by Deana Birch
The next voice I heard was that of a familiar judgmental woman. “She’s wasted.”
I glanced over my shoulder and tried to focus. Dr. McAllister—well, several doctor McAllisters, all equally foggy—stared at me with big green eyes.
Many Macs lifted their hands into the surrender position and cringed. “I may have given her too much of the benzo.”
“I fucking told you how much. Can you not follow simple orders? Christ.” As the doctor approached me, she came into focus. From the front pocket of her blue blazer, she took out a tiny light and flashed it in my eye while holding it open. “We can’t take pictures like this. Her pupils are dilated.”
I blinked away. The harsh light had stung. I prayed that Mac’s fuck-up had bought me time. Time for what, I didn’t know. They’d found Callie, but the damage had been done. And hadn’t mine, too? I was high and never wanted to be anything else.
“Give her something. Pep her up. She needs a shower and we need to get her picture online.”
The doctor shot one last disdainful look at her brother before a wicked grin, very similar to Mac’s, spread across her pale face. “As punishment for the drugs, you don’t get to touch.”
Mac laughed. “You can’t do that.”
She shrugged him off. “Covington has been blowing up my phone. You didn’t see how Leo protected her. One little pin drop and I bet I could get more from them than the cut you’re giving me.”
I’d never had a sibling to be a rival with, but it was obvious from this exchange that the McAllisters loved fucking with each other. I guessed that being a corrupt member of society started at home.
Mac stepped closer to his sister. “No fucking way is that happening. I had to let her junkie of a mother put her filthy hands all over me. I’ve been working this fucking thing since I laid eyes on her and knew Leo was lying. Get her functional and dressed, then get the fuck out.”
The doctor rolled her eyes, but Mac left us alone. He stomped into the other room and a wave of relief rippled over me, even though I didn’t think it would last.
Dr. McAllister rummaged through a bag until she found a vial and popped another needle. Once loaded, she held it in her teeth as she tied off my arm.
I’d had a mantra. I was sure I had. But words were pointless. A tear streamed down my left cheek. The needle punctured my vein and spirit at the same time. Everything I’d ever hoped to be, gone—more by the idea of drugs pumping through my veins than being abducted in plain sight.
She studied me as my eyes fluttered. A sharp focus took in all of my surroundings—the sour sick next to me, the cold, hard concrete floor below and the deep green eyes in front of me.
“Good. You’re back. Stand up and take off your clothes.”
I stared at her.
“Now, Fiona—unless you prefer I call for help.”
Even with my groggy mind, I understood. She would make things somewhat bearable, as long as I complied. It went against every fiber of my being, every ounce of pride and fight I had in me. But postponing the inevitable was my best option, not that time would help. A sliver of hope came to me and I quickly closed the door of my mind that had brought it. Callie had been different. I wasn’t in Bradford Towers. Mac was more devious. I wasn’t going to be raped for sport. I was going to be sold and raped for sport.
My feet were heavy. No part of me wanted to stand and do as she said. And yet, it was my best option. Fuck, I was partially grateful that I wasn’t fully conscious while witnessing the scene in front of me. And this was just the introduction.
“Stop stalling. Get up and get undressed. Option B is in the other room if you prefer.” She leaned back and looked into the other room. But instead of calling them in, she furrowed her brow then glared back to me. “Now.”
I reached for the buttons of my shorts and closed my eyes as I undid them. My luxury of choice had been ripped from me the minute I’d asked Leo for help. What fools we had all been for thinking my fate could be better than that of my mother’s.
I risked a glance at the doctor, who was pulling out items from a drawer and placing them on a high metal tray with wheels. I bet she couldn’t imagine that I was more than a body. Maybe that was what I needed to do, too. Just-a-body dropped my jeans to the cold cement floor and pulled off my tank top and undergarments.
Despite that fact that I was burning with embarrassment, I shivered.
“Shower.” The doctor pointed to the door next to the rack of clothes.
Just-a-body walked through the door and turned on the water in the small stall. It was just-a-body that scrubbed my skin raw and washed my hair with a bar of soap. It wasn’t me who rinsed my mouth several times and spat into the rusty drain below.
And I wasn’t there when the strawberry-blonde doctor came in without asking and handed me a flimsy towel. Me, Fiona? I was gone, replaced by a shell. The funny thing was that when I looked in the fogged-up, spotted mirror, I recognized the reflection.
It was my mother.
Chapter Twenty
Leo
Anton paced behind the couch while our broken crew dared glances in his direction. I’d gone down the hall to see Violet with my own eyes and get any and all the info that I could from Lisa, but it hadn’t been very fruitful. Fiona had dropped off the baby and not come back. I couldn’t imagine what she’d had to promise to get that small amount of mercy from Mac.
Rafa tapped the keyboard of his computer at a frantic pace. He snarled at the screen. “Fuck you, Jefferson Manors.”
“What?” Anton stopped his back and forth and frowned at Rafa.
“I can follow the SUV until they get to Jefferson. After that, all the traffic cameras are impossible to break into.” Rafa flipped the double bird to his computer. “They’ve hacked the city’s system, put their own shit up, fed it back to the city, then hidden the true feed in a jungle of code. It’s fucking brilliant.”
“Don’t worry. We’re working another angle,” I said to Rafa, then tapped my wrist to Anton. He wanted to let Mac get comfortable and cocky. Tick-fucking-tock, man.
The minion and Callie came through the door and she scanned the room for Scooter. She was smart enough to take cautious steps in our direction and wait.
When she stood in front of me, I knew my job as mouthpiece. “Jackson took Scooter to the hospital. We’ll update you when we know anything.”
She nodded and flicked her eyes to the floor. I exchanged a glance with Anton.
I stepped closer to her and tilted my head so she could see me. “We didn’t push you before because it was all fresh and we were just happy you were okay.” That was a small amount of bullshit. Anton didn’t really care about the girls we were protecting. He had too much criminal blood in him. Image and money were more motivating than being a good guy.
In a soft voice, I said, “But now we need to know every single detail of what happened between the time they took you and when we got you back.”
Callie blinked several times and her chin trembled. She grazed her bottom lip with slightly crooked teeth. “They laughed a lot—at my fear, my looks, my clothes. I kept thinking that if they hated me so much, why did they bother to take me?”
She rubbed her shoulder, perhaps an injury from the ordeal. In the brief break of her story, Anton and I exchanged glances.
“Did they drug you?” I asked, still trying to stay calm.
She shook her head.
Anton’s phone buzzed from his back pocket. When he saw the number, he motioned for me to follow him into his room.
“Hey, Ma. Leo’s here. Lemme put you on speaker.”
I closed the door to his bedroom then followed Anton into the bathroom, where I also shut us in. No one could know we were talking to his mother. Word on the street was that she was pissed at him for not being her heir-apparent. The truth was that she wanted him to have his own crew and grow a territory before she would give him the keys to their Cadillac crime family. They’d both agreed it was best to make a fake feud out of
it, insuring his independence. So him calling her for help had to be hidden, even from his top-level crew.
In her icy calm voice, Anton’s mom said, “All signs lead to her being trafficked. Communication went out this morning. Things have changed a lot since the last time Mac sold a girl, but remember, he hasn’t. He’s most likely taken her to his loft on the East side, which is both stupid and sloppy. Typical.”
“Callie was a decoy to make us think they’d take Fi there,” I said, more to myself than them.
Anton’s mother continued, “The good news is that she won’t be raped. Buyers of girls don’t like damaged goods. The sick fucks like to do that themselves. So she’ll only be drugged. I can get eyes on the warehouse if you want.”
“No.” Anton stared at me. “My crew, my problem. Send me the address.”
“Are you—?”
“Ma, I got this.” Anton rolled his eyes. If my stomach hadn’t been flipping at the thought that Fiona might have preferred to be raped than shot up with drugs, I would have taken that moment to give him a little shit for being a closeted Mama’s boy.
“You owe me dinner, at the very least.” Her tone made me shiver. I may have had a murderous hitman for a parental figure, but Anton? His mom could rip the soul out of a body with one cold, understated glance.
“Bye, Ma.” Anton hung up before she could say anything else. I admired his balls.
“As soon as we get the address, I’m going. I just need to run down to Nanna’s and get my gun.” And knife. I’d been craving my knife since the minute I’d seen Fiona’s mom on the couch. Fuck. Someone should probably deal with that.
Anton shook his head. “Then you’re the fucking hero again. It can’t go down like that. You fucking owe me. I gave you a place to stay, a fucking alternative to your brother. We had a deal.”
He was right. We’d absolutely had a deal. I would lie low by lying low, which I had not done. I’d shown my true colors to the upper crew by demonstrating how easy it would be for me to kick all of their asses. Then I’d offered up Fiona and snagged her right away. I’d made him look weak.
“What’s your plan then? We let him fucking sell her? She’s going to lose her fucking mind, thinking we’re not coming.”
“You heard my ma. She won’t get raped. We have time.”
I didn’t know what his plan was, but it sucked. I could be in and out of that fucking warehouse—wherever the fuck it was—in thirty seconds flat. All would be dead and I could carry Fiona to safety. Hell, I could maybe even light a match and toss it behind me like in a movie.
Then…then nothing. There would be no way I could leave her, no matter how I would find her. I hated Anton for having the big-picture view. But considering how many emotions I’d already attached to this—my fingers twitched for my knife again—it was safer to hear him out.
“What’s your plan, then?” I flared my nostrils. It was the only way for all the grumbling in my throat to escape.
“We buy her. Well, not us, exactly.”
Before I could object or hear more, Anton pushed past me. He slammed both his bathroom and bedroom doors open and called down the hall. “Rafa! Call the Hirotas. We need a middleman.”
I followed and, when I got to the kitchen, the minions were already buzzing about how happy they were that their leader had taken charge. Next to the counter, I stood silent. I wasn’t like any of them. I didn’t like to take orders or give them. I was a lone agent, by design and desire. Seeing Fiona again would only confuse the truth once more. Anton was right to have taken charge. Hell, he thrived on it.
The bossman walked over to me and patted me on the chest. “Have someone drop you off in midtown, then go get what you need. I’ll send you the time and location.”
His instructions went down like a jagged pill, but I swallowed it nonetheless. There was no point in taking anything from my room. I wouldn’t be wearing black, baggy jeans and a muscle tank with Frankie. My feet ached at the thought of dress shoes, and I was sure I could feel the noose of a necktie already strangling me.
But it didn’t matter. We would save Fiona and, with a little boost from my savings, she could have a fresh start.
“Who has keys and can drive?” I shouted to the crew.
A chubby kid stood and raised his hand. He looked to Anton for approval, and when he got the nod, we were out of the door.
I probably should have glanced back and taken in the last few seconds of my life in Covington Heights before manifesting my destiny. But that would have meant that I cared about any of the guys in that room. And the stark, honest-to-God truth was that I didn’t. The only thing that squeezed my heart was when I was waiting for the elevator and I thought about Violet behind Lisa’s door.
Saving Fiona meant saving that sweet little girl as well. Eyes on the prize, Ricci.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fiona
“Out.” The doctor pointed to the room I’d come from and the sour vomit wafted back as a reminder of my previous state. Worse, Mac stood next to the metal table with his arms crossed.
“We need to get her up on the site soon.” He propped his hands on his hips. “Every minute she’s here is one too long. Anton—”
“You’re focusing on the wrong one. I told you that before. Leo is more invested in her than Anton. His switch is going to flip. As soon as she’s sold, I’m getting the hell out of town. I haven’t—”
Mac stared at his sister. “What?”
She looked down at her pocket and pulled out her phone. “They’ve stopped calling. They know I’m here, which means they know it was you.”
The siblings shared a long stare before Mac said, “Well, it’s lucky for me that Anton and his mom are in some kind of Oedipean war. And if she was Leo’s, then chances are Anton won’t waste his time trying to find us. Get a dress on her. The bidding starts in seventy-five minutes.” He walked out and barked indecipherable orders to the BTs.
Dr. McAllister stalked toward me. “You heard him. Get dressed.”
My heart thumped in my throat. They were going to sell me. In less than two hours I would be the property of a stranger—and said stranger would abuse me, maybe murder me. I shook my head. And Violet… What would happen to Violet? “Please. I have a sister. I need to take care of her. You—”
“I,” she said, taking a step and leveling me with her horrible eyes, “don’t give a shit about you, your sister or your boyfriend. The more trash like you is off our streets, the better.”
I’d clawed my way through poverty only to come to the surface of a darker future. Even in my buzzed state, I understood that I was the only chance I had. I wanted to believe that Leo would find me, but the window of time for that was shrinking. The only person I could rely on was me.
I spat in her face.
The doctor wiped it off and slung it to the ground. “That? That was a mistake. Mac!”
I lunged toward the bathroom, but Dr. McAllister grabbed my wrist and twisted it behind my back. Pain shot up my arm and burst at my shoulder. I cried out and did my best to hold the flimsy towel with my free hand.
Mac ran into the room flanked by Justin, and he had a wicked grin on his face. He assessed the doctor and me, then said, “I do love it when they’re feisty.”
The driver appeared over Justin’s shoulder and licked his lips.
“Get her on the table and hold her down.” The doctor shoved me toward the men. I was defeated. There were four of them and I was one naked, shaking mess with tears streaking down my cheeks.
“No!” I screamed over and over.
The doctor let go of me as Justin took her place and pushed me to the table. I tried to fight, squirm and kick, but he had me in a bear hug, and before I could gain any sort of advantage, my face was being smashed into cold metal. Hands gripped my ankles and pushed against my kicking legs while Justin sat on my back, with his knees putting pressure on my arms behind me.
Cool air on my ass told me it was exposed, but being naked was the least of
my concerns. I continued to scream, but my cries were only met with wicked amusement. A sharp prick in the meat of my butt preceded a warm inner calm that began to spread throughout my body.
I continued to fight, but my screams switched to sobs, and once the pacifying heat hit the base of my brain, I forgot to cry. Someone flipped me over and lewd comments rang in my ears. The hard metal below me was a stark contrast to my soft body and blurred mind.
I could see why my mom liked to get high. It deadened all feelings. I floated above my body in a state where I didn’t have to think, because I couldn’t. There was no need to understand the reality I was living because hovering in a lost void wouldn’t allow me to witness truth.
Because truth was a nightmare. And if that truth seeped into my consciousness, I would be forced to face the fact that my life as I’d known it was over. So, much as I imagined my mother did, I bathed in the glow of the chemicals stirring their way through my blood. I welcomed the escape, cherished its deliverance and embraced its liberation.
If I was lucky, I could spend the rest of my life in the same state.
I drifted away and down a dark well of veiled relief. I told myself that it was okay to like where I was…what I was…who I had become.
It was the only gift I could give myself. A white lie for a dark future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leo
A light was on at Nanna’s brownstone, but it was just a security measure. No one had officially lived in her building for years and the city’s residents didn’t ask questions. I lifted up the flip-top of the security panel, typed in the code and the door clicked open.
Nanna’s house smelled like rosemary and lavender—one her perfume and the other her favorite herb. Frankie hadn’t changed her furniture, but someone had come in and cleaned. There wasn’t a speck of dust on her mantel and the soil was moist in her live plants.
I walked up to the first floor. Even in the bathroom at the top of the stairs, the tile shimmered and fluffy towels were hung in perfect lines. In the guest room, I flipped on the light and opened the closet. Sure enough, an empty duffel bag sat on the floor and was the perfect size. I slid my hand between the mattress and box spring until I touched the familiar and soothing wooden handle of my knife. A calm washed over me, and I couldn’t resist giving the weapon a small kiss.
