All I could do now was hope and pray that Jax was smarter, that his family would help, and that my daughter would survive just a little longer until we could be reunited, her back in my arms where she belonged.
.
Chapter Sixteen
Jax.
Benny was irritating me. His constant talking grating on my nerves, I guess I was on edge anyway, seeing as it was time.
We had all assembled in the library the morning of the auction, and I'd never seen Vladimir in such high spirits; this is what he did best. Snatched girls from their lives, stripped them both physically and emotionally, 'conditioned' them, and then sold them to the highest fucking bidder. This was what I never wanted to be a part of, and yet here I was, being told that it was Benny and me who were getting the girls washed and then marching them up to Marnie to be dressed and made up.
I felt sick to my goddamn stomach. Only Christ knows how Benny seemed unbothered by the whole thing. Perhaps he was just as sick and twisted as the Chro's? Who knew? I'd said only a few words to him.
“I am trusting you both,” Vladimir said. He was shirtless, wearing only cropped slacks, his hair a graying mess curling around his ears, tonight, however, he would transform into a completely different entity. He would become Vladimir Chrobak, kingpin, man to be feared, man to not upset. “To keep the girls under control, wash them, and keep a beady fucking eye on them. Any one of them gives you a problem, and you can snuff the bitch out. No-one ruins my auctions.”
“What if they all give us problems, sir?” Benny asked.
Vladimir grinned, showing ugly, discolored teeth. “They won't. Our conditioning is intensive; we've yet to be unable to break a girl. I say all this for precautions, Benjamin.”
Benny nodded, sitting back in his chair.
“Any questions, Jax? You've been quiet this morning.” All eyes looked my way as Vlad spoke, I half wanted to ask about Marco, and half wanted to ask whether he'd decided if I could see Amy. I decided against both.
“No, sir. All good here.”
“And how is your back today? Feeling strong enough to work?” He asked.
It'd take a hell of a lot more than broken glass to keep me down. “A little sore, sir, but nothing I can't cope with.”
Vladimir clapped his hands together and stood. “Well, gentlemen, we've a busy day ahead. Everyone knows what they're doing, yes?”
Each head around the table nodded.
“Good, in that case, I'll see you all tonight.”
Leaving the room, heavy keys Vlad had given me to the cells felt as though they weighed a lot more than they did.
Behind the swirling staircase, was a hidden one. One that led into the depths of Purgatory, where four girls waited, one that led to the place where I'd never be the same man again once I'd emerged from it.
Fuck. Fuck!
“You okay, mate?” Benny placed a hand on my back, and I looked into green eyes. He was stocky and blond, reminding me of Carter if Carter had shorter hair.
I cracked my neck from side to side. “I just wanna get this over with,” I said through gritted teeth, my legs finally beginning the walk down the metal staircase where darkness waited for us. Benny followed close behind, and, thankfully, he had the sense to keep quiet.
The wailing. The gentle sobs. The panicked breaths were all I could hear as we slid open the heavy metal door to the cells. The girls knew what day it was, and they knew we were here for them.
Pulling a chain, I switched the light on, and those fiercely bright fluorescent lights buzzed to life one by one, slowly revealing the vast open space. Similar to a prison, six cells lined walls opposite each other, and in the middle of the room was a desk, two computers, and several filing cabinets. It wasn't a welcoming space at all, and just standing at the precipice had me feeling queasy.
“Right, let's just get this over with.” I declared, walking into the room, my boots, even though I wasn't stomping, created an eerie echo to which the girls' wails grew just a little louder. I found myself wondering if 'conditioned' girls would cry? Then shook my head, ridding me of any thoughts. I couldn't think my way through this - I had to do.
Approaching the first cell, Benny located the shower room at the far back and pointed this out to me.
I looked through the set of keys until I found the right one. “Ready?”
Benny nodded.
The lock opened with a loud thunk, and I remember trying to open the door without spooking the girl farther.
The first thing that hit me was the smell. Shit, piss, vomit, all mixed into a gruesome scent I'd never forget. And then the light from outside filtered into the cell, and we saw the first girl. A tiny Chinese thing huddled on the floor; knees pulled to her chest, her skin covered in healing wounds, dried blood, her hair tangled with sticky vomit. Jesus.
Benny walked in first, pushing me out the way, and his thick frame crouched down in front of the girl. “Come on, time for a shower.” He sounded firm but not cruel.
The girl, no older than fifteen, looked at him and then towards me; she didn't speak fucking English.
Sighing, I joined Benny, crouching beside him, and together, we both took an arm, our fingers slipped around with no problem, the girl underweight and malnourished. To my surprise, she didn't fight us, and she sobbed as we led her into the shower room.
It was a large space with faded duck-egg green tiles, the white floor, stained with blood, dipped inward towards the plug, there were no windows and only one working light.
Someone had already put out several pairs of cheap-looking sandals, and I stood back and let Benny take charge. He ushered the girl beneath a tap and gestured for her to wash. Meekly, she nodded, turning her back on us, revealing her spine, her shoulders jutting out in unnatural ways. Poor bitch, I thought.
We were both silent as she washed, making quick work of scrubbing her flesh, the dirt and blood swirled into the plug, and I shuddered. My mind wandered to her family, did she have one? Had she been in school? Had she been taken from the US or snatched from her motherland? All these questions and she couldn't tell us. She was just another statistic, another number in a newspaper report, another life that the world would not stop for.
Five minutes soon ended and, without so much as a towel, we led her into the open space once more and handcuffed her to a small bench, the sandals were far too big for little feet, and she had kept tripping. Now, she would wait while we dealt with the others.
The remaining girls were all American, and neither did they fight us. They each washed without a word, let us lead them into the room, and then before long, all the girls were clean, naked and chained together in a single line by their hands and ankles. We were to march them through The Mansion. There was no secret tunnel where they could hang on to, perhaps, their last bit of dignity, no, they were to be paraded around like circus animals.
Ella.
“Any sign of him?” I asked Marnie, who was sitting cross-legged on my bed, dressing gown wrapped around her frame, hair in curlers.
She shook her head. “No, babe. But that doesn't mean he's gone.”
I turned my gaze back towards my open bedroom window and looked at the flurry of activity below. Caterers were beginner to arrive, wait staff who'd help Marnie and me, and men Vladimir would want at the top table all piled into the mansion.