet demand. We reached the surface and emerged onto a makeshift helipad where my chopper was waiting. The pilot had been standing at attention in the freezing cold with a fur-lined hood over his head and thick goggles over his eyes.

  He pulled down the bandana over his face as I approached. The icy snow-filled wind cut right through my trench coat and bit at the skin beneath. I was ready to leave this cold hell and get back.

  “Everything fixed sir?” he asked.

  “He has twenty-four hours. I’m not coming back to this ice box, though, send one of our own to collect.”

  “Very good, sir. Where to now?”

  “Back home, I need a drink.”

  I climbed into the chopper. Kraig slid in beside me, taking up almost two seats on his own. It was all muscle, though, he was truly a powerful weapon.

  “Do you love your job, Kraig?” I asked.

  He looked over to me as he polished the blood off his fists with a dirty cloth he kept in his jacket.

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  “Me too.”

  As the helicopter’s blades picked up speed, I felt the entire machine lift itself off the ground and ascend toward the sky.

  My phone started ringing and I felt my fists clench. It was probably my wife, calling to remind me that I should be at her beck and call.

  I pulled the vibrating device out of my pocket and saw not her name, but the name of a contact I had in Africa. I couldn’t remember which country. I looked at his name on the phone and focused on how to pronounce it when I answered. I set the headset I was wearing to Bluetooth from my phone and picked up.

  “Babatunde, what can I do for you my friend?”

  “Went to collect Mr. Uchida, Baako didn’t have the money. You said to call.”

  I really needed to get better at delegating these things.

  “One moment, Babatunde.”

  I turned to Kraig.

  “Are you able to do more negotiating today?” I asked.

  Kraig flexed his thick hands and nodded. I switched back to the phone call.

  “Thank you, we’ll be there soon to take care of the situation.”

  I hung up the phone and sighed. Looks like we were going out of the freezer and into the frying pan.

  I turned off the Bluetooth and radioed to the pilot.

  “Change of plans, it seems we have another debt to collect.”

  Chapter Two

  Kamaria Ife

  When you grow up with nothing, not even clean water, love is something you never expect to have. Your dreams are composed of the things most people take for granted. I grew up in a small village somewhere in Africa. I never knew the name. This was a place where most people didn’t survive past their infancy, let alone to adulthood. There came a day when a man claiming to be a prince came to our village. He was looking for a woman to bring home as his wife.

  Everyone wanted to be chosen. A chance to leave this place, to enjoy the comforts of a normal life, who wouldn’t want that? He arrived dressed in a flowing shirt and pants that were embroidered with magnificent colors. Blue like the sky and red like the sunset. He truly resembled royalty as he walked among us. I didn’t push past the other girls, nor did I shout at him to attract his attention. I simply stared at him as he passed and he looked back at me.

  I was young, I had only just turned eighteen, and I had never once considered the possibility of love. Still, when our eyes met, I was convinced that I had felt it. It was a rumbling in your stomach, but not the kind you heard when you went to sleep hungry. No, it was more like sparks of fire dancing around inside of you.

  My heart raced, but for once it wasn’t because I was scared. On the contrary, I was excited. He walked over to me and smiled with perfect white teeth. His hand came down and gently touched mine. I felt like lightning was shooting through me. I was convinced that this was the love so many people strived for in their lives.

  He took me with him, and we went back to his home. It was magnificent, the largest building I had ever laid eyes upon. There was a fountain in the front courtyard that flowed with fresh clean water. I remember trying to drink it, but the prince stopped me. I was embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to care.

  We went inside and I marveled at the lush carpets, the intricate art that hung upon the walls, and the priceless vases and sculptures that were spread throughout the house. I took a shower for the first time in my life and it was magnificent. I could change the temperature of the water whenever I wanted. When I was cleaned up, that night I was served a meal fit for a princess. It was hard to believe that any of this was real. It all seemed too good to be true.

  That’s because it was.

  I lived the greatest years of my life in that house. I had grown from a scrawny and emaciated girl into a black and big beautiful woman. Then in one night it was all taken from me. I didn’t know much about my husband, all I knew was that he cared for me, and I in turn cared for him. He was clearly rich and powerful, but that was the extent of my knowledge.

  I was sleeping comfortably in a bed with silk sheets when I heard a furious pounding on the front door. My eyes shot open as my husband climbed out of bed.

  “Who could that be?” I asked.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  I watched him walk over to the wardrobe in the corner. He had a key for it that he kept around his neck for safekeeping. I had never seen him open it before. He took the key off, unlocked it, and threw open the doors. Inside was a plethora of weapons. Everything from pistols, to assault rifles, to shotguns and grenades. He pulled out one of the assault rifles and went to work checking the clip. He held it in one hand as he picked up one of the grenades.

  He set everything down on his desk beside the wardrobe as the pounding on the front door resumed downstairs. He pulled a pistol from the arsenal, checked the clip, and then walked over to me.

  “You don’t know how to use this, I’m sure, but you’re going to need it.”

  I was terrified, my heart was thundering my chest as I took the gun with shaking hands. This was fear, an emotion I was more than acquainted with.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked.

  He picked up his rifle and the grenade.

  “Point and shoot, love point and shoot.”

  He walked out of the bedroom and I sat on the bed with the gun in my hand. He had turned the safety off before he handed it to me. It was ready to take lives, all I had to do was pull the trigger.

  A deafening explosion came from downstairs. I fell back against the headboard of the bed as the sound of gunfire came from downstairs. There were several pops, followed by the repeating tap of an assault rifle. The exchange continued for some time as I sat perfectly still staring at the open doorway. Fear had paralyzed me, my legs were like stone.

  The gunfire
stopped. The silence was almost worse than the noise.

  “Come on out! We know you’re up there!” a man shouted.

  My hands gripped the gun tightly. I lifted it up and aimed it at the open doorway. The barrel shook as I tried to hold it steady. I heard the footsteps of someone coming to get me. Several men filled the doorway. I froze, I couldn’t pull the trigger. One of the men walked over and pulled the gun out of my hands.

  “Well, I suppose Mawimbi won the bet,” one said.

  They all laughed as if it didn’t matter. Something hard struck me across the back of my head, and everything went black.

  When I woke up again, I was in a room with no windows and only one door. It smelled horrific. It was also pitch black and I was laying on a thin mattress. Before I moved I heard someone else stir in the room. Metal clanged together and echoed through the space.

  “Who is that?” I asked.

  When I tried to stand up, I felt a cold metal cuff around my right ankle. It was attached to a chain that didn’t afford me enough slack to stand on my feet. I could barely climb onto my knees.

  I heard another chain, and then another. No one spoke, though, but I could feel their eyes on me.

  “Where am I? Please, someone answer me!”

  No one answered.

  A loud grinding noise came from the door to the room. A moment later it swung open and light poured through. I had to shield my eyes, but for a brief moment I caught a glimpse of the other people in the room.

  Three others in total, all women. They seemed to be African like me, but judging by their bodies, they had been here for a long time. I saw the rusty chains that held us down and the stained mattresses.

  A large man stood in the doorway with four plates stacked atop one another. He walked inside and set them down just within the reach of a woman.

  “Share this time,” he said.

  I picked up the plate and smelled the food on it. It was slop, with no definitive flavor or texture. I ate it anyway, I needed my strength. One way or another, I was going to get out of here.

  Chapter Three

  Daiki

  It was time to collect another debt. People seemed to think that I was some sucker bank handing out credit cards. They thought I wouldn’t come for my money, but they were wrong. I had to teach them a lesson, one resistance fighter, or inspired revolutionary at a time. They could wage their war, so long as they paid their debts.

  The helicopter set down in a blistering hot field. Sand and debris scattered all around us as the engine cut out and the blades slowly came to a stop. The pilot leaped out of his seat and opened the back door. I climbed out and immediately broke a sweat. I hated the cold, but I hated this kind of heat even more.

  Kraig stepped out beside me. I could still see pink on his knuckles from the blood. He would have them wet again with someone else’s very soon. I turned to the pilot.

  “Wait here, we won’t be long.”

  The pilot nodded. He had taken off his winter wear on the ride over, but I could see sweat emerging on his forehead. We walked across the flat terrain towards a military camp with tents set up across the landscape. Rusty jeeps drove in and out of the camp as men dressed in ragged uniforms passed by carrying my guns.

  I even saw kids, no older than ten or eleven-years-old, patrolling the camp and armed to the teeth. It wasn’t right, but it also wasn’t my business. I only made house calls when the debt wasn’t paid. We made our way to the largest tent in the center of the camp. It wasn’t hard to find these types of people.

  We walked into the tent with bravado, and the guards immediately put away their weapons when they saw who had arrived. I never gave these people my name, but in recent years they have taken to naming me themselves. I heard them whisper Vita when I passed by. It was Swahili for War. An appropriate name, given my trade.

  At the back of the tent, a short African man sat dressed in ragged camouflage pants and a green vest. His skin glistened with sweat, no doubt because the interior of the tent was like a sauna.

  “You have come for your debt?” he asked.

  “Yes, I hear you have not paid.”

  The man grinned as he stood to his feet. I could tell by the way he carried himself that he thought he could kill me and walk away a free man. So many had tried, enough that I invested in both gun and martial arts training myself. It had been a long time since I needed either, but I was up for some practice.

  “I do not plan on paying!” he said, spitting on the dirt beside him.

  “I thought as much.”

  The guards in the tent all raised their rifles.

  I applauded slowly. The smile faded from the man’s face.

  “You do not fear death?” he asked.

  “No my friend, because I am death.”

  The man’s resolve cracked for a moment. I saw true fear in his eyes, but it didn’t stay.

  “Kill him!”

  I had my hand in the pocket of my slacks the entire time. In there I kept a failsafe that would disable all of my weapons. The easiest way to deal with a snake in the grass was to first take his teeth.

  The two guards fired but nothing happened when they pulled the triggers. Kraig took the right, and I the left. I ducked down and hit the muscular guard with a strike that knocked him out cold. He fell to the ground. I spun around as Kraig tore the rifle out of the other guard’s hands.

  He turned the gun around and cracked it against the guard’s skull. He went to hit him again, but I stopped him.

  “Enough, Kraig, save your strength for the main course,” I said.

  Kraig stood up and nodded. He dropped the gun onto the ground and we both turned to the man at the back of the tent. He was cowering in fear, mumbling, and begging for his life.

  “I’ve disabled every gun in your entire army. If you want them back on, you’ll give me my money.”

  The man dropped to his knees and pleaded with me as if I were some sort of merciful god.

  “Please, I have no money! We need these weapons, for our cause is righteous!”

  I couldn’t help but start laughing. I looked to Kraig who cracked a smile.

  “Do you hear that, Kraig? His cause is righteous! Oh, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I would have my fucking money!”

  I swung out with an open palm and back handed the man. He fell backward onto the dirt and covered his face.

  “Get him up,” I said.

  Kraig grabbed the small man by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet.

  “Now listen, you’re going to pay with your money, or you’re going to pay with your life. It’s your choice.”

  “I have women, big beautiful women! You take one, no cost! They are young, supple, she will treat you like a king!”

  I had never been offered a woman before, this was new. I mulled it over for a moment, if only for the concept of being treated like I deserved. No, I wouldn’t stoop to human trafficking, nor would I cheat on my wife. I was an arms dealer, yes, but I wasn’t a monster.

  “You have two weeks to come up with my money. After that I’m coming back, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

  Kraig and I left as the man begged for me to take his offer. I had to admit, it sounded tempting, but I only dealt in currency I could count. I wasn’t about to put a price on someone’s life.

  Chapter Four

  Kamaria

  I didn’t know how long they kept me down there. Weeks? Months? It felt like years. I tried counting based on the meals they brought us, but I didn’t know if they brought meals three times a day, or once, or merely when they felt like it. All I knew is that I was slowly losing my mind. Every night I had nightmares.

  “Are you going to finish your bread?” a voice called out.

  I wouldn’t have called it bread, it was more like a rock that you could eat if you tried really hard. My stomach rumbled, begged me to try, but I didn’t want it.

  “No, take it,” I said.

  I threw it in the direction
of the voice. It landed with a loud thud on the other side of the room. I heard a chain rattle and a strained noise.

  “Damnit, I can’t reach it!”

  “Not my problem,” I said.

  They didn’t talk to me much after that. I think we all hated each other, despite the fact that we hadn’t ever met prior to this room. It was like all of us just wanted someone to blame.

  The door swung open with a loud groan and the silhouette of a man stood in the center for a moment.

  “I’m coming in there,” he said, “No sudden movements.”

  He lumbered through the doorway and walked toward me. I vaguely heard the man calling to me as he stood over me. I felt his hands reached down and grab the shackle around my ankle.

  The chain was off and he pulled me up. As I walked out of the room, I had to shut my eyes against the light. It felt like I was staring directly into the sun. They pulled a bag over my head that smelled like dirt and sweat. One of the men took me by the arm and led me through hall after hall until we emerged into the scorching sun. I felt the heat on my skin as they pushed me into the backseat of a jeep.

  The engine grumbled as the car bounced across the uneven landscape. Dirt roads stretched out in every direction, there was no such thing as a smooth ride out here. We drove for a long time before the car stopped. They pulled me out and we walked towards the sound of plane engines. They led me up a ramp and into a cool and air-conditioned environment. I sat down in a thick and comfortable seat as they pulled the bag off of my head. Light flooded my sight. My eyes screamed in pain as I shut them tight. I briefly saw the empty seats around me as I tried to slowly open my eyes and catch a glimpse at what surrounded me. The plane started to move as I tried to move my hands and realized they were handcuffed to the seat.

  I managed to regain my sight, despite the glowing lights above me. In front of me, a small screen was playing a movie. It showcased men in a prison, but I didn’t pay attention to it at first. It reminded me of my own story. Of being imprisoned and forced to do what you must to survive. However, I had little else to do or look at during the flight, so I waited and watched the movie.