I had to give it to Leo, whatever he’d gone through tonight, the kid kept his wits about him. Even with one eye swollen shut, he knew exactly where the girls were. I took a second to text Scrappy and let him know what we were doing, and to tell him to pull the van up to the front of the house, then followed Leo through yet another padlocked door. After picking that, we stepped through, and we inched down creaky, wooden basement stairs.
I almost threw up at the sight. Seven filthy mattresses were up against the cinder block walls. Five girls, ranging in age from about eight to maybe thirteen huddled together, all crying, all suddenly terrified... and all naked. There was no toilet, only a filthy bucket, and there were two security cameras on either side of the room.
Before we could move closer to them, another girl jumped out in front of us, a metal object in her hand, waving it like a weapon.
“Get away!” she screamed. She was in panties and a bra, but both were threadbare and showed far too much.
I caught her arm, prying the pipe from her hand and pulling her close. “You’re safe, sweetheart. No one’s gonna hurt you, but you gotta be quiet so we can figure out how to get you all out of here.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I can see that,” I said, gently.
“I’m, Leo. I saw you earlier. Do you remember?” He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her. “Slide your arms in that. It’s cold down here.”
I stepped to the rest of the girls and hunkered down in front of them. “We’re gonna get you out, okay? We just need you to trust us. Do you have anything you can put on?”
“We have sheets, but they’re dirty,” one of the girls said.
“Wrap them around yourselves best you can. We’ll get you out and go from there.”
They nodded, moving as quickly as they could to wrap themselves in their makeshift covering.
“Mister?” a little voice whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Mina’s leg is hurt. She can’t walk. I think they broke her arm, too.”
“Which one of you is Mina?” I asked.
A little girl about five raised her hand and I tried my best to hide the rage I was feeling about what I was seeing.
“How old are you, sweetheart?”
“Six,” she whispered, holding up six tiny, filthy fingers. Well, five. She was having trouble get the sixth one up, which confirmed, at least for me, that her arm was more than likely broken.
Jesus.
I stood, holding my arms out to her. “Come here, baby girl. I’ll carry you out of here.”
The other girls helped her stand, and I wrapped my leather jacket around her before lifting her. She weighed nothing and I made it my mission to get her somewhere safe and warm and shove food into her immediately.
“Okay, everyone, follow me,” I ordered, and we crawled back up the stairs. As we crested the tiny landing, we heard voices, and the girls whimpered, huddling close to each other again.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying my best to comfort them. “No one is going to hurt you anymore.”
We managed to move the group to the top of the stairs and into the hall, but I stopped them before going any further. “I’ll be right back. You girls stay here with Leo,” I said and returned to the living room.
“Is it bad?” Wrath asked as he gave me a chin lift.
“We can’t let these guys go,” I replied. “Not even to the cops. Not yet at least.”
“What’s the plan?” Rocky asked.
“Take them out the side entrance and hold them in the mud room until I’ve got everyone loaded into the van. Scrappy should already be out front, waiting for us. I don’t want these girls to ever have to lay eyes on these fucking monsters again.”
“On it,” Rocky said, and he and Wrath led our captives away.
