TRAFFICKED: A Mex Anderson Novel

by Peg Brantley

  Maddy scooted off the bumper and followed her friend, keeping a safe distance between them even though Livvy was intent on her texts and unlikely to notice her surroundings.

  Utah Park was large with lots of grass and small lakes, ponds and a waterfall. The only problem with the park was that when it rained heavily it flooded, turning into one gigantic water feature. This afternoon was warm and sunny. The couple could be meeting anywhere.

  Maddy kept Livvy’s pace, staying about thirty feet behind, while also trying to see who might be lurking off to the sides or waiting expectantly ahead. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. The protection racket was obviously not something she was cut out for. Good thing she wanted to go into IT. Livvy’s veterinary practice was going to be her first client. Maddy wanted to protect not only her friend but her future income.

  Livvy made her way to a bridge and halted in the middle of the span. Maddy moved in the other direction and found a place to sit under a stand of trees where she could observe. The bridge must be the meet-up point.

  She looked around. People walked their dogs, jogged, clustered in after-school groups. No one looked threatening. No one looked remotely interested in Livvy.

  Until someone did.

  * * *

  “Livvy?”

  I spin around to the voice and run into his arms. “Ian!” I inhale his cologne. A rich, musky scent. I think I’ll love that smell forever.

  His shoulders are broad and his strength is amazing. Finally I tweak out of his hug to look into his eyes.

  “Livvy? Is something wrong?”

  My heart is hammering so hard it’s hard to breathe. If Ian is sixteen, he’s seriously sick.

  “You’re old!” I blurt out before I can stop the words.

  “Not old, Livvy. I’m only a couple of years older than I told you.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “Because by the time we discussed our ages, I’d already fallen in love. I didn’t want to lose you. Can you forgive me?”

  He’d already fallen in love with me?

  “How old are you?” Please don’t say you’re thirty. Please, please, please.

  “How old do you think I am?”

  “Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”

  Ian laughs. “I’ve always looked old for my age. I’m actually nineteen. Like I said, only a few years older than what I told you.”

  “Yeah, but that would be like me telling you I’m fifteen.”

  He takes my face in his hands. “In the last month we’ve spoken our hearts. We know our souls. You have the ideas and thoughts of a woman twice your age. Besides, age is only a number.” He leans over and whispers in my ear, “And even more important, I love you, Olivia.”

  My knees tremble and I feel Ian’s strong arms hold me up.

  “Please tell me you forgive me.” His eyes search mine. It’s like his whole world hinges on my answer.

  “Promise me you’ll never lie to me again.”

  Ian smiles. He has a gorgeous smile. “I promise.”

  “In that case, you’re forgiven.”

  That’s when he kisses me. Sweet and tender. More like a boy than a man, but I couldn’t say for sure.

  * * *

  Maddy watched from her place under the trees, 9-1 entered into her phone. When she saw Livvy stiffen and back away she was ready to press the last 1 and jump into action. But Ian didn’t grab her friend and Livvy didn’t try to run away. The two figures stood in the middle of the bridge and appeared to be talking. Maddy didn’t want to create drama where drama wasn’t necessary.

  She curled her thumb into her palm and continued to watch.

  If someone asked Maddy why she was tailing her best friend, she couldn’t have answered. An uncomfortable knot in her gut was all she had to go on. Livvy didn’t want to hear any words of caution so those were the words blasting Maddy’s thoughts. Loud and bold and red.

  Then she saw them draw together and kiss.

  Maddy drew in a deep breath and held it. Maybe she’d been wrong about Ian. Maybe the knot in her gut was because she’d never actually talked to him. Didn’t know him. Couldn’t possibly know how he felt about Livvy.

  Maybe she’d been wrong all along. She exhaled. Livvy and Ian stood at the rail and talked for another thirty minutes.

  Maddy watched as the couple, arm in arm, moved off the bridge in her direction. She turned her back to the path, waiting for them to walk past.

  Livvy’s not in danger. At least not now.

  Maddy wondered why she couldn’t get rid of the worry… couldn’t get rid of the knot.

  She followed her friend.

  At the parking lot, there was one last, long embrace. Ian took off and Livvy began texting almost immediately.

  Maddy’s phone buzzed.

  It was wonderful. RU home? I want to come over and tell u everything.

  Maddy thought quickly. Not home now.

  Want to come to dinner?

  If OK with ur mom.

  She loves u. Come as soon as u can.

  K.

  Maddy tucked her phone in her backpack and watched Livvy pile into a minivan that belonged to one of the Campbell’s neighbors. After the van drove away, she unlocked her bike and straddled it while she called her mom to tell her she was going to Livvy’s for dinner. Maddy decided to ride straight there, wishing her friend lived closer to Utah Park.

  He began selling T for sex across the West Coast. It turned out that her youthful “tween” body (she was 10), was a major selling point, and he demanded that she meet a quota of a thousand dollars a night.

  —Stockholm Syndrome in the Pimp-Victim Relationship, by Natalie Kitroeff for the New York Times May 3, 2012

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I watch Ian load the bags into his car. We almost bought out TJ Maxx. “You’re spoiling me.”

  “Nothing’s too good for the girl I love.”

  “Really? You love me?”

  “I will do anything to keep you safe. To give you everything you want. To make you believe you’re the most important person in my life.” He comes over to me and tilts my head up for a kiss. “And I believe you feel the same way about me.”

  I wonder how I’m going to explain these new clothes to my mom. There are too many to slip into my wardrobe without her noticing.

  “Do you?” Ian asks.

  “Do I what?”

  “Feel the same way about me?”

  Suddenly I feel lightheaded. The idea of love was one thing. Movies and music and my imagination made me believe I was ready. But now here’s Ian. Older than I thought Ian. Expecting me to be mature about all of this Ian. Waiting for me to say something Ian. “What do you mean?” I stall.

  “I mean, am I as important to you as you are to me?”

  I’m relieved. He’s not talking about love right now. “Sure, but I don’t have money to buy you clothes.” I nod to the packages in the backseat.

  “That’s not important. The clothes are my way of showing you how much you mean to me. How much I want to make you happy. Do you want to make me happy, Livvy?”

  * * *

  Maddy’s phone rang. She looked at the Caller ID and wondered why Mrs. Campbell would be calling her and felt the knot in her gut that had never left give a twist.

  “Maddy, is Livvy with you?”

  The knot threatened to explode into her heart.

  “No. I haven’t seen her since before lunch. She said she had a dentist appointment.”

  “Oh-god-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god.”

  “Did you try calling your dentist?” Maddy already knew the answer.

  “Livvy didn’t have a dentist appointment.”

  Maddy couldn’t help it, she started to cry. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “What, Maddy? What are you sorry about? What do you know?”

  “I think I ought to come over,” she managed to say through her sobs.

  “Come. Now. I’m calling the police.”

  Maddy left a note
saying where she was going. She didn’t feel like getting into details with her mom. Not before she got into them with Livvy’s mom. She’d have to tell Mrs. Campbell about Ian.

  Maddy knew where Livvy hid her diary.

  Ten minutes later Maddy stowed her bike in the courtyard of Livvy’s house and shouldered her backpack. Mrs. Campbell stood in the doorway looking scared. Maddy took a couple of steps toward her unsure of who needed a hug the most. They fell into each other’s arms and Maddy didn’t want to let go, but a police car appeared and Mrs. Campbell stiffened.

  “Can I go up to Livvy’s room? There’s something there that might help.”

  “Yes, go.”

  Livvy’s older sister, Sarah, and younger brother, Ethan, were both sitting in the living room. They weren’t talking. They weren’t moving. “Hey,” Maddy said.

  “Hey,” Sarah responded. Maddy barely heard her. Ethan kicked out a leg.

  “Where’s your dad?”

  “On his way home from Atlanta.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why are you here?” Sarah asked. Ethan kicked out his leg again.

  “I, um… I need to go to Livvy’s room.”

  Silence.

  “Your mom said it was okay.”

  Silence.

  Maddy ran upstairs, careful not to pound her feet inside the quiet house.

  She threw open the door to her friend’s room and stopped. Someone, probably Mrs. Campbell, had turned on all the lights. Livvy was everywhere. The two friends had spent as much time in each other’s bedrooms as they’d spent in their own. Maddy’s feet were glued to the floor while images and sounds of shared secrets flooded her brain.

  “Forgive me, Liv.” Maddy closed the door then went to the bookcase next to Livvy’s desk and drug out five classic novels.

  “No one will ever find my diary behind these,” Livvy said. “Who reads these unless they have to?”

  “What about under your mattress?”

  “That’s the first place Sarah or my mom would look.”

  Maddy reached her hand to the back wall of the case and grabbed the small book that contained the life of her BFF. A tear slid down her cheek. “I want you to write in this again, Liv.” She slid to the floor, shoulders shaking as she began to truly believe the worst had happened.

  Hold it together. For Livvy. You might be her only hope.

  When Maddy scrubbed the tears off her face, she also scrubbed away her fears. Then she scooted back against the bed to go through her friend’s journal, intent on finding only the pertinent entries and keeping the rest of Livvy’s secrets secret.

  A few minutes later, Maddy wondered how she was going to share this information without being forced to turn the diary over. She knew she didn’t have much time, but she wanted to think. She stuffed her friend’s words into her backpack and stood up.

  As she turned to the door, it opened.

  “What are you doing in here?” Sarah asked. She stepped into the room like she wanted to pick a fight.

  “I, uh… I needed to be here for a few minutes.”

  Sarah held Maddy’s eyes for a short count and then nodded. “Me too.”

  * * *

  “You told me you wanted to make me happy. The way you’re acting does not make me happy.” Ian is pouring himself a drink. He pours a second glass.

  I curl deeper into the corner of the only chair in the hotel room. It’s hard and scratchy but feels like my best safe place.

  “Were you lying to me?”

  The camera is sitting on the corner of the dresser crushed up against the television.

  “You know I bought all of those clothes to make you happy, right?”

  The camera is pointed in my direction.

  Ian sees me looking at it and turns it away.

  “I want to see you in your new clothes. Hasn’t anyone ever taken pictures of you in new clothes? For school? Easter?”

  I can’t find my voice.

  “Answer me, Olivia.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Uh-huh, what?”

  I swallow. I do want to make Ian happy. I do. He’s the one who makes me feel special. Nobody else makes me feel the way he does. Why am I behaving like a baby? “Yeah, I’ve had pictures taken of me in new clothes.”

  “Well, that’s all I want too.”

  “But you want more.” My voice is soft and sounds like a whiney baby.

  “The other pictures are only for me. I promise. I want to see you go from the old things you’re wearing to the new things I bought for you. Because I want you to be happy.”

  He takes a drink and gives me a disappointed look. “Do you want to make me happy, Olivia?”

  My throat sticks so I nod.

  “Good. Let’s go then.” He hands me the other glass. “Here. Take a sip. Loosen up.”

  Almost an hour later, Ian sets the camera aside and holds his arms out to me. “You were wonderful.”

  I’m tired, what my mom calls “punchy.” I’ve had so many clothes on and off I’m not even sure what I was wearing last. But still I walk into Ian’s arms.

  “You’re beautiful and you mean everything to me. You make me so happy.” Ian smooths the hair on my forehead.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Now that you’re here with me and we’re together, I’m going to need more money to take care of us.” He tilts my face to his. “You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s a way you can help.”

  “Sure, but I can’t get a job.”

  “You can understand something instead.”

  “Understand? Understand what?”

  “I’m going to sell these pictures of you on the internet.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry. I can blur your face and we won’t use your real name. But Livvy, these are gorgeous pictures. You look like a model. People will pay, and that will help me. That will help us.”

  I’m confused. I didn’t like the idea of the pictures to begin with. But now they’ve been taken. And if they can bring in money because Ian has to pay for me too, maybe that’s a good thing. “No one will know it’s me?”

  “No one, I promise.”

  “And this is what you want?”

  “Yeah, this is what I want. It’s what we want.”

  I suddenly realize he hadn’t asked me if I was okay with this. He’d just announced he was going to sell the pictures. “Did you plan this all along?”

  “What I’d planned was a way for us to be together. That’s how much you mean to me. How much the two of us mean to me.” He kissed her lightly on her cheek. “Do we mean as much to you?”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “I mean yes. Yes, we’re important.”

  “That’s good. I think we’re ready to take the next step.”

  “Next step?”

  Ian hands me a pill and a glass of water. “Here. Take this.”

  I look at him.

  “Would I have you take anything that would hurt you?”

  I think about what he said and pop the pill in my mouth. I can’t imagine Ian ever hurting me.

  Ian turned his favorite music on. “Take your clothes off.”

  “I thought we were finished.”

  “No cameras now. It’s just you and me.”

  I strip off clothing. “What for?”

  “I want to make us both happy.”

  It’s called TraffickCam. People can upload photos of their hotel rooms to the app, along with the hotel they were taken at. The pictures are fed to a national database of photos from escort advertisements, many of which show images of workers in hotel rooms.

  —Here’s A Really Simple Way You Can Help Catch Sex Traffickers, by Ben Lawson

  for Newsy

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Donny logged into the chat site just as he’d done before and left the same message. “This is how I’ve always done it.”

  “Print that pa
ge for me,” Mex said to Donny.

  “So then what happens?” Darius asked as his fingers flew over his keyboard making notes.

  The sound of the printer kicked in.

  “He calls me,” Donny said.

  “And then?”

  “I send him photos and we negotiate a price.”

  “What did you get for Alexis?” Mex asked.

  “Twenty-five k.”

  Mex and Darius exchanged a look.

  “This poor excuse for a human being paid you twenty-five thousand dollars?” Mex asked.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “What did he do with her?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “What do you think he did with her?”

  “Probably sold her to a private party.”

  “For how much?”

  “I’ve heard of girls going for as much as half a million.” When Mex and Darius looked at him with incredulous expressions, Donny shook his head. “Damn, dudes, there’s a lot of people with money out there.”

  “And apparently a lot of them are sick-ass,” Mex said.

  “How can we find out who bought Alexis?” Darius asked.

  “Shit, man. Someone pays that much money for a piece has enough money to stay hidden,” Donny said.

  Mex clenched his jaw. A piece? Are you kidding me? Mex took a deep breath and prepared to unleash a few choice words.

  Mex felt Darius grab his arm.

  “I get that,” Darius said before Mex could express his outrage. “But there must be a way to follow the trail.”

  “Good luck with that,” Donny said. “You don’t think I tried to figure it out so I could cut out the middleman?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Mex said.

  “You don’t need to be so sanctimonious.”

  “Contact him,” Mex said. “Do it now. I’ll tell you what you’re going to say.”

  “I can’t man, he contacts me. That’s how it works.”

  Mex stood and paced the room, thinking out loud how the conversation would go down. He wanted to spur this thing forward, to be in control.