Page 19 of Doxed

Miles leaves me in the kitchen and disappears into his office as soon as we walk into the house. He closes the door behind him without a word.

That's fine. If he won't answer my questions, I'll get them for myself.

This time, I shut my door and sit on my bed with my laptop, opening it and searching Miles Greene just like I searched the Devil’s Outlaws before we left.

So many results come up, but I can't find any that seems like him.

So I search through social media. But that also comes up nil.

He doesn't have a profile on any social platform.

Who doesn't have any social media profile at all? I mean, come on, not even a networking profile. He’s techy.

Shouldn't he be all over this stuff? Of course, it’s kind of hard to really look into the social media profiles because I can't log into mine.

Someone hacked all of my social profiles and changed the passwords and emails.

I rub at my eyes. This is leading nowhere. For a moment, I watch the rain fall outside the window. I didn't realize it started raining while my head was in my laptop.

The rain falls soundlessly, so light that if you were standing out in it, you wouldn't feel it hitting you. The water drips from the branches and breaches the small gaps between the trees.

I think back on my apartment and the open view of the water. I think I prefer this view. Being surrounded by trees like a protective blanket. Hiding in the forest and living with nature.

Looking away from the rain, I search Miles’ name and Seattle as a last ditch effort.

Orphaned Boy Buries His Parents After Murder Trial.

What? I quickly click on the news article link, my heart racing as the loading wheel circles.

Error. Page Not Found.

Sighing, I fall onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I feel stuck and like I'm running out of time. Like a mouse running a wheel.

There is a reason Miles saved me and a reason he isn't being truthful with me. He's hiding something big and I need to find out what it is before it’s too late.

I also need to find the girls from the club.

I sit back up and grab my laptop again, this time searching for the names of the girls from the club.

None of them have updated their profiles at all. Actually, one girl’s family has reported her as missing.

I'm not sure how much information I can find online, but I search anyway.

I find a forum that could all be fake stuff people find out from movies and their own imaginations, but it could also be real. They said to search for them on the dark web.

That some trafficking rings will post people for sale like clothes on a website.

People could have already bought the girls, and some “owners” like to take pictures of their slaves and post them on forums for other lowlife sickos to enjoy.

My stomach rolls at the thought of what the girls could be going through. Hell on Earth. Things no one should ever have to experience. A large part of me hopes they are dead, only to save them from the unimaginable.

How could Carlos do this to them? How could he do it to me?

I angrily slam my laptop closed and walk into my closet, pulling down an oversized hoodie and slipping it on.