Between the Cracks and Burning Doors: Book 2 of The Extraction List Series

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Between the Cracks and Burning Doors: Book 2 of The Extraction List Series Page 4

by Meland, Renee N.


  We passed right by a police officer and my stomach cramped. I guessed I would have to get used to the feeling that I could get caught at any moment. I swore I could feel him staring at me. My face had to be on every news channel and in every paper by now. I could feel him searching for the face of the wanted teen.

  But whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it, and we kept moving. Nick didn’t speak the whole way. Every once in a while, he would look up at me, but I pretended not to notice. He kept his hands gripped tightly around the straps on his backpack.

  Nick hadn’t been kidding about the house. Like everything else in town, the paint was peeling off, and the porch looked like it had seen better days, but the majesty of the house itself was still there under the mold and worn shutters. A big red door stood at the top of the stairs, a mouth waiting to swallow us whole. “Well, we’re here. I hope you have more of a plan than just me getting you here. If that’s it, then your plan kinda sucks.”

  I scoffed. “Thanks.” But I couldn’t help but smile a little. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

  I hoped I was right.

  We were about to climb the porch steps when the big red mouth opened and a woman in a sequined blue dress burst through it. The strap on one side barely clung to her shoulder, and the armholes sagged so low that I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. The skirt of the dress dragged behind her on the ground, but she stood tall, holding the front of it in her hand. “Nick! Hello, my darling. Please come here.” Nick took small steps up the porch toward her. I followed.

  When she reached him, she bent over and, holding his face in her hands, placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Jack. Jack, Maureen.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I don’t know what I had expected Maureen to look like, but the woman in front of me definitely wasn’t it. Barely sixteen, her dark green eyes stared at me, looking me over from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. Her lashes were so long that I swore they swayed when a breeze drifted by, and the only thing more stunning were the eyes they protected. Her dark hair was pinned back in a bun, but two sections fell gently in her face. “Jack, welcome. Would you like to come in?” Her smile was bright and penetrating, and I suddenly felt ridiculous having brought two stolen knives to defend myself against the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  Nick grabbed my hand and I felt it tremble.

  She ushered us inside the house and I stopped short at the entryway. The outside of the house may have looked like it had seen better days, but the inside was glowing with golden vases, rugs that looked like they had been flown straight in from Europe, and candles almost as tall as Nick. Footsteps of several people rattled against my ears, like little mice flitting in and out of the house’s many corners. Children weaved in and out of the hallway by the entry; some carried food, others crisp white linens. Some scurried upstairs, and some to the sublevel below our feet. “What is this place?”

  Maureen smiled and I swore her teeth glistened. “First, let me give you the tour.” With a wave of her hand, she motioned for us to follow her. I couldn’t help but notice when her hips swayed the sequins on her dress sparkled. “This floor is the living area, with the kitchen, laundry, and sitting room. Each child has chores they must complete during the week, along with working for my business.”

  I looked at Nick as I asked, “Would that be the business I saw Nick participating in earlier?” Nick bit his lip.

  Maureen stiffened. “Some children are responsible for cooking all the meals for everyone each week.” She marched up to a young boy washing dishes in the sink. The sink was taller than he was so he had to stand on his toes in order to get each dish into the soap and water. She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “This is Colin. He’s been here longer than anyone has. Becoming quite the cook, aren’t you?”

  Colin looked up to nod briefly, and then went back to his dishes.

  He never said a word.

  Maureen guided us back toward what looked like a game room. Bookshelves lined the walls, and barely stopped before they reached the ceiling. Every single book’s cover was shredded, leather peeling off its binding. A blonde girl who looked a couple years older than Nick sat on the floor next to what looked like a Candyland board. She moved each piece quietly while another boy looked on. Each seemed to move their game pieces without any rhyme or reason, and I began to think they were just hopping around the board with no purpose. Neither smiled.

  We made our way back to the entryway where the staircase was. “Upstairs, I cleared out every single room so that each child could have their own bed. I have about twelve now that sleep here, four per room. Oh, excuse me one moment.” She climbed up two stairs and clapped her hands together twice, as loud as her small, slender hands could manage. The volume didn’t seem to matter though. “Children, study time!” She clapped her hands together two more times and suddenly there was a swarm of children lined up perfectly at the bottom of the stairs. Each one stopped at Maureen’s stair and she kissed them on the forehead as they went up the rest of the flight. I kept waiting to see at least one make some sort of eye contact, but they never did.

  Quite the production line.

  After all the children made it upstairs, I heard three doors shut in order, the one at the farthest end of the second story first, followed by the next two.

  Nick stayed by my side.

  “What’s downstairs?”

  Maureen grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”

  As we descended the stairs, I found myself squinting at the bright lights. But as I forced myself to open them, I realized it wasn’t just the lights, it was the colors. The basement was one big room, sectioned off into seven open sections, each decorated in a single color. All the sections had beds in the middle, and curtains that tied up against each edge of the adjoining walls with huge tassels, interwoven with gold and black threads. The beds in each were big enough for two people, with pillows in all different shapes, fabrics, sizes, and colors that matched their sections.

  In the middle of the basement were three velvet couches. Two men sat at one, and a girl in a gold lame corset served them wine while jumping on and off one of their laps. When she got up to refill one of their glasses, one slapped her on the ass. She giggled and sat back down, full glass in hand.

  The curtains on the black and green rooms were closed. Bile swelled up in my stomach when I realized what we were standing in. Not only was she making children sell drugs, she was making them sell themselves too. Maureen had made a business out of the worst of humanity. And worse than that, it looked like it was thriving. I turned to face her.

  “A brothel? A fucking brothel? How old are they?”

  Maureen threw her head back and laughed. Unsurprisingly, her laugh sounded like a bunch of canaries singing on a summer’s day. “Oh, Jack, don’t be so upset. These girls are courtesans. The profession dates back to the early Europeans, hell, probably before that.” She came over and took my hands in hers. Her skin was smooth and warm. “You know how the world is out there. I’ve given these girls the power to be in control of their own lives. They get to live here in this beautiful place. I keep them safe. We’re a family. Wouldn’t you rather them be here then out on the streets? Or reduced to God-knows-what?” She released my hands only to brush her fingers across my cheek. I stared at her. “They’re better off here, I think you know that.”

  I had to shake my head to pull myself from her gaze. My concern was Nick, and the heroin. I had to get him out of here. The girls were something I could figure out later. I pulled away from her delicate hand. “Whatever. Can we talk upstairs?”

  “Of course.”

  I barely made it up the stairs before I started in on her. “Look, I caught Nick selling heroin. It’s going to stop. End of story.”

  Maureen smiled, and looked around the hall of the empire she’d built. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy, Jack. Look around you. All this
doesn’t come cheap. I give them shelter, they give me a little something in return.”

  “Well I’m taking him with me then. He’s not going to be doing this anymore.” I grabbed Nick’s hand and started to drag him away, but Maureen grabbed my shoulder with more strength than I thought someone of her size could muster. I couldn’t help but turn around.

  “Jack, let’s talk in private for a minute?”

  I sighed. If it would make getting Nick out easier, I’d humor her. She had me follow her around the corner and into the room where I’d seen the children playing games earlier. Nick stayed in the hallway.

  Once we were safely out of sight, she stunned me again. As I started to head toward the couch, her hands slammed against my chest and I found myself pinned to the wall, her face inches from mine.

  I could have gotten away from her, of course, but I was shocked into submission. Her voice came out in a low whisper. “Who do you think you are anyway, huh? You think you can just come in here and tell me what to do? Is that what you think?”

  “Look, just give me Nick. That’s it. We can walk right out that door and never come back.”

  Suddenly, she started laughing; and not a pretty, sing-song laugh, a maniacal loud cackle that belonged to someone else, someone dark. “Wow, that easy, huh? You know, you’re quite the hypocrite.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Coming in here, judging me for what I’ve done. But you’re willing to just walk right out that door and never come back, conveniently forgetting about the rest of the kids I have here doing such terrible, awful things.” She dragged out the last two words, and said them in a higher volume. She even waved her hands around to make it more dramatic. Though I didn’t appreciate it, she did have a point. I could almost hear the woman on the television scolding me in my head, whispering to me that I couldn’t possibly let what was going on there continue.

  Maureen sauntered over to the couch, draping her legs over the length of it like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. “Here’s the thing. I can’t let you take one. If you take one, I lose control, do you understand? If one can leave, why not two? Besides, I need money to keep this afloat,” she said as she waved her hand elegantly at the room around her. “Drugs aren’t nearly as expensive as they used to be, so we have to sell a lot. And that means a lot of dealers.” She swept her legs down off the couch and rested her elbows on her knees. “You have noticed, right?”

  “Noticed what?”

  “That they’re scared of me. All of them. Not the girls downstairs, but the children.”

  I stared at her.

  “Wanna know why?”

  I had no idea how she wanted me to respond so I just stood there. “Did Nick tell you what happened to the last child who left?” I didn’t want to know.

  She smiled at me.

  I wished she’d stop.

  “You see, a lot of our downstairs clients are police officers. Great customers, actually. They keep my secrets, I keep theirs, you know? But that last kid who left, I just happened to let it slip that he was selling drugs, and they couldn’t very well let someone like that stay on the street, right?”

  Oh, God.

  “Where is he now?”

  Maureen laughed again, that laugh that I wished would go away and never come back. “Where do all criminals go? Young and old? To jail, of course. Gosh, I do hope he made some friends. Frail little thing. Not much older than your Nick. So, you see, I can’t let you leave with him.”

  I had a sudden idea—a terrible, stupid idea—but an idea all the same. And honestly, it was the only one I had come up with all night. The woman on the television couldn’t save me, but maybe, just maybe, I could somehow save these kids. “What if I did it? What if I sold it instead?”

  Maureen looked at me, unblinking green eyes staring. “I’m listening.”

  “I sell the drugs.” Stop talking, Cain.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Think about it. I’m older, more threatening. I could make you double what he makes you. I’ll buy his freedom so to speak. How much money does he bring you?” Now is the time to stop. Talking.

  Maureen rose off the couch. “One thousand a week.”

  “So I’ll bring you two. And with every two, I buy another kid’s freedom. But I get to take Nick right now, as a gesture of good will.”

  Maureen started to extend her hand.

  Shit, I’m really doing this.

  “On one condition.” She leaned in and whispered so close to me I could feel her breath on my face. “Stay away from my girls. They are off limits. You mess with them and I’ll wreck you, do you understand?”

  I hesitated. Those girls were maybe five years older than Nick at the most. They were beautiful and they seemed to have no idea how much danger they were in. I sucked in a breath. I had to make a decision before she changed her mind and ended up sending Nick to jail. Dominic would never forgive me. “Okay. Deal.”

  Nick didn’t let go of my hand until the house was out of sight. When he dropped it, he looked up at me. “What did you do?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “You had to have done something. She doesn’t just let people out, ya know.”

  “All you need to know is you aren’t selling drugs anymore and you’re coming to live with me.”

  He wrinkled his tiny brow. “Where are we going?”

  “To the church, uh, my church. The pastor there is gone for six months on a goodwill mission. To…Australia. I’m taking care of the place while he’s away.”

  Nick nodded. “Jack?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  When we came up to the church, Nick’s eyes widened. “This is my church, I go here!”

  I pretended to be surprised. “Really? Wow, what a small world. Let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a long night.” Nick seemed to be satisfied, at least for the moment, so he followed me upstairs.

  I turned around to show him the apartment, but when I looked back, I saw he had already found my bed and was fast asleep. I pulled the rocket ship covers over him just a little tighter and crawled into Dominic’s bed.

  Before I went to sleep, I asked God for forgiveness for what I had done, and what I hadn’t done yet.

  When I looked at Nick’s safe, sleeping face, I knew He heard me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Attempting to sleep that night was a joke. I had just signed up to be a drug dealer. I never really had a plan of what I wanted to do with my life…my idea of fulfilling goals didn’t go much past getting out of my parents’ house.

  Leave home: check.

  Goal met. Set, and match. But I had signed myself up for something that I didn’t understand. I didn’t even know what was in it. As far as I knew, heroin didn’t look any different than that crystalized rock candy kids used to get as a treat back when at least some parents had extra money to throw around.

  I didn’t even realize Nick was awake until I heard him speak. “So, Father Dominic’s gone, but you get to live in his house? That’s weird.”

  I didn’t turn my head, and used the covers to hide my face. My temples hurt, but lying felt less bad with my face hidden. “Naw, he hooked me up. Dom’s a great guy.”

  “How’d you meet him? You part of the church?”

  I squeezed the sheets between my fingers. “Nope. His friend knew my parents. Found out I needed a job and he knew he was leaving for a few months. I take care of his place, and I get to stay rent-free. Church charity and all that.”

  Seemed likely enough.

  I mustered the courage to throw the covers off myself a few hours later and got out of bed. A small beam of sunlight peeked through the curtains. I opened them and the sunlight exploded into the room. Nick squinted from his bed. “What are we doing today?” He looked at me with big brown eyes unblinking and curious, though probably not just about the day’s activities.

  “Well, for one thing, you’re going to teach me how to be a drug dealer.”

 
; Not one of my proudest moments, asking a ten year old how to go about selling heroin, but I had made a deal and I was going to stick to it. Nick threw a hand in his pocket and handed me a small black notebook. “Maureen gave us all one of these. It’s filled up with names, addresses that are safe to meet at, everything you need. It is pretty much the manual.”

  I flipped through the pages. The edges were warped, like Nick had carried the book in the rain a couple times. Names, dates, locations—the book was filled with a virtual who’s who of D.C. The police officers, teachers, and politicians inside would be ruined if the little black book were made public.

  I could see why Maureen thought she was untouchable—it was true.

  “So yeah, each person I meet with and when is in there. All I,” he laughed, “well, you, have to do now is meet at that time each week. Pretty easy, actually.”

  Sure, except I was going to have to ask these people for double what they were paying before. Not likely to go over without a fight, and I wasn’t sure I was prepared for one.

  Or dozens.

  Surprisingly, I didn’t have to fight anyone until the fifth meeting. Tom Billinger, who was a fireman for fifteen years and not afraid to tell me so, thought that he would just go to another drug dealer. He ran his sweaty, round belly right into me, nearly knocking me over. “You’re trash, you know. Just trash.”

  I asked him what that made him since he was buying something from me. That’s when he shoved me.

  That’s also when I drew a knife to his throat.

  Nick stood a few feet away, eyes wide as he saw the twinkling metal whip from my hand. Tom threw both his hands up in surrender. I stepped back to give him a chance to grab a second wad of cash out of his pocket and add it to the first. I threw a bag of heroin at him as he dashed away.

  That night, Nick walked next to me in silence as we made our way back to the church. He didn’t speak again until we were safely locked inside. “Hey Jack?”

 

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