Protector: City of Sin

by Jenny Lynn

  I felt my blood run cold. If there was someone that Bishop thought was dangerous, someone who had benefited from his training, it was definitely bad news.

  “I heard that Axel is working directly within organized crime. He doesn’t have any loyalty, he goes to the highest bidder. But it’s not the money he cares about. He’s gone off the deep end, Beckett. He’s a killer, a sadist. Rumor is he enjoys hurting other people. Innocent people.”

  I asked the question, even though I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew the answer.

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “From what I’ve heard through my sources, I believe Axel is currently in Vegas, working under the alias Shadow. You might come across him during your… activities. If you do, Beckett you need to be careful. He isn’t the person you remember him to be. He has no honor, his only goal is to maim, torture and kill. He’s lost his mind, like a rabid animal. If you find him, we both know what needs to be done.”

  I clenched my fists and nodded. It was so much worse than I thought. If Axel was the Shadow, trained by Bishop, he was more than dangerous, he was lethal. Bishop was former special ops, had pulled off missions that were considered suicide for anyone else. Ever since he struck out on his own, he had used his experience to reform violent boys into useful men. Men who used their skills to protect, to enforce, to direct their anger into something that had a purpose. Bishop’s students may not always operate within the law, but he taught us to follow a code. That was the price we paid him for our redemption.

  “I’m sorry to drop this on you,” Bishop sighed, looking more weary than I had ever seen my mentor appear. The monster he had created clearly cast a long shadow, blocking out the promising light Bishop had given to my life and for others like me.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Bishop gave me a small nod then walked past me, signalling the end of our conversation. He said what he had to say, and now he was done. He wasn’t a fan of talking more than was necessary. I followed him out, down the hallway, where Shane was seated at the counter drinking a second bottle of water.

  “It’s time to go,” Bishop told him.

  The boy got to his feet without argument. He was calmer now after a fight, his chaotic energy spent - for now. They walked together towards the elevator. For a brief moment, a knowing look passed between Bishop and I. Already the news he had delivered was weighing heavy on my mind. When my mentor and his new pupil disappeared from my sight, I rushed immediately for my phone. Still no word from Ella - my worry was dissolving into panic. I called her phone - straight to voicemail. I called the paper and when it went to reception, I cleared my throat.

  “I’d like to speak to Ella James.”

  “I’m sorry, but Ella didn’t come in today. Can I take a message?”

  My mouth turned dry as every possible scenario played itself out in my mind. Ella was in trouble, I was sure of it. I needed to find her, but not knowing where to start, it was like trying to track down a ghost. I hung up as the receptionist repeated her offer, dropped my phone, and suddenly felt the most desperate kind of helplessness I had experienced since my parents were killed.

  13

  Ella

  After everything I had been through in my life, I was never a particularly religious person. I didn’t believe in heaven and hell, or in karmic punishment. How could I? But that was before I found myself in this place. Before I was dragged into what could only be hell on earth. This cell, our prison, was dank and stale. In the far corner by the damaged toilet, water dripped a constant drumbeat against the floor, leaking through a crack in the wall to who knows where.

  I was laying on my back, listening and thinking. I was trying to figure out a way to get out of this situation, but nothing came to mind. We were trapped in here like animals by men who had clearly done this before. How many times? How many women? I shuddered at the thought. Only monsters could treat human beings this way. Like property.

  Caroline turned over on her mattress across from me. Her eyeliner was smudged, adding to the dark circles blooming under her eyes. She didn’t deserve to be here, none of us did. But how many women were there, in total, and what was going to happen to us? When would it happen? If they opened the doors and I ran, how far would I get?

  “You can’t sleep?” Caroline asked me.

  I shook my head. She sat up, wrapped her musty blanket around her shoulders for added warmth.

  “I couldn’t at first either, I screamed for hours at the door. I pleaded to be let out, to go home. I don’t know what it was, but piece by piece they broke me. Ella, we’re not escaping. We need to accept that.”

  I shook my head again. “I’ll never stop trying. They’ll have to kill me. I won’t be sold, I won’t let another man touch me.”

  Caroline’s expression softened and she frowned slightly. “Did you have someone? A boyfriend?”

  As soon as she said the words, Beckett came into my mind. His voice, his face, memories of his touch. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest and my eyes watered. I looked down at my hands in my lap and slowly nodded.

  “Do you want to talk about him?”

  “I never knew I could feel the way I do with him. He completely changed my world, he changed me. He knew the way I sometimes did my job was dangerous, and he worried about me, but he never treated me like I wasn’t strong. He took me seriously. We were so happy together. It can’t be over, not like this. I can’t bear the thought that I’ll never see him again. He was my… I love him.”

  “I’m sorry Ella. I didn’t have anyone like that, it was hard to date working as an escort. Instead I focused on school, seeing my friends, visiting my family for the holidays. Everyone in here, everyone they took, they took all of us away from the people who loved us. We need to be strong, for whatever comes next.”

  “And what would that be?” I balled my fingers into fists, so that my dirty nails dug into the flesh of my palms. “What kind of men would even want to buy women like this? No one who is normal, no one functional. Sick people are going to pay for us, then they’re going to do who knows what.”

  “I’ve been paid for before, Ella,” Caroline sighed. “Men typically want just one thing. If we give it to them, maybe they won’t hurt us.”

  “That was still by choice!” I shouted. “You have got to see the difference. You chose to be an escort, but that doesn’t mean you’re only worth what someone will pay for you. You deserve better - every woman in here does. Don’t let them convince you otherwise because you’re an escort, Caroline. You matter. I matter. I’ll fight anyone who tries to touch me with every ounce of my strength. That’s something I shared with Bec-with the man I loved. No one else.”

  Caroline’s eyes went wide and she dropped her voice to a whisper.

  “Was he the only man you’ve been with?”

  I nodded and she shook her head with pity.

  “Oh, Ella...” she stood up and came over to my mattress. She wrapped an arm around me, sitting close, and I accepted the offer of comfort. I leaned against her, my heart breaking for what was to become of me. What was going to happen to us, with no way to stop it. I had no more tears to shed, my mouth was dry and dehydrated. But the pain still hit me in fresh waves, making me tremble against my cell mate.

  A bang at the door caused us both to jump. Our eyes moved towards the heavy metal as it creaked open, a man was standing there. He looked around, then gestured for us to follow him. When we didn’t move he stepped into our cell.

  “You can either come with me, or I’ll drag both you worthless whores out by your hair. Your choice.”

  I looked from the man to Caroline, then stood nervously on my feet. She followed my lead, holding onto my hand. Together we walked out the door, where four other men were standing and waiting for us. It was my first glimpse of the space beyond our cell door. This many men for two half-starved women felt like overkill - the pathetic pigs.

  “This way,” he gestured. The short man from before was nowhere i
n sight. Slowly we walked down a long corridor, bare light fixtures screwed into the wall every few feet. There were no windows, it was dark and cold. I figured we must be in a basement, some type of warehouse. That meant the way out would most likely be up - I made a mental note.

  Three men walked in front of us, two men behind us penning us in. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go but forward. We passed door after door, just like the one that we had been kept behind. Behind some I could hear faint crying. At one, someone was knocking on the other side and coughing, begging for another blanket. The man leading us banged roughly on her door and told her to shut up.

  We turned a corner, then walked into an open room with stalls lining the wall. The floor and walls were all pale blue tile, most of them mouldy and cracked with age. A sour smell hung in the air.

  “Get in,” the man said as he shoved us forward.

  “Why?” I gathered the courage to ask.

  “What does it look like? It’s a fucking shower, and you’re both disgusting. Put two and two together. Strip, and wash off.”

  “Can we have some privacy?” Caroline asked.

  The other men started to laugh, and the one I now assumed was in charge gritted his teeth in frustration. Suddenly his hand shot forward and he struck Caroline across the face. She screamed and we both jumped back in shock.

  “Get it through your thick heads, you don’t get to ask questions, you do what you’re told. Strip, wash fast, then let’s go. Unless you want us to take your clothes off for you.” He grinned, showing two rows of yellow stained teeth. He pulled a package of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one in what I assumed was part of his chronic habit, always chasing that nicotine fix.

  The thought of any of their hands on my body sent bile rising in my throat. I trembled but started to remove my clothes, dropping them to the floor. After I removed my underwear I stood there on the freezing tile, trying and failing to cover my naked body with my hands. That night at the club when I had been attacked, the night I was saved by Beckett, flashed in my mind. A part of me wished he would burst in now, that he would find me and kill each and every one of these monsters. I hated feeling like a damsel in distress, but I would gladly swallow my pride to be saved from this nightmare. Beckett didn’t appear, he didn’t even know I was here - wherever here was. I was on my own.

  After Caroline stripped, we walked over to the row of showers. There were no curtains for privacy, just shelves with bars of cracked used soap. I turned on the tap, wanting to get this over with, and a blast of icy water hit my body. I shrieked, then men behind me laughed.

  I sent my mind somewhere else, somewhere far away, as I wet my body then worked the soap into a lather. I cleaned myself quickly, rinsed, then stepped away from the frigid water and turned it off. Caroline was done too, both of us shaking and naked. The man stood there, looking over our bodies with a perverse expression on his face, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he tossed us both scratchy towels. I wrapped it eagerly around my body, it was barely big enough to conceal anything.

  “Let’s go,” the man told us, walking away.

  I was happy to leave the shower room, being in there so exposed with these men made me nervous. They didn’t seem above raping a woman. We went around another corner and when we arrived at a door, the man knocked twice.

  “Send them in,” came a voice from inside.

  With those words, the door was opened and we were shoved inside so hard I almost fell forward. Behind a desk sat the short man I had met earlier, his massive bodyguard not far away in the corner.

  Short man pointed to two shapeless piles of fabric on a chair. “Put those on.” He was writing on a laptop, not even bothering to look at us.

  “Can you at least tell me what is going to happen?” I didn’t care if they hit me, information was the only form of power I could collect now.

  He looked up, his eyes beady and lifeless, like a shark.

  “You’ll dress. We’ll take a picture. The auction is tomorrow.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, keeping my head held high. “If it’s money you want, let me buy my freedom. I can pay.”

  “I told you, I was already paid to make you disappear Ella. Someone wanted you to suffer - worse than killing you. You can’t buy or talk your way out of this. Now get dressed. I won’t ask you again.”

  I walked over to the fabric, holding my thin towel against me to hide my body as I slipped it over my head. It was a light grey dress that clung to my figure, the fabric plain and cheap. I felt relieved to be covered. I dropped the towel, then turned back to face the short man.

  “Go stand in front of that wall. One at a time.” He had already turned his attention back to his laptop, disinterested in either of us. I wanted him to die a slow, painful death. I wanted all of them to suffer. I knew hatred - but I had never known it to this extent before.

  I stood against the wall, the big man held up a camera and snapped a few photos of me. Then he gestured for me to move out of the way, and for Caroline to stand against the wall. Wordlessly she complied, and he took her photo. When he was done, he placed the camera on the desk beside the short man.

  “They’re done,” short man shouted, still not looking away from his laptop.

  The door opened and the man from earlier stepped inside, gesturing for us to follow him. I stood my ground for a split second, anger bubbling inside of me with no useful outlet to direct itself towards. My helplessness only made me angrier, while Caroline seemed resigned.

  “You won’t get away with this.” I leaned towards him and spat at his face.

  The big man took a step towards me, but the short man held up his hand, signalling for him to stand down. He chuckled as he wiped my righteous spit from his shiny forehead, his dark eyes amused instead of angry.

  “I won’t get away from this?” he mocked, laughing. “I already have, Ella. Get her out of my sight.”

  The man grabbed me and Caroline by our arms, tugging us out of the office and back into the hallway. Back past the rows of other trapped women behind steel doors. Back to our cold cell, to await a fate worse than death.

  14

  Beckett

  I paced my living room, running my hands through my hair in frustration. Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for Ella not getting back to me, a reason for her not showing up at work today. Maybe she was sick, maybe she was focused on a story lead and turned her phone off.

  I was trying to convince myself that something terrible hadn’t happened, but nothing else made sense. She would have called into work if she knew she wouldn’t be there, and she definitely wouldn’t have ignored my messages for no reason. I have always trusted my instincts, and right now, my instincts told me I needed to find Ella - fast. If I lost her, I would lose the only thing that made me feel human. I would lose the only person I loved, and with her, my capacity to love. Time. This was now a race against time, and every second counted. But finding a missing person in Vegas would take time; it was a double edged sword.

  I logged into my laptop and spent hours accessing every single database that could possibly give me a clue. I checked hospital records, no women matching her description had been brought in. I checked police files, there were a few assaults and arrests, but none of the photos showed me Ella. The sun was low in the sky by the time I finally summoned the courage to check the files for the last database I wanted to search; the morgue. I held my breath as I navigated their records system, trying to stop my hands from shaking. Then I saw a description that made my heart stop.

  A woman had been brought in last night. Young. Brunette. Strangled and left dead in an alley. There was no identification found on her, right now she was listed as a Jane Doe. I clenched my fists and stared at the screen, not yet ready to view the images. It can’t be her. Ella is smart, she’s strong. She can’t be gone. Not like this.

  I pushed myself to my feet and walked away from my laptop, too nervous to click on the accompanying photos. What if th
is was her? What if this was the way it ended for us, with Ella on a cold steel table and my heart ripped from my chest? Was I delusional to have thought that the two of us could both live such dangerous lives, and never face any consequences? I felt nauseous.

  Finally I had to admit that stalling would change nothing - it was time to face whatever that mortuary file held for me. I walked back to the couch, took a deep breath, and sat down. I clicked open the photos and readied myself while I held my breath. Please don’t be her, I pleaded with the universe. Please.

  The small, lifeless face looking back at me from the images was young, pretty, taken from this world violently and much too soon. Her skin was pale, dark hair framing her oval face. It was not Ella. I dropped my head back and sighed in relief. This poor girl didn’t deserve the end that found her, but it wasn’t the woman I loved. I was conflicted. I felt guilty for how relieved I felt. Relief that would be denied to this poor soul’s loved ones, once they got the terrible news.

  I had checked every system I could think of, and I was no closer to finding Ella. If she wasn’t in police custody, dead, or injured, she very likely could be held against her will somewhere. That meant I still had a chance. If she’s still alive. But I needed a lead, I needed to speak to anyone who might have seen her before she disappeared. I needed to look for clues at her apartment. But I couldn’t do it as Beckett without revealing our relationship, and luckily, by now the sun had set.

  I changed into my dark outfit, pulling on my mask and heading down to the garage. I slipped my helmet on then started my motorcycle, roaring out onto the street. My heart was hammering, pure adrenaline coursing through my veins. If someone had taken her, if they touched a single hair on her head, they were going to die the most painful death imaginable at my hands. That, I was sure of.