“Are you still in the building?”he asks, like he’s just calling for a chat.
“Fucking yes.Did you actually need to call me to ask me that?”
“Get out of there.Don’t stay for the auction.We know where she is.”
I stop in my tracks.Brooks.They’ve found her.
“What?”I breathe.
“It’s in the files you sent over.Brooks Landry, along with all her measurements.”
Now my heart stops.“Where is she?”I whisper.“Is she still here?In the auction?What’s going on?”
Daniel pauses for an eternity, and I’m ready to reach through the phone and choke him to death when he finally starts speaking again.
“She’s not booked for the auction.I’m not sure how they decide which girls go to auction and which ones are shipped out, but they’re running both routes through their operation.And Brooks is slated to be shipped out of the port.Tomorrow night.”
My mind tears clean down the center at his words.Brooks isn’t here, which means she’s not about to be auctioned off to some NOLA asshole.She’s safe for the night, but only until tomorrow.
I need to get home and make a new plan.
Which means I have to leave the girls here to their fates.They’re probably downstairs already, maybe praying that someone will save them.But the girl I’m searching for isn’t here, and if I’m going to save her, I need to figure out when she’s shipping out and how I’m going to stop it.
Save the girls downstairs...or save Brooks.
I don’t even have to think about it.
“We’re on our way back to the mansion,” I say, my feet racing down the stairs.“Get started on some planning.I want to have options when I arrive.”
I feel horrible about leaving these girls behind, really I do.But let’s be honest.
This was always going to be about Brooks.No one else matters.
Brooks
It’s official.I can’t leave here without all these girls in tow.
Even if I just met these ones.
Because Kate and I have now been separated from the group of girls I took the last couple of days getting to know.Gone is the blond who cries all the time and the one other redhead in the group, who looked like she might be willing to join in on any plan I came up with.Gone are the brunettes who all look so much the same, and the lone girl from Atlanta, who missed her sister so much she cried for her every night.
I worked for endless hours getting to know those girls and trying to bring them some comfort, and now they’re all gone.Worst of all, I don’t know what that means.When Kate and I were moved, the other girls were being ‘tested’ for how sellable they were.I glance across the memory of what that included—because no matter what they say, I’m a coward sometimes—and start trying to figure out what that means.
Were they taken right to a ship, to be sent out to other cities?Are they still sitting in that room being put through their paces?
Are they still alive?
I think they must be.This organization wouldn’t go to all the trouble and expense of kidnapping so many girls just to kill them.It wouldn’t make sense, and from what I’ve seen and heard, it would go against their standard MO.I still don’t know what their goals are, but I’ve talked to enough of the girls to know they always follow the same pattern.They kidnap a certain number of girls any given week, and at the end of the week, they get rid of those girls.This mean there’s a constantly revolving cast in any holding room, which I suppose makes it harder for girls to build alliances and plan for an escape.By the time they realize they need to escape, they’ve already been drugged and beaten up and have one foot out the door.Trying to plan anything has to be even harder for girls who aren’t used to doing things for themselves in the first place.
And then I came along and disrupted everything.I’ve gotten to know some of the girls and have, against all the odds, found an old ally amongst the group.Together, we’ve been making some noise and I’ve even picked up some additional information.
Which is exactly how we find ourselves here, in a new building with a new group of girls.
I glance around, taking stock, and find that these ones are exactly the same as the others.Perhaps a little more worn around the edges, like they’ve been in the ring longer.Or maybe they’ve been hired out for a little extra cash.They look more tired, their skin paler, to the point that I wonder if they’re sick.
And God, they’re all so young.
The older part of me harps on that for a long moment.These girls need to go home to their mothers and be taken care of for two months, at least.They need the love and gentle hands of their own families, and instead they’re about to be shipped to shores unknown to become slaves for terrible men.
