Snake Eyes

by Melissa Pearl

  “O-kay.” Gramps crossed his arms, his large eyes narrowing to tiny slits. “How’s Caity?”

  I swallowed, but it did nothing to remove the lump from my throat.

  “Where is she tonight?”

  I shrugged and shook my head.

  “Talk to me, boy.”

  My lips pressed into a tight line, my jaw clenching. Finally, I muttered, “She broke up with me.”

  “Why?”

  Unable to stand still a second longer, my arms lifted into the air and a loud expletive shot from my mouth. “How the hell should I know? It’s always the same! People just take off without any kind of explanation! Kenneth! Brayden! Richard!” I listed Mom’s slew of boyfriends, the ones who’d actually stuck around long enough to become important to me. “I don’t know why they can’t tough it out. Are we so unlovable? Is that what it is? I know Mom can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she’s really not that bad. And what the fuck is wrong with me?”

  Gramps stood strong against my rant, a solid lighthouse in the midst of my raging storm. His expression remained bland and unreadable as I shouted at him.

  “Why, Gramps? Why didn’t he stay?” My voice broke, tears blurring my vision. I dug my fingers into my eyes, hating that it was all surfacing. I should have been crying over Caity, not whining about my loser father.

  I sucked in a sharp sniff, lashing at the one tear that managed to break free.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I snatched my bag off the floor. “He’s gone. Caity’s gone. That’s just the way it is.”

  Gramps let out a soft sigh. “For what it’s worth, I love you, son.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re the only one.”

  He didn’t argue my final statement, probably knowing it would do no good. Instead, he let me walk out of the room without saying another word.

  I slammed my bedroom door shut and slumped onto the bed, the child inside of me weeping.

  I could hear the Dodgers game going on behind me, the yell of the crowd as runs were scored and bases were stolen. I’d stood with my hands in my pockets, shuffling my feet, kicking at the concrete as I waited...and waited.

  People passed me, a couple of the older parents stopping to ask if I was okay.

  “My dad’s coming. He’ll be here in just a sec.” They all smiled at me, satisfied with my enthusiastic answer.

  I’d said it for four hours straight, my enthusiasm not wavering until the crowd began to dribble out of the stadium.

  The game was over, and somehow I knew.

  There’d be no more waiting. There’d be no more let-downs.

  Dad wasn’t coming ever again, because I wasn’t going to let him hurt me anymore.

  I ran my hands through my hair and banged my head against the wall.

  Watching Caity run away shot me back to that moment in time faster than I thought it could.

  She didn’t want me...and I had to live with that, because I wasn’t going to let her hurt me the way Dad had. I couldn’t let her rejection destroy me. I had to man up and move on.

  With a heavy sigh, I laid down, bunching the pillow beneath my head.

  I wondered where she was right then. Probably hanging out with Quella’s family, getting drunk and dancing the night away.

  I didn’t get it.

  I didn’t get how Quella sucked her in so easily.

  I didn’t get the sudden change of heart.

  Trying to figure out her reason would probably send me over the edge, so I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the image of her beautiful face away...those eyes, that smile, the delicate curve of her chin.

  I couldn’t think of those things anymore. I was single now. My own man. She didn’t want me to take care of her. She wanted me to leave her alone and that was what I had to do.

  36

  Caitlyn

  The house was eerily quiet. I clutched the door handle to my guest room, breathing in slowly as I turned it. The click sounded deafening. I flinched, crouched against the door, waiting for Miguel or Diego to spring from the shadows and haul me into one of his ‘private’ rooms for questioning.

  At least I’d see what was behind those doors.

  I snapped my eyes shut at the thought. There were better ways to find out.

  Quietly sucking in a breath, I crept out of the room. It was two-thirty in the morning; the house had been silent for the last hour. It took forever for Quella to leave my room. She’d lain on my bed chatting away like a magpie until I’d pretended to drift off to sleep. She’d finally gotten the hint and left. As soon as the adjoining door shut, my eyes snapped open and I clutched the sheets to my chest, waiting for an opportunity.

  The cool tiles were cold on my bare feet. I descended the first curved set of stairs toward the entranceway. To my right was the corridor that led to the first private room off the second living area. It was closer, and I could sneak in and out then move on, but the one that piqued my interest earlier was that wooden door by the pool. I could tell Miguel wanted me to steer clear of all three, but it was that flash of panic on his face that made me turn left toward the pool area.

  I paused in the hallway, listening for any noises, but all I could hear was the soft cascading water. Pressing my body against the wall and feeling like a novice spy, I crept toward the sound.

  I reached the pool stairs quicker than I thought I would. Glancing over my shoulder, I felt the wall and used it as a guide to descend the stairs without falling on my ass.

  The black cellphone in my back pocket dug into my butt as I stopped by the pool and squashed myself into a shadow. I thought I’d heard something.

  My breathing was unsteady as I waited out the noise, but it never came again. I’d called Kaplan from my bathroom a few hours earlier while I was pretending to take a shower. It was Rhodes who answered. I’d rattled off my plan and he told me to be careful. They were waiting for my call.

  I gripped the wall, hoping to make it out of the ‘maintenance’ room in time.

  Sneaking around the pool, I headed for the door. It was locked. Rhodes told me it probably would be. Taking his advice, I felt around the door, reaching on my tiptoes above the frame before crouching down and scouring the wall. Panic sizzled through me. Nothing. My movements became frantic as my fingers skimmed every dark surface around the doorway.

  I was about to give in and call Rhodes. Maybe he’d have another idea.

  My fingers were so shaky when I pulled out the phone, it slipped out of my grasp and skidded across the tiles.

  “Shit!” I whispered, scrambling after it. “Please don’t be broken.”

  My nose wrinkled as I dove after it. With the serious lack of light, it was impossible to see anything. I slapped the cold corner it had slid into and finally found it. It was wedged underneath a crack of some kind. With a little difficulty, I pulled it free and heard a soft tink.

  I froze.

  What was that?

  My hand launched back into the space, scraping my knuckles on the rough wall.

  “Ouch.” I ignored the sting and dug my fingers into the space, the very tips brushing a flat, metal object. “Oh, thank you, God,” I breathed, wrestling it out of the space and sliding it toward me.

  With my shaking fingers it was a challenge collecting it off the slippery tiles, but I finally snatched it into my hand and squeezed tight. The phone in my other hand had a large crack running across the screen. I held my breath and turned it back on, nearly crying with relief when the screen lit up.

  Carefully sliding it back into my pocket, I moved to the door and jiggled the key into place.

  The deadbolt was a little stiff, but it eventually shifted. Once again, the door sounded loud and obnoxious in the quiet space. I winced, hurrying to shut it behind me.

  Leaning against the wood, I gulped in some air and tried to regulate my heartbeat. With the key safely in my pocket, I pulled my phone free and turned on the flashlight app. It was a closed room and I felt safe using it.

  I squinted against the insta
nt light, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted. A few moments later, I was able to see clearly and wasn’t surprised that there was absolutely no maintenance equipment in the closet. In fact, it was nothing but an empty room. I frowned, disheartened that my suspicions had been wrong.

  But, no, wait.

  I had seen the look on Miguel’s face. He did not want me in this room.

  Stepping forward, I ran my fingers along the empty walls. There was a power box on the left and empty shelves on the right. The wall in front of me was plain. I ran my hand over the smooth surface until my fingers hit the joint and I felt the whisper of air.

  “Hmmm.” Running my fingers all the way to the bottom, I shone my flashlight on the bottom edge and saw a definite gap. This wasn’t a wall; it was a door.

  I shoved my shoulder into it, trying to budge it free, but it wouldn’t give. Stepping back, I searched the room, looking for any kind of switch. My eyes landed on the power box. I flicked back the green casing and took in all the switches.

  “Great, which one?” I sighed, going on tiptoes to get a better look. The labels read:

  Lights 1.

  Lights 2.

  Waterfall lights.

  Deck lights.

  Pool heater.

  Pump

  I skimmed the writing until I reached the end of the second row. That one didn’t have a label.

  Biting on my lip, I cautiously reached for it.

  It was a risk. For all I knew, it could set off some kind of disco party or fireworks display in the pool area. That would get security running. My mind scrambled for a quick escape plan—run out, hide in the sauna.

  It wasn’t world-class, but it was enough to give me the courage to place my finger on the black switch.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and flicked it. A grumble sounded to my right and I opened my eyes to see the door shunt open.

  “Yes!” I whispered, slapping the green box shut and squeezing through the space. I checked the wall to make sure there was an out switch. I noticed a red button. Satisfied, I closed the heavy door with my butt and shone the flashlight around me.

  It was a passageway. The walls were rough, as if someone had carved out the tunnel with a pickaxe. I placed my hand on it to steady myself and shuffled into the darkness.

  After only a few steps it turned into a narrow staircase.

  Oh, man, what was down there?

  I had visions of it opening into a medieval torture chamber or something, because that was exactly what it felt like. Punchy breaths tore out of my mouth as I took one stair at a time. Wanting to keep my entrance as clandestine as possible, I flicked off my light and fumbled my way down.

  The stairwell was tight and curved in a spiral. I could tell I was getting near the end, because a soft glow lit the bottom stairs. I paused, my body going into silent protest.

  Move, Caity! I argued back.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I forced my limbs to obey. When I reached the bottom step, I couldn’t help an audible gasp. The sight before me broke my heart and made instant tears pop onto my lashes.

  In the middle of the dirt-floor, circular room was a single bulb with a string switch. It was the silent soldier watching over its prisoners. I blinked at my tears, taking in the cell doors with an aching heart. Thick metal bars crisscrossed over the doorways, behind them were a tangle of skinny limbs and slumped figures.

  I stepped into the room, running to the first cage. The two girls inside were huddled together on the floor, their locks of greasy hair straggly and lifeless. Their skinny arms were wrapped around one another as if trying to draw what strength and comfort they could. Their clothes were dirty and torn and I could see a large bruise on one face and thick finger marks on her arm. She must have struggled.

  “Who are you?” A small voice from the other side of the room caught my attention.

  I flinched, spinning at the sound. Scuffling over to her, I crouched down to look her in the eye.

  They were large, brown, and I knew them.

  “Angela?”

  Her bony fingers gripped the cage bars. “How do you know my name?”

  “Your family’s looking for you.”

  Her lips wobbled, fat tears popping out of her eyes as she sucked in a ragged breath. Her fingers trembled and she covered her mouth. “Help me,” she whispered.

  “We’re going to. It’s okay.” My voice grew with strength. I poked my hand through the bars, grasping her fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m working with the FBI and we’re going to get you out of here.”

  “There is no way out,” came a wooden voice from the next cage. “Unless you’re sold.”

  I shuffled over to see who was talking, but I didn’t recognize her. She looked to be about thirteen or fourteen. Her large, green eyes looked too big for her pale face. Her blonde hair was matted and dirty.

  “No one’s going to sell you.”

  “Yes, they will. Two were taken a couple of days ago, dragged out, screaming for their mothers.” Her voice wobbled.

  I clutched the bars. “Who?”

  “Rowena and Melanie,” Angela said. “They don’t use our names, though. We’re just a number.”

  “How does it work?” The question tasted vile in my mouth.

  “We’re cleaned up and put into nice clothes, our hair and makeup done, slinky dresses that show off our bodies.” Angela’s eyes were large and lifeless, her tone robotic.

  “They take us through a tunnel.” A skinny finger poked out from the cage. I turned to follow the direction and saw a heavy metal door in the corner of the room. I moved toward it.

  “Don’t!” one girl softly called.

  I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

  “They come through that way.”

  Heeding her warning, I moved back to crouch next to the girls.

  “Where does the tunnel lead?”

  “To this room with tinted windows and bright lights,” the girl two along from me pitched in.

  It was Janey...the Lacey look-a-like. I closed my eyes, thinking about her parents’ reaction when they found out their only child was alive.

  “We have to stand there and...” her voice pitched, “and then your number gets called and you’re taken into a room where the buyer can decide if he wants you.”

  “Who are the buyers?”

  “Rich, fat men with soulless eyes,” Angela spat.

  I felt sick. Acid burned my throat and I pinched my nose, squeezing my eyes shut to ward off the nausea.

  “If you don’t make a sale, you’re thrown back in here until the next time.”

  “I want to go home.” Janey leaned her head against the bars and started weeping, her sobs sounding pitiful in the dank room.

  “I’m going to get you there. I promise.” I stood, turning a slow circle and looking into each cage. All the girls were awake, their skinny faces peering through the bars. I counted eight.

  “How many have been sold so far?”

  “Ten or twelve?” one girl guessed.

  “But...we only know of twelve girls. No other kidnappings have been reported.”

  “Not all of us have families to report it.”

  I glanced at the girl next to Angela, the one I didn’t recognize.

  I squatted down beside her cage. “I’m getting you out and I’m gonna find you somewhere safe to live.”

  She didn’t believe me. I peeled off her mask and saw the resignation. She was going to be sold to some sick bastard who would use and abuse her until every ounce of innocence had been stripped from her soul.

  “I know you don’t believe me right now, but I will make it happen. The FBI is waiting for my call and they’re gonna bust in here and save you guys.”

  Angela let out a laughing sob, desperately wanting to buy into my speech.

  I whipped out my cellphone, thinking there was no time like the present. I was about to speed dial Kaplan when I noticed I had zero reception. I held it up with a frown, swearing softly to mysel
f.

  “I have to go and make this call.”

  A girl behind me whimpered.

  “It’s all right. This will all be over soon.”

  I backed out of the room, watching the girls carefully. I saw flickers of hope on some faces while others were blank slates, fear and abuse wiping them of all emotion. A protective shell had gone up around them in an attempt to keep them safe.

  My heel hit the first step and I steadied myself against the wall.

  “If anyone comes in here, don’t tell them you’ve seen me, okay?” They all nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

  37

  Caitlyn

  I bolted up the stairs two at a time, only tripping once. I was out of breath by the time I made it to the top. Seeing those pitiful girls in their wretched state had injected my body with renewed vigor. I checked the time on my watch, just after three a.m. I couldn’t wait to tell Kaplan to get her ass in here right now.

  Pressing the red button, I shuffled back into the “maintenance” room and then eased out of that door. Checking all was clear, I locked the door behind me and returned the key. It was probably unnecessary caution, but I did it anyway.

  I scurried into the pool area, looking for somewhere safe to make the call. It felt weird to think that any minute now, federal agents would be swarming in, guns at the ready. I couldn’t believe I’d found the girls so quickly. At this rate, I’d win my man back before the turkey was served.

  Standing by the glass, I looked over my shoulder, up at the dark stairwell. It felt so open and exposed to make the call from there. I checked my reception; I had a few more bars, but it wasn’t full. I didn’t want anything to disrupt this call. It was the most important one I’d ever make.

  As I eased around the pool, I caught a glimpse of something outside. Squinting my eyes, I padded toward it, spotting a small decking area. My eyes shot around each surface, looking for a door. It took me a minute to realize that one of the glass windows was actually a very narrow sliding door. I turned the latch and slid it open, easing out onto the small space. The fresh air was cool on my face, but it smelled good. The mountain air was so clean and inviting.