then, Blaine was only a young teen and unable to stand up to his
old man back then. Demons haunted him, Dane knew that now. It
didn’t just start with Blaine being shipped off. No, something else
happened to his friend to make him look like a monster right now.
“You know where Cameron is,” Dane stated.
Blaine shook his head. “No, but I know where Samara is.”
It took a lot for Dane to get out of that bed and stand on his
own two feet. Once steady, he took a deep breath, facing both of
his best friends. “Then by all means, let’s go kick some ass.”
Slowly, a malicious smile spread across Blaine’s face. “Then
let’s go have some fun.”
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Chapter Twelve
Samara paced the room, rubbed her arms, fearing what might
come. The room was something she half imagined a brothel room
might look like. No table or chairs, dim reddish lighting and a full
size bed. Even that bed had a red blanket and black sheets. And
even though she knew that she might be in some serious trouble,
Samara couldn’t stop thinking about Makayla and what might be
happening to her.
One of the first things Samara did when she was shoved into
the room was to check the door. Not a surprise, locked. The small
window also had bars on it, sort of reminding her of the things she
heard about the Compound. But this wasn’t the Compound. She
heard someone unlock the door saw the knob turn, and Samara
held her breath, waiting to see who might walk in. Two men
entered, one dressed up in a suit, cane in hand. The other more
casually dressed, and both had cold, dark eyes. Yet there was
something familiar about the one with the cane. Something that
Samara couldn’t put her finger on.
“What did I tell you?” the one with the cane said. “Still
enticing.”
“But not what I paid for.” The other strolled into the room,
staring at Samara. The way he moved had her instantly on edge.
“She’s missing something, Esopo.”
“And I told you that you may do whatever you wish with her,
as compensation.”
The guy lunged at Samara, grabbing her arm tightly, jerking
her close. His other hand fisted into her hair, yanking her head
back. She hissed in pain. He kept hold of her by her hair, grabbed
the front of her shirt and ripped it open. This time she cried out
and began to fight him.
“I see you enjoying yourself already, so I’ll leave you to have
your fun.” The one with the cane walked out, closing and locking
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the door behind him.
Once her shirt was ripped all the way off, leaving her in her
bra and jeans, he shoved her away. Samara hit the wall hard,
crossed her arms over her breasts and watched him. He licked his
lips, eyes going up and down over her body. But it was his hands
that had her fear climbing. His hands went right to the belt around
his waist, unhooked it and pulled it quickly from the loops.
He folded it in half, slapped his hand and smiled at her. “Now
the punishment comes for you letting another fuck you.”
* * * *
“Now, how the hell you know anyone is here?” Dane asked
Blaine for about the tenth time.
They pulled up in front of a building right on the border of
town. When they were younger, in their teens, the three of them
use to visit this house. It had one time been the most popular
brothel in Treece. But once it was discovered that kidnapped
young girls ended up here, some used as prostitutes, others just
sold off, and the house got closed down. So to Dane it really
wasn’t that much of a surprise to know that someone might use
the house for their own sick pleasure.
The three of them got out of the car slowly. Dane had this
nagging feeling that something bad might already be happening.
First off he couldn’t imagine any reason for Samara to be brought
here. Yet, then again, it was the perfect place to hide someone.
Everyone in town suspected this house had been shut down, not
in use.
“Sounds like yelling or crying,” Devon remarked.
“Samara!” Dane rushed past them, right into the house.
The house was dark, dusty and cobwebs everywhere. The
place had been turned upside down long ago. In the center of the
room, which had been the gathering place for men to pick which
women they wanted, Dane stopped and listened. Sure enough he
could hear crying mixed with screaming coming from upstairs. He
turned left, found the old staircase and took them two at a time.
Most of the bedrooms had no doors, and some hung on
broken hinges. But down the long hall there was one door that
was closed, and beyond that he could hear Samara crying out and
the faint sound of slapping. The kind of slapping that came with a
belt.
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He took off at a run, slamming into the door with his shoulder.
He busted through, saw a man raise his hand up with a belt in it
and Samara hunched in a corner trying to protect herself. Dane
went right towards him and body slammed him down to the
ground.
Dane wrestled the man, fighting to get the upper hand. But
thanks to his little bout with Cameron earlier he was still weak and
ended up the one on his back. The man above him raised his fist
but the blow didn’t come.
“Don’t you know three is better than one?” Devon had a hold
of the fist yanked the man off and hit him hard in the gut. He bent
over and Devon finished him with a knee kick right in the face,
knocking the guy out cold.
Dane nodded to Devon, rolled himself over to his hands and
knees and crawled to Samara.
“Samara,” he said her name softly.
Samara slowly raised her head. She had a cut over her left
eye, right along her eyebrow and her whole back was quickly
turning black and blue.
“Oh God, Dane!” She rushed into his arms, wrapping her arms
around his neck. “I thought they killed you.”
“Going to take a lot more than a hit to my head to get rid of
me,” he said, closing his eyes, holding her as tightly as he dared.
“Hey, what happened to Blaine?” Devon asked.
* * * *
Blaine stayed downstairs; he walked around, looking in each
and every room. Hairs on the back of his neck stood up, making
him feel the presence of another. In his right hand he held a gun,
cocked and ready.
A scuffle sounded behind him, Blaine swung around, aimed
and stood in shock as the one who made the sound came out of
the shadows.
“Hello, Blaine. Been a long time.”
“Owen?” Blaine frowned, not believing his eyes.
Owen Paterio had been a school buddy when Blaine got
shipped off. He also had a twist
ed side to him, one that Blaine had
quickly discovered. Owen liked to beat the girls he went out with.
Got off on their pain. Owen also didn’t mind ‘renting’ out his
girlfriends. After this, Blaine began to back away from him. What
got Owen kicked out of school and disappearing was the night he
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picked up one of the freshmen girls, drugged her, and held a
private auction. To Owen, girls were used and abused and you
were either with him or against.
Looking at the man now, Blaine hardly knew him. Owen
dressed in the finest silk suit money could buy. His blown hair
slicked back from cold, brown eyes. Narrow face, nice tan—no the
man that Blaine thought he knew years ago wasn’t the same one
standing before him.
“You going to shoot me?” Owen asked with a smile. “That
wouldn’t be very gentlemen like, now would it? After all, how long
has it been since we last saw each other?”
“Are you the money behind this shit?” Blaine demanded. He
didn’t lower the gun or his guard. With his memory coming full
force at him, Blaine recalled how well Owen could talk his way out
of trouble.
“You still coming to their rescue?” Owen asked. “You can’t
save them all.”
“I don’t need to save them if I stop you.”
Owen laughed, “Oh Blaine I’d forgotten how funny you can be
at times. I really have.”
“You’re not going to get away with this.”
The smile slowly left Owen’s pretty face. Pretty boy was what
they called him back in school. He also had the charm, the smiles,
and the cash to get out of trouble. But he didn’t have anything that
Blaine wanted in order to get out of this mess.
“I already have.”
Another noise had Blaine glancing over his shoulder. That
small action was all Owen needed in order to make a run for it.
And Blaine was right on his ass.
Blaine ran after him. Through the house, jumping over rubble
like broken tables and chairs, and out a back door. He got outside
just as Owen got into a car. Blaine shot his gun, hitting the sides
of the limo twice before it pulled away fast. Blaine stood alone
outside, breathing hard, watching it leave.
“You okay?” Devon huffed, clearly out of breath because of
running. “Heard shots.”
“I’m fine,” Blaine answered. “Just ran into the past.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He turned, looking Devon in the face. “Did Dane
find Samara?”
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“Yeah, that fucker beat her.” Devon swallowed. “Heard
anything from Darius?”
Blaine shook his head. “Nothing yet. Why don’t you take that
bag of shit to the police? I think it’s time we burned this place to
the ground.”
“Blaine, you alright?”
“Just peachy,” Blaine turned back around to the direction the
limo had headed. “Fucking peachy.”
* * * *
Darius followed his personal escort up the stairs, back to the
main floor then up another set to the second. After writing the
check, waiting for them to make sure he had the money in his
account to cover it, he now headed for the girl and prayed like hell
it was without a doubt Makayla Tabor.
On the second floor they went down a darkly lit hallway to the
door at the end. The man, who led him this far brought out a key,
slipped it in the lock and opened the door. It slightly pissed Darius
off to know that not only were the girls taken, but also locked into
a room to wait their fate. It also had him wondering what kind of
condition he might find her in.
“Enjoy,” the man said, opening the door for Darius.
Darius turned his head slightly with a nod before walking
inside. The door closed, lock turned and he quickly looked around
for a way to get her out, then his eyes landed on the girl upon the
bed.
Her long black hair fanned out, falling off the bed, as well as
one arm and one leg. Apparently she had been tossed onto the
bed. Taking a few steps closer he saw that she also was scarcely
dressed. A very thin, white baby doll lingerie covered her young
body and no panties. From the way she stayed on the bed, even
when Darius touched her face, told him that she also had been
drugged.
“Makayla?” he said her name softly, kneeling down on the
side of the bed, tapping her face. “Makayla, wake up.” She
moaned. “Great,” he groaned, sighing.
Standing back up, Darius went over to the only window in the
room. He pushed the thick burgundy curtains aside. Surprisingly
there weren’t any bars on the window, yet at the same time why
would they need them since the girls seemed to all be drugged
once brought to the rooms. No threat of them trying to jump.
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Pulling out his phone, he dialed Blaine. “Hey man, I need a
distraction,” he said the second Blaine answered the phone. “I’ve
got her.” He turned and looked at the young girl passed out on the
bed. “She’s out. I think they’ve drugged her, maybe roofied her or
some shit. I’m going to have to carry her out and I don’t think
they’re going to just let me walk out the front door with her.”
“Think a raid will do it?”
Darius was speechless for a few seconds. “How the hell are
you going to get a raid?”
“I didn’t say with cops.”
“Okay, I’m just lost then.”
“You dope, I’m going to raid the place! Just be ready to leave.”
“And how the hell am I going to know?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” The phone went dread, and Darius just
stood there frowning.
“That man just keeps getting stranger and stranger.” Shaking
his head, Darius went back over to Makayla. He knelt down once
more near the bed, grabbed the sheet and covered her up. As
much as he might be attracted to her, she still was a kid. “What
are we going to do with you, little one?”
* * * *
“You need stitches,” Kera told Samara for about the tenth
time.
Samara flinched when the ice touched her back. The beating
she endured was worse than anything she ever experienced at
the hands of her father. The son of a bitch who beat her really got
off on it. When she tried to fight back he backhanded her so hard
that she almost blacked out. That hit busted open her eyebrow.
“I’m not going anywhere until Makayla is back,” Samara said,
shaking her head.
“I can’t get this bleeding to stop,” Kera sighed. “Dane, please!”
“Samara you need to have that cut stitched up,” Dane said.
“I’m not leaving!” Tears filled her eyes again. She didn’t know
if it was from the pain in her back or the pain in her chest over
what might be happening to her sister.
“I’ve got some news.” Blaine came back into the guest house.
After they got Samara out all went back to Darius’s place and
decided to wait there until they had some news. “Darius has
Makayla, but in order for him to get her out he needs a big
distraction.”
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“Is she alright?” Samara knew she sounded desperate, but
didn’t care.
“As far as he could tell yes. They have her drugged though.”
Her heart sank. “But don’t worry. He’ll keep her safe, and we’ll
bring her home.” His finger went right at Dane. “You take her to
the hospital and have yourself checked out as well. Devon will go
with me and Kera with you.”
“I can go with you,” Dane said.
“Not with that knot on your head.” Blaine shook his head. “You
both need to be checked out. Once we get Makayla out, I’ll see to
it that she also goes to the hospital to get looked at.”
“Blaine, you don’t need to fight my battle here,” Dane stated.
“This battle isn’t all yours, Dane, it belongs to us all,” Blaine
said. “Now get her looked at. Come on Devon.”
“Thank you,” Samara said, stopping Blaine when he turned
and began to walk away. He didn’t look at her, only nodded.
“Come on,” Kera said, “Let’s get that head of yours stitched
up. Don’t need my best friend bleeding to death.”
Samara met Kera in the eyes and the tears fell, “I’ve never
had a best friend before.”
Kera smiled. “Neither have I. Kind of nice, isn’t it?”
With the help from Dane and Kera, Samara got back up on
her feet. Kera placed a thin sheet over her shoulders and she
winced at the contact. But she needed it since her shirt had been
ripped from her body.
The drive to the hospital was brutal. Each bump, each turn felt
like once more she had that thick belt hitting her backside again.
By the time they reached the hospital she felt as if she might pass
out. And when they were taken back, and a doctor saw what kind
of shape she was in, instantly she got a shot for the pain and
another to stitch her up. Ten stitches.
“How you doing?” Kera joined her in the room she would be
occupying for overnight observation. Lying on her side, Samara