Chapter 17 #2
And there was a silver serving tray sitting on her back, filled with a cup and saucer, sugar jar and milk boat, and a still-steaming kettle. No wonder she hadn’t moved so much as an inch since we entered the room.
Carl did not look ashamed as I turned my angered look on him. Instead, his expression dared me to challenge him, like I was judging his culture or religious beliefs instead of a sick and twisted lifestyle that was entirely a choice.
“Aero says they’re on their way,” Maisy said as she came into the room behind me. “They were waiting in Dover for our c—” She stopped mid-word as she finally saw what I had already seen. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t you fucking move,” I warned her father as Maisy rushed forward to the other woman.
She cleared the hazardous things off her back and then helped her to her feet.
“Take off your shirt and jacket,” I ordered Carl.
When he hesitated, I shot him in the knee with my silenced Desert Eagle.
“I said, take it off!” I shouted over the man’s cries of pain.
Knowing what went on in these rich people’s homes, I had no doubt the place was well insulated and maybe even soundproofed. Still, it was generally a good idea to silence gunshots in public places. Good Samaritans were such pains in the ass.
Carl struggled to disrobe and hand me his clothing. I handed the jacket to Maisy to help the woman who had been used as a coffee table before calling over my shoulder to the other one.
“I apologize for shouting,” I said softer as she came towards me. “But I can’t risk taking my eyes off him.”
“Trust me. If you’re getting me out of this and back to my family, there’s no apologies necessary,” she said as she took the shirt. I noticed she’d also removed the sponges from her feet. They must have found the key to her collar on Lorna’s unconscious body, because that was also gone.
“There’s no ‘if’,” I told her sternly. “All of you are getting out of this and back to your families. Besides the two of you, are there any other…servants?” I asked, wincing at the lack of a better wording.
“Two more.” She buttoned up Carl’s massive shirt over her much smaller body. It was practically a dress on her. “Maribelle is kept upstairs in the bathroom and Andrea would be in the kitchen.”
“This is in addition to the six who are for sale?” I clarified.
She nodded. “They’re on the second floor, locked in the…” She made a face. “Locked in the dungeon.”
Maisy came forward with the other woman, who was now draped in Carl’s suit jacket. “Tangaloa, we don’t need my dad to show us around, and keeping him hostage will only slow us down.”
She was right. I glanced at my brave girl who had her arm around the second woman, who was trying to muffle her tears into Carl’s long sleeves.
Looking to the first woman, I asked, “Got anything you want to gag him with?”
Her dark eyes widened slightly, and I was pretty sure it took a moment for her to catch on to what I was truly asking.
She rushed forward to where the tea tray was now on the floor.
Beside it was the fox-tailed butt plug the second woman had been wearing.
Maisy must have helped her remove it, which I thought was respectful of her.
Even covered, no doubt the woman was traumatized enough to not continue walking around with that hanging out of her.
With his hands trying to keep himself from bleeding out—he wouldn’t any time soon, I was nowhere near an artery—Carl was down on the not-so-white carpet sobbing pitifully.
“Open wide,” I instructed him, “or my next bullet shoots your pathetic excuse for a dick off.”
He only hesitated for a second before opening his mouth. The woman shoved the butt plug, tail and all, into his mouth. Then undid his belt and looped the leather around his head to secure it.
“Tighter,” the second woman sneered around her tears as the first woman went to lock it. I really needed to learn their names.
The first woman complied and pulled the belt to the next hole, practically cutting the leather into Carl’s face. I approved.
“Nicely done,” I said as kindly as I could to them.
Then I walked up to Carl and cracked him across the skull as I had done with his wife.
Another pair of zip ties later, and Mr. and Mrs. Donovan were bound, gagged, and placed a little too close to the lit fireplace than what was generally comfortable.
After Joselyn, the woman who had opened the door for us, introduced herself and the other woman, Kristen, to us, she led us to the kitchen.
It was also on the first floor. There we found Andrea, but she was not cooking as I expected her to be.
No, she was strapped naked to a table with her arms bound above her head, a latex mask over her face, and her legs bound in a butterfly position.
Candles burned all around her, and from the amount of wax on her body, they were not there for the aesthetics.
In front of her was a single chair, like she was the meal set on the table.
It took several long minutes to get her unbound, and by the time we did, there was another knock on the door.
I had no idea where Dover was, but I doubted it could be Aero and his Atlantic City brothers so soon.
Leaving Maisy with the three women, I went to the front door to deal with Arnold and company.
The rope that had once bound Andrea to the kitchen table now held Arnold and his three sons captive.
For good measure, I also shot each of them in the knee to keep them from trying to flee.
While I would have been more than happy to put the bullets in their heads, I was sure Aero and Hurricane would want a run at them to see what other information they had.
This was their territory after all, and they could hash out who went after whom once Maisy and I were on our way back home.
In the guest bathroom on the first floor, we found Maribelle.
A young woman in her early twenties who was tied on her knees over a drain.
Piss Slut was written on her forehead, and I prayed to whatever god was listening that it wasn’t permanent.
Her mouth was held open with a ring gag that also suppressed her tongue.
While her feet were not bound, she could not stand or escape due to her arms being forced out into a T by rope attaching them to rings on either side of the wall from her.
From the smell, she’d serviced at least one person since being tied down.
Like Jocelyn, she had nipple clamps attached to her breasts, though hers had weights attached.
As we got her unbound, I also discovered that she had a clit clamp as well.
I stepped back, allowing the woman privacy as Maisy and the others helped her.
I was so ready to kill these fuckers, but we still had to get to the six women Jocelyn said were upstairs waiting to be sold like livestock.
I hated myself for that analogy as soon as we entered the room on the second floor that Jocelyn had called the Donovans’ dungeon.
All six women had nooses around their necks, attaching them to the beam on the ceiling above them.
Naked, their legs were spread over a construction horse, forcing their genitals down onto the wooden edge.
Blocks were placed under their feet, and so long as they could keep themselves balanced in that position, they would be able to keep from either hanging or having to sit on the top of the construction horse.
To add insult to injury, their hands were also bound behind their backs and they had horse bits in their mouths.
It was fucking slow-going to get them unbound, and I hated that we had to go one by one to do it. But one slip up could harm or kill one of them if we rushed, and unfortunately for them, I was the only one strong enough to lift their body weight while the others worked to get them unbound.
I vowed vengeance for every one of their tears.
A man stepped into the doorway, and I had my gun trained on him a moment before I saw his Royal Bastards cut. I wasn’t wearing mine, because this was supposed to be a quick snatch and grab of Maisy’s parents.
“Aero?” I inquired as the man came forward. He’d attended Aloiki’s wedding, which I’d been more or less absent from. He likely recognized me from standing up with Aloiki before Lu’s emergency bathroom break, but he could have been any one of the bikers who attended.
“Introductions later,” he snapped, jumping right in. “What do you need from me?”
“Get my wahine off that fucking ladder,” I growled, pissed Maisy was the one who had climbed up to start cutting the nooses.
“Excuse me, pretty lady,” Aero said up to Maisy as two other men came into the room, also in cuts.
I noticed how Jocelyn placed herself in front of the other women, and thought that very admirable of her. “They’re with me,” I assured her as I lifted the third woman off the construction horse.
“That’s not the vote of confidence you think it is,” she snapped back, though I saw her relax slightly.
“I’ve been raped twice today and flogged for someone else’s sick pleasure.
Forgive me if I’m a bit wary to believe you.
You could just as easily be rivals looking to gain our trust before turning around and selling us yourselves. ”
That was a fair enough statement. None of the women had reason to trust me anymore than they did a stranger on the street. In hopes that it helped her anxiety, I handed Jocelyn my pocket knife. She could keep it if it made her feel safer.
With the help of Aero and his brothers, we were quickly able to get the rest of the women down.
“I’m leaving you four gifts downstairs,” I informed Aero. “The parents are coming with us. We have four more packages to pick up, then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“You’re certainly Paniolo’s,” Aero said with a crooked smile. “We’ll keep you informed of any information we find.”