Like that ever worked.
High in the air, she stared down at Riya. Her best friend, the girl she suspected was truly her sister, and struggled with what to share, if anything.
The salty air blew her auburn hair away from her face and she wiped at the tears she blamed on the weather.
She didn’t want anyone to be hurt because she’d found out something they’d deliberately hidden.
The revised story was probably that Maggie and Archer met, dated for a short enough span of time neither of their friends were aware, and conceived Tawny.
Then he’d met Dalia and fallen head over heels in love. There was no doubt they were a couple deeply committed to one another, even now.
Unfortunately, that harsh truth left Maggie out in the cold. She’d been twenty-two, taken an uncharacteristic leap of faith, and been rejected.
Maybe not on purpose, but rejected all the same.
Tawny wondered what went through her mother’s mind the moment she decided to give Edward Ratliff a chance.
When she made the decision to cast aside her feelings for Archer, give him into Dalia’s care, and change direction.
Edward adored Maggie.
Tawny believed she’d loved him back. Her father either hadn’t known or hadn’t cared Tawny wasn’t his biological child because he’d been an amazing dad while she had him.
The sadness her mother experienced when Edward died was a testament to the love that grew between them over more than six years of marriage.
Each of the couples built a foundation meant to last. Their strong bonds of friendship and love provided a colorful environment where their children thrived.
Archer and Dalia were blissfully happy. Memories of Edward and Maggie’s life were picturesque and referred to fondly by all of them.
Nothing would be gained from voicing her suspicions to Riya or asking the adults in her life uncomfortable questions. In fact, it could change everything and not in a good way. The possible hurt and confusion weren’t worth the risk of satisfying her curiosity.
For a few minutes, she concentrated on burying the knowledge she probably shouldn’t have gone looking to find. Riya always told her she kept secrets better than anyone else.
Her doubts about her parentage would never go beyond her own mind. She made the promise to herself.
* * *
Making her way back to the ground, Tawny snuck up behind a distracted Riya and goosed her with both hands under her armpits.
The resulting blood curdling scream was totally worth the black eye her friend delivered out of reflex.
Read “Pushing the Envelope” by clicking here.
Permission to Come Aboard
Published Book
Miami - June 2000
“We need a break. Fuck if we don’t,” Shawn Clay said tiredly. His best friend, along with the rest of their team, pulled ten straight days on duty with little sleep and inadequate meals. “We’ve been doing this shit way too long.”
“No doubt. Sixteen years in this line of work is too much,” Gunner Cain agreed. “Any word yet from New York?”
Shawn shook his head. “They’ll be on lock-down for a few weeks. Waiting for that viper to strike again.”
“At least we got the kid out.”
It seemed the internet was connecting the worst aspects of humanity around the globe. While depravity and evil always existed, the ease of emerging technology made too convenient for the sewer dwellers to find each other.
Gunner was mentally and physically exhausted. He was tired of watching people commit atrocious acts and sick of the aftermath of broken bodies and destroyed lives.
“Let’s make an exit strategy.”
Shawn’s brows lifted. “Meaning?”
“We served our country. We can keep our fingers on the pulse of what’s happening without being surrounded, suffocated, by it day after day.”
“Retirement?”
“Not exactly. Let’s use the skills we’ve learned and turn it into a business. It’s time we start building lives. We deserve lives, Shawn. We’ve given enough. We’ve seen enough.”
For almost a minute, the man he’d known since he was fourteen stared through the safe house window to the brick wall beyond.
“We could do it. Keep our hands in when we’re needed.” Gunner didn’t reply, knowing Shawn needed to talk it through. “We have the knowledge and skills for a high-end security agency. Set it up and get some babysitting jobs. Somewhere we could start fresh.”
Shrugging, Gunner said firmly, “I’m sure as hell not going back to Kentucky.”
Their eyes met and they grinned. At the same time, they said, “Florida.”
Laughing, Shawn said, “Dude, you just want to fish.”
“It’s a bonus and you know you like the dating prospects.” They bumped fists. “Two years to pull back from death while we set it up. We take the team with us.”
“He’ll understand.” Shawn rubbed his hands over his face. “No way can I handle this level of horror much longer.”
“I’ll call him and explain. He’s been recruiting several teams like ours to work independently as needed. As long as we answer when he calls, I know he’ll get it.”
With a nod, his friend turned for the door to the safe house’s single small bedroom. “I’ll check on the kid.”
When Shawn disappeared, Gunner picked up the satellite phone. Dialing a number he’d memorized a few weeks after leaving the Navy, he waited as it worked to connect.
“Eklund.”
“Gunner.”
“How’s the boy?”
Exhaling slowly, he replied, “He saw his mother tortured and killed in front of him and almost ended up in her murderer’s custody. He’s silent right now and filled with rage.”
“I’m in discussions with his grandparents. I don’t want him killed the moment we let him out of our sight.”
“We have him covered. Be sure he’ll be protected.” Gunner paused. “My team needs to pull back, Elijah.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Too many years of wet work. When?”
“Two years. We’ll still be available if you need us.”
“You know I’ll call.”
“Yes. I need a chance to breathe and pretend to live a normal life. My men need it.”
“I don’t know what normal is but I don’t blame you.”
“Thank you.” The relief Gunner felt knowing his current life wasn’t all there would be was a tangible thing. “Let me know when you’re ready to move the kid.”
“I will. Excellent work by your team as always.”
“I’m glad we got him out.”
“There are many who never escape.” There was murmuring in the background. “I’ll call soon, Gunner.”
The line went dead.
Gunner spent ten hard years as a deployed Navy SEAL and six more in black ops scenarios that would likely haunt him forever.
At this point, he honestly wondered if he’d know what to do with a normal life if he tripped over it.
Read “Permission to Come Aboard” by clicking here.
Zero Tolerance
Thailand – February 2001
At age fourteen, Kikiama Espinoza had already lived an entire adult lifetime. She bore the last name of a man who was not her father to protect her from the man who was.
Born in the brothel where her mother worked for many years, she wasn’t sure a life other than what she lived existed.
When the woman who gave birth to her died the year KiKi turned ten, she was placed into circulation to reimburse the debts her mother supposedly left behind.
At the time, she could’ve passed for as young as seven.
The use and abuse she suffered over the course of four hellish years didn’t show on her face and her build ensured specific deviants continued to seek her out.
Synthetically hairless from her neck down and small-breasted, her clients believed her to be pre-pubescent.
Every month, new girls arrived at the brothel and the fat owner would examine them, often going as far as to have sex with them in front of the roomful of other hopefuls, and decide if they were worth the asking price of the faction who kidnapped them from anywhere and everywhere.
On the days of the auction, KiKi hid on the staircase leading down to the basement. She was determined to escape and she believed her answer would come from someone outside the sex shop in which she lived.
She’d been right but not in the way she once imagined.
A group of women and girls were herded down into the basement from the outside entrance, blindfolded and handcuffed. The owner walked among them, stripping away the blindfolds and opening the hospital gowns they’d been given to cover their nakedness.
They were all ages, nationalities, and builds. He degraded them, laughed at their tears, and beat them if the whim took him.
He stopped in front of a girl and rubbed his groin. She was small with blonde hair. KiKi estimated her to be somewhere between nine and ten. Her eyes stared blankly and it was clear she’d already endured all the trauma she could bear.
The fat man reached out to touch her privates and KiKi bolted from her hiding place on the stairs.
“Please buy her for me, Poga! We will show you much pleasure.” Wrapping her arm around the small girl’s shoulders, she forced a smile. “Imagine the money you will make on us as a pair.” Gently petting the blonde hair, she sighed. “Let me clean her up and you can come to us when you finish.”
The grin of the brothel owner showed blackened teeth. “Take her with you.”
Carefully guiding the girl toward the stairs, she covered her body with the gown. Blood stained it and KiKi almost vomited at the life she did not ask for and would kill to escape.
Upstairs, she put the girl in the tub and knelt beside it. “Look at me.” Snapping her fingers in front of her eyes, she spoke sharply. “If you want to escape, we have to work together. Come back or we’re both going to die.”
Blinking, the girl turned her face to look at her. “I’m KiKi.”
“I’m…Irena.”
“We have to get you cleaned up and you have to help me.”
“Help you with what?”
“I’m going to kill that fat bastard.”
“Okay.”
“No matter what, play along. I’ll get you out of here and back to your family.”
Tears filled the girl’s eyes. “They died.”
Inhaling carefully, KiKi nodded. “Then we’ll figure it out. You do not want to stay here.”
Shaking her head, the girl began to scrub her body violently.
Racing into the other room, KiKi found clothes for the girl to wear and threw her few belongings in a slouch bag.
Beneath her dresser, she detached the picture of her mother standing with a man. A gorgeous man with blonde hair, green eyes, and a black heart.
On the back, Iniko wrote his name for the daughter she gave birth to when she was barely thirteen. When he returned years later to take his property to America, she hid KiKi’s existence.
As she hugged her goodbye, her mother pressed the photo in her hand and whispered, “Keep it hidden.”
It spoke volumes that Iniko felt her daughter was safer in a Thai brothel than going with the man. They knew they’d never see each other again. Because of the man in the photo. A fucking john who purchased her mother like a slave.
Within a year, her mother was dead. She stared at the handsome face of evil, years of rage bubbling up inside her.
Her true father. The man KiKi planned to kill one day.
Standing in the room where she’d serviced too many sweating, deviant men to count, she made a vow to herself. “I will never allow another man to take from me without exacting justice.”
From inside her bedframe, she removed a blade she’d slowly made from metal hangers. With the tiny tool she used to repair the jewelry of the other women in the house, she’d fused the metal together and sharpened the tip to a wicked point. She slid it beneath her pillow and hid the bag under her bed.
There was a banging on the door and Irena appeared from the small bathroom.
KiKi’s voice was cold. “We escape or we die.”
The girl nodded. “I’d rather die than have another one touch me.”
Opening the door, she smiled and welcomed Poga into her space. “We waited for you. I want to play with you first so she can watch. Then you can have her.”
“I want you both all night. No other clients for you.”
“Did you tell the men? I don’t want us to be interrupted. We have so much planned.”
He nodded, licking his lips and working his pants loose. She walked him back toward the bed as she pulled her t-shirt over her head.
Cupping her tiny breasts, she murmured, “Lay down so I can ride you.”
He did and shoved his pants past his hips. She slipped her leggings off her body and tossed them away.
Crawling up his body, she forced herself to kiss him, to press her panty-covered privates against his filthy length, so she could wrap her fingers around the makeshift knife.
His hand was inside the cotton, gripping her ass and trying to move the fabric so he could push inside her.
“I need to come quickly, girl.”
Irena climbed up on the bed and sat on her knees.
KiKi lifted and rocked her body against him. Then she bent over his torso, smiled, and stabbed him in the throat. It was shocking how easily the metal slid through his flesh.
He gurgled, gasped, and thrashed violently. KiKi twisted her flat creation to widen the hole. When she pulled the makeshift blade out, Irena covered his face with a pillow, pressing down with all her slight weight.
“Stab him in the heart. He has to die quickly,” she whispered. Lifting the blade above her head, Irena shook her head. “It won’t go through the bone. Go up under the ribs.” Growling, she whispered, “That’s how they killed my father.”
One hard shove and Pogo’s thrashing stopped instantly.
The two girls were still. They got off the bed and rolled the man over, covering him with another blanket.
“It won’t fool his men for long.” Then KiKi murmured, “Clean up. Dress in comfortable clothes. I left them on the chair. We only have little slippers but they’ll have to do.”
Ten minutes later, they were ready to go. KiKi brushed Irena’s hair carefully and pulled it back into a tight bun at the base of her neck to match her own. She wanted them to present small targets and both could pass as boys from a distance.
Staring at their reflection in the mirror, she explained, “If we’re caught, we will be tortured, raped, and killed.”
“Don’t get caught. If we are, kill me before they can.”
“Done. Quietly now.”
She opened the door, took Irena’s hand, and stepped into the hall. Pulling it closed silently behind them, she walked to another door twenty feet away.
Stairs inside descended to the kitchen. Waiting in the shadowed corner until one of the helpers unlocked the back door to take trash, they slipped out behind her and went still in the filthy darkness beside the dumpster.
The woman threw away her garbage and returned to the brothel. Instead of guiding the girl to the alley exit, she helped her climb the fire escape next door.
Over the edge of the roof, she crawled forward and peered over the side. Pointing, Irena’s eyes widened at the men stationed at the street and the car that waited there with men inside.
Finger over her lips, KiKi retreated to the other side of the building and jumped a few feet to the one beside it. For almost an hour, they traveled rooftop to rooftop.
It was slow and Irena understood the need for silence.
As the sun began to rise, far in the distance, they heard an air horn in three short bursts.
KiKi hustled the girl inside a small storage shed on a roof. “We stay here until dark. If you need to pee, squat in the other corner. We can’t worry about being clean.”
For three days, they wove their way through the city. KiKi stole food for them, they used the clothes in her bag sparingly, and eventually, they made it to the tourist district.
It was an area that catered to wealthy visitors from around the world. KiKi sought a particular man for very specific reasons.
He was KiKi’s best client and she knew he’d be able to get them out of the country. An American who spent much of his time traveling back and forth between the continents for business. His travels enabled him to seek out his personal kinks and indulge in otherwise illegal activities.
Entering his hotel room, she twisted him up and promised the use of her body throughout the trip.
“When we get to America, you can also have my friend. We will perform for you. Take care of you in ways you have only dreamed about in the dark of night.”
“Why can’t I have you both now?” he whined.
“Because I’m a whore and I know my value. Safe passage with partial payment. The remainder when we arrive.”
Ultimately, he agreed. They were smuggled aboard his private plane in his luggage. He took as much as he could from her on the transcontinental flight and she allowed it, telling Irena to face away.
The blonde shook her head. The girl who lost everything for the sick pleasures of such men never uttered a single word.
Later, her lifelong friend explained, “If you were forced to endure his touch in payment for both of us, I could damn well watch it. I needed to remember all you did for me.”
* * *
Houston
At his home, the oilman hustled them through the garage. His excitement to have them both was palpable.
“I gave the servants the day off. No one will be here until tomorrow. We have all day and night to play.”
KiKi had no doubt he intended to get his fill them before either having them killed or selling them to a local sex trafficker.
She maintained her persona of innocent girl. “We need to shower,” KiKi told him. “You should join us.”
The Barter System Companion: Volume One Page 6