She’d had no food, and no water. Her blood wasn’t circulating to her limbs, and she lost consciousness at least once more. But when the thump of a lock came, before that scrape of the door opening, Flick tried to fortify herself against what would come, but she had no idea what that was.
Except she heard the pant of breath, someone spat out, then the door was closed again. Flick wasn’t alone, but she had no idea who, or what, had been left here with her.
With the damp, short breaths wheezing from her lungs Flick tried to tell herself not to panic. She tried to slow her breathing down, but the more she tried the worse her hyperventilation became. Being scared wouldn’t help anyone. But just as those tortured women cried out despite being ignored, Flick couldn’t do nothing.
Her tears had stained her gag until she could taste the salt from her own body. Losing the moisture could be crucial if she wasn’t hydrated soon, but Flick couldn’t stop the fat rolls of liquid from skidding down her cheeks.
And as Flick herself fought the urge to scream out, another voice came from the ether.
‘You’re new.’ A sobbing started, and seemed to be crowded by a second, then a third. But the voice that spoke was calm and quiet.
Flick couldn’t see anyone, but she sensed someone coming closer. The knot of her gag was pulled off the top of her head snagging her tooth on her lip in the process, making it bleed, but Flick gasped in the welcome air.
‘Who are you?’ Flick coughed out, then struggled to stop her lungs heaving in the oxygen.
‘There are six of us,’ the female voice said, and the woman who moved around her came into view through the harsh light of the lamp.
Thin as skin on bones, a vaguely blue dress hung on her shoulders, but the stains of blood, and vomit, and goodness only knew what, matched the bruises over her porcelain skin. She was tall but meek, somehow broken.
‘They took me from the street more than a week ago,’ she said, sitting on the floor at Flick’s side.
‘Can you untie me?’ Flick asked.
‘No,’ the woman said.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Brianna.’
‘If you can untie me—‘
‘I can’t,’ Brianna said.
‘If we can get the door open—’
Brianna shook her head. ‘We’ve tried. We’ve tried breaking out. The door is metal; it’s three inches thick... Were you taken from the street?’
‘Yes, but—‘
‘I’ve never seen them... the way they brought you in here... the small one, the Sniveller we call him—‘
‘Skeeve,’ Flick said. ‘They call him Skeeve. The woman is called Simone, and you’re all in a derelict mansion of some kind.’
‘How do you know those things?’
‘What are they going to do with us?’ a voice from the blackness asked. Flick realised they were all in the same room, and no doubt restrained too.
Flick didn’t really want to answer the question. But it seemed only fair to be honest because her words would be nothing to what these women would face when they left here.
‘They’re going to sell you, us...’
‘Sell?’ Brianna asked.
‘Victor, he’s a loan shark who wants to get into the big leagues,’ Flick said, so that at least if she didn’t get out of this these women would have the means to expose him if need be. ‘I don’t know how, or why, but he’s moving into this, human trafficking. Women like us... I think they pick women for their marketability.’
Brianna had been pale before, but now she was positively transparent. ‘How do you know these things?’
‘I’ve been here before,’ Flick said. ‘Not here but... upstairs. They held me for ransom.’
‘I don’t have any money,’ the voice from the woman she couldn’t see said.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Flick said. ‘They got paid for me, and a week later they snatched me from the street, just like I said.’
‘It’s almost morning,’ Brianna said. ‘I heard them talking about going out today... I don’t know why but...’
‘Morning,’ Flick said.
When she’d been taken out of the van and brought down here, dusk had been threatening. At least that was her guess from the encroaching night she remembered of the sky. So she’d been here all night.
‘There are no windows down here,’ Brianna said. ‘I haven’t seen the sun in...’
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ Flick said, trying to order her thoughts. But it was Rushe’s forethought she needed. She didn’t have the first clue how to get out of here, especially when she was still restrained.
‘What do you mean?’
Not quite believing she was about to quote the man who’d captured her – twice – Flick answered Brianna. ‘I wouldn’t be so eager to shorten your wait. As long as you’re in here you’re safe.’
‘Safe,’ Brianna said. ‘Do you know how they treat us?’
‘Alive in any form is better than dead,’ Flick said, reminding herself of the redhead she’d tried to save from Skeeve in the shack.
Rushe was right, Flick was different, but it wasn’t he who changed her. Not only him. The things she’d seen in these last few weeks showed Flick the underbelly of humanity. The bottom feeders she’d been surrounded with made her bare her own teeth and she got it, she understood. Her fear wasn’t what consumed her – it was anger.
These men had no right to touch her, let alone capture her. She was a human being with her own free will, and it wasn’t the right of anyone to sell her into slavery. They might be stronger, and they may be able to force her into things she would revolt against, but Flick wouldn’t go quietly. Somehow she’d see Rushe again, even if just to tell him that he was right, weakness had no place in this world.
Some of the women cried, and then there was silence. Flick didn’t know if they were sleeping, or if they’d been injured, because she still couldn’t see them. Sleep was impossible for her with this light so close to her face, and she continued to fight her bonds. It didn’t matter that they weren’t getting looser. The bite of rope on her skin bloodied her, but she kept trying because she couldn’t do nothing. Flick couldn’t sit here and do nothing.
At least a few of the other females in the room were unbound, but they stayed in place. Maybe they’d been exposed to punishment for escape attempts. The people here made their money based on breaking the will of others. Brianna seemed to be the strongest of the group, but the dullness in her eyes betrayed that she too had been toppled.
No one fed them, and the hours dragged. Conversation was a ridiculous notion in this scenario, and so none of them attempted it. Flick had tried to get information from the other women. But from the pieces she cobbled together the women were mostly bound or blindfolded when taken from one place to the next. And one man was as faceless as any other when they were subjecting the women to what they’d been through.
Not all of them had been raped, but one of the girls was young. Flick assumed from what the others said on behalf of the mute teenager that she was either underage or untouched, both would get top dollar, and once again Flick’s stomach heaved.
Where was Rushe? He couldn’t know that she was down here. The other women, mostly Brianna, spoke on behalf of the youngster. Every word broke Flick’s heart.
Her eyes had been closed against the harshness of the light that blinded her, but Flick hadn’t realised that she was unconscious until the snap of ice-cold water gushed over her. With a gasp, she sputtered up as far as she could against her ties.
In front of her was Skeeve and Glen holding a large metal basin, she assumed it had been filled with the water they’d thrown over her.
‘Boss wants to see you,’ Skeeve sneered.
Glen was behind her and when he loosened the bonds, Flick tried to stand, to fight, but she collapsed to the floor. Her arms and legs hadn’t been used in so long that none of them had any power, any strength.
‘Up!’ Skeeve demanded, and she tried to m
ove to her hands and knees. Just as Flick managed to get up, he kicked her ribs knocking her over again. ‘Yeah, you’re good and tired aren’t you little girl. No fight left in that stacked body. Up!’
Again when she got up, he kicked her over and Flick snarled up at him. Her limbs might not work, and her eyes might burn, but she was still better than him.
‘Pathetic,’ she managed to croak. ‘Scut work again. Fetch.’
‘What are you doing?’
Flick turned her head to see the women, six of them, huddled together at the door. Each had their hands bound, and were in various states of undress.
‘He’s the lackey,’ Flick said, not recognising her own hoarse voice. ‘He just waits for his boss to throw the ball, like a pathetic puppy.’
‘He’ll kill you,’ Brianna whispered.
‘No, he won’t,’ Flick said, trying to struggle onto her hands and knees again. ‘He only does as he’s told. He’s a slave with perks, like being allowed to rape defenceless women, because there isn’t a woman alive who would touch him voluntarily.’
‘You whore!’ Skeeve said, and his boot made contact with her cheekbone, sending her sideways again.
Pain burst in her eye, and Flick could taste blood in her mouth, but it was nothing compared to what she imagined would come. As she lay there on her back between the cowering women and the vengeful Skeeve she made herself smile through the pain, and more than that Flick laughed and rolled her attention to him.
‘He’s gonna kill you,’ she said, and suddenly her laughter seemed appropriate.
‘You fucking slut!’
Where her energy came from Flick didn’t know, but when Skeeve’s boot swung toward her again she blocked it with her arm and thrust it away, getting herself up onto her knees in the process.
‘You wanna watch him fuck me before he gouges out your eyes?’ Being a victim was a state of mind, and it wasn’t one she’d subscribe to, not anymore. ‘You want to listen to me beg him for more? God it feels good when he fucks me, real hard, I beg him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me every minute of the day, Skeeve. He’s a man, a real man, and you’re scum.’
‘I’m gonna fuck you six ways—’ Skeeve started toward her with his hands on his fly, but Glen shoved him.
‘Later!’ Glen said. ‘Don’t keep the boss waiting.’
Skeeve snarled and spat down on her, but she strutted with her eyes. ‘Yeah, do your job, slave.’
Glen grabbed her hair and yanked her backward. ‘You get up on your feet and walk bitch, or I’ll drag you by the hair.’
When he propelled her forward Flick fell to her face, but she managed to scramble up towards the other women who were herded like sheep. New rope was tied on her bloodied wrists behind her back as they shuffled along a black corridor. A door was opened, and they all went inside another black room. The other women went to the corner at this side, and so Flick followed. The seven of them lined up against the wall.
‘On your knees,’ Glen said.
The others all complied, and she didn’t know what else to do. Flick wanted to fight. She wanted to object, but the others were broken, and she’d be on her own.
Glen and Skeeve she knew, but the other three men in the room she didn’t. Those three were big, bulky, and much more formidable than a weasel like Skeeve.
Skeeve and Glen went along the line gagging each of the women, then putting a black hood over each face. Whatever was about to happen, they didn’t want to be looked in the eye. They wanted the women faceless, or they wanted to be faceless to the women – neither had positive connotations.
Skeeve came to gag her, and took great pleasure in pulling it tight. But Flick looked him in the eye, he would never have the satisfaction of her fear. A door in the opposite corner opened, because there was a flash of light in this dimly lit room that Flick caught just before the thick hood was tugged over her eyes.
His slimy hands fondled her breasts, and she had to suppress the urge to butt forward. Luckily for him Skeeve sloped off, and she was grateful to have the stench of him retreat. Disoriented by her inability to see, Flick remained in the line of kneeling women in the furthest position, right in the corner.
Footsteps sounded and she wasn’t sure if it was people coming in to the room, or people leaving. Still drowsy from her time without sleep, food, or water, Flick found it difficult to focus, to process anything. Keeping herself on her stinging knees was difficult enough. Then a door closed, and the walking stopped.
‘Everything under control?’
Victor. Flick recognised him and she doubted he’d have travelled alone.
‘Yeah,’ Glen responded.
Now she knew no one had departed, so there were more men in the room. The three thugs, Glen, Skeeve, Victor, and whoever else there was. A sniffing sound came from the line, and Flick knew one of the women was crying. The youngster didn’t cry. Flick thought it amazing that despite her terror the littlest of them didn’t give these men the satisfaction either. Or maybe she was numb to it, Flick could identify with that too.
‘I’m gonna kill her. I swear to it. I’m gonna kill her.’
Skeeve’s snivelling never stopped, and Flick wanted to crow over him because he could only be referencing her. She’d riled him up, and this time he had no one to shoot. If she hadn’t had the gag in her mouth, she’d have started the next round. Flick would not curl up and play dead just because these men wanted her to.
If Rushe’s bedroom games had taught her anything, it was that respect was earned, and it wasn’t earned when you rolled over in fear. Flick didn’t cower from Rushe. She didn’t fear him, and if she could stand up to the face of his unflinching angry façade, she could face anything.
The worst she could get was beaten, or raped, or killed. But given her current predicament that was likely all she had in her future; if it was going to come anyway, why worry about delaying it.
‘You shut it,’ Glen said, and there was the sound of a smack.
‘Who?’
That sound stopped Flick’s thoughts. It stopped her heart, and brought her chin up. Rushe. He was here in the room. He was alive. Her tears started again, and this wasn’t fear, or pain, it was joy; complete relief that her love was here, he was alive.
‘New girl,’ Glen said.
‘She is disgusting.’ Simone was in the room as well.
‘What we doing down here?’ Rushe asked.
The fact that he didn’t know scared Flick. No doubt they would use her to scare him, but Skeeve and Glen had been certain in their words and actions. Victor ran the show. The hooligans were muscle, and Simone was... whatever she was.
‘Been a bit of a concern,’ Victor said.
A silence followed, which made Flick think Rushe was waiting for someone else to speak because she knew he could be sparse with his words. But if no one else spoke that meant only one thing. Victor was waiting for Rushe to respond.
‘I’m not interested in being fucked around,’ Rushe said.
‘Seems to us you’re not interested in being fucked of any sort,’ Victor said. ‘You a joto?’
‘Yeah, I’m a fag,’ Rushe said. ‘Give me the key.’
So they were locked in here, he was as much of a prisoner right now as Flick was. ‘I don’t think that’s it,’ Victor said.
‘Think what you want,’ Rushe said. ‘Didn’t know you spent so much time thinking about my dick.’
Flick considered herself correct.
If Rushe hadn’t been screwing other women, then Victor had to suspect that Rushe had released her. But the money had been paid. Had Rushe told them that he handed her over after the cash? Or did Victor know that the money was from Rushe? But what reason could Rushe have for paying her ransom unless he admitted his feelings. Except if he had admitted his feelings to Victor, then Victor would have no cause to believe he couldn’t demand more money.
Rushe was here, with these men, and had to have been for the previous week. The week between him dumping her at her parent
s, and her being snatched from the street. Rushe had come back. He had to have told Victor that her father paid the ransom, and that was when he handed her over.
Flick tried to come up with reasons that Rushe could have for coming back here. There could be none. It was obvious now that he didn’t need the money. He didn’t like any of the men here, let alone care if they got hurt. He was here alone. But why? And why did they need her?
‘Boys have been noticing,’ Victor said, after the lengthy silence, which was no doubt meant to put Rushe on edge – Victor couldn’t know him too well.
‘You got shit to say, spit it out,’ Rushe said, sounding more bored than nervous.
‘You’ve never had any of the girls,’ Victor said.
‘So? I’m not a rapist; didn’t know that was a qualifier for being part of your crew.’
‘It’s not,’ Victor said, as cool as a cucumber. ‘You don’t have to fuck them though, plenty of pretty girls here Rushe, you don’t even look.’
‘I’m not screwing around with the merchandise.’
‘Yeah, but you’ve not screwed anyone, not since that frisky bitch with the tits... you screw her before you took her back to daddy?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘You’re a tough guy to read, but you do what you’re told, and get the job done. But this isn’t your gig, is it? You think every guy in this room here is a piece of shit.’
‘I don’t hire ‘em, and if you’re gonna ask me to screw one of your fucking—‘
‘Not one of them,’ Victor said. ‘But look at it like this.’ Now Victor wanted to be Rushe’s pal according to that intonation. ‘You won’t look at the merchandise, you haven’t pulled a trigger since you’ve been here, and you think you’re better than the rest of us. Why are you here?’
‘I get my cut,’ Rushe said. ‘If you’re gonna fuck me out of my money—‘
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