Fourth Fight

by Mary Abshire

  Jenny fixed her gaze on Emily. Anger lurked in her watery eyes. Emily suspected Jenny blamed Emily for their situation. After all, Emily had been the one who’d picked them out and led them into the van.

  Emily closed her one eye and fought the regret trying to swallow her whole. She’d sent four girls into slavery in Vancouver. Another four shared the same fate. How could she have let such horror happen?

  She swallowed the regret as deep as she could. The past was the past. Four ladies were still alive with her. Somehow she had to escape and set them free. She wouldn’t leave without them, even if it meant giving up her life for them. Since she’d gotten them involved, she now had to get them to safety.

  Filled with anger and resolve, she opened her eye. Of course, Don was still watching her.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked him.

  “The owner will decide what to do with everyone. I came along to have a little fun with you.”

  “Why? I’m a slave now, right?”

  “There’s more to you. I saw it the first day. You’re like an onion and the layers have to be peeled off to get to the truth. That’s kind of what I plan to do. But don’t worry, I won’t disfigure you. The owner would lose money if I did that.”

  She despised him more than ever now. Death couldn’t claim him soon enough.

  She licked her salty upper lip. “My husband will want to know where I am.”

  “Annie has plans for him. I suspect she’ll have him crawling in her bed within a few days.”

  Emily snorted. “She doesn’t know my husband very well.”

  “You don’t know Annie.”

  “Oh, but I do,” she said too proudly.

  He leaned forward, brows arched. “Really? Do tell.”

  Fuck, she’d just admitted she knew something about Annie. Now he had motive to do as much as he could to get her to talk. How stupid could she be? Maybe that was the angle she needed to take. Play the stupid, jealous woman who appeared on old episodes of Jerry Springer.

  “Just because that bitch has money to throw around doesn’t mean she can lure my husband into her bed,” she said. “Sure, she might be curvier than I am, but I guarantee I’m a better fuck.”

  He snickered as he straightened in his seat. “I certainly plan to find out.”

  She ground her teeth together and cursed herself for the last bit she’d said. The blows to her head must have jumbled her marbles because she continued to say things to get her into more trouble. She needed to keep her damn mouth shut.

  Time moved at the pace of a turtle. The bumpy drive almost put Emily to sleep. She opened her eye when the truck stopped. The driver spoke to someone outside. After a few minutes, the truck crawled forward. Not even a minute later it halted again. The sliding door to the window moved to reveal a Hispanic man. He spoke in Spanish and then shut the window.

  “We’re here,” Don said as he rose.

  The second the flap rolled up, the sun shined into the truck, blinding everyone. Men with guns stood around watching. One of them lowered the tailgate. After Don jumped down, two Hispanic men with dark hair and dressed in light-colored shirts and pants approached. They waved for everyone else to get out. Of course, the men had to help given all had their hands bound behind them. Emily waited to go last.

  A Hispanic with broader shoulders started speaking to Don in Spanish. He practically had a bald head as his hair had been trimmed super short. Don told him something and then the Hispanic pointed to a man in the group with a very thin mustache. He continued talking to other men in his native tongue. Emily suspected he might be some kind of leader. After he’d finished rambling, Don thanked him. The Spanish word was one of few Emily understood.

  One of the men grabbed Natalie’s arm while another took hold of Cheryl’s. The two wobbled slightly as they were led toward the closest building. Other guards pointed their automatic guns at Jenny and Pamela to encourage them to follow.

  “Come with me,” Don said to Emily as he reached for her.

  The Hispanic man with the line above his lip came to assist Don. Emily moved forward, hoping to avoid their touch, but both put their warm and sweaty hands on her arms. She glanced around as they escorted her. An eight-foot high concrete wall with razor wire at the top surrounded six buildings resembling houses. Four of the structures appeared habitable while two were in shabby condition, including the one she was heading to. At least they had roofs. Various trucks of all sizes had been parked by one building. Although she spotted two gated exits, only one had a guard post. The property couldn’t have been more than half a mile wide. Instead of grass, they had dirt under their feet. A few trees stood near two of the buildings.

  The long building everyone was heading toward had yellowish stucco walls. Bars were on some of the windows. The thin door looked flimsy. One kick could send it to pieces. Inside, the air wasn’t much cooler even though they were out of the sun. They passed by a normal-looking living room with old furniture and rugs on the floor. A small boxy television sat in the corner. A wall with a large square cutout separated the living room and kitchen area.

  They proceeded down a hall, passing a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. The guards led the girls to a room and one of them began crying. Her gag muffled her pleas, but Emily could still hear them. Pamela had tried to pull away and held up the line for Jenny and Emily. When Emily finally made it past the open door, she understood the reason for their distress.

  The guards shoved the women into the individual cages before freeing their arms and removing the gags. Three prisons on each side of the room stretched from the floor to the ceiling and were maybe four feet wide. Each one had upside-down buckets and a blanket. Bars over the painted windows in the room prevented any escape. While the men locked each of the women in a cell, Don forced Emily forward to a door in the back of the room. The Hispanic man at her side lowered his weapon and then withdrew a small ring of keys.

  “You and I have some business to discuss,” Don said close to her ear.

  A chill ran down her spine as the guard opened the door. For the first time she realized she was alone and in dire straits. There was no way Troy or Andrew could come to her aid so fast. Whatever atrocity Don planned for her, she’d have to suffer through it. She prayed he wouldn’t rape her.

  The large room stank of rot and chemicals. Two chairs faced each other near the center. Absent tiles in the ceiling revealed the wood frame, pipes, electrical wires, and the roof higher above. Two long florescent lights hung from the two by fours. A chain with a large hook dangled from one of the pipes on the right side of the room. A tall wooden dresser stood near table. Both had been pushed up against the sidewall closest to the chain. Above the table, flies buzzed near shelves stacked with jars and various small tools. Emily froze in shock when she recognized some of the instruments.

  Don shoved her forward, causing her to stumble. “Don’t wimp out on me now. The fun is about to begin.”

  He said something to the guard Emily couldn’t understand. After Don finished and obtained a nod, the guard closed and locked the door, drowning the pleas from the ladies. He headed for the table as Don moved close behind her. The Hispanic set his weapon on the table while Don worked to remove the rope binding her wrists.

  Her pulse continued to speed while her nerves had her stomach twisted in knots. ‘I don’t have any information of value to you. I’m not a cop or anything. I swear it. If you think torture will get me to talk, you’re wasting your time.”

  “We’ll see,” Don said.

  He held onto one of her wrists and let the other go free. She didn’t have time to fight since the guard was two feet in front of her. He took hold of her forearm in one hand and used his other to grip the front of her tight jeans. Her instinct kicked in and she tried to jerk away from both men. She bumped into Don’s hard body and it felt like hitting a brick wall.

  Don grabbed her hair and then pulled her head back. “Easy now, this doesn’t have to hurt.”

  His words
didn’t stop her from trying to move her arms. The guard pushed her jeans down as much as he could and then he removed her boots. He finished tugging off her pants, leaving her barefoot in her bikini underwear. Fear kicked in and the strong beat of her heart vibrated up in her throat.

  “Don’t do this. Please.” Her head stung and ached from him holding it back so far.

  Don yanked her jacket back from her shoulder. “Now, now. Don’t get all shaken up.”

  The guard shoved the other side of her jacket away from her arm. Together, the men pushed the coat off. She tried to get her arms free from their grasp long enough to do something, but it only made Don pull her head back further. After her jacket fell to the floor near her feet, the guard tugged up her blouse.

  “No. No!” She wriggled, trying to get free.

  “Stop moving or he’ll rip it off,” Don said.

  Fear fueled her heart and actions. She refused to stand by and let them undress her. The guard’s grip on her arm wasn’t as strong as Don’s. When he removed his grasp to push her arm through the hole of her top, she jerked her arm forward and then back so fast he lost his hold of her. She elbowed Don in his ribs and he made an oomph sound. Not wasting a second, she threw a kick between the guard’s legs. He grunted before he stumbled back.

  Don shoved her down before he let go of her. Avoiding a run in with the concrete floor, she swung her arms out to balance herself and braced her legs. Her hair clung to her sweaty face.

  Before she could straighten, Don spun her to face him. “I knew there was fight left in you.”

  He gripped both her wrists. She yanked her foot up, trying to catch him in the balls like she had with the guard. His reflexes were too quick. Don brought his knees together and blocked her effort.

  “You won’t get away with this,” she said.

  “I will. I am. Your husband can’t save you.” He chuckled.

  Warm fingers brushed her back under her hair and then she heard a ripping sound. Don held her hands together while the guard tore her shirt in several places until he stripped it away.

  “He will find me. And when he does, I will kill you,” she growled as she tugged her arms, trying to escape his hold.

  The grin on his face showed his disbelief in her words. “He can’t find you. There’s no way to track you. And if he could, he can’t get into the compound without taking a few bullets.”

  She refused to believe him. He didn’t know about Troy or his resources. Troy could find a way to save her.

  Taking her by surprise, Don jerked her toward his body. In one swift move, he head butted her. Sharp pain blanketed her skull and stung her ears. Her limbs turned to Jell-O and she fell to her knees. Don let go of her and she smacked the floor, landing on her backside. The blow to her head again brought a cloud of darkness. It threatened to swallow her, but she resisted. She tried to move, but her entire body weighed too much.

  The cold floor helped her fight the dark shadow. Someone with warm hands took hold of her forearms. The two men spoke in Spanish. Something scratched her wrists. The person holding her arms let them fall onto her stomach. She tried to recall the Billy Idol tune, but the thud in her head overpowered the song. She repeated the words from memory and slowly her clouded vision cleared enough to reveal two dark figures moving toward her. In the next second, they grabbed her arms and lifted her from the ground.

  She stood on unstable legs and was guided a few feet. Then one of them pushed her bound wrists above her head. The dark figure in front of her spun along with the room. She closed her eyes and felt as if she were floating. Her feet were touching the ground, but something above prevented her from falling.

  Smacks to her face helped her focus.

  “Snap out of it,” Don said. He hit her cheek a little harder.

  She opened her eyes. The room hadn’t stopped spinning. He gripped her chin and lifted it.

  “You’re going to talk, but I can’t make a mess of your girly bits. These men like to get as much money as they can. I’d hate for a complaint to get back to Christopher. But this doesn’t mean I can’t make use of other parts of your body,” Don said.

  “I have nothing … to say.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He walked away and headed for the dresser. Her sight hadn’t cleared enough for her to see what he was doing. She wiggled her fingers and tried to pull her hands down. The rope cut into her wrists as it had earlier. Although she had no other clothes on but her underwear and bra, her body still perspired. Sweat rolled down the center of her back.

  With no warning, someone tugged her head back. She heard a dulled cutting sound, then felt a brush of something on her calves. The sound continued along with the delicate scrapes. The person moved from one side to the other. When she no longer felt her locks against her back, she fought the tears filling her eyes.

  The slam of a drawer lifted her gaze. Don stepped closer with something in his hand. What looked like a robe fell to the floor. He swung it up at his side. The sharp snap stung her ears and made her flinch.

  “I’ve always wanted to use this. The others are just toys. But this…” He flung it again and it popped. “This is a true whip.”

  She bit her trembling lip as he stepped around her and out of her sight. Panic and fear flooded her all at once. The rope bit into her wrists as she pulled with as much strength as she could muster. Being beaten was one thing. Whipped to a bloody pulp was another.

  The snap sounded. She gasped as a razor-sharp knife sliced her skin. White-hot pain spread across her back. The crack of the whip brought another slash. She sucked in air as fast as she could. The searing sting was like nothing she’d ever felt, worse than any deep paper cut. He hit her again and again. Tears fell from her eyes and her legs weakened. Warm fluid rolled down her back. Her entire body felt as if she were on fire. Sweat and tears dripped from her chin.

  Silence ticked by as she waited for another gash. She knew it would come. He was waiting, terrifying her. When he stepped into view, she refused to look at him.

  “Ready to talk yet?” he asked.

  Her lips trembled. “I have nothing to say. My name is Carrie Reynolds. I’m not…” Throat dry, she swallowed. “Not a cop.”

  He brought the handle of the whip up to her cheek. She backed away from it. He slowly brought it down over her breasts.

  “I can keep going for as long as it takes,” he said.

  Panic sped her breathing. “I’m not lying.”

  “You’re hiding something. You were asking too many questions for a reason.”

  He walked past her, out of her sight again. She clenched her fists in anticipation. But when the first incision came, it hurt worse than any of the others. He sliced her back again and she cried out. Each sharp cut ignited a world of fiery pain. She wanted her suffering to end, but the bastard kept tearing her to pieces.

  She screamed until her throat hurt. She was dripping wet from tears and sweat. Fluid trickled down the back of her legs. Her spine ached fiercely. Misery chewed her up with piranha teeth. Her knees weakened. He wouldn’t stop and she wouldn’t tell him anything.

  Feverish, drenched, and losing consciousness, she was drowning in agony. The damage to her back would scar her forever. The memory of her torture would never leave her mind. But she could survive. Couldn’t she?

  She loved Andrew. Flashes of him making her laugh popped into her head. He made her happy. He loved her with all his heart. She would miss his touch, his kisses. She would miss him.

  The images of them together faded as the darkness swallowed her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Andrew strained to push the heavy weights above his chest. Moisture rolled into his eyes and he blinked to dull the slight burning sensation. Arms straight, he slowly lowered the weights. His muscles ached and his arms quivered as he forced the bar back up. He had to keep going. He had to maintain his strength for Emily.

  Anger and frustration drove him to work harder. He’d spent the last three
hours in the gym. A full day had passed since he’d arrived back at the mansion. Troy had made it to Mexico, but he’d lost track of Don’s GPS before he’d arrived. Troy was now blind and without resources to access. Worse yet, he couldn’t speak Spanish very well. He waited in a hotel for information from Andrew. Until Matt came through with news, Andrew had nothing. And that made him furious. To avoid doing something he would regret, he released his built up emotions through exercise.

  The soreness in Andrew’s body along with the shaking indicated he’d strained his muscles enough and they needed a break. He lifted the weights and then set the bar on the rest. After he slid from underneath the barbell, he grabbed the bottle of water on the floor. Sweat ran down his chest. Sitting on the bench with only a pair of shorts on, he downed the cool liquid.

  The front door to the gym swung open. Matt removed his shades before he reached the next door. Andrew shot up as Matt walked into the room.

  “Blowing off some steam?” Matt asked while he approached.

  “Have you heard anything?” The words flew from Andrew.

  “No, nothing from Don. I’m sorry.”

  “What about—”

  “Annie hasn’t heard anything either.”

  Andrew’s mood deflated quicker than a balloon. He’d hoped Matt would have some new information.

  Matt pointed his thumb behind him. “I have to run to get a few supplies. Care to join me?”

  Andrew almost laughed. Sweat coated his body and his foul attitude about the lack of progress to find Emily made him poor company. “I don’t think you want me around right now.”