Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mindy
Muffled voices are what wake me. But as my eyes blink awake, all I can see is a black veil in front of my eyes with pieces of light poking through.
My head aches like I’ve been hit over the head, and I’m fading in and out of consciousness, like I’m floating on a buoy in the middle of an ocean.
Pain wakes me in pieces. A pounding behind my eyes. Pins and needles crawling up my arms like tiny spiders. The ache in my jaw that tells me I screamed and at some point and paid for it.
The van door opens, and from beneath the fabric I see bright blinding light.
Someone says something in Italian. It’s gruff, barking out like an order, seconds before I’m discarded to the ground.
My knees hit first, one man holding me still by my zip-tied hands, while the other rips off my hood. They’re all wearing black masks.
Except two.
Fuck.
“Thought you could get away from us that easily?” Moseley’s voice filters through the room, echoing off the massive walls of the old, abandoned warehouse. “I told you I have friends in places you’d never expect.”
He grips my cheeks, inspecting my face in disgust. “Who hit her?” he growls.
One of the men points at the man behind me, and I feel him start to shake, begging for his life in Italian. I don’t speak the language, but I can feel his fear vibrating every part of him.
BANG!
My scream is so loud, it makes all of them cover their ears. The high-pitched wail bounces off each corner like a ping-pong ball.
Somehow, I’m still alive, and my shoulders sag in relief.
“You’re no good to me dead!” Moseley exclaims, putting his gun away as the man behind me hits the ground with a thud.
He must see the terror in my eyes because he smirks, kneeling down so we’re looking at each other eye to eye. “What? Didn’t think I was capable of taking someone’s life, Ms. St. John?” he laughs maniacally. “Oh, sweet girl, how you’ve underestimated me.”
He caresses my face, but I shy away from it, his touch repulsing me as bile creeps up my throat.
“Don’t touch me!” I grit out, barely able to get out the words through the haze my head is still in.
Mosely frowns. “Put her with the others. Rico should be here soon with the plane.”
The plane? Oh shit, this is really happening!
The other man rips me to my feet, pushing me toward a room on the other side of the building. He opens the door, then throws me to the floor, barely missing the dirty feet of the women cowering in the corner.
The air is thick here. It smells like oil, rust, and a fear that’s been recycled too many times to count. He cuts my binds, freeing my hands so I can pull myself to my feet. Then the door locks behind me, sealing us into darkness.
“You can’t do this!” I scream, racing to my feet, trying the handle that won’t budge. My fists pound on the metal door, but all I hear is someone telling me to shut the fuck up before he shoots me.
I swallow hard, forcing the tears to stay behind my eyelids, hopelessness replacing my fight.
“Easy,” a woman’s voice murmurs from somewhere behind me. “You need to calm down. Fighting them won’t help you now.” She speaks perfect English, but her accent bleeds through, the smooth Italian husk taking over.
I turn my head, searching the darkness until I see her sitting against the wall on the opposite side of the room, knees pulled up, staring at me like she’s already been in my shoes.
She turns on a dimly lit lantern beside her, giving the room just enough light to make out the bruises blooming along her forearm, and across her face. “This is what you get when you fight.”
Her gaze shifts to the other girls in the corner. All of them small, some of them younger than fifteen. She’s the oldest of all of them, her beauty marred by someone else’s rage.
“This is what you get for protecting the little ones,” she says with a sigh, leaning her head back against the wall just as the lantern’s light starts to flicker. She turns it off again, bathing the room in darkness.
“The batteries are giving out on it,” she whispers.
“Who are you?” I ask her, moving so I can sit next to her on the floor. The cold metal bites into my back as I slide down it, my bones barely resting once I’m on the ground.
“I’m Antonia,” she says quietly. “You’re safe enough… for the moment.”
A hysterical laugh claws up my throat. “You have a funny definition of safe,” I whisper.
She stirs beside me. “I didn’t say safe. I said safe enough.”
“I’m Mindy.”
“I know,” she says, her voice sounding tired and weak.
My chest tightens. “How?”
“Because they won’t shut up about you.”
Voices echo from somewhere beyond the door. They’re slightly muffled, but I can hear their laughter, the boots thudding against hard concrete as they shuffle across the concrete.
Antonia leans in closer. “They aren’t happy that you ran away.”
My stomach drops. “But I didn’t run… I was just coming to celebrate my friend's vow renewal—”
She cuts me off. “In their eyes, that means nothing. Now you’re special to them—a challenging prize.”
“What do you mean?”
She tucks her head into her knees. “It doesn’t matter. Once that plane takes off, we’re all dead.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
She lifts her chin. “Wrong place. Wrong time. I thought it was because of who my brother is, but I quickly realized that they’ll take anyone that’s got tits and is pretty.”
I frown. “Who’s your brother?”
“He rides with the Fratellanza dei Demoni MC. His road name is Ombra. It means the shadow.”
Antonia sees a flicker of recognition in my eyes.
“You know of him?”
I shake my head. “No, but I have a biker of my own. His name is Krampus.”
She smiles. “That’s good.” Lifting her head again, she presses it against the wall, voice riddled with pain.
“If he’s anything like my brother, he’ll come,” she says with quiet certainty. “They always do.”
Before I can respond, we hear footsteps approaching, then the squeal of the rusty door’s hinges as it’s slowly opened.
Light filters in, blinding us all.
Rico steps into the light first, clapping lazily like we’ve put on a performance just for him. His suit is immaculate, as always, like filth can’t touch him no matter how deep he wades.
Moseley follows closely behind him, hands clasped behind his back, his smile thin and smug.
“We got her, Rico. Just as I promised. A fresh delivery right as the bell strikes midnight.”
Rico grins.
“You’re officially mine now, bitch.”
My blood turns to ice.
His eyes rake over Antonia, studying her with a strange fascination that makes my skin crawl.
“Well,” Rico drawls. “Look at this beauty. You’ve done well, Moseley. Not only have you brought me my property but also an appetizer for me to feast on.
“Careful,” she says coolly. “You’re not my type.”
Rico laughs. “I like her.” Then his eyes darken. “How much for the feisty one?”
Moseley shakes his head. “That one’s not for sale.”
Rico whips around without warning, digging his gun into Moseley’s fat, double chin. “And why not?”
“Because she’s promised to someone else and is already paid for.”
“I’ll give you double!” he says, eyes darting back to Antonia, who is clutching my hand.
“I’m sorry, she’s already sold.”
The gun whips across Moseley’s face before he can stop it, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“You stupid, fat, fuck. I didn’t ask you if she was sold. I told you I’d pay double!”
Moseley wipes blood away from his lips but says nothing.
“What about the little one?” Rico questions, eyes focusing on a small girl no more than ten.
“She’s for sale, but her price is pretty hefty.”
Rico seems pleased. Hungry. That vile smile spreads the further his gaze lingers on the helpless child in the corner.
“I’ll take her.”
Moseley scrambles to his feet. “When?”
Rico toys with his gun. “How about now? It’s been a few hours since my dick last got wet. Would love to see it streaked in blood.”
Moseley cringes, but motions to some men behind him to grab the girl. “Done.”
Instantly, I’m on my feet.
“You’re not fucking touching her!” I shout, putting my body in front of the frightened girls shaking behind me.
“Move, bitch, this doesn’t concern you.”
He points his gun at me, but I’m not afraid. I’ll do anything to protect this little child, even give up my own life.
“You’re going to have to kill me to get her.”
He toys with his pistol. “That can be arranged.”
The men come marching in violently, pushing me out of the way as they grab the girl from off the ground, her panicked screams filling the air as tears march down her face.
“Take me instead!” I shout. “You wanna fuck, right? So take me! I know I’m not what you want right now, but I’ll let you do anything to me you want. Just don’t hurt the girl.”
“Anything?” he says, voice dripping with intrigue.
“Anything.”
With a single nod, the tiny girl is thrown back to the ground, scrambling over to Antonia, who protectively clutches her.
“You’re going to wish you never said that,” he growls, his warning loud and clear.
He grips me by the arm, forcing me out of the room and towards another next door. His fingers dig into my flesh, the pain shooting straight up my arms.
He takes off his belt, the metal clanking against the concrete before it’s slashed against my back, the buckle biting into my skin and ripping it apart.
He hits me again, and again, eliciting screams I didn’t know were fucking possible.
“You thought you could run away from me, little bitch!” He rips me off my knees, gripping me by my hair, gun digging into my chin as he settles in behind me, his cock already hard. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” His expensive cologne fills my nostrils, making my tummy coil in disgust.
Still, I say nothing, my life meaning less to me than that little girl’s innocence.
“The sad part is, you think you’re protecting her.” He licks my face, his slimy tongue causing me to shiver. “You’re just the appetizer. When I’m done with you, I’ll be going in for my main course, and finish off will a little cherry for dessert.”
“You’re disgusting!” I bite out, even though the pain is ripping through my spine. My jaw tightens as he slowly drags his hand down my chest, gripping my breasts painfully.
“But at the end of this, I’ll be fucking satisfied, and you, you’ll just be dead.”
He whips me around, forcing me to stare up at his menacing eyes as his zipper slowly drags down and the button of his slacks is popped.
The cold metal of his revolver moves past my lips, the taste of gunpowder sticking to my gun like glue.
“I could take your life now,” he teases, moving the barrel between my lips as he sways his hips back and forth like he’s thrusting into me.
“Or I could have a little taste, then compare you to the others. Who do you think will be sweeter? A haggard baker that no one can save?” He pulls the gun out of my mouth, gripping my head harder when I try to fight him.
He drags the barrel down the side of my face.
“A feisty Italian dream that can’t keep her tongue. ”
He strokes his cock, gun still in hand, staring down at me with a repugnant hunger in his eyes. “Or the sweet little cherry no one has had a chance to taste.”
He drags me to my feet, kissing me aggressively. “My money’s on the sweet little cherry.”
My teeth bite into his flesh, tearing away a chunk of his lip, until blood fills my mouth.
Rico backhands me, the pistol cracking my jaw as she tries to stop the bleeding. “You stupid fucking bitch! You’re gonna pay for that.”
He clicks back the hammer, chest heaving with rage, eyes swirling with so much hostility it’s bleeding through the concrete floor.
I don’t beg for my life, already too humiliated and traumatized to give him the satisfaction.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your little Beast meets you in the afterlife.” His finger curls around the trigger just as I close my eyes.
BANG!