One Among Us

by Paige Dearth

  “Well, look what we have here,” Ernest, the most vocal of the pack, announced as he stepped closer to Maggie.

  His friends, Ivan, Damon, and Conway, gathered around the bed where Maggie lay in bondage.

  “Please,” Maggie uttered.

  “Oh, shit! It speaks,” Ernest said, laughing.

  “I’d suggest you shut the fuck up,” Conway said, leaning into her. “Otherwise, we’re gonna hurt you real bad.”

  Maggie was utterly helpless. She’d been through a lot, but being back in the hands of sex traffickers was more than she could comprehend.

  “I wish they hadn’t taken her clothes off,” Ivan said, slurring his words. “These dudes really blow. We told ’em we wanted her dressed. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

  “Did they put the bag in here?” Ernest grunted.

  “Yeah, that’s it over there,” Damon said, pointing.

  The four grown men had brought toys along with them.

  Ernest carried the bag over and dropped it at the foot of the bed. After unzipping the bag, he reached in and pulled out nipple clamps. Maggie’s eyes bulged as Ernest opened the clamps and placed them on her nipples. She resisted the urge to scream as the clamps dug deeply into her sensitive skin.

  Ivan began to grunt and clap rapidly. He bent over Maggie, grabbed the chain that connected the clamps, and gave a quick yank. Maggie let out a yelp as pain shot through her breasts.

  A moment later, Conway took a vibrator out of the bag and turned it on. Holding the vibrator against Maggie’s lips, he ordered, “Suck it, bitch!”

  Maggie hesitated for a brief moment, long enough to piss Conway off.

  “You fucking whore. I said suck it,” Conway yelled, shoving the vibrator into Maggie’s mouth.

  Maggie gagged when Conway pushed the device to the back of her throat. The four men watched in amusement as she tried her best to do what she was told. When Conway removed the vibrator and stepped away, Damon reached into the bag and then moved closer. Before Maggie knew what was happening, Damon had shoved a ball gag into her mouth.

  “That’s to keep you from distracting us with whatever whore bullshit comes out of that mouth of yours,” Damon told her.

  Maggie pleaded with her eyes and in return received a hard slap in the face from Damon.

  “Don’t even look at us, bitch. You’re not good enough to breathe the same air, you understand?” Damon seethed.

  Maggie nodded but went into a state of panic. Are these guys going to kill me?

  As the hours wore on, Ernst, Ivan, Damon, and Conway became more aggressive with Maggie. At first, they took turns having sex with her.

  Maggie lay still after they’d finished. Then Ernest grinned.

  “Time for some fisting. How about it, boys? Who wants this one?” Ernest asked.

  “Me!” Ivan called, moving quickly to Maggie’s side.

  Maggie watched as Ivan slathered gel on his hand. Then he inserted his fist inside of her. She arched her back, fearing that he was tearing her insides apart as he moved his fist in a circular motion. When Ivan finished, they used toys on her. The men took turns having sex with her again, and to Maggie’s disbelief, Conway gave Damon a blow job. These middle-aged men were harsh and kinky.

  During the torturous hours, Maggie tried to think about Seth and Juju, but the things the men were putting her through made it hard to focus on anything but her immediate pain.

  After five hours of sexual assault, Maggie hoped she would die. But instead, the four men stopped, packed their bag of toys, and left her tied to the bed, bloodied and bruised. Maggie’s body was limp and broken.

  To ease her sorrow, she thought about Seth and Juju, and hoped they were wondering where she was. As she remained still, staring up at the ceiling, a man named Brute entered the room.

  “Damn, girl, those fuckers are nuts. You gotta be beat,” Brute said jovially.

  Maggie’s eyes followed him as he cut away her bonds. Her arms and legs were exhausted from being tied for so long, and she was barely able to move them.

  Brute reached his hand out, and Maggie grabbed it. After Brute steadied her, he threw a blanket around her shoulders.

  “You’ll need a shower before your next client,” he sang, as if he was doing her a favor.

  Maggie hung her head. The thought of more torment was unbearable. She began to wobble. Brute put his arm around her shoulders to steady her, and Maggie began to cry.

  “None of that, now. You’ve got work to do, missy,” Brute stated as he led her to a bathroom with shower stalls.

  As Maggie let the warm water wash over her, she yearned for the bony fingers of death to take her away from her hell on earth.

  Chapter Eighty

  For the next month, Maggie’s nightmare continued. She no longer thought about getting away or going back to her old life. She preferred to think about death. But she couldn’t figure out how to kill herself. The traffickers were always around, always looking in on the kids or having sex with them between clients.

  Six weeks after Maggie was left at the warehouse, the traffickers told her to put on the clothes she’d been wearing when she arrived. Brute stood in the doorway of her room while she changed, and when she finished, he led her up a different set of stairs.

  Maggie looked around as she entered a large, dimly lit room.

  “Sit over there,” Brute instructed, pointing to a chair in the corner.

  As Maggie sat waiting and no one came, her anxiety grew. She hadn’t been in this room before, and she worried about what that meant. In the middle of the room, there was a bed, and at its foot was a tripod with a camera attached. She looked at the camera, remembering the first day of her captivity. The memories filled her mouth with sour bile.

  Forty-five minutes later, the door opened. Maggie held her breath. She gawked as Rock strutted into the room and gazed at her.

  “Ya like your new home?” Rock asked.

  “No,” Maggie said, starting to cry. “I want to go back with you.”

  “Oh yeah? Now all of a sudden ya like bein’ wit’ Rock, don’t ya?”

  Maggie nodded. “Please, Rock. Don’t leave me here. Take me out of here,” she pleaded.

  Rock rubbed his chin as he considered what she was asking. “I’m not sure. Ya might need a little more time to think ’bout what ya really want. I mean, ya haven’t been here that long, and well, I got me a couple new girls since ya been away.”

  What Maggie didn’t know was that Rock had negotiated a deal with Julius. In order to buy Joey for ten grand instead of twenty, Rock agreed to leave both girls there for six weeks to make up the difference. Rock believed it would serve two purposes: pay for the new kid for Thelma and tame Maggie. It had worked.

  Maggie stood and walked to Rock. When she was in front of him, she tilted her head and looked into his eyes. Then she slowly leaned in and kissed Rock. He responded as he parted her lips and drove his tongue to the back of her throat. Resisting the urge to vomit, Maggie willed herself not to pull away. When their kiss ended, Rock watched Maggie closely.

  “Please, Rock,” she whispered. “Please take me back home. These men are nothing like you. They’re vile and nasty. I’ll make you feel really good if you just take me out of here.”

  “OK, baby, Rock will take ya home,” he said.

  Rock took Maggie’s hand and led her out of the room. A few minutes later, they met with Julius in another part of the warehouse.

  “Where’s the kid?” Rock asked Julius.

  “Waiting down by the door. You can grab her on your way out,” Julius said.

  The two degenerates shook hands, and Rock led Maggie toward the exit, where they saw Joey waiting with one of the guards. As they approached, Maggie gave Joey a smile. Joey moved deliberately toward Maggie and stood next to her. Then the girl reached out and took Maggie’s hand.

  Rock watched them closely. Little bitch better cozy up to Thelma like she is with Maggie, he thought.

  Joey had light-brown, wavy hai
r that hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were the palest green Rock had ever seen. Beyond the intriguing color, he saw a fire there that made it impossible for him not to be drawn to her. She was as pretty as Maggie was, just a whole lot younger. He hoped Thelma would love her; otherwise the kid was in for some hard days.

  Oh well, Rock thought, that’s the kid’s problem. If Thelma doesn’t like her, Joey will just have to deal with it.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Outside the warehouse, Maggie and Joey quickly climbed into the backseat of Rock’s car. Once they were inside, Rock walked away from the car to talk to two men who were standing outside the door of the building.

  Relief washed over Maggie, and she began to relax. The thought of returning to Kensington thrilled her. She was determined to obey Rock and do whatever he wanted so he would never send her back to the sex traffickers again. At least being a prostitute in Kensington gave her some freedom. Besides, hooking on the streets was far less violent than anything she’d experienced in the last six weeks.

  Maggie looked over at Joey, knowing their time alone was limited.

  “Joey, we only have a minute to talk, so I want you to listen. You’re going to live with a woman named Thelma. You have to be strong and do what she tells you to do. Make sure you’re polite and offer to help her around the house. They’re going to send you to school. I’ll be there every morning before school to meet you. No matter what, you can’t let the guy that bought you—or his nasty wife—know that I come to see you. OK?” Maggie said in a rush.

  “Do you promise to meet me?” Joey asked, feeling a bond with Maggie.

  “Of course I promise. I’m even going to bring two friends with me, Seth and Juju. You’re going to love them. Just remember, I’m going to do my best to watch out for you. All three of us will,” Maggie stopped talking as Rock opened the car door.

  Rock threw two T-shirts into the backseat, “Cover your eyes,” he instructed. Maggie put Joey’s blindfold on and then her own. Rock started the car, and they drove off. Joey held on to Maggie for dear life. Her experiences with the sex traffickers left her hardened, yet she was still a frightened nine-year-old girl.

  A while later, Rock parked in front of his house. “Take the blindfolds off,” he told the two girls.

  Joey stretched to see out of the car window. She looked at Maggie. “Are we here?”

  “What’s this ‘we’ shit? Maggie, get your ass out of the car and get back to your house,” Rock barked, as he left the car.

  Maggie gave Joey a quick squeeze and whispered, “Be brave. That’s why I picked you; because you were the bravest girl in that shit hole.”

  Rock swung the back door open and waited while the girls got out. “Let’s go,” he told Joey.

  Joey was pouting when she walked into the house where Thelma was waiting. “Well, ain’t she just the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?” Thelma squealed. “Come over here and let me get a better look at you,” she said to Joey.

  Remembering what Maggie had told her, Joey walked over to the sofa and stood in front of Thelma. She wondered if there was something wrong with the lady. Thelma’s eyes were red and glassy. “Come on over here and give your mama a hug,” Thelma said, opening her arms.

  Joey was repulsed by Thelma’s metallic breath, a mixture of drugs, cigarettes, and lack of dental hygiene. Just do what Thelma tells you, she reminded herself. Joey leaned in, put her small arms around Thelma’s thick neck, and gave her a hug.

  “Aww, look at that Rock, the girl already loves her mama. Now, why don’t you be a good little girl and go into the kitchen through that door and fetch your mama a cold beer from the refrigerator?” Thelma said.

  Joey fumbled her way around the back of the house and found the kitchen. She pulled out a cold beer and returned to the living room. Joey handed the beer to Thelma.

  “See! Now that’s the kind of kid I like. She’s smart, Rock. Not like that fuckin’ idiot ya brought home last time,” she pointed out.

  “Good, baby. I’m glad you’re happy. I’m sure Joey is probably hungry. How ’bout if I go get us a pizza and we can sit down like a family and have dinner?” he asked in a charming voice.

  “Yeah, you go do that. While you’re gone, me and this little princess will get to know each other. Did she bring any clothes with her?” Thelma asked.

  “Nah. Just what she’s wearing. I’m sure ya got shit upstairs she can use,” he said.

  “Yeah, we’ll go up and see while you’re gone,” Thelma agreed.

  That night, while lying in bed, Joey waited for deranged men to come into her room as they had in the place she’d just left. To her relief, no men ever came. When she woke up in the morning, after sleeping through the night for the first time that she could remember, she looked around the small room, wandered out into the hallway, and found the bathroom. Joey already felt a sense of freedom. Her heart felt lighter, and she made her way downstairs to find Thelma passed out on the sofa.

  Joey walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the faucet, and then she walked quietly to where Thelma lay sleeping. Joey stood over the woman for only a brief moment before Thelma’s eyes bolted open. Startled, she sat up abruptly. “What the fuck?”

  Joey jumped back and met Thelma’s stare. Then she gave her a small smile. “I brought you a glass of water,” she explained, pushing the glass toward her.

  “Oh, thanks.” Thelma took the glass and guzzled the water. “Next time, don’t be sneakin’ up on me like that.” Thelma rubbed her temples with her fingers and looked up at Joey. “That was very thoughtful. Go on now and get yourself dressed,” she said, and reclined on the sofa again.

  Joey rushed up the stairs to her bedroom. She wondered if perhaps someday soon she would go to live with Maggie, the girl who helped get her out of that awful place where she was living. Joey allowed herself to feel hope, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe things will be different now, and I’ll get to live like other kids, Joey thought.

  But Joey had yet to see the real Thelma.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  It had been more than five years since Maggie was stolen from her family. Over the last year, Lorraine and Rob Clarke had become advocates for families of missing children.

  They had just returned from the city after sitting for hours with a couple whose child had been taken just two days earlier. Detective Harker went to see the Clarkes each time a local child went missing. They tried to visit as many people as they could, but work and taking care of Keith made it impossible to meet with everyone in crisis.

  “What’s going on in this world?” Lorraine finally asked, more to herself than to Rob.

  “I don’t know. But at least we’re doing something with our own loss. We’re helping people to cope. In a weird way, I find comfort in helping other people. I wish there was more we could do,” he said, feeling the enormity of other people’s losses on his shoulders.

  “Rob? Do you still wonder where Maggie is?”

  Rob let out a loud sigh. “I don’t know, Lorraine. I know you want to believe she’s still out there and someday we’ll find her, but I’m not so sure anymore. There are days when believing she’s dead is more comforting than hoping she’s alive.”

  “What do you mean? How can you think that way?” Lorraine asked desperately.

  Lorraine needed Rob to believe they’d find Maggie someday. His belief fed her own belief, and she wasn’t willing to give up hope that they’d see Maggie again. In fact, it was hope that kept her alive and functioning. Without hope, Lorraine was sure she would shrivel up and die.

  “Look, we’ve seen so much tragedy over the last year, all those parents and their missing kids. It just seems like we would have heard something by now. When I let myself believe that Maggie’s alive, then it tears me up to think about what’s happening to her. You heard what that little Smith girl said when they found her—she was tortured and starved. What if the people who took Maggie are doing the same thing to her? Ho
w can I get out of bed in the morning knowing my kid is suffering like that?” Rob asked.

  “The Smith girl was taken by a neighbor. He watched her for years. That sicko fantasized about her. Maggie wasn’t taken by a neighbor,” Lorraine debated weakly.

  Rob took his wife into his arms. “We don’t know that, Lorraine. The only thing we know is that she may have been abducted by sex traffickers,” Rob reminded gently.

  The two of them shared an unimaginable pain that only parents of missing children could know. All of the false leads that had given them temporary relief and optimism had led to dead ends. Then the cycle of grief and loss started all over again, as if it were the first day Maggie was gone.

  Rob pulled away first. “We need to eat something before Rae Harker gets here.”

  Lorraine nodded and went to the kitchen to make them sandwiches. Now that Rob and Lorraine were heavily involved in working with families of missing children, Rae stopped in once a month, sometimes more frequently, to find out what they were able to uncover from the distraught parents. It was often in the small details, which many families didn’t think mattered, that the police found their best leads.

  The Clarkes had just finished eating when the doorbell rang. Rae Harker greeted the couple and casually walked into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and took out a mug for coffee. For more than five years, Detective Harker had spent a lot of time with the Clarkes, and he was no longer a stranger in their home. He finally settled down at the kitchen table with Rob and Lorraine.

  “Well, something significant happened today,” Rae reported.

  Lorraine sat forward, leaning on her elbows with anticipation.

  “The Philly police busted a house where they found a dozen or so underage prostitutes.” He watched as Lorraine’s eyes widened, and he gently laid his hand over her wrist. “Maggie wasn’t there. However, the girls they found could provide us with more information on the other kids that have gone missing,” he stated.