Chapter 26 #3
There isn't a single woman in sight, and although it should surprise me, it doesn't. I overhear chatter about jobs they've done, crimes they've committed, and whispers of plans for the upcoming week.
If they see women as tools, then it's unlikely that they'll discuss that sort of shit in front of them.
I don't doubt some of these pieces of shit brag about what they have or what they've done when they're alone with one of them.
Zayne doesn't search for me in the group, and I don't know if it's because I'm just an afterthought or because he trusts I can play my role without his supervision.
Either way, not having his attention is a little unnerving, and if I'm being honest with myself about how detrimental that can be for this mission, I know this is really something I need to get in check.
I have a sinking feeling that the powers that be at Cerberus were somehow well aware of my connection to Zayne Harmond. And I don't mean that they were aware we were from the same area growing up, but that there was more there than a passing friendship.
It makes me question their motives in putting us together on this mission and what their expected outcome is beyond taking these assholes down.
"Hey."
I look up, ready to sneer at whoever thought it was okay to bother me, but seeing Bobby makes me keep that shit a little better in check.
"You mind?" he asks, pointing to the lawn chair situated beside me.
"Would it matter?" I mutter.
Playing the asshole with everyone but him wouldn't fit my character, and honestly, I don't know if I could pull it off in a believable way if I tried.
He chuckles, pulling the chair just a little further away before sitting down, making his answer to my question very clear.
He stares around the group, raising his beer in the direction of several people. They lift theirs, smiles in place, but it doesn't take long before I notice people slowly putting distance between themselves and their beloved leader.
In my experience, most people who are happy in a group would gravitate toward the man in charge, if anything, to possibly get a leg up on others in the group.
Either Bobby doesn't seem to notice, he's gotten used to people inching away, or they have been instructed to behave this way.
Understanding the reasoning would be a great help in determining just how much loyalty these people have to him.
"They act like you have body odor or something," I grunt, calling their behavior out.
I don't have a fucking ounce of loyalty to anyone here but Zayne, and he's on the far side of the fire talking with a group of men.
I have no doubt that he noticed Bobby had walked up.
He doesn't seem to miss much, but it would be weird for him to stop mid-sentence to run to the leader for attention.
Bobby chuckles around the lip of his beer bottle before taking a pull.
"He's…" he says, angling his beer in one guy's direction so the man knows exactly who he's talking about. "On my shit list because he went on a bender and disappeared for two days."
"Not good," I respond.
"That one…" he says about another man who put distance between the two of them but never lost his attention. "He's afraid I'm going to give him extra work, and he's a lazy motherfucker. And that one..."
I follow the point of his beer bottle to a man brave enough to be glaring in this direction.
"I fucked his wife last night, and there isn't shit he can do about it."
Bobby lifts his beer bottle in a toast to the man, and as angry as he seems, he doesn't disrespect him by ignoring the gesture. The other man lifts his beer bottle, despite the glower on his angry face.
"Did she want it?"
I feel his eyes shift in my direction. But rather than looking at him immediately, I watch the other guy, noticing him muttering something to another man, the second he's lost Bobby's full attention.
Whatever loyalty that man may have had to Bobby is gone, but the threat of what the man could do to him is more than likely enough to keep him in check.
"Why do you think he's so mad?" Bobby asks with a wide grin when I turn my eyes in his direction. "They all want a chance to fuck the man in charge."
I know there's a difference in enthusiastically wanting to have sex with someone and performing acts because it's either an expected obligation or out of fear if they say no. A lot of men don't see it as a sexual assault unless the woman fights back.
The number of times in this job I've heard "She said no, but she lay there and took it" as justification for why what they did wasn't a crime is countless.
"You fuck them all?" I ask, trying my best to hide the disgust I feel at the notion.
I don't give a fuck who you are, what you have, or what position of power you hold. There's little to no chance that every woman in your vicinity wants on your dick.
"You can, too," he answers with a chuckle. "If I allow it."
Before I can tell him he's the biggest piece of shit that walks the earth, a loud bell rings out. My first instinct is to freeze and assess the threat, but when another guy whoops with enthusiasm, I know I'm not in any danger.
At least I presume I'm not in danger, and then a long line of fucking women filters into the group.
I glance through the fire, noticing Zayne looking in my direction, and I already know what the fuck this is about. I considered the possibility while mentally preparing for this mission, but my focus was diverted by Zayne's arrival. I'm not saying it's his fault, but it still leaves me unprepared.
The fire dances around smiling faces, the men fully ready to get this part of the night going.
The women look enthusiastic, but some hint they aren't exactly excited to be here.
It's in the way they flinch when a man pulls them close, and the way their eyes seem distant as if they're here in body but not in mind.
Their actions and their wants don't align, and I consider any sexual act conducted in those conditions as assault. Someone doesn't have to be threatened or hurt to get compliance from them. Coercion, either through looks or seeing what happens to someone else if they refuse, is a form of abuse.
I try to divert my attention, but the women lining up in front of us make it impossible to keep acting like they don't exist.
I want to puke at the grins on their faces, at the way they're acting as if they see it as a reward if they're selected. Some of that enthusiasm may be real, but once again, what are the chances they all want to be here?
"Preference?" Bobby asks, lifting his hand and making a twirling motion.
As if performing a choreographed routine, they all spin in sync with each other.
"Blonde, brunette, thick, thin, young, old?" Bobby asks.
"I like 'em all," I say, an extra added slur to my voice as if I've drunk a lot more tonight than half a fucking beer.
There isn't a fucking chance I'll touch any of these women.
I look across the fire again, noticing a wide smile on Zayne's face as he stares down at the tiny woman in front of him. We never spoke about boundaries or expectations for this particular mission, but I know Cerberus would rather us burn a fucking case than hurt someone who doesn't deserve it.
What I don't know is if Zayne got that fucking memo. I don't know what his operating procedures were with the other organizations he worked with. Maybe it was okay to follow through with some shit if the woman seemed willing.
"You got it," Bobby says, and I want to cower when he waves his hand a second time, and all the women start walking in my direction. "Sasha, you stay with me."
I glance over at the one instructed to break off from the group and notice that Bobby has picked the youngest-looking one. I can't tell if the girl is underage or what, but she looks young as hell.
Of course, he'd like the young ones. I'm sure it's why there have been several cases with teens running away and going missing in the surrounding areas recently.
As if I've inherited a harem, the women cluster around me. One on my lap, one behind me rubbing my shoulders, and two at my feet, hands wandering over my legs.
"Careful, sweetheart," I tell the girl sitting on my lap when her hand runs down the front of my jeans. "It bites."
She chuckles, but the relief swimming in her eyes when she pulls her hand away tells me everything I need to know.
The threat of vomit clogs my throat. I know where the fucking line is in all of this, and even though I haven't touched one of these women, it makes me no less complicit in their victimization.
I chase the nausea with my beer, draining the damn thing.
"Want me to get you another?" the girl on my lap asks, and I dip my head, handing her the empty bottle, soaking up the relief when she stands and walks away.
I keep Bobby in my periphery, trying to decide when to step in if he gets too involved with the young girl beside him, but she's simply crouched on the ground, his hand resting on her head like a fucking puppy.
The men seem happy. Well, all accept the one Bobby claimed is mad about the wife. That man is over to the side, arguing with someone I presume is his wife.
Movement catches my eyes, and I watch as a man grabs a woman by the hand, her feet digging into the dirt for a brief second as he pulls on her before she gives up and starts to walk away with him.
My hands grip the armrests of my chair, ready to jump and beat that guy's ass, but before I can stand, Bobby speaks.
"Time for bed," he yells as he stands, making the man walking away stop in his tracks.
I watch as his shoulders fall in disappointment, but he immediately releases the woman's hand, who doesn't hesitate to put some distance between the two of them.
"You all have to work in the morning," Bobby says, looking down at the girl still crouched at his feet. "You run along, too, Sasha."
The women scurry away, disappearing into the darkness as the men watch them leave, disappointment etched on their faces.
No one complains. Not one man walks up and demands his chance with one of the women.
He has them trained well. I have no doubt that these men have learned how to behave just the way the women have, either through punishment or coercion, watching others get punished for doing what they'd all like to do.
I stand, stretching my arms over my head, hiding a grin when I make myself imposing enough that Bobby takes half a step back.
"Great party."
I glance up, relief washing over me at the sight of Zayne standing there.
"I'm going to put the two of you on a scouting job tomorrow," Bobby says.
"Scouting?" I ask before thinking twice.
"Just need a cozy little place for some friends," he answers.
I glance at my partner, feeling a little less lost when it seems like he knows exactly what Bobby wants from us.
"You got it," Zayne says, rubbing his hands together like an eager little kid standing in front of a nickel candy display, gripping a five-dollar bill. "Mind if I keep my oil change appointment first? That junker I have has to be babied more than a woman with a restraining order."
Bobby chuckles as if he has experience with just that. "No problem. Just don't come back empty-handed."
When Bobby walks off, we don't wait to make our way back to our little piece of fucking heaven.
I have a million questions, a million things I need to know going forward, but the opportunity isn't given with the listening device planted in our area.
Instead of finding a piece of paper and a pen, I just stare at Zayne as he strips down to his boxers, having more faith in his safety than I do in this place.
He gives me a sad look, squeezing my hand before climbing up into the top bunk to go to sleep.