Sinners and Saints

by Ambear Shellea

  The instructor waited patiently as half the room sat along the wall and on the bench. After all those who didn't want to participate got their seats, the woman in charge turned her attention back to those who did. Vylette took a step back and gulped when the instructor's gaze found her standing in the back corner by the door.

  “You, please join us.”

  After glancing at the crowd who only had eyes for her, she made her way to the front of the room.

  “You are going to be my volunteer, please step up on the platform and face me.”

  “I don't think that is a good idea. I have a bruised rib.”

  “I will take it slow and easy then. Come.”

  Feeling put on the spot and unable to get out of it, she stepped up on the small stage type landing and faced the instructor who introduced herself.

  “I am Pamela, and you are?”

  “I’m Vylette. Vylette Echo.”

  “Nice to meet you, Vylette. Okay, let’s start. Stand with your feet slightly apart like this and keep your hands at your sides.”

  She did as she was told except she fisted her hands and put them in front of her, ready to punch.

  “No, hands down.”

  “If I am to defend myself, I need my fists up, ready to strike.”

  “No. That only let’s your attacker know that you not only are ready to defend yourself, but that you know how. The purpose of this exercise is to take your opponent by surprise and get away. It’s not about fighting.”

  “If you insist.” She dropped her hands.

  “Now I want you to block my strikes.”

  She nodded, understanding.

  The instructor swung and she ducked it by stepping to the side and slapping the swinging hand away from her, followed by a kick in the mid section. Pamela fell on her ass and smiled.

  “Nicely done. Have you had this class before?”

  “No, but I have brothers who are meaner than hell and they taught me to defend myself by fighting. I had two choices growing up with them, I could learn to fight back or get my ass kicked...” she shrugged her shoulders, “I learned the former.”

  “Very good, but that will only buy you a few seconds rather than minutes. Now I want you to swing at me. Don't worry, instead of following through, I will slowly walk through what I am doing instead of with full force.”

  With a doubled up fist she swung at the instructor who ducked just as she did, but instead of a kick to the gut or groin as she expected, she aimed for the knee cap. Pamela was slow and steady just as she promised, moving with a tender pace, mindful of the injury. Vylette was brought to the ground and the instructor smiled once more. Pamela pulled her from the ground and faced the crowd of people.

  “See, by kicking your attacker as hard as you can in knee cap, it will incapacitate them more than a hit in the gut or groin. Most people, even though it may hurt, can recover quickly from that hit. Your goal is to kick them hard enough to break the knee, hindering them from chasing after you. I don't care how tough you are, if you take a hard hit in the knee cap, it’s going to hurt like hell. But it is a move you need to be dedicated to. If you do it, Do It! Don't half ass it. Put as much as you can behind it and picture that knee cap breaking and the attacker’s leg flipping the wrong way. It is a gruesome thought, yes, but it's better than what they have in store for you.”

  Pamela stepped off the landing and walked into the crowd of murmuring people, pairing them together to practice. She watched as the instructor moved here and there giving advice and demonstration for accurate deployment. She was about to join the crowd when Pamela stepped back to her.

  “Come with me.”

  Before she could answer or protest, her arm was in Pamela's grip and being pulled from the room. Her heart pounded once more out of fear of not knowing, sweat beaded her forehead as she scurried trying to keep up.

  “Where are we going? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, not at all. I am just going to speed up your process.”

  My process?

  They headed toward a part of the building she hadn't been before. Off down a dimly lit hallway they rushed toward a wooden door and she just about broke her instructor's arm when she threw her off and stopped, looking at the carving on the door.

  No! Son of a bitch!

  Pamela, still sprawled on the floor and surprised, shouted.

  “What is wrong? Why did you just do that?”

  “That symbol I have seen it before.”

  “Are you talking about the snake?”

  She gulped and inched backward. Fear flooded her veins, speeding the pace of heart and the thoughts in her mind. She felt so stupid for believing what Mr. Buchanan had said. A perfect stranger. Of course he would be lying. People will say anything to get what they want. She had learned that the hard way. How quickly she had forgotten the one lesson her grandfather had taught her before he passed away.

  “I can't...I am out of here!”

  She sprinted back down the darkened hall and for the second time that day, ran square into her keeper.

  “Whoa, whoa. What’s going on here?” he asked when he grabbed her.

  She bucked and jerked, trying to get away.

  “Get off me, liar!”

  She railed back punching him in the nose and kicked her leg to break his knee, when he let go and side stepped that move. Her focus on the man to her right, she forgot about Pamela who bear hugged her from behind, hindering her upper body movements. Leaning her head as far forward as she could, she took a deep breath and reared back with as much strength as she could find, head butting the woman in the face.

  Score!

  She dropped from the woman's grasp and took off, both of them hot in her tail. She was almost to the end of the hall when she spotted an open door with a perfect view to the outside world from an open window. She speed up and raced into the room jumping through the gap to freedom. The cold night air was like needles in her lungs as she gasped for breath. Her injured rib reminded her she’d done too much. Grabbing her side, she shot from the ground and bolted around the corner only to slam into a flesh wall of muscle. Lewis caught her before she hit the ground.

  “Easy there. C'mon, back inside.”

  Damn, it!

  She fought as best she could, but the man was just too big. His arms were as big as her thighs and had muscle enough to defeat Hercules himself.

  Fresh tears born of fear and defeat streamed down her face as Lewis carried her back inside to an angry and waiting Mr. Buchanan.

  “Take her to my office. My real office in the south corridor.”

  As big as the body guard was he moved fairly quickly given his size. It wasn't but a few moments and they were back in that hallway facing the severed head of a snake carved into the door. Mr. Buchanan and Pamela right behind them. Mr. Buchanan's angry tone filled the hall.

  “Quickly get her into my office and make sure Pamela comes along too.”

  “As you wish,” the guard replied.

  Mr. Buchanan stood, holding the door open for all of them. Once inside he bolted the door behind him and motioned for her and Pamela to have a seat. The guard took the part of sentinel by the door. A few breaths and he stood before them, sweating, angry, and smoke billowing out his ears. Vylette could hold her tongue no longer.

  “I should have known you were a damned liar.”

  She watched the man take a few breaths, trying to calm himself before he spoke, his narrowed darkened eyes on her.

  “I will talk to you in a moment...”

  His angry gaze went to Pamela and he started his inquisition.

  “What were you thinking? Bringing her down here? She hasn't been to the seminar yet.”

  She couldn't help, but focus on the ticking of his jaw as he spoke in clipped controlled tones. She knew he was lair and she vowed to kill him for his lies and whatever plan he had cooked for her, but he was still a sight to be seen.

  Why does he have to be so damn sexy...and lethal. What is wrong
with me?

  As much as when he was nice and calm, and that he looked like a hero come to her rescue, at that very moment, he had the persona of an avenging angel. He still looked all 'sexy angel savior' and all that, but now he was just a very pissed off one. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of ending his life if she got the chance, but no matter how angel like he looked, if his intentions were devilish and cruel, to save her own life in return, she would do what she had to in order to survive.

  Pamela's sputtering gained her attention. She wanted to know what the woman had planned herself.

  “I am sorry it didn't go how I had planned, but I want her. I was bringing her here to tell you that.”

  She wants me for what?

  “You want her? Fine…Maybe...She hasn't been through the seminar yet. We don't even know how this is going to pan out. Why couldn't you just tell me that without bringing her?”

  She scooted out of the way as Pamela stood, slamming her fist in the table.

  “You hired me because I have an eye for talent. This girl has a lot of it and I want her on my team.”

  Team?

  “Well, look what your impatience has caused. The whole house in now in an uproar. What is rule number one around here?”

  She leaned in as Pamela lowered her voice when she answered his question.

  “Above all else, keep them calm.”

  “Just look at her. Look! Does she look calm? No! She is scared half out of her mind. Just as she was the day I rescued her.”

  Uh-oh!

  She knew that look. Pamela wore the same look she had been giving everyone since day one. The look of challenge. The one that said, well bring it on, but you will have to work for it. The woman's voice matched her expression.

  “You will just have to tell her now instead of at the seminar.”

  “No, now is not the time.”

  “I beg to differ. She saw the carving on the door and freaked out. She damn near got away. Granted, I went about this the wrong way, but I didn't know she knew your mark, but that doesn't change the fact that she needs to know and she needs to know now. She will be an asset to the team and I don't want anyone else laying claim to her.”

  Mr. Buchanan took a few steps forward, his expression dark. “That is too bad, I have already claimed her.”

  The next few moments were tense, no one spoke, they only glared at each other. As if she needed anymore shock to her system, the two who were just a second ago looking as if they were going to blows suddenly burst out laughing. Pamela's comment light as air as she went to leave the room.

  “Well, if you have claimed her, that is as good as her being mine.”

  Pamela walked past the guard and out the door leaving her alone with Mr. Buchanan and the flesh statue behind her. The boss man fetched a hand full of files from a box on the floor and tossed them on the table as he took a seat opposite from her. A nudge from the guard let her know it was time to take a seat. Apparently she was going to be here for a while.

  Chapter 10

  She took her seat, but tried to stay out of reach of Mr. Buchanan. A yellow folder slid between them and the man in charge opened it and began, what she intended to be a one sided conversation.

  “This is Amelia. In 2003 she was kidnapped by a group known as the Cobras. They were a group of men who dealt in the trafficking of women. Sex was their business and young girls were their currency. The more beautiful young women they had and the more they were wanted by other men, the more they could get their hands on whatever they wanted. Be that other women for themselves, guns, money, power, you name it they got it. Amelia was sixteen years old and just coming into her own when she was kidnapped. She was found five years ago. Drugged. Bound. Beaten. Dead.”

  Is this to be my fate?

  She tightened her muscles to keep them from shaking and wrapped herself in fake bravery. “What does this have to do with anything? Do you think I will feel safer knowing this? Do you think all this lavishness will make me forget I am a captive here? Or is this what you have in store for me?”

  “No.”

  That was a shock, she had expected a different answer. She lowered her voice.

  “Then what's the point? Are you saying that because you have 'claimed' me...”she pointed at the picture in the folder. “...that will not be my fate?”

  “In a way, yes...”

  She watched him tap his finger on the stack of files.

  “This is just a small portion of women who have suffered a fate similar to Amelia's. I will spare you the nightmarish details. These women and girls are why I am who I am today.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, she leaned back in the chair. “And who are you?”

  “Sinner and Saint.”

  “What does that mean? You save them from one hell and put them in another?”

  “Not at all. I will get to all that. I needed you to understand my motivation behind my actions, that is why I told you about Amelia.”

  She followed his movements with her gaze as he got up from the chair and walked over to the guard.

  “Lift your shirt and show her.”

  The guard, without any hesitation, lifted his shirt and displayed a chest and stomach full of nasty scars.

  “Lewis is my right hand man, and the first person to join my cause―”

  “Join your cause? You make it sound like you are some kind of hero.”

  Her eyes stayed on him as he moved back to take his original seat in front of her.

  “You just let me finish my tale and see what you think when I am done.”

  Crossing her arms, she said, “Looks like I don't really have a choice.”

  Why does he have to have such a charming smile?

  “I got into this business back in 2003 after Amelia was taken. I worked my way up the scumbag ladder, making contacts and shady deals when I had to. It took me years to get where I am now. Every girl I see is Amelia to me. Every face, every time, always Amelia.”

  Is that pain in his eyes? Couldn't be. Monsters have no feelings.

  “Who was Amelia?”

  “She was my sister.”

  Damn, didn't see that one coming...now I’m confused.

  “So, what are you saying here?”

  “Here is the truth of the matter. When my sister was taken, my whole world changed. She was my responsibility and I failed her. I did not gain enough status in this game in time to save my sister, but I have been saving every girl I’ve come across since then. I did it then, I do it now and I will continue to do it in the future. Money is no object these days, but back then, it was a huge deal and part of the reason why we never got her back. They demanded a ransom they knew I couldn't afford. Those demons even told me what would become of her if I failed to give them the money. They taunted me for over a year, after that, I lost contact with them and the next time I saw my sister I was identifying her body in the county morgue.”

  Hero not villain. Tears lined her face as relief sank in. Whatever is going on, she truly wasn't going to die. Mr. Buchanan waited patiently as she took her moment, taking the tissue he offered , dabbing her eyes and calmed down. Her shaky voice finally came to life.

  “I am so sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how you must feel.”

  “Please don't cry. I have mourned her loss, but quite frankly she is in a place where she doesn’t have to endure such torture and that helped with my grief. My goal is to save these girls before that happens. No one should ever have to endure such things.”

  “So, what is all of this? I mean if your goal is to save us, why keep us here?”

  “It is all part of a process. I can't just save them and turn them loose. Most of the women I rescue are hooked on some kind of drug, or beaten so badly they only know how to obey. What good would I do them if I just cut their chains and left them? They would just end up back in the clutches of some other asshole with the same plan for them.”

  She stared at the tears rimming his eyes. This is life for him.
How glorious and terrible at the same time. What a big cross he must bear seeing such things, but what a miracle it must be for the women he saves.

  “I understand. From that point, it makes sense.”

  “Vylette, you need to understand that most of these women don't see this the way you do. They just accepted the fact that I would do them the same way. They have been taught that even though they are subjected to hell, they know submission means less beatings, less chance of dying. Acceptance is how they survive. You have only fought because you have not lived this life, therefore you had hope of escape, of surviving a different way.”

  “I get it. I’m sorry I caused you trouble. I didn't mean to stir things up.”

  “To be honest, it made me smile to hear of the way you were fighting back. I saw it in your face, you didn't really expect freedom. You fought for death because the alternative scared the shit out of you.”

  “You're correct, but I didn't know what I know now.”

  “I know you didn't. I have put this protocol in place for a reason. It takes time and most of these women are completely out of it for the first few days anyway.”

  “I know. I saw the women you got from Falken. They barely knew their own names.”

  “Exactly. Do you remember what Lewis did the first night you were here?”

  “Yes, he checked me out, drew some blood and took my finger prints.”

  “That is just the beginning of the process. The finger prints and DNA help to identify each of them. We find out who they are, but we also dig up all the records we can find on them. Family, children, police records and statements of when they were taken. We track down the families so we can get to them if we need to.

  Each girl is put into a different group depending on their needs. Next door we have a rehab center for those who are strung out, along with a therapy center for counseling. All of them need something besides saving and we have thought of anything and everything we can to make the transition as smooth as possible. For some, it only takes weeks to bounce back and concentrate on a new life, but for others it takes years.