Page 52 of Doxed

It’s the same. Same procedure, same cold shower, same grimy bar of soap and disgusting men watching us, same intimidated and docile women doing our makeup and hair, same ill fitted and cheap lingerie. They’re putting us up for auction again.

We’re led from the basement and through a luxurious cabin. It looks like a home, same as the house in Miami, but there is no one in sight. We walk through the cavernous living room and out the back double doors with chains around our necks. This is where everyone is gathered.

The voices of the men and women stop once our line has stopped. They eye us and whisper to one another, and the balmy air of the night clings to my skin.

In front of us is a large space of land, completely cleared of trees except on the outskirts, almost making a lane of some sort. The trees here aren’t as tall and the trunks are significantly skinner, so I know we’re not in Washington.

I’m yanked forward, along with the rest of the girls, and lined up side by side on the grass. Something different this time is that they didn’t put any shoes on us. The wet grass blades slide between my toes and I watch them, trying to disassociate with what’s to come next.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to welcome you to this year’s Society Hunt!” an announcer calls from behind us.

My spine snaps straight as I turn to look over my shoulder and see a man with a microphone standing on a deck above us. What sends chills down my arms and legs are the people lined up on both sides of him with a variety of rifles and bows. And they’re pointed at us.

This can't be real. This can't. My head spins back around and I stare at the lights from the house shining on the ground in front of me. My mind works a million times a minute. What am I going to do?

“The hunt starts when I fire the starting gun, and remember, as per the Hunt’s rules, you must wait to fire until your target is past the 100 yard marker.

” His voice is almost cheerful, and I can't get my limbs to cooperate.

I want to run, I want to hide, but all I can do is stare blankly at the green grass.

Pop! The shot sounds. Some girls run, a few stand still, probably in as much shock and terror as I am, but then a guard comes up behind them and prods them with a thick stick.

They shriek and take off running, their ass or back of their arm sporting two new blood spots.

Kate grabs my hand and pulls me after her.

We run, our legs moving furiously and scraping against the rough fabric of the lingerie.

Figures stand in the treeline, shoving their prods at girls who dare to come close; they’re keeping us in the open spaces, not letting us escape into the trees.

Gun shots explode all around us and each time we duck our heads.

Tears pour down my face, blurring the land in front of me and I want to lie down and die right here. I don't want to be shot.

An arrow pierces the ground next to my feet and I hop to avoid it, crashing into Kate, but she holds us up.

A few girls drop, blood pouring from wounds, but we don’t stop to help them, just swerve around them or step over them like they’re potholes in the road.

If I had a chance to really think about that fact, I would be sick to my stomach, but I don't.

Another gunshot, but this time, I feel something splatter onto the side of my face and I fall to the ground.

Laying next to me on the ground is Kate, a gaping hole in the forehead. I scream and scramble away from her as her dead eyes stare right at me, but they’re empty.

I wish I could stay with her, but staying still makes me an easier target, so I push to my feet and run for my life.

There’s a gap in the trees where no one is standing, so I beeline for it, hoping to catch my breath or hide. My throat is dry and every time I take a breath, I feel like I'm sucking down ice. My lungs burn and my legs feel wobbly beneath me.

I reach out for the tree to stabilize myself as I come to a stop, and an arrow slices through the air. The tip grazes my tricep and I shriek, cradling my arm to my chest. It burns and when I pull my hand away, there’s blood.

Rough hands grip my shoulders and yank me into the cover of the trees. I swallow a whimper and round my shoulders, retreating into myself.

“None of that, Little Ghost. I’m here now.” The plastic of a mask rubs against my cheek and my heart floods with relief. I must be dreaming.

Frantic, I turn around and yank the silver skull mask off of the man. Miles smiles down at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re alive?” I ask, dumbfounded. I thought I watched him die.

“My soul is connected to yours. God himself would have to tear you out of my chest before I ever let myself die on you.” I blink, lost for words, and Miles seizes that opportunity to run his hands along my body, examining it.

He pulls a black bandana from his pocket and wraps it tightly around the bleeding wound on my arm.

I hide behind Miles’ tall body at the sound of soft, rustling footsteps.

“I was able to get this one. I hope your friend got the other girl,” a voice that I recognize whispers.

“B?” Nova seeks, her voice shaking.

“Carlos?” I question, peeking out from behind Miles. What is he doing here?

More rustling from behind us makes me hide in Miles’ embrace. “I’m not going to hurt you, we’re here to help,” a gruff voice coos. “See, here are your friends and mine. We’re going to get you out of here.”

I look around Miles and see a burly man with a thick beard leading a terrified Maya toward us. Miles looks her up and down before nodding at the man. “Thanks, Tell.”

“Yeah, let's just get out of here soon. I think they’re picking up bodies and they’re gonna realize that they’re three short.”

“Yeah.” He nods to Carlos. “Let’s go to the hideout.”

He starts to pull me deeper into the woods, but I stop him. “Kate.” I look at him with wide eyes.

He shakes his head, his lips pulling into a straight line. “We can’t, babe.”

I have to accept that. We step over the still body of a guard as we push further into the woods. Tell ends up carrying Maya because she said her feet were hurting, and I constantly look back at Carlos, still very confused why he’s here.

A curved structure protrudes from the ground, and Tell holds his thick arm out. “Let's wait in here.”

Miles’ hand holds on tight to mine. “Yeah, okay.” He gestures to Tell, and he steps forward and pulls a set of bolt cutters from his back pocket, cutting the lock on the metal door.

Miles turns on lanterns as we take seats on the benches along the walls. “How much longer?” he asks, directed at Carlos.

The cartel boss checks his phone and then slides it back into his jeans. I’ve never seen him in jeans before. “Not much longer. They’re almost there.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” I snap, focusing on Miles.

He clears his throat and leans against the wall next to the door. “Yeah, about him. I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, looking between Miles and Carlos.

Carlos stands and takes a seat on the other side of Nova than he originally was, closer to me.

He leans forward, reaching for my hands in my lap before stopping and pulling away.

He glances at Miles, who glares at him with all the fury in the world, before looking back at me and leaning against the wall of the bunker.

“I presume you know what I do now?” he asks, and I nod mutely.

“It was my men who attacked La Lujuria, but I did not send them.

I had no idea anything even happened until a few days after when I got suspicious because I hadn't heard from Hector.” He rubs his fingers over his trimmed beard.

“All of my men who took part in that horrendous act were dealt with accordingly. They were hired by someone else. Their loyalties to me had expired.” He glances at the floor and sighs.

“I tried to find you, but I didn't know where to look.” He glares at Miles. “That is until your boyfriend paid me a visit in the middle of the night two nights ago.” I look at Miles and he looks smug about that. “After that, with my connections, we were able to find out about the hunt tonight.” His caramel eyes are soft on me again. “I’m so relieved that you are okay. If I could bring those traitors back and kill them all over again, I would for putting you through this.”

“What’s going to happen now?” I look between Miles and Carlos. “These people won’t stop.”

“We know,” Miles nods.

“It’s not the most satisfying plan, but I’ve put in a tip with an agent friend of mine.

” He checks his phone again and continues, “They’re raiding the mansion now.

They’ll arrest everyone working the trafficking ring.

Unfortunately, most of the guests here tonight will be let go or their cases will be dropped.

They’re too high profile, have too many friends of importance, and have too much money to face any real justice.

We might have a chance with the ones that were partaking in the hunt, but the spectators will be let go. ”

I shake my head, tears gathering in my eyes again. “That's not good enough.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Carlos says softly.

“The men in charge, the ones who run this, will be taken to my residence where I will prosecute them personally. The others: the guards, the kidnappers, anyone who is lower level will slowly, over several years, be killed by my men who are incarcerated. Once the media forgets about the case, and the buzz of them dies down, they’ll be taken care of. ”

I nod. I wish there were more. I wish everyone here ended up in jail, but the world isn’t fair and the people with the kind of money these ones have don’t live by the same laws that everyone else has to.

They can rape, steal, murder, and traffic.

As long as they can pay anyone off, they can do whatever they want.

“Who hired your men? The people running the Society?” I ask.

“No.” Carlos shakes his head. “A previous client of yours did.”

My head snaps to Miles. “Who?”

“Winston Lowe,” he answers.

“Why?” I shake my head in disbelief.

Miles chews on the inside of his lip, irritation flashing through his green eyes. “He was frat brothers with one of the heads of the Society. He hired them to kidnap you and bring you to him, but they betrayed him and trafficked you instead.”

“Why?” I repeat, completely lost. Winston? He was so kind. A major clinger, but I never would have thought of this.

“Probably for a bigger payday. They could get paid by him and then sell you and all the other girls off, too.”

My mouth goes dry and I lean back against the icy wall. “Where is he?” I ask, staring at my bare feet.

“Already waiting for me back at my house. We couldn’t get enough evidence to try him in court, so I’ll deal with him too.” Carlos supplies. He checks his phone again, nodding to Miles. “We can go now.”

Miles offers his hand to me and I take it, following the other four out of the bunker. “You’re not going with Carlos to take care of those guys?” I ask, huddling under his arm as we walk through the woods.

He shakes his head, his arm tight around me. “I got you back. I don't care how those men are dealt with as long as they are. You’re the only person who matters to me.”

Carlos’ private plane lands in Washington and I walk out onto the tarmac behind Miles. Carlos provided Nova, Maya, and me with clothes and shoes that we were all grateful for.

Miles clears his throat, facing Tell at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll get those cards shipped out to you as soon as I can.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

Tell shakes his head. “Nah, I’m not taking payment for helping innocent women. This is just what decent people do.”

Miles nods and shakes his thick hand. “I’ll see you around then. It was good to finally meet you.”

Tell pulls him into a tight hug and smacks him hard on the back before letting go. “Might as well get those cards packaged up, though, you know you're gonna need my help again, eventually.” He smiles, his straight white teeth shining in the early morning light.

“Yeah, whatever.” Miles smiles.

Maya steps up to Tell, and he looks down at her. He’s huge. He towers over her, but the look in his eyes is so soft. “Could you take me home, Tell?”

He nods once, the movement jerky. “If that’s what you want.”

Maya nods meekly, and she waves to Nova and I before her and Tell walk away together.

Carlos’ loafers clack against the plane’s steps as he descends. “I wish I could stay and chat, Hermosa, but I have guests waiting for me that I'd prefer to deal with as soon as possible.”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “Can we meet up for coffee when you’re free?

To talk?” I ask. He was my friend once, and I want to clear the air between us.

I suspected him, I hated him. And he had no idea.

I just want us to talk about everything when nerves have calmed down and I'm in a better place mentally.

He takes my hand and squeezes before letting go. “Of course.” He nods a goodbye to Miles and Nova before retreating up the stairs of the plane.

Miles pulls me toward him, questions in his eyes. I shut myself in the private room of the cabin with Nova after we boarded. I haven’t spoken to him since we left the bunker in Tennessee. “Let’s get you both home.” I step into his side and let him guide me across the tarmac, but my mind is a blur.