Pushed

by Leah Holt

  He was older than I expected, maybe in his early fifties. Gray and black hair peppered his head, a thick mustache traced his upper lip. He had weathered lines that painted his skin, and a small beer belly camouflaged by a deep navy blue button-up shirt.

  “Sylvan, I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying.”

  Holding out his arms, he smiled. “What can I do for you, Machi?”

  “You know what I want.”

  Glancing up at the ceiling, his eyes dropped back to mine. “Refresh my memory.”

  “Tell me who you sold Megan to, tell me who's responsible for killing her!” The air around me grew cold, filling my chest like sharp icicles.

  “You know our buyer information is confidential, Machi. I can't tell you anything.” Stepping around me, he glanced down at Ethan. “It's politics, that's all, just politics.”

  “Fuck you and your politics. Tell me who it was, maybe I'll spare you.” I lied, I lied like a fucking dog.

  And he knew it.

  I waited for him to rattle off the name of a buyer or the man who had trained her. But he didn't.

  Laughing, Sylvan lifted his eyes to mine. “She had a filthy, dirty, little mouth, Machi. She didn't deserve to live. Your sister was a fucking bitch. I had fun with that one.”

  “You—you did it?” Grinding my teeth together, I cocked my jaw out. “Why?” Feathering the trigger, my lips turned down.

  Squinting with one eye, he tilted his head. “Everything that I had given her, everything I had offered her, and you know what she had the fucking balls to do?” Holding up one hand, he wiggled his index finger. The tip was missing from end to knuckle, only a thick, round nub was left. “The bitch had the fucking nerve to bite me.”

  “You fucking piece of shit!” My muscles began to shake as everything around me began to sway. I was losing a lot of blood and it was making me lightheaded, causing Sylvan's figure to double and squish back into one form.

  Rolling his jaw around, his tongue licked over his lips, enjoying the look he saw he on my face. “You want to know the best part? You what to know what she said to me before I wrapped my hands around her fucking throat?” A sick grin twisted his lips up as his eyes fluttered in enjoyment. “Do you want to hear the words Megan White whispered into my ear before she died?”

  Veering my stare, I lifted the gun towards his head. “It doesn't matter what she said, what matters is that you never have the chance to do it again.”

  “She called for you, she yelled your name as if you would hear her screams.” Folding his arms over his chest, his stare pierced my chest. “She warned me that you wouldn't let me get away with it. And I laughed at her, I told her she was a foolish little druggie to think that anyone ever cared about her.” Shaking his head, his lids hooded. “Fuck, she was a pretty thing though, she knew how to suck one hell of a cock. It was hard to watch her lips turn blue and purple, but it felt incredible to feel her pulse slow down and watch her eyes glaze over. I hold the power, Machi, to take life or give life. Me.”

  Tears rested on my lids, knowing that she needed me, that she had hoped her voice could travel and I would hear her labored song. All my muscles shivered as the rage came to life and replaced the sadness I felt for those last moments she experienced.

  “You're wrong, Sylvan, I hold the power.” Clicking the trigger, the gun went off and he dropped to the floor like a rock.

  And as I stood over his lifeless body, breathing in the thick scent of gunpowder and watching the trickle of blood pool around his head, I felt nothing.

  Taking his life wasn't gratifying, it didn't fill me with happiness. I still felt empty, I still felt like I had nothing left. No matter how many times I replayed his death inside my head. . .

  It still wouldn't bring back my sister.

  And now, Imperial was gone too.

  I hadn't won the war, I still lost.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Imperial

  Plastic tie wraps trapped my wrists as I was led away, and I didn't look for him again. He was gone, a figment of my imagination now. Machi was my past, this man was my future.

  I'll keep fighting, nothing will stop me.

  Not him, not chains, whips, locks—nothing will keep me from making him regret buying me.

  The man spread the curtain apart, exposing the front entrance. I was struck by how plain he seemed to be. His shirt was a basic, red button-up with a black tie, his hair was brushed to the side, tucked neatly behind his ear. He wasn't overly tall or short, thick or thin, he just looked normal.

  I didn't recognize his face, but I wanted to hear him speak. Maybe I knew his voice, maybe he was one of the men at breakfast. Until he spoke, all I could do was wonder.

  The double doors smiled at me, the chain link lips spread up, twinkling in delight as we turned down a corridor I hadn't seen yet.

  My muscles twitched to break loose and charge the door, I had the chance before and I didn't take it. I let Machi thread me into his world like a stitch in fabric.

  But I had unraveled, dangling like a loose loop just waiting to be pulled.

  Machi told me to do what he had taught me.

  That was easier said than done. Machi made me feel safe, he let me speak freely when we were alone, he allowed my mind to have its own thoughts.

  I didn't know this other person at all.

  “Where. . . Where are we going?” I asked, crunching my lids slightly, afraid he might turn and slap me for speaking.

  The man stayed quiet, his breathing heavy and quick as we took turn after turn through the belly of the hotel.

  Please, don't take me upstairs. Don't take me to one of those rooms.

  I wanted to beg and plead with him to go easy on me. I hadn't endured the same training I assumed others had been through.

  My gut twisted, crumbling up like someone had reached inside and balled up my stomach like an empty bag.

  “Please, tell me where you're taking me. I—I need to know.”

  Flicking his eyes over his shoulder quickly, I saw sweat trickling down over his temple. But he still didn't speak, keeping his lips glued shut and darting his eyes forward.

  His hand squeezed around my forearm as he stopped at a solid blue door. Looking up, the small square sign blinked in red letters. Exit.

  Throwing open the door, I was hit with air that was salty and sweet. It splashed over my face, causing my chest to hiccup from the sudden chill.

  We're outside. He's taking me away, he's bringing me. . . Home.

  Thinking that word should have made me fill with joy and excitement. Home was where my life was and it was waiting for me to come back.

  But we weren't going to my home. . . We were going to his.

  'Meet your new master.' The announcer's voice bombarded my skull, layering my thoughts in new questions and filling my head with images no one should ever have to imagine.

  Stumbling over the ground, sharp burs cut my heels as I walked barefoot over a parking lot made of crushed shells and sea glass. The man walked briskly to a silver sedan and yanked the back door open.

  “Get in.” Guiding me inside, he leaned over before closing door. “Lay on the floor and don't come up until I tell you to.”

  I listened. I didn't question or argue with him about putting me on the floor like the family pet. Machi had been very clear, survival came from listening, it came from swallowing orders and just doing what I was asked to do.

  This man was uncharted territory. Was he mild-mannered and calm? Did he have a short fuse that could burst in a flash?

  I had no clue if he had compassion inside or if he was filled with anger he couldn't wait to unleash on me. I did what he said, lowering myself onto the itchy carpet and curling up behind the passenger's seat.

  The waves crashed on the rocks, spitting water onto the window. Looking up, I watched the stars twinkle overhead and the clouds slowly crawl around the moon.

  It was the first time I had been outside in two weeks. I wasn't sure why, bu
t the moon seemed brighter, the air cleaner, and the sky—it was the ocean for the stars.

  Staring into the night had never been more beautiful, so I let it embrace me, making a mental snapshot of the picture overhead.

  Because I had no idea if I'd ever get the chance to see it again.

  Pop!

  Perching my head up, I angled my ear towards the window. What the hell was that?

  “Stay down,” the man barked as he rustled the keys from his pocket and picked through them for the one he needed.

  Tucking my head under my arms, I tried to make sense of the noise I heard. It could have been anything; a car backfiring, a firework.

  Only it wasn't.

  Pop!

  A second shot rang out as the engine turned over and the man laid into the pedal. Grains of sand sprayed up, kicking back and pinging off the cars parked around us.

  The car pounced into motion, causing me to jerk forward and slam into the hard bottom of the seat. “Ahh!” I yelled, cradling my head in my hands to protect it.

  “Stay down!” Screaming, I heard his hands whip around the wheel as the car took a hard right.

  The motor revved high, each gear shifted into place with a violent grind. Peeking, I watched his eyes dart between the mirrors, watching all around us as we left the dark hotel in a heap of shadows.

  He looks nervous, or maybe he's anxious. He didn't look like the other men I had seen at the auction. This man was on edge, frantically rubbing his forehead. His eyes were huge, gaping open, unable to blink.

  Holding the wheel in one hand, he rummaged around in the center console and pulled out a small hand held radio. “This is Officer Bentley Roberts, I need officers to respond to Three seventy-seven Gordon Road. Shots have been fired! You hear me? Shots fired!”

  Officer?

  Shots fired?

  Everything around me began to surge and expand. My chest heaved, my pores opened like trenches as sweat drenched my neck and face.

  Gun shots—

  Oh my God, is Machi okay?

  Shooting up onto my knees, I yelled at the cop. “We have to go back! We need to go back! He might be hurt, we have to help him!”

  “Get down!” Digging his fingers into my shoulder, he pushed me back beneath the seat. “My guys are on the way, they'll be there soon. There's no way in hell I'm bringing you back there.”

  “But what if he's been shot? What if he needs me? I have to go help him!” Tears sprung to life as the severity of the situation set in.

  Machi had been my captor. . . But he was also my freedom.

  If he had risked everything to get me out, if they knew who Bentley was, they'd kill Machi in a fucking second.

  “Please!” I yelled, reaching for his arm. “Take me back!”

  “No!”

  “You have to!”

  “I'm sorry, we can't go back.” His eyes softened as he pulled his gaze off the road to look at me. “Imperial, are you okay?”

  I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to jump over the seat and hug him for what he did. I wanted to punch him and kick him and force him to take me back to Machi. I needed to know if he was okay, I had to know if he was still alive.

  “I'm okay, but I need to know if someone else is too.”

  “Right now I need you to stay down, don't come up until I tell you it's safe.”

  “What's happening? How do you know who I am?”

  Officer Roberts looked back out the windshield, squeezing the steering wheel in both hands. “Let's just say you have a guardian angel, and he led me right to you.”

  “Machi? Machi did this?”

  Smiling, Bentley kept his eyes on the road. “Feels good to have someone looking out for you, doesn't it?”

  Pushing up on my elbow, I scratched at my arm. “I had no idea he was doing this.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What happens now?”

  “Well, you'll go into protective custody for a little bit, until we know for sure you're absolutely safe. And then you go home, Imperial, you go home.”

  “What about Machi?”

  Pursing his lips, his eyes lowered to mine. “I don't have an answer for you.”

  The air in my lungs suddenly felt hot, searing my chest like sparks off a fire.

  I was safe now, Machi had held his promise, he sent me home.

  I owed him everything, I owed him my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Imperial

  “Miss Klein, do understand the severity of what we're dealing with here?”

  Nodding, I let my eyes settle over the detective's. “I do.”

  The detective had been trying to befriend me, acting like he was there for me, like he was on my side. He wasn't.

  If he had any concern for me at all, he wouldn't ignore my questions. I didn't like it, and I didn't like him. He was so fake, I could smell it through his pine tree scented cologne and dull eyes.

  His gray suit splayed open as he leaned over, revealing a burgundy dress shirt underneath. His hair reminded me of a stretched steel sponge. The silver curls were all looped together but tousled, like he had used a little too much gel and just threw his hands into his hair, spreading it without looking.

  “And you're requesting to not give us a statement? I don't understand, why would you protect the man who kidnapped you?”

  Shrugging my shoulder, I angled my chin into my chest. “He protected me, he kept me safe. Doesn't that mean anything?”

  There were two detectives sitting across from me, giving each other a confused look. They couldn't understand. Both of them expected me to be so rattled and upset that I'd spew a story that would help cement their case against Machi.

  But neither one considered what he did to set me free.

  Bad men don't go out of their way to help their captive escape, evil men don't expose the callous nature of the world they lived in; especially if they wanted to keep it whole.

  Machi took a risk and he led the police through an open door.

  Why would he do that if he wasn't working against the men inside?

  “Look, we don't want to put you through any more trauma. I know you've already been through enough.” The detective held his hand up, unsure of what to say or how to direct the interview. “But, Imperial, two men lost their lives, are you even thinking about that?”

  The lead detective had given me his name and introduced me to his partner when they first walked in the room. But I couldn't remember who was who, and honestly, I didn't really care.

  No one would tell me shit. Both men kept skirting around my questions, refusing to let me know if Machi had been hurt, or why they were treating him like the villain when all I could see was a hero.

  “Don't I deserve answers as much as you do?” Scooting my chair closer to the table, I laid my hands down flat. “Those men were not innocent, there's no doubt in my mind about that. I've seen the men they catered to, I've seen women with bruises and scars. So am I thinking about it—yes, I am. But I'm not going to tell you I feel bad about what happened to them. And you know why?” Lifting my chin, I stared right at them. “Because Machi saved me from them.”

  Rolling his eyes, the detective folded his hands over his notebook, clearing his throat. Forcing a smile, he spoke firm. “Miss Klein, this is serious, whether or not those men were bad isn't the issue. We know they were both pieces of shit, but that doesn't change what Machi did.” Perching his fingers up on the tips, he tapped the paper. “Murder is murder, and this. . . This was a cold-blooded execution.”

  Biting my bottom lip, my eyes flared wide. “Maybe you need to stop looking at what he did and take a better look at what he prevented. He stopped the sale of innocent women to sick perverts. He did what you guys couldn't do. . .” Pausing, my fists balled up on the cold table top. “He saved lives, so what if he took a few in the process. Why is he considered the bad guy when he did something good?”

  “That's not how it works. You don't get to decide on your own if som
eone should die. That's why we have a justice system.” Throwing himself back in the chair, he picked up his pen and started spinning it around. “If we all made decisions like that, the world would go to shit. Is that—”

  Throwing my back into the chair, I held my hands out, stopping him from talking. “I want to talk to Officer Roberts.”

  Cutting the air with his hand, he said, “No, we're here, so talk to us.”

  Folding my arms over my chest, I tucked my fingers deep into my ribs. “Looks like we're done then.”

  I wasn't going to tell them one more word until I got answers of my own.

  If Machi trusted Bentley enough to ask him for help, then maybe he was the one I needed to talk to instead.

  The two men exchanged a glance, both of them standing up at the same time. “Give us some time, we'll see what we can do.”

  I sat in the room for what seemed like hours. It was strange to be in another place that kept time hidden from view. In this room I didn't have the luxury of noise from the outside world to hint at how much time had passed.

  The silence was screwing with my head, making it jump from thought to thought. I was worried about Machi and whether he was all right, I was afraid that they were going to take the man I loved and lock him up forever.

  I wasn't sure how I would handle it if it came to that. If the police couldn't see the good in what he did, if they chose to only see him as a murderer; what purpose would his life have?

  He would lose everything if this world couldn't turn a blind eye to the nature of his actions.

  Laying my head on the table, I closed my eyes and wished that I could just talk to Machi myself. I wanted to thank him for everything he had done, for keeping his promise and setting me free.

  The door swung open slowly, poking his head inside, the detective pointed at me. “You have twenty minutes, after that, we want answers.”

  Sitting tall, I braided my fingers together and nodded.

  Bentley stepped past the man, taking the door and closing it behind him. “How you holding up?” he asked, taking the seat in front of me.