The car traveled longer than I would have guessed. Worse was that we spent almost twenty minutes going fast and not stopping. That meant he was taking me somewhere out of the city and had taken a highway to get there. I didn’t doubt that Liam was following in the car we had rented from the hotel, but if this guy was taking me somewhere with a lot of cartel members then Liam was going to have to wait for backup. The longer it took for the backup to arrive the longer I would have to survive inside the cartel. I started doing some meditative exercises I learned in my martial arts training to calm my mind and push out the fear that was threatening to consume me. It took a couple of tries but eventually I reached my place of zen.
The car finally slowed, and I heard gravel crunching under the tires. A couple of minutes later the car stopped, and I took one last deep calming breath to push down the panic that was starting to rise within me. I was not a little girl anymore. I had survived a hell like this before and that had made me strong enough to do this without faltering.
I could do this.
There was no reason for the scared girl act anymore so when my kidnapper opened the car trunk and loomed over me, I just glared back at him. My best play was to react as little as possible and gather information for Liam and his FBI backup. If I fought too much right now, my kidnapper would just get physical with me again. The smart move here was not to cause too much trouble. He reached in and roughly pulled me from the trunk and I almost rolled my ankle trying to keep my balance with these fucking stiletto heels on the gravel. Once I was stable on my feet I looked around to identify where I had been taken.
My stomach dropped as I processed what I was seeing. We were parked in front of a well-lit warehouse that was crawling with dangerous looking men who displayed the Los Zetas tattoos. This was no small hidden location where they would have a couple of people watching the girls until the auction. This looked to be a major base for the cartel. Our entrance was not overlooked and wolf-whistles along with disgusting suggestions of what I should do accosted my ears. I started counting as I was pulled towards a door and had reached seven by the time I was dragged inside. If there were that many members of the cartel outside of the building, then how many would be inside?
My kidnapper tightened his grip on my arm as we walked through what looked like a mechanics shop and into a large room that held multiple couches and tables with TV’s mounted on the walls. I counted five more men sprawled around the room and saw that they were watching porn on the televisions.
“What have you brought us, Creeper?”
My kidnapper stopped and turned me to face the men within the room before answering, “Fresh meat!” No Fucking Way I thought to myself as I struggled not react, my kidnapper was called Creeper? These guys must really like to call it like they see it.
Now that we were no longer walking, I took the time to notice details about the other men in the room. All five were Hispanic and heavily tattooed. The one that had called out to Creeper was missing three of his front teeth and was openly leering at me while rubbing the bulge in his pants. Two more shared a couch that was hidden in shadow and I couldn’t make out much more than one was heavy set while the other was thinner and had thick facial hair.
That left the two men sitting at a table, each holding a hand of cards. These two were different from the rest. They were dressed nicer, clean cut, and sat upright in their chairs focused on the game instead of masturbating to the porn. The rest of the men, including Creeper, kept glancing their way as if they were waiting for instructions or approval. When the one facing me glanced up from his cards, I raised my chin and met his eyes. A sense of power punched through my system as I held his cold stare. This was no low-level street thug. This man was clearly in a position of power.
Our eyes remained locked and from the corner of my eye I saw that the second man at the table had turned to see what had caught his companion’s attention. I didn’t look away and Creeper started to shift from foot to foot, possibly nervous that he would get in trouble for bringing an obstinate woman into this man’s domain. Finally, the tension proved to be too much for Creeper to handle and he broke the silence. “I was ju-just going to break this one in, Jefe” Creeper stammered out in a shaky voice. “If th-that’s okay with you, Jefe.”
Jefe. Boss, I thought to myself. If this guy was the boss of the entire cartel then the game had just changed. If Joey busted in here soon, he wouldn’t need any of the lower members to flip on the boss because he would have caught el Jefe with his hand in the human trafficking cookie jar. Jefe’s attention remained on me for another few heartbeats before he flicked his eyes to Creeper and gave him a nod in approval. Great. Creeper just received permission to break me in. The next hour or so before the FBI stormed the place was going to be rough. I took a deep breath, gave Jefe my best fuck you glare, and walked out of the room.
It took Creeper a moment to realize I had walked out of the room without him and I heard him swear before his grip on my arm resumed. He jerked me painfully in the opposite direction then I had been heading and we walked down a long hallway with multiple doors on each side. When we had traveled about three-fourths the length of the hallway before Creeper pushed me roughly into one of the rooms. I stumbled again and caught myself on an unmade bed with exposed stained sheets. I wondered what kind of diseases I could catch by just being in the same room as those sheets as I quickly stood and turned to face Creeper. He promptly backhanded me again, re-opening the cut in my cheek.
“What the fuck was that?” He demanded. “You trying to embarrass me in front of Jefe?” I straightened and when Creeper went to hit me again, I simply stepped back to avoid his hand. He had used so much force behind his blow that the swing unbalanced him, and he fell against a dresser. Unfortunately, there was a gun on the dresser. Creeper grabbed it and turned to point it at my head. He was breathing heavily, either because of exertion or excitement, as he stepped forward and pressed the barrel of the gun to my forehead.
“Get on your fucking knees, you fucking whore,” he yelled into my face causing spit to fly from his mouth and cling to my skin.
Quickly I considered my options. I could easily take the gun from this sorry excuse for a man. But then what? I was alone inside a stronghold for the Los Zetas Cartel with at least twelve men. Creeper was pointing a revolver at my head. If it was fully loaded, I would only have six bullets. And I still hadn’t seen Grace or the other girls. If I started a firefight, I would most likely get myself, and maybe the other girls killed. My best move was to sit tight and wait for the rescue mission. The problem was that sitting tight involved being forced to my knees with a gun to my head.
Fuck my life.
Creeper cocked the gun and stepped closer moving the gun to rest under my chin. He leaned in and licked my face with his revolting scratchy tongue before whispering in my ear. “I brought you here bitch. I own your ass until someone else buys it. So, get on your fucking knees.”
Doing what Creeper demanded was better than getting shot in the head, and it wasn’t anything I hadn’t been forced to do before. I fell back on my hard-earned survival skills and allowed my mind to go blank. I was completely void of emotion as I dropped to my knees and tried to block out everything that was about to happen. I focused on a large dent in the wall as Creeper unzipped his pants, pinched my mouth open, and filled it.
Creeper’s constant barrage of names and his tendency to pull on my hair as he gripped the back of my head to push my face into his crotch started to cause my focus to slip, allowing reality to filter in. That was bad, so I started to count. Slowly and deliberately I counted, and it helped me block out everything else. When I reached one-hundred-seventy-four the rhythm of Creepers thrusts changed and he pulled my head away from him and held me at a painful angle. He then proceeded to shoot stream after stream of cum onto my face, chest, and hair.
He finally finished and released his death grip on my hair. I pressed my lips shut to keep any of the awful goopy shit from getting into my mouth. Creeper was just raising the gun to my face to rub the barrel of the gun in his seed when the door crashed open and Creeper jumped back from me in surprise. It took me a moment to register who was standing in the doorway in my emotionless state. It was Jefe, and all his attention was focused on me once more. I slowly rose to my feet and wiped my face with the back of my hand while maintaining eye contact with Jefe.
“You are needed out in the garage Creeper,” Jefe dismissed my kidnapper in a flat voice. “I will break in this one for you.”
Well-fuck. Dealing with Creeper while waiting for Liam would be completely disgusting but I believed that I could handle it, especially knowing that his wouldn’t be up for another round any time soon. But Jefe was in a completely different league. I guessed my chances of making it out of this alive and without doing something I couldn’t live with just decreased dramatically as Creeper fled from the room with his pants still unzipped.
Jefe reached into his front pocket and pulled out a large folding knife that he brought to his mouth and opened with his teeth, all his motions slow and concise. He then closed the distance between us and ran the blade down my unmarred cheek and neck until it rested by the collar of my see-through blouse. In a quick movement Jefe jerked the knife down cutting the thin fabric and exposing my red corset. Well at least the majority of the mess that Creeper left behind was stripped from me with the shirt.
I guessed that Jefe was trying to invoke a response from me, to frighten me, so I fought to keep a straight face and not react. If he wanted a reaction, then I was going to do everything in my power to keep that from him. It was the only way I was going to maintain some semblance of power in this situation. This became harder when I felt the cool metal of the knife on my upper thigh as he cut off my leather skirt.
After my skirt fell to the ground Jefe stepped back and slowly looked up my body starting with my stiletto clad feet and didn’t stop until he was once again staring in my eyes. “You have a espiritu fuerte. A strong spirt, but I can break you.”
I had no doubt that this man could indeed break me given enough time, but I wasn’t excited about the idea of him starting that process before Liam got here. Intelligence that had been absent in Creeper’s gaze was burning bright in Jefe’s eyes. Maybe I could convince him it wasn’t worth his time to break me.
“Yes,” I stated simply, and he seemed surprised by my admission. “But it would cost you precious time to break in a slave that you will just sell to the highest bidder. Why do their work for them?”
Jefe cocked his head at my words like he was trying to figure out my angle and commented, “You speak very casually about being sold. All the other girls that come through here are a blubbering mess. Weak, pathetic creatures.”
Interesting. This man valued strength. I had displayed strength by not showing fear when I was paraded through their compound thus singling myself out from the women that had been here before me. That was the reason that Jefe had interrupted Creeper and was now going to break me. I should have kept up the scared girl routine. But I couldn’t change tactics now and pretend to be docile. All I could do was show enough strength to gain some respect from Jefe. I had to hope he wouldn’t want to break something that he respected.
I pushed my shoulders back and stood tall in my heels and underwear. “I see no benefit from crying over something I cannot change.” That caused him to chuckle under his breath.
“Hermosa. Eres hermosa.” Jefe murmured under his breath in Spanish as he stepped closer to me and ran the tips of his fingers down the same path he had traced with the knife tip. I forced myself to breathe in deep even breaths. “Tell me, beautiful one, what instilled such strength in you?”
I was about to tell him the truth, knowing that the horrors of my past would work to distract him, when there was a soft knock at the door. I glanced over to see the man that was playing cards with Jefe earlier.
“Pardoneme. Las armas han llegado,” The man at the door stated and then walked back down the hall. The guns have arrived I silently translated. Because that is all this situation needed. For the bad guys to get a last-minute shipment of weapons. I just hoped that Liam was still listening and understood Spanish, so he could warn the FBI team.
Jefe ran his fingers softly back and forth on my lower lip before promising in a small voice, “We will finish this conversation later, fuerte belleza.” He then turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.
I took a minute to process that I had just barely escaped something truly horrible and had been left in the room by myself before whispering information to Liam via the listening device. “I counted seven outside and five inside. Two are defiantly leadership. I have not yet seen Grace or the other girls, but this is a big warehouse that I think they use as a main base or stronghold. They just received a shipment of guns.” Before I could continue with descriptions of the men I had seen and the layout of the warehouse the door was opened, and the second card player entered the room.
“Come with me,” he said and stood aside in clear invitation for me to exit the room. Even though I stood in nothing more than a pair of black lace bikini panties and a red corset the man’s demeanor remained professional. He looked bored to be dealing with something as trivial as moving one of the girls they were going to sell. I was just relieved that he seemed content to keep his hands to himself and walked slowly out of the room. Once I was through the door, he directed me to walk down the hallway in the direction I had not yet been.
He walked me down two more hallways before we walked through a large metal door. The door opened into a large room within the heart of the warehouse. The room was split into two parts by an ordinary chain link fence. Within the side of the room blocked off by the chain link fence the floor was littered with mattresses, dirty blankets, and scared beaten women. I did a quick count and came up with nine girls huddled in groups, each shaking with fear at our entrance. I looked more closely at their faces and found Grace Harris. She was sitting on one of the mattresses with the arms of an older Hispanic women wrapped around her shoulders.
I had done it. I had kept my promise to Liam. I had found his little sister.
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