Chapter 17 Brooks #2
“They must have saved all the gaudy decorations for the girls,” I say, already moving for the computer. This group seems to have pretty good tech, from what I’ve seen, but they’re also from New Orleans, and I’ve spent the last eighteen years living in either New York or LA.
I’m betting I know more about breaking into computers than they do about protecting them.
In the end, it’s ludicrously easy. They don’t even have the thing password-protected.
I boot it up and stare at the desktop, shocked at how easy it was to get in.
Then I start researching. The files are clearly labeled: a list of girls, a list of buyers, a list of possible destinations.
And, importantly, a list of the ships that take the girls out of here. Dates, ship names, shipping manifests.
I open up the list of girls first and scan it for Aislyn. I’ve been looking for her since I arrived, and still haven’t found her, and that bothers me. Has she already shipped out? Am I too late?
But her name is on the list, and the column marked for ‘exported’ isn’t checked yet. She’s here somewhere. I just have to find her.
I scan the list of buyers and destinations, but without my phone or even a pen or pencil, I have no way of recording anything.
I do a quick search in the drawers but don’t find a thumb drive anywhere, and even if I did, I don’t know how I’d hide it.
I’ll just have to hope my memory is up to the challenge of holding onto the information I’m looking at.
Finally I go to the list with the ship names and manifests. I need to know how much longer I have before I’m in real trouble.
The news there isn’t good. It looks like they do ship out once a week, on a fairly regular schedule.
One hundred girls per ship, which explains why they’ve expanded to other cities.
They must be going through the girls in New Orleans pretty quickly.
The list of buyers gave me more information, though.
They’re not just selling the girls internationally.
They’re selling them in this city, too, as high-end escorts and pets.
They’re making sure their families see them acting the slave to other men.
I don’t puzzle over that one for too long, because a short knock on the door tells me I’m nearly out of time.
I go back to the shipping list and look for the next ship date, then count backward on my fingers to figure out what it means.
I think I’ve been underground for twenty-four hours, which means it’s been three days since I got to New Orleans.
Six days since Aislyn was kidnapped. And she hasn’t been shipped yet, which means she was definitely one of the first girls for the current group.
I glance at the date in that next row, and my blood turns to ice in my veins.
If my calendar is right, and this manifest is correct, then I’m already in more trouble than I realized. I’ve done my math wrong somewhere. Or maybe they’re changing the schedule.
Because according to this, we ship out tomorrow night.
***
When I slide back out into the main room, I find that things out here have escalated.
There are several guards in the room, and they’re conducting what I can only describe as assessments on the girls.
Each girl is led in front of two guards and told to strip down in front of them.
Once they’re naked, they’re checked for any scars or imperfections.
They’re pinched and poked at like cows at a market.
And then they’re told to spread their legs.
The guards are sliding their fingers against their pussies, and then inside them, to see how they’ll react.
They’re taking their time on this part, too.
Saying they’re doing their research and making sure the girls will sell.
Their laughs are ugly and wicked, and I’m already curling my hands into fists, ready to kill each of them.
The girls have woken up enough to know what’s going on. And they’re sobbing.
I watch, not sure what to even do about this.
I have no weapons. I have no allies other than Kate.
I’m entirely at their mercy, and this is a position I’ve never been in before.
I hate it. I want to scream and kick and fight, and though I’m not sure how much good it will even do, I realize that I have to follow my instincts.
“Are you ready for this?” I mutter to Kate.
“Being felt up by the guards? No. I hope you’re talking about something a little more brilliant than that.”
I am.
“Follow my lead.”
I make for the guard feeling up the girl before anyone realizes I’m moving, and tackle him from behind.
He was enjoying his work and not expecting an attack, so he’s entirely relaxed, and that makes it easy to crawl his back and get into position.
I grab his chin in one hand and the back of his head in the other, and jerk with all my might.
His neck snaps like I hoped it would, and he falls to the ground, dead.
I’m already moving for another guard, intent on taking him out too, and out of the corner of my eye I can see that Kate’s already dispatched one on her own. Before I can get to the next guard, though, someone grabs me from behind, yanks my hands behind my back, and jerks me backward.
“Looks like we’ve got a live one here,” my captor mutters. “What’s the move, boss?”
A voice I haven’t heard before chuckles, and it drives chills down my spine. “Send her and the other bitch to Canal Street. No need to inspect them. I know who they are, and they’ll bring top dollar no matter how soiled they are.”
I’m shoved forward and have time to meet Kate’s eyes, registering her sudden flash of fear, before we’re pushed out the door and into the hallway, on our way to Canal Street. Whatever that means.
It’s big trouble, I know that much.
Because I have no idea what to expect there.
And I now know that I only have a day to get the fuck out of this noose before I’m sold and shipped to who knows where.
God, I hope Lucien’s doing something brilliant and sneaky that will get me out of here. I hope he realizes how quickly he has to move to save me—and Aislyn, wherever she is. And Kate, and all the girls I now feel responsible for.
I hope to fuck he’s not dead.