Ungoverned: A Thriller and Suspense Novel (Ungoverned Series Book 1)

by Shawn Raiford

  Bradley saw another man walk up, behind Martin, a guard.

  Bradley nodded at Martin, pointing with his chin, letting him know about the guard’s presence.

  Martin smiled, and waved. “Ah, don’t worry about him, he knows.”

  “‘He knows’? About wh…” He felt a lump of fear growing in his stomach as several Hispanic men entered the laundry room.

  They looked menacing.

  Bradley cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”

  Martin turned back towards the guard, nodded. The guard nodded back, and left them.

  He backed up into a chubby, bald Hispanic. “What’s going on, Martin?” He turned around and realized he was surrounded by a lot of men.

  Pointing at him, Martin asked, “You skated on something didn’t you, Little Hitler?”

  He didn’t like being called that, but he let it go. “What do you mean?”

  “Did you get away with murder?”

  He counted nine men standing behind Martin, and four stood behind Bradley. All stood still as if they were statues of granite.

  Martin stared at him. “Did you know my daughter was murdered?”

  “I’m sorry Martin about your daughter, but I’m not sure why…”

  “Her name was Samantha!”

  All of a sudden Bradley’s knees became weak, almost falling down to the floor. A couple of men grabbed him under his armpits, holding him up.

  “My friend, Rose, told me you knew my daughter. She told me that my ex-junkie wife sold Samantha to you. Is she right?” Martin asked, his grin disappeared into a frown.

  “Please Martin, I don’t want any trouble. I want to do my time and…”

  “And what, Little Hitler?”

  Bradley whimpered. He wouldn’t be able to handle the pain.

  “You want to do your time, get out of prison, because you want to buy and rape other little girls?”

  A big, much bigger than Martin, man stepped forward and asked, “Yo, how old was your daughter, Martin?”

  He sighed. “Samantha was only ten years old. Samantha was my little girl, mi princesa. I tell you what, I didn’t know if was going to make it. I thought about hanging myself. I questioned God. How could this have happened. But you know what, today I don’t question anymore. God takes things and people away, but he gives us things and people too.”

  Bradly said nothing.

  Martin pointed at him. “She was raped, then strangled to death a few months ago. And this is the man who did it.”

  Everyone stared at him, and he wondered if he was about to die. “I’m sorry!”

  Martin turned and faced the others. “Does anybody want some white ass? It’s free!”

  The men got excited at the idea of raping Bradley. Two men dragged him to the side of the table used for folding, bent him over the table. It was useless to resist, but he did anyway. These men were too strong.

  They held him down and another man pulled down Bradley’s pants and underwear, exposing his buttocks like fresh fruit.

  Martin walked around the other side of the table to face Bradley, kneeling, and meeting Bradley’s eyes. His chin rested on his hands. “Bradley, you raped my daughter and then you killed her. Do you think that I should let you go?”

  Craning his neck, he saw around ten of them, lined up behind Bradley. The first man in line stepped up and reached down, rubbing his ass.

  “Please don’t.”

  The first man in line pulled down his pants, showing an erect penis.

  Martin asked, “Did Samantha cry when you raped her?”

  Bradley glanced up. “Please, don’t do this!”

  He waved at the man standing behind Bradley. “Go ahead!”

  All the men in line began cheering.

  “No, please Martin! I have money!”

  Martin leaned over, and his mouth wasn’t far away from Bradley’s ears. “This is just the beginning. You belong to me now. You’re my property.” He straightened and crossed his arms, smiling. “You’ll get a life sentence after I frame you for killing someone in here. The only way you’re going to leave is in a body bag, Bradley Miller.”

  He felt the first man move into position behind him. The prisoner rubbed something cold on his ass. The prisoner entered him violently. Bradley couldn’t believe how bad it hurt. “STOP! PLEASE!”

  Martin said nothing.

  Unbearable pain pulsated throughout his entire body, emanating from his rectum. “Oh my God! It hurts, please stop!”

  God?

  Bradley screamed like a victim when multiple rapists penetrated him over and over again.

  Please, God, let me die!

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  Shawn Raiford

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  Human trafficking is modern-day slavery, and needs to be stopped!

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  Shawn was born and raised in Baytown, Texas. He has a B.S. in Electrical Technology from the University of Houston. He's worked as a Sales Engineer and Project Manager(Engineer) before happily trading his cubicle existence for a gig as an indie author.

  Shawn lives with his wife, Lilly, in Houston, Texas.

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