Secrets (Portentous Destiny Series Book 2)
Page 19
I look at him perplexed, but he just gives me a malevolent smile. I shudder at the thought that I am a product of this man.
“Come, Lily, I shall keep you away from the children. As my daughter, you shall at least sleep in a bed tonight,” he says and for a moment I almost believe he has a heart somewhere hidden deep inside him. “That way you are available to me if I change my mind.” And with that statement, I know that he, in fact, does not have a heart, but is nothing more than a cold, evil man. How can one twin be so good and one so evil? He leads me back down the hallway and puts me in the room next to the one where the children are.
“Sleep tight, mi amore,” he says and caresses my cheek. “You are so like your mother. I can now see what a beautiful woman she would have become, and it is more than I could have hoped for.” I can feel his erection pressed against me as he leans in once more and smells my hair. He pushes me down on the bed and closes the door behind him.
I make myself take deep breaths until I begin to calm down enough that I can focus. I now am free of my tape which gives me a small amount of comfort. I listen and hear that the men are all down the hall back in the room I just came from. I look around. I am on a bed. It is a small twin bed made of metal with a pathetically thin mattress. There is no blanket and no pillow. As my eyes adjust to the moonlight, I can see stains on the bed. Blood stains and urine stains make patterns on the bed that make me nearly heave. I quickly stand up and hobble over to the window. This one is smaller than the other room. I look around the room to see if there is anything I can use to break the window. Nothing. I sigh and decide to free my hands. I sit on the cold wooden floor and bring my arms around my body much like a jump rope. Thank God for dance classes and yoga! I lift my legs straight up, so I am in a “V” and then bend my knees. I bring my arms under my bottom and work to pull my legs closer to myself, so they can go around my bent legs. I work at this for a while and eventually, I manage to crush my legs enough against me that I just barely manage to work my arms over them and up, and then I am free. I let myself spread out on the floor so that my arms are above my head. It feels good to stretch them. I look down at the rope. I can’t help but laugh a small inaudible laugh as I immediately recognize the knot in the rope. As luck would have it, my dorky brother was a Boy Scout for way too many years and forced me to learn every type of knot. With my teeth, I grasp the one loose end of rope and give it a tug. It takes a few tries, but on my fourth attempt, I manage to loosen the knot. I slip my left hand free and then untangle my right hand.
I move my wrists in small circles until all the feeling comes back to them. Then, I make quick work of undoing the rope around my ankles. I begin to pace. What next?
The children! I knock quietly on the shared wall. I get down by the floorboards and whisper for them to knock back if they can hear me. I hold my breath and a moment later I hear a small knock. I grin. Thank God, they are OK! I whisper back to them that I am working on a plan to get us out of here and that they should be quiet and wait for me. I look around the room. There is literally nothing in the room except the bed and the mattress. I sit for a long time. I watch the sky. It is now nearly sunrise. The sky is getting lighter.
It’s in this moment that it dawns on me. The mattress! I hop up and run over to it. I cringe as I touch it, but I push down the bile that rises in my throat. I have to get it open. I need a spring. I manage to tear open a small hole that already exists. I feel inside the mattress for a spring. It takes a while for me to get one loose enough to pull out from the inside of it, but after what must be twenty minutes I feel it give and break and a long, curly piece of metal slides out from the material.
I look at it and smile. I walk to the door and lie down so I can see underneath. It is very quiet. I hear nothing. The men must be sleeping.
I take the spring and slide one end of it into the door lock. I move it around and around. Nothing. I bend it so that I can stick one end of the spring in one direction in the lock and one end in the other direction. It is one of those skeleton key locks, not like the ones in the house I grew up in. I continue twisting it. And then I hear the pop. I turn the knob slowly, testing it, and I feel it turn all the way before I pull and the door opens. I peer around the door into a quiet and dark hallway. I slowly open the door and scoot through it, leaving it open just in case I need to run back inside. I walk to the children’s door and unlock it in the same manner. Once inside, I explain my plan to them. I tell them to be silent like mice and do what I say. They nod. Some of them are crying now and others are just sitting and staring at me in shock, I think.
I untie them and remove the tape. I need to find a door or window. I look at their window. It is odd, the window locks from the outside. I tell them to sit and wait here.
I close their door, making sure it remains unlocked, and I make my way very slowly and very quietly down the hallway. I close my door and continue walking. I remember at my grandmother’s home that you could, if you are very slow and very cautious, feel the give of a floorboard before it makes a sound. So, I employ this theory. It is difficult to do because all the boards give a bit. I manage to only cause one to creak, and then I stand still for several minutes waiting, but I hear no movement. The sun is nearly up now, and I know the men will wake soon.
I don’t see them in the room from last night as I pass it. But I do see my phone. I take two extra seconds to retrieve it. It barely has any battery as it has been roaming for service all night. I send Lance a text and photo of my GPS locator. If I ever get service, maybe it will go through. I stick it in my pocket and continue onward. At the end of the hall is a kitchen and it has a door. I peek out the window. I don’t see anyone. I turn the knob and find the door is unlocked.
I exit the small house and walk around the back to the window that belongs to the children’s room. They are standing there staring at me. I look around and see some old tires. I grab a few and make a ladder and climb up to unlock the window. I push it slowly open. It creaks once, and I stop and wait. Still, I hear nothing. The sun is now so close to being up that I can make out the line of orange on the horizon. We don’t have much time.
I open the window the whole way and one by one I get the children out of the house. I can see the city in the distance. I look at the oldest child. She is nearly fifteen by my estimate. I ask her name. She says it is Maria Valeria. I tell her to take the children down the mountain into the city. I can see a path in the woods, it is old and clearly not used recently, but I tell her to follow it and keep going down the mountain until they reach a road. I look around and see some mud. I take the youngest child and turn them around. On her shirt, in mud, I write the number for Alfonso and then Lance. Call the first number, I tell the oldest child. Tell him you need to go to this address. It is the church where Father Nicholas works. Ask for Father Nicholas or Sister Juanita. Explain what has happened. Tell them Lily sent you. Then call the second number once you are at the church. Tell him I am OK and will meet him at the church once I get off the mountain.
She nods at all of this and begins to walk toward the woods with other children. As she goes, she turns to me and asks what I am going to do.
I tell her I am going to get evidence. She shrugs, and the children disappear into the forest. I sigh with relief when I can no longer hear or see them. Then, I hear movement in the house. A door opens, and men are talking. In another moment, I hear a car pull up and park outside the small dwelling.
Chapter 21
Lily’s Playlist: “The Fighter” by Gym Class Heroes
I walk around the far side of the building and peek out toward the road. It is a nice car, a black, luxury SUV. A man gets out and comes around to the other side, opening the door. And my breath leaves my body.
Mohammed steps out of the vehicle and looks around. I fly back against the wall of the small building. I get out my phone, five percent battery. I take a quick photo of Mohammed and my father as he steps out to shake hands with him.
“Good morning, Mohammed,
” my father says.
“Good morning, I hear there was an issue last night,” he says.
“No, no issue. I ran into my daughter. I told you that would eventually happen. She is here,” my father explains. “I wasn’t planning on bringing her, but she woke up and we had no choice.”
“Are you selling her, too?”
“Well, I am contemplating that. What would the price be?”
“She was the one Alexei tried to take, no?”
“Yes.”
“She is allegedly a virgin. If that is confirmed, then she would be worth quite a bit. However, if not, then she is about three thousand dollars, maybe five thousand dollars, less than a fifteen-year-old.”
“I see.”
“Well, what would you like to do? The van is on its way up the mountain now.”
“Let me confirm for you. If she is not pure, then I will take care of her myself.”
“Very good,” Mohammed says. His driver hands him a case and he opens it and shows it to my father who nods and takes it. “We aren’t going to have any problems because of this, are we?”
“No,” my father says reassuringly. “I have been doing this for several decades now. As I told you before, you can trust me.”
“I hope so, for your sake,” Mohammed says. “The remainder of the money will come up with the van driver. Once you have delivered the goods, then you will have everything owed to you.”
“Excellent.”
“May I see the children?” Mohammed asks.
Oh shit, I think to myself. This is about to get ugly.
“Sure, I will bring them out, just a moment,” my father says as he turns to go back inside. At that moment, Mohammed’s driver calls out to him, telling him he has a phone call. He hands him a satellite phone. Mohammed speaks angrily into it. My father stops and listens. I snap a few more photos of them together.
“I’m sorry, I cannot stay. Something has come up that I must tend to in town. We will speak again later this week,” Mohammed says and shakes hands with my father before stepping back toward the car.
I take a few more shots of my father and then turn toward the woods. I start running down the mountain. I need to get as far away as possible. I have to warn Lance about Mohammed.
I run and run for what seems like a very long time. At some point, I hear a gunshot ring out in the distance. I listen again and hear a few more shots; it is coming from the direction of the house. I don’t stop. I keep running. I slip and fall several times, twisting my ankle. I know I am covered in bruises and cuts and scrapes and now a good size gash on my leg that will probably need stitches, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been running. I can barely catch my breath. It is so humid that I can barely breathe. The sun is all the way up now, and I look up through the thick trees. I cannot see it as there are so many leaves. I continue on, slowing down slightly. I hear a car in the distance, and I stop and listen. Then I hear another and another. A road. I turn to run toward it and smack right into a tree. I fall, and I feel my ankle give this time. I cry out and quickly muffle my sound with my hand. I look down. I don’t see bone, but it begins to swell. Shit. I’m about to lose it when I feel a vibration against my ass cheek. What the…? I actually laugh out loud as I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone. It’s a text.
I have service. I only have three percent left on my battery. I call Lance and he picks up on the first ring.
“Lily!” he cries out.
“Lance, it’s me. I…” I choke up as relief floods me.
“Lily, where are you?” he yells, clearly upset.
“Lance, calm down. I need to tell you something,” I say as calmly as I can muster. “My phone’s about to die. Mohammed is bad. My father, Father James, has been taking kids and selling them. Human trafficking. He was doing business with Alexei and now he’s in business with Mohammed. Don’t let Cody near him.” I hear cursing from the other end of the line.
“Cody just called him,” Lance says. I can hear the fear in his voice now. “He had asked for his help with looking for you. I think Mohammed knows that I know what is going on.”
“Go, call Cody. I’m fine. I’m almost down to the main road. I’ll get a ride into town. Meet me at the church. Father Nicholas’ church.”
“OK, are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, please just call Cody,” I beg.
“I will. Please be careful, please, Lily. Don’t do anything…” He can’t finish.
“I won’t. It’s OK,” I say. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up and keep going. I hobble along until I find the road. It’s a smaller road than I thought. I follow it and then another until I get to a larger road. Eventually, I find a taxi and it takes me to the church. Alfonso is sitting by his car. He’s on the phone. I see two police cars by his. I get out and run to him. He hugs me and looks at me, his eyes wide. I ask if he can pay the taxi. He nods and hands the driver money. I explain a short version of what has happened, and he nods. He knows.
As I turn to stumble toward the church, I collide with a body. It is big, strong and the smell is familiar. I wrap my arms around it the second I register that it’s Lance. He holds me close.
“Lily, I was so scared,” he whispers into my ear. “I thought…I didn’t know what to think.”
I pull back, trying to compose myself. “Cody?” I ask.
“Cody is fine. He’s here actually. He made up something and got Mohammed to turn around,” he says.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s almost three in the afternoon,” he says. I shake my head not believing that it has taken me nearly eight hours to hike down the mountain.
“The children?” I ask.
“They are fine, just fine. Thanks to you,” he says.
I feel myself relax, just slightly. He pulls back just enough to see me and gasps. “Jesus, Lily. We need to get you to the hospital.”
Before I can respond, I’m in Lance’s arms and Alfonso is opening the car door. Lance speaks rapidly in Spanish with two officers, and then we are driving through town. Lance carries me into the hospital and I am taken back into what I can assume is the ER. It is not like ERs in the States. It is really just little beds that are used in ambulances with curtains in between them for privacy. Lance sets me on one that a nurse points to and a doctor walks over to look at me. He asks what happened, and I explain. He nods, and Lance says the police are already involved and hands him a business card for a police officer. He gives it to a nurse to call and he looks over me. Lance whispers that Jack’s police contacts were aware of what happened. I sigh, knowing that my family must be freaking out by now.
The next few hours are a blur as I am stitched up and my ankle x-rayed. It’s not broken, just badly sprained. Once they wrap my ankle, I am allowed to leave. Cody meets us at the hospital entrance, and Lance carries me to the car.
Now that we are alone, and the craziness of the past twenty-four hours is dying down, I launch into a million questions.
“Do I need to speak with the police? I have a number to call. I need to get back to Las Naranjas. Can we go now? And where are the children?” I start spewing questions.
Lance puts his finger to my mouth. “Shhhh,” he says and caresses my hair. “One thing at a time, gorgeous, one thing at a time.”
“I need to know what happened,” I demand.
Lance sighs. “First things first,” he says as he leans in and kisses me. He smiles just slightly as he pulls away. “OK. After you called, I woke Cody up and we started to drive to Las Naranjas, but by the time we got there, you were gone. We woke up Patricia and she freaked out and started crying. Apparently, the directora has been involved and Patricia new something was going on, but the directora threatened her. The old director retired and knowing they needed more kids, Mohammed used his local connections to get this woman appointed, so they could easily remove kids. We called the cops, and then I remembered you said som
ething about Jack. Cody called Zoe and Zoe called Jack and Jack called his contacts. They all just arrived a few hours ago, about the time you made it to the church. Jack is on his way here now. The kids arrived first, about an hour before you. They did as you asked, and Alfonso brought them here. He called me, and we chatted about everything. He was very concerned about you. Your biological uncle got the foster agency to send social workers that he trusted to get the kids. They’ve been sent to a secret location for safekeeping for a while. The police interviewed them and Alfonso. Now they are looking for Mohammed, your father, and several other guys that may be involved.”
Even though the doctor has asked already about my physical condition, he looks at me with concern. “Are you sure he didn’t do anything to you?”
“Yes,” I whisper. I shudder just at the thought of it. I lean against Lance. I want to cry, but no tears come. I just sit there, leaning against him as Cody drives us through the city. He pulls up to a small house. “Where are we?”
Cody turns to us. “I rented a different house under my friend’s name. We can stay here for tonight.”
Lance refuses to put me down and carries me into the house and up to a bedroom. He lays me on the bed. Suddenly, I’m very cold. I shiver, and Lance pulls a blanket over me.
He stands, and fear grips me. “Don’t leave me,” I whisper, looking up at him.
He immediately sits down and embraces me. “I’m not leaving you, baby,” he says. “I’m just taking my clothes off. We should get you changed too.”
I look down at my clothes under the covers. “But I…,” I start.
“Cody bought us a change of clothes while we were at the hospital,” he says. He reaches over to a bag that I noticed Cody had on his front passenger seat. He pulls out underwear, yoga pants, a t-shirt, and sports bra for me. I also see a dress in the bag and sandals. He pulls out two changes of clothes for himself as well as some underwear.