I give the signal to my men to move in and place my hand on my gun while Skid moves to open the door. As soon as the door opens enough to allow me entrance, I move through it, ready to face anyone who might be on the other side with Coal and Big Jim right behind me. Coal moves on to his part of our mission, while Big Jim helps me engage our enemy.
Immediately, the guards jump up on the other side of the room where they were lazily sitting around a table. They reach for their weapons in a scramble, but I won’t give them a chance to save their own sorry asses. I fire off shots in rapid succession as we fully enter the room, trying to aim high to avoid hitting one of the victims in the cages, which are on the floor between us and our targets.
Simultaneously, as Big Jim and I lay down cover fire, Coal and his team move to the stairwell on our immediate left. They disappear as silently as wraiths up the stairs in an attempt to surprise anyone above them.
My focus never moves off the men in front of me as part of my team rushes in through the door behind us. Moving forward, I remain focused on our targets.
We manage to take two of the four guards out quickly while the other two duck for cover. Dipshit number one tries to hide behind a concrete pillar. The few girls not drugged beyond oblivion cry out in fear, although most of them are tucked in the corners of their cages, unresponsive to the chaos. Dipshit number two has crouched behind one of the crates, using a helpless woman for a shield. By the frantic movements of his hands, I can tell his clip has jammed, giving me the opportunity to move in on him. Just as I get to him, Rocks fires and takes out dipshit one.
With my gun trained on dipshit two, he moves from hiding. Face to face with me, the man shows no fear.
My brothers begin moving the crates as the women start to panic. One by one, my men are passing the still caged women out of the room to Hammer. Soon, they will be moving safely away from this hellhole we have rescued them from. I don’t let myself relax, though. There is still work to be done here by moving up the floors until one of us takes out Sandoval, ending his little empire of selling drugs, weapons, and flesh.
“This is bigger than you and your team of heroes,” Dipshit two says to me with a sick smile. “Kill me. You won’t end this. You won’t find them all.”
Disgusted with his apparent twisted pleasure in the threat, I lunge at him, surprising him before he can put his hands up to defend himself.
I grab him by the throat and shove him backwards until his back is against a cement pillar before I pin him in a choke hold. Ignoring his gurgles and gasps for air, I growl. “Mark my words, asshole, since they’ll be some of the last you ever hear. If it’s the last fuckin’ thing I do, I will shut this setup down and every single person involved in it. I’m not who you think I am.”
Grabbing the front of his shirt, I shove him forward and he stumbles. Fighting against my hold, I maneuver him in front of me and start walking towards the service elevator. This way, I can approach upstairs from a different entrance point. I plan to use the piece of shit as a human shield, just as he tried to do with the helpless woman he hid behind.
“You won’t take me alive,” he yells, ripping himself out of my grip before lunging at Rocks and grabbing for his gun.
There is a shuffle between them as I train my gun on the Cuban scumbag. My finger tightens on the trigger the second I know I can take a shot without hitting my man.
Pop.
The sound of the weapon firing rings out as both men go deathly still. Rocks stares his attacker in the eye, unflinching and uncaring, as we all watch dipshit two fall to the ground. The blood quickly starts to pour out of him, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he took the bullet and not my brother. No matter how skilled the soldier, you can never be a hundred percent sure when taking that kind of shot, and sometimes the choice is taken out of your hands in the name of necessity. It was either take the shot or risk Sandoval’s man taking control of Rock’s gun and ending his life.
Tying the gravely injured man to the pillar to bleed out, we leave him behind and move to help load the last girls before moving on. I might have been ready to head upstairs a few seconds ago with my hostage, but the faster we get these girls out of here, the sooner we know we can move on. It also ensures we aren’t worrying about whether or not Hammer has been able to get them transported to safety. We can’t take the chance that one of the subjects Coal is engaging upstairs might make his way down here and sneak up on my men.
Once we load the last crate, I bang the back of the van for Hammer to pull off so the other two vans can switch places and be ready to pick us up.
Just as I am making my way to the stairwell entrance, Coal is exiting it with a gun pointed at Sandoval’s head.
“You and your band of brothers come here for what, Ice? I should have known that a bunch of low class bikers would betray me, steal my stock, and try to take over my business.” The venom in his voice rolls off my name.
“I’m not here for your fucking business; I’m here to shut you down,” I respond coldly.
Shock crosses his face. “I underestimated you and your club.”
“No, you misunderstood our objective.” He looks at me inquisitively. Unwilling to explain myself, I end our pointless conversation with a promise. “You’ll soon understand.”
Hammer pulls up to us, and Coal pushes Sandoval into the van then gets in beside him. Big Jim climbs up and immediately starts to restrain our captive with zip ties under Coal’s watchful eyes. Hammer rounds the van, letting Skid take over driving that vehicle, while I hop in the front passenger seat, leaving Hammer to do clean up in the hotel. Rocks left with his team in the other van after loading the last girls. Hammer and his team will finish up and meet us later.
We take off and round the corner of the parking garage. As we do, a black sedan roars past us, entering the facility. I yell out Hammer’s name into our comm. link, trying to warn him of the incoming threat.
Tires squeal.
Sandoval laughs.
The feed in my ear piece crackles.
“I’m down,” Hammer’s voice croaks through the line.
Morgan
Brooke and I spend the day around the house. I called in to work and used my last personal day. Not working sucks, but honestly, with Madyson missing, there is no way I can do my job well anyway.
Later in the day, my phone rings, the screen displaying Blocked Caller. Hmm … maybe it is for Madyson?
“Hello,” I answer timidly.
“Morgan Powell?”
“Yes.”
“This is Screech. Ice wants you to meet him at Coal’s house. I’ll be sending you the address.”
“How do I know this is really from him?” My chest tightens as my anxiety rises. How do I know these instructions are really from Ice? What if this is some kind of lure from whatever mess my sister is in? Ice is the only person I would trust with this kind of order, and he’s not the one on the other end of the line.
“There is no time to explain, just be at the address I’m sending you as fast as you can,” the man replies in a rushed, brusque tone.
When the call disconnects, rather than wonder who he is and whether this is real, I dial Ice.
“No time for fuckin’ explanations. Get your ass to Coal’s place.”
Call ended. No hello, no goodbye. The asshole is securely back in place. What is going on?
My emotions are all over the place as I quickly get ready to leave. As the text comes through with the address, I’m in the living room ready to go, and Brooke comes around the corner from the kitchen.
“Where are you going? Are you coming back here?”
“I have to go to Coal’s house,” I answer as I speed walk towards the front door.
“Wait!” she calls out. “I know Coal. He’s my dad’s Vice Prez. Can I come with you?”
“Sweetie, I don’t know if it’s safe or what this is about. I promise to call you, okay?” If I knew what had Ice so on edge, I would know better whether it is safe for Brooke t
o come. However, having so much up in the air and unknown, I don’t want to put her at risk in any way.
I leave the house quickly, not giving Brooke the chance to argue. Jumping in my car, I race to the unknown address, praying this is good news instead of more bad. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news.
I grip the steering wheel tightly in my hands, my knuckles turning white as my mind goes in circles. My nerves are frayed, and I am barely hanging on. If it were not for Ice helping me these past few days, I think I would have completely lost my mind by now.
Pulling up to the address, I am unprepared to find Ice pacing out front of a nondescript gray home with black shutters in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood. There is almost a dreary aura to the house that sends a chill of foreboding up my spine.
Before I can think further of how the house borders on depressing, he is at my car door, yanking it open before I can get myself unbuckled. Seeing the look on his face, I start to prepare for the worst. As soon as I am out of the car, I am in his arms, shaking, scared out of my mind.
“My sister,” I whisper as my fear escalates.
“She’s inside. She’s alive, but they drugged her. Doc is waiting on you to examine her. I gotta go. Coal and the boys will keep you safe; they’re on a rotation. I have to get to the hospital. I’ll see you around.” He pulls away.
“Hospital?” I question as my mind tries to absorb everything happening around me.
“Hammer was hit by a car. I gotta check on him. Then I have work to do. Go inside and be there for your sister. She’s gonna need you. Brooke can come see her after she’s detoxed. Coal will be in and out, but let him be. If you need anything, ask one of the other guys. They’ll get it for you.”
Before I get another word out, he kisses me briefly then takes off to his motorcycle. Once again, I am left wondering… what the hell happened?
Chapter
17
Morgan
Entering the house, I ignore everything about my surroundings as I race to the first bedroom where I can hear screams coming from. I stop dead in my tracks when I reach the doorway, shocked still at the sight. My heart feels like it drops to my feet and my stomach rolls. Nothing could have prepared me to find my baby sister thrashing around in a bed so wildly that she has to be restrained by the woman at her side. My gaze is frozen on my, obviously suffering, little sister as something inside of me breaks.
“It hurts so bad. Make the hurt go away,” she cries out.
“Are you Morgan?” the petite woman holding my sister asks.
“Yes. Do we need to take her to the hospital?” I ask, feeling inadequate to tackle this. How in the hell do I help Madyson through this?
“Sure, if you’re ready to answer a bunch of questions you don’t really have answers to.”
I come out of my shock at her tone. “Who are you?”
“Dr. Constance Thompson, personal physician for the Regulators Motorcycle Club.” She extends her hand in greeting.
“Dr. Thompson—”
“Connie, just call me Connie or Doc,” she cuts in as she cautiously backs away from the bed, since Madyson seems to have temporarily calmed down.
“What can you tell me?” I whisper, not wanting to take the chance that my sister may be able to hear or understand what we’re talking about.
“I didn’t want to exam her until you were present, since she does have family. She is going through the withdrawals of a cocktail they were drugging the girls with. I think heroine is involved, but I’m not sure what else they used. I need to give her a sedative then restrain her, for her safety and my own, to exam her.”
I nod my head then make my way over to Madyson’s side. Reaching out, I touch her hand, and she immediately recoils at my touch.
“Madyson, sweetie, it’s me, Morgan.”
“It hurts. Please, I’ll do anything to make the pain stop. Anything!” she pleads, reaching up to clutch my shirt with her hands. My heart crumbles into a million pieces.
“Does she know where she is or what happened?” I ask the doctor, scared out of my mind.
“Most of the women that were recovered with your sister seem to be suffering some sort of memory loss. It’s hard to tell. We will do a soft detox where she is given medication to wean her off slowly.”
The doctor comes over, and together, we tie Madyson’s arms to the bed with soft wraps. Doc administers the sedative, and we both wait to see what happens. Once Madyson relaxes into whatever oblivion she has gone into, Doc Thompson begins her exam.
While she draws tube after tube of blood, she explains it is to test for whatever chemicals are running through Madyson’s system as well as any diseases she may have contracted. When she packs the tubes of blood away into her bag, she then opens her kit and removes a sterile speculum from it. I cringe, knowing what is about to happen and dreading that my sister has to endure this, even unconscious. I have had my annual physical at the gynecologist, and virgin or not, the device is not comfortable.
Turning my head away, I refuse to watch as she continues her exam of my sister’s girlie parts. I hate that we have to test Madyson like this while she is out of it. It seems wrong somehow, though I also realize it is necessary.
My need to help along with my need to know causes me to finally ask, “Was s-she …” I stammer over my words before I can continue. “Was she violated?”
“Vaginal scarring and tissue abrasions in the anal area as well lead me to believe that, yes, indeed she was. Also, her hymen is no longer intact if she was a virgin.”
In my haze, I only hear snippets after that. The doctor explains the withdrawal symptoms Madyson will likely have. Abdominal and body pain. My mind scoffs, Of course she will have pain in her body. She was raped. Nausea. Something about keeping the trashcan handy in case she gets sick. I would get sick to my stomach, too, if I was raped. Sweating, chills, anxiety, paranoia, insomnia, weakness, and irritability. Is the doctor really talking withdrawal symptoms here? These all sound like things I would expect if I knew I had been raped.
She continues talking, now about the course of treatment that is needed as I zone out almost completely. I am vaguely aware that a tear is sliding down my face, but in a way, I don’t really feel it. Moving to the edge of the bed, I sit down numbly while Doc Thompson dresses Madyson and reapplies the restraints.
My sister was raped.
My sister was drugged.
My sister was raped.
The ugly marks on her body make the abuse she endured evident and tell a heartbreaking story in their own silent way.
My sister was beaten.
The large, ugly, black and purple blemishes on the insides of her thighs that resemble hand marks speak of horrible, violent acts she may never recover from.
My sister was raped.
It plays on repeat in my head as I feel myself start to shut down entirely.
“Hey, hey!” a commanding voice says sharply as fingers snap right in front of my face. “I know this is a lot to process. She needs you, though. You have to pull yourself together and be strong for her.”
Thoughts swirl inside my head like crazy. “Will she remember it?” I whisper while inside I beg, plead, and pray, if there is any mercy in this world, that she won’t have any recollection whatsoever of the nightmare she has endured.
“Whether she does or doesn’t remember, there are some great support groups and counseling available to her.”
Counseling. We could all use some of that.
“Madyson, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly to my sister as I lie down next to her while the doctor packs up.
Now, more than ever, I am determined to be the support system she needs. There is no way I will fail her as I have done in the past. She has become everything to me, and I will do whatever it takes to show her she does not have to walk the path ahead of her alone.
I hear the doctor leave the room, shutting the door behind her; however, I don’t take my eye
s off the battered and broken girl in front of me.
Seeing her like this, after days of worrying where she was and what was happening to her, is a dream come true turned into a nightmare. I would give anything, including my own life, to spare my sister what she has endured.
Now I am going to dedicate my life to being whatever it is she needs.
Ice
Getting to the hospital doesn’t come fast enough as we had lose ends to tie up from this whole ordeal.
Coal has tucked away Sandoval and two of his associates we extracted alive at a secure location in three of the very same cages they had held their captives in. We will interrogate them later. For now, though, they are off the streets. Priority one is to follow up on Hammer’s condition.
After his distress call, we phoned nine-one-one which brought in all the shields to swarm the area. Coal and Skid took off with Sandoval so we could keep our cover that he wasn’t there.
Hammer was airlifted to a trauma hospital on the other side of the city. Knowing the driver is a low ranking man, we kept him contained for the cops. Even on Sandoval’s payroll, he won’t get off. Our connections run deeper than his boss’s pockets. In prison, he will get shanked after he spends a few months suffering for his crimes.
With the dead bodies littering the building, of course the police had a few questions. Did we have the necessary permits to carry concealed weapons? Myself and each of my men there all showed them our permits as an answer. Why were we on private property? As they eyed us warily, hands on their holstered guns, ready to pull them on us if need be, I made one quick phone call to our man up top to explain our situation.
Less than five minutes after I hung up, the lead officer’s radio squawked, informing him he needed to call his on duty Watch Commander. I watched as the man, looking confused, stepped away from us and dialed his phone. He spoke into it, listened, and then said something else back, looking very frustrated. Then all of the color drained from his face.
Hanging up the phone, he ordered the other officers to leave us alone and to start processing the crime scene. He then informed us we were free to leave.
Ice Page 13