Page 16

Rex

I’ve been sitting here for hours. The pain in my body hasn’t lessened, and my head is beating harder than my heart. The bleeding in my thigh has quit, but my whole leg is numb. It still hurts, but it’s got that tingling feeling like when your foot falls asleep. I try to move my ankle to help with circulation, but it’s tied so tight I can only move my toes, and they’re so numb I’m not sure they’re actually moving.

I know I have a hell of a concussion because I feel nauseous and have double vision. I have several broken ribs, and they hurt every time I breathe in. As for other injuries, I’m not sure. Probably too many to name. As if that’s not enough, I’m thirsty and need to take a piss. I still when I hear a door open then boots thumping down the stairs.

“Nice to see you’re awake,” says a guy with the brightest red hair I’ve ever seen.

I instantly nickname him Carrot Top.

I remain silent and watchful. The second guy is short, with black hair that comes to a point in the center of his forehead. He’s got a nervous type of smile that flashes, then disappears, then shows again. It’s odd to see. I’m calling him Eddie because he reminds me of the kid on the old TV show The Munsters .

“You’re here because we need you to use your skills for us. Do what we ask, and we’ll turn you loose when you’re done. If not, pain will become your best friend,” Carrot Top explains.

“What do you need help with?” I ask.

“The boss will explain that soon enough. Here’s some water,” he says while setting a bottle of water on the table.

I stare at him, wondering how he thinks I can drink it with my hands tied. When he doesn’t say anything further or move to release my hands, I speak.

“Is it fucking magical water?” I ask sarcastically. “I can’t drink it without my hands unless it’s somehow going to fly over here on its own.”

A fist connects with my jaw, and my head snaps back. Pain rolls through me, but I refuse to let it show. I smile and spit out a mouthful of blood near his feet.

“Like I said. Pain will become your best friend if you don’t cooperate with us. You could have asked nicely but chose the harder route,” Carrot Top states in a flat voice.

He gives the other guy, little Eddie, a nod, and Eddie snaps to attention and moves to my side. He unties one of my hands and then hurries out of reach. I stretch my arm forward, grab the water, then struggle to get it open with only one hand. I manage then to drink half the bottle. I set it back on the table and use my free hand to wipe my mouth free of blood and water.

“Boss will be here shortly. She’s not going to be happy that you’ve been roughed up, but it couldn’t be helped. The two guys that brought you here are upstairs patching up the injuries you gave them. They’re hoping to get another shot at you, so don’t give them reason to come down here,” Carrot Top explains.

“Need to piss,” I reply.

“Piss yourself,” Eddie shouts, then does the weird smile thing again.

“Go get a bucket,” Carrot orders, and Eddie frowns but heads upstairs.

“He takes orders well,” I state.

“He’s been well trained. He’s been a pet for several years and knows it’s easier to do as he’s told. Consequences are painful if he doesn’t,” Carrot Top says with a smirk.

“Who’s your boss?” I ask even though I know the answer.

“You’ll find out when you need to.”

Eddie returns and sets the bucket next to my feet. Looking at Carrot Top, I arch an eyebrow.

“We’ll untie you long enough to piss, but if you put up a fight, you’ll be hurting worse the next time you wake up,” Carrot Top says with another nod at Eddie.

Thankfully, my bladder doesn’t get shy with company. Though I have to admit, I didn’t like the fact that Eddie watched way too closely to me pissing. Odd little fucker.

The following day, I’m not sure what time it is, the boss shows up. I’m still tied to the chair, and the only thing I’ve had was that half bottle of water yesterday. I’m hungry, thirsty, and hurting when a beautiful woman walks gracefully down the stairs and stops in front of me. Savi Foster in the flesh.

I’m surprised that she’s here in person. She’s been a ghost for so long, I only found a few older pictures of her. She’s aged very little since then, but I guess the money you make off of other people’s misery helps keep a person youthful.

“Hello. I want to make you a business offer. You have a skill set that’s hard to come by, and my organization is in need of someone like you,” Savi says in a melodic voice.

I remain silent.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” she says while waving her hand around, indicating the room. “I didn’t want it to go down this way. I wanted to sit down with you in a civilized manner, but time constraints have changed things up.”

I continue staring at her without speaking.

“What would it cost my organization to hire you? Have you work exclusively for us. There will be times you have to travel, but you would do it in luxury,” she asks casually like this is a normal type of interview.

“What kind of work would I be doing?” I ask.

“Setting up auctions on the black web would be just one of your duties. Covering our tracks and keeping the organization hidden from agencies that would like to interfere with us would be another. Web and computer things to make our lives easier and cut down on the chances of getting found by law enforcement or unhappy clients. Your duties would vary, but all would make an impact on our success. You would share in that success. We need someone who can track our clients’ money sources and hide ours. We need absolute anonymity, and we’ve heard you’re the one that can provide that,” Savi explains while leaning a hip against the table.

I listen closely to everything they’ve said, and I don’t believe they’re aware that I’ve been tracking them for a while now. She’s right about one thing—they need someone better than whoever they have if they want to stay under the radar. Finding information on her was difficult but not impossible. Hiring people like Gary and Dave, with a history of trafficking, was not smart. Someone is either careless or not as smart as they should be for this type of an organization.

“Who does this type of work for you now?” I ask.

“Why do you ask?” she returns.

“Because I’m curious if he’s the one who tried hacking my company a while back. If so, he’s not very good,” I reply and get my answer, but not from her.

“You’re wrong! I got in!” Eddie shouts.

“No, you didn’t,” I taunt and watch his face turn red. “If I were to agree to the job, what happens to the runt?”

I say the last part while pointing my chin toward Eddie. He explodes and bolts forward, ready to throw a punch, when Carrot Top throws his arm out in front of him. Eddie stops, but his angry, nervous energy has him bouncing on his toes.

“We have other duties he can do,” Savi answers.

“That’s code for you’re going to come up missing,” I say while staring at the angry little man.

“In the meantime, I have need of your skills now. I’ll have a laptop brought down to you, food and water, and instructions on what I need. If you succeed, you’ll live. If you don’t, well, you’re smart enough to figure that out, I’m sure,” Savi says, then disappears up the stairs.

“Fuck you! I’m good at what I do!” Eddie spits in my direction.

“Then why are you out, and she wants me in?” I ask with an innocent smile that fools no one.

“I’ll be watching over your shoulder the whole time so you can’t do anything but what you’re instructed to do. You’re basically doing my work for me, bitch,” Eddie states, then rushes up the stairs.

“Boss doesn’t play. Do as she says, or die painfully,” Carrot Top states before he follows Eddie out of sight.

My hands are untied and a takeout bag from a local restaurant is set on the table. Next to it are two bottles of water. I waste no time pulling out the first burger and devouring it. It’s been well over a day since I’ve eaten, and I’m starving. I open the second burger and start on it next.

When the laptop is set in front of me, I open it and wait to be told what I’m supposed to be doing. Giving me computer access is like giving me a lifeline. I don’t know the address of where I am, but I can still get a message to the club. I’m hoping I’ve trained the guys well enough that they can trace it back to my location.

I deflate a little when I see that I have no internet access. It doesn’t take me long, though, to understand that this is simply a test to see how I react to the file that’s now open on the desktop. It’s filled with images that no normal person would want to view.

Hundreds of pictures of young women, some underage, in various stages of undress is what fills the first folder. Most look haunted, some have been beaten. Many are most likely strung out on whatever they’ve been given to keep them complying with their captors. Not by choice but by being drugged repeatedly until their own bodies betray them, craving its next dose. They’re easier to manage when all they know is their next fix will dull their senses again and make their existence a little more bearable.

My heart breaks a little more with each picture, but I show no emotion. Each of these victims have a mom, dad, friend, or coworker that’s worried or assuming the worst by now. They’re lost to the nightmare that sex traffickers brought to their lives, all to make a buck. Living a normal life one day, in hell the next. Their lives have a dollar value placed on them, and they’ve become nothing but a commodity.

“This is your business. The sex trade? What am I supposed to do with the pictures?” I ask while looking at Carrot Top.

“Boss needs you to catalog them for now. Later, she’ll need them uploaded to a website that you’ll be creating that can only be accessed by clients she’s approved and through a portal that we have complete control over. Clients will be given an identification number, as will the pets. A passcode will be needed for the clients the boss allows to view the merchandise. You’ll also be delving into the clients’ bank accounts so she’s sure they have the funds for their purchases prior to giving them the passcode. There will be other duties, but that’s the basics. No mistakes are allowed. You fuck up, you die. Slowly. Got it?”

I nod and look back at the screen. The picture opened at the moment is of a young woman with blond curly hair. It’s a stretch to say she’s eighteen. Most likely closer to sixteen. Her eyes are dull and lifeless. Drugged or so beaten down, she no longer has hope of a better future. My stomach rolls at the thought of helping these animals victimize anyone, but I know I have a part to play.

My mind whirls with ideas and thoughts about how to turn this to my advantage. I know I’ll have someone watching what I’m doing at all times, but I’m positive there will be an opening. I just have to be ready to take advantage when it happens.

“Tell the boss I want to talk about money. My skills don’t come cheap.”