by A. C. Bextor
“Dee Dee,” I whisper, loud enough I know she can hear me. I think about what else to say, but come up with nothing.
As I reach the common room, I find Cilas is the only one around. He’s sitting at the bar, beer in hand, staring into the mirror, which hangs on the other side. He has scratches on his face and some dried blood on his arm. Other than that, he’s untouched.
“Ci?” I call out and start to walk toward him. He doesn’t move his head to look at me. “Got another one of those?” I ask, already knowing this will be yet another one-way conversation with the man I’ve now come to know as a gentle giant.
He nods towards the bar, indicating I’m to help myself. I do as he instructed and reach under to grab a beer. I adjust my body in front of him and rest my forearms on top of the bar. The sun has started to come up and the particles of dust dance in its rays. The room is filthy, so it’s no surprise.
“Dee Dee will be fine,” I start to voice my one-sided conversation.
Cilas’ dark eyes lift to mine. They remain expressionless. The only way to know he’s affected by seeing Anna the way she was is the constant ticking of his jaw. His temples protrude with each grind of his teeth.
I still haven’t seen Viktor, so I’m unsure if he knows what’s happened. “Any word about Anna? Is Viktor here?”
He nods then looks down and stares at his nearly empty beer bottle.
“Where’s Hangar?” I ask, but once I do, I start to brace. Cilas’ eyes narrow, and the knuckles on the hand holding the beer bottle turn white from the grasp he’s using to hold it.
Thinking it best to leave him be, I give him notice. “Finish your beer. I’m gonna see how Anna is.”
Turning his head to the second hall off the common area, the one opposite of Casey, he points. I follow his hand and find the closed door behind the bar. I’ve seen Anna coming in and out of it before, but at the time thought nothing of it.
“Thank you,” I tell him, taking a quick drink. “For helping with Dee Dee and Anna.” My eyes scan the room for a clock and I find the only one which works telling me it’s now nearly six in the morning.
I’m exhausted.
Before walking out and leaving him in his place, I stop and turn around. I wait a beat for his attention before expressing my last thought, whether he wants to hear it or not. “And thank you for taking care of Casey.”
I realize I’m walking on unsafe ground, since I’ve witnessed time and time again his loyalty to Viktor and Hoss, but in the tragic circumstance we’ve found ourselves in tonight, I don’t hesitate to tell him further, “This is no place for a child her age and we both know it.”
Cilas takes a pull from his beer, tears his eyes from mine, and goes back to the same position I found him in before walking in here.
* * *
Viktor is sitting on a small metal chair near a bed in a nice room I’ve never been in. The space is clean, the carpet looks new, and it’s decorated in black and red. If I hadn’t known I was standing on this godforsaken property, I wouldn’t have guessed a room such as this existed.
Anna is lying on her stomach in the bed with only a sheet covering her bandaged back. It doesn’t look like she’s wearing any clothes and I imagine with the shape she’s in, it would hurt if she were.
Viktor’s holding one of her hands while the other strokes the side of her beat-up and swollen face. I’ve never seen him dressed down and wearing anything other than a suit. He looks worn-out, broken, and exhausted under the circumstances.
Knocking softly on the door, I watch as Viktor’s attention drops from Anna to come directly to me.
In a saddened, deep Russian accent, he instructs, “Come inside and close the door, Max.”
I enter as quietly as I can and close it until I hear the handle click into place. “She asked for you,” I tell him first. “She didn’t want to worry you.”
“She never does,” he whispers, continuing to stroke her cheek, using the soft caress of his fingertip.
“How is she?” I finally ask from where I’m standing at the foot of her bed.
The dull lamp light is enough to see she isn’t good. The whip Hangar used to beat her was so thick and wide in comparison to her that I imagine as he struck her in his tired state, he’d missed her back and the leather had landed on her neck and various other portions of her torso. The extent of the damage is plainly evident.
“She’s strong,” he answers. “So much more so than me,” he whispers, sounding ashamed, his concentration going back to look at her. “I owe you for this.”
His words are honest and I believe his sincerity, so I press. “Anna’s a good woman.”
“She’s the light of my life. She’s the reason I do some of the more humanly things I do. And you saved her.”
“I did what needed done. Cilas was there, as well.”
“Yes. And had you not both been the men you are, you could’ve walked away and left her to suffer.”
Silence takes up the space between us. Anna’s head moves briefly to reposition on her pillow. A small whimper of pain breaks the quiet before she falls back into what looks to be a fitful sleep.
“I’m leaving here sooner than I had anticipated.”
“When?” I inquire as Aimes’ timeline races through my mind. He has a plan, but I have no idea when it’ll be set in motion.
“If I could pick her up and leave this place right now, I would, but she can’t travel like this. Not the distance we have to go, anyway.”
“Casey?” I bring her into this without hesitation.
Turning his face to mine, the look of confusion is striking. He talks softly and seemingly only to himself. “This was supposed to be a business. I took her away from those men for business. I should’ve let her go sooner, but I…”
Once his voice trails off and I sense he’s done talking, I attempt to get him to continue. “Casey is a special girl. She deserves…”
“A home,” he says. “A home free of monsters.”
“Yes,” I reply in agreement.
“Anna doesn’t want her left behind. She wants me to keep her,” he tells me with a sigh, looking back down to the woman it’s obvious he loves. “She wants me to take her with us.”
“This isn’t a way to make something up to Anna,” I return with care. “Giving Casey to her won’t take away what’s happened.”
I find I’m absolutely right on the mark with my observation when he counters without hesitation, “Casey makes Anna happy. Anna’s lived a long, hard life, and some of it is because of me. They should be together.”
“You have someone coming to see her,” I remind him. “That man who wanted the other girl.”
“Yes, I do,” he breathes out. Sitting back in his chair, he releases Anna completely and rests his hands on his thighs as he looks down at them.
“What about Casey?” I insist again.
“You won’t get her. I won’t risk her being given back to her mother. If her sale doesn’t go through, I’m taking her away from here,” he adds with finality.
“She’s a good girl, Viktor. She has a good family outside of Dee Dee.”
My words are penetrating. All his concentration is on Anna lying on that bed in front of him. I prod, “Viktor?”
“I’ve never been happier to have met you than today,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
“What will you do with Hangar?” I ask, giving up on getting Casey out of here on my own and hoping like hell Hangar is already dead.
“When Hoss returns, which he will soon because I’ve told him to get back, I’ll deal with Hangar.”
“I’d like to help,” I add to this darkened shade of conversation.
“I’ll give you that.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as I walk toward the door and start to make my way out.
With his full attention yet again on Anna, Viktor says, “Thank you, Max. You’ve been a blessing to Anna. To Casey. And to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’
ve learned the reality of truly missing someone hurts more than never having them with you in the first place.
Casey knew the moment Max entered her room, pulling her attention away from her sketches, that something about him was different. Mostly, he looked tired. However, after further study, she noted he seemed misplaced. He didn’t hold eye contact, hadn’t touched her adoringly as he always had before, and his voice was broken as he uttered the words, “Hello, monkey.”
She didn’t rush to greet him. Instead, she stood from her chair and fidgeted in place. It wasn’t until her lip began to tremble with worry at the sight of his unfamiliar disposition that he finally reacted.
Now, as he’s crouched in front of her, searching her eyes, begging her to answer for her sadness, she recognizes him as the person he’s always been to her. Her small arms are wrapped in his large hands, the comfort of his touch enough to make her start to cry.
“Tell me,” he insists. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he implores again, before she has a chance to answer.
Ever since Max had left her alone with only memories of her Aunt Emma, she hasn’t been able to forget the way the gifted book made her feel. So much so, all she’s done is try to recall every moment, every sweet endearment she ever remembered from Max or her Aunt Emma.
Within the time that passed without Max in her presence, she’s realized that before, although she felt lonely and neglected, she was able to get by with only knowing those faces she once sketched on paper. Those mindless drawings were the foundation to a life outside of this one. They were her companions who kept her safe in the dark. But more than anything, they were her friends.
Max, regardless of however much she had started to look forward to his company, had brought out a side of her she hadn’t realized existed until now. In all the time spent in this room with imaginary friends she adored, she had forgotten how to actually miss people who were real and who cared about her.
This dawning recognition hit her full-force once Max stood in her doorway, coming in for a visit, after her breakfast this morning.
He reaches up and touches her small cheek. The worry she’s caused in his eyes makes her sad—not for her, but for him.
The familiar tone he uses resonates through his next plea. “Tell me, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”
Casey inhales a deep breath before starting to speak. She hates hearing the tremble in his voice. “I was looking for you.”
Not understanding the reasoning behind her tears, Max studies her closely, then asks with a certain fear she sees in his eyes. “Are you hurt?” he asks first, touching her arms and neck. “Was someone in here?”
Shaking her head quickly to stop the panic in his voice, she explains, “No, I mean I waited for you.”
Now his recognition dawns, and Max releases her to sit back in the chair. His thumb touches his bottom lip and she can see he’s holding onto it to keep from smiling. She doesn’t understand how this is anything to smile about. Least of all not at a time her heart is breaking.
“You missed me, you mean,” he states while sitting back up and placing his elbows on his knees.
“Yes,” she breathes. Then, with new courage, she finds herself doing something she’s never really done before. Except only once, with Cilas, and that was stemmed from fear, not love.
Without contemplating his reaction, or worrying what consequences could follow for it, Casey lurches forward and wraps her small arms around his large shoulders, willing him without words to hold her in the safety of his.
“Monkey,” he rasps in a gentle whisper, wrapping one arm around her tiny waist while he cradles the back of her head in his large hand. “That’s no reason for tears.”
Shaking her head with embarrassment and denial while keeping her face resting on his shoulder, she attempts to regain her composure, but finds it hard to do.
Grabbing her waist, Max pulls her far enough away so he’s able to look her in the eye. Reaching out, he clutches both her hands in his and the warm smile she’s missed so much comes back to life.
As he turns his head to her desk, she watches as he rummages through several unfinished drawings then grabs the book he gave her before bringing it into his lap. “Did you read it?”
She nods, but says nothing. She watches with fascination as he thumbs through the pictures. When he finally nears the end, she steps back to take a seat on her mattress, leaving her sitting directly across from him.
Turning around to put the book away, Max sighs. She doesn’t understand his change of mood or the worry he so obviously wears. As he stands to leave, as he always has to do, she’s already dreading how long it’ll be before she sees him again.
“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back before you can miss me again. How’s that?”
She nods in response, hoping his promise is true and that he understands all he’s come to mean to her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A few minutes after leaving Casey in her room, I found my way to what I now consider to be my temporary space here in this room to catch a breath and possibly get in couple hours of sleep.
Once I left Viktor with Anna, my direct intention wasn’t to seek out Casey. However, I’m finding quickly that she holds the same power over me as Em does. It’s as though I find a separate kind of peace in each of them. Just as my thoughts started to darken due to being shadowed in a life within these walls, coupled by the visions of a nearly lifeless Anna, I ached to be reminded of the reason I’m here in the first place. And hearing Casey explain, in her way, that she’s missed me was exactly what I needed to move forward.
As much as Viktor is sure he’s taking Casey anywhere away from me, I’m just as certain he isn’t.
I’m still unsure as to what Cilas did with Hangar after he removed him from the basement, but I can imagine he can also get as creative as Aimes once he’s fed up. I believe he was for certain, even before Hangar did what he did.
I thought Dee Dee may still have been in here when I returned, but she wasn’t. I found the light had been turned off and the bed had been made. I wasn’t hoping she was still around, but I would’ve liked to ensure she was okay, in any case.
Finally noticing my phone was dead, I pulled the cord from my bag and left it on the beat-up table to charge while I showered, changed, and slept to get ready for whatever happened next.
It’s the incoming call that’s woken me.
Before I’m able to say anything at all, I hear Aimes cut through. “You ready?”
Not clearly understanding the certainty in his voice, I do the expected and ask, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Brayden and his men are set. All are en route and the rendezvous point is Creed.”
Standing up and wiping my face with my hand, I pace the small room as I listen to whatever part of the plan Aimes is willing to share. However, plan isn’t a word I’d use to describe what he’s telling me will happen.
“You can’t just storm the gate, waltz your asses in here, and take Casey out. First, you’ll never find her and second, it puts everyone else in here in danger. There are other women here who need help.”
“Got it, Max. I’m telling you we’ve got it. Low’s working his shit now. We’ve paid a fuck of a lot of money for some important people to look the other way, or at the very least give us a head-start inside.”
“Christ,” I hiss. I’m not mentally ready.
“We’ve got this,” he urges again.
“How long?”
“The last few of Brayden’s men are en route. I’m not sure how much extra time I can give you.”
“How fucking long?” I stress.
“Ballpark?” he asks, then answers on his own, “Twenty-four hours, tops. Honestly, though, probably less.”
“That’s not a lot of time,” I explain, even knowing it doesn’t matter.
He confirms this by countering, “Did I not just tell you we’re set?”
In the background, I hear Aimes’ truck exhaust come to life, so I assume he
’s headed out.
“Anna was hurt.”
Silence follows, and the background noise becomes mute. “Explain.”
I know his tone. I’ve heard it from Aimes in the past while he was on the hunt and an innocent woman or child had been caught in the crosshairs of whatever he was caught up in. This same tone tells me he’s not only involved with Casey now, but he’s added Anna to his list of vengeance payback.
“I won’t go into it now, but I’ll tell you she needs time to heal. She’s fucked-up and not in position to be taken out of here. Free will or not.”
“You find out where she’s at exactly in that hole and report it back to Brayden or me. I’ll handle Anna. You handle Casey. His men will be the eyes and manpower we need.”
Rubbing the back of my neck as I continue to walk the perimeter of the small room, I question, “The other women, Aimes, with straps on their ankles. They’re like Casey.”
“Safe,” he assures, but he can’t know for certain. “The guys have all been briefed.”
“Fuck, I don’t like this. There’s another way.”
“Trust me?” he asks, aiming for my vote of confidence.
I’m not able to give that to him, so I reiterate, “I don’t like this.”
I hear his truck in the background again, then the click of his lighter before he inhales while saying, “It’s not like we can walk up to the door, knock, and ask for those girls, Max.”
“I know,” I reply, still wary.
“This is why I don’t tell you jack shit.”
Correcting his reasoning, I raise my voice. “You’re on the outside of this.”
“And working my ass off to get in.”
“Right,” I concede. I won’t win; Aimes is too headstrong and confident for his own good. “You’re still on the meet with Viktor later?”
“I am.”
“He’s on edge after what happened to Anna, so be cautious.”
