Page 1 of Bones

Chapter One

Bones (18)

My eyes are drawn to her mossy green ones; the dark depths void of anything, her face blank of emotion. She glances around absently at the other girls crammed into the storage crate with her.

I’ll never forget their cries and screams of terror as they echoed through the air around us, drowning out the usual nighttime sounds. In that moment, everything around us seemed to stop, frozen in shock as we lifted the lid to reveal the contents of the crate. Even the insects seemed to sense the heaviness in the air, that something was seriously fucking wrong.

“Fuckin’ shit.” Dad hisses as he drops the crowbar he was using to pry open the crate like it burned him. We’d been informed by our mole, that the Red Devil’s were smugglin’ a hefty amount of pure fuckin’ ice. Well, they were smuggling somethin’ alright. I knew Geo was a sketchy fucking dude, but I had no idea he was this level of fucked up. We may be one percenter’s but even we have fucking limits. These girls can’t be more then fuckin’ thirteen years old for Christ sake. Plus, they all look emaciated, like they haven’t had a decent meal in months.

“Jesus…” I mutter under my breath as the girls continue to scream, cowering closer together. Six of them in total. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem to be having any reaction to our presence at all, either that, or she’s two sheets to the wind and has no idea we are even here. That seems most likely. They tend to get the girls addicted so they are easier to manipulate and transport. This whole thing’s fuckin’ sick. I have to turn around and take a few deep breaths so I don’t scare the girls unintentionally with my anger.

“Get ‘em out of there. Carefully,” Cain—King’s daddy and our Pres—says as he takes a deep breath before running his hands over his hair, struggling to keep his composure at the sight before us. A few of the guys move, steppin’ closer to the crate to do as he said, but the girls’ screams get louder, immediately causing the guys to backtrack. Cain’s eyes meet mine and I already know what he’s going to ask. Before he even opens his mouth, I’m already moving forward, arms up in the universal sign for surrender. Being the youngest one here, they are more likely to feel safer around me than any of the older guys. I catch Cain’s smirk as he nods at my correct assumption.

I continue to approach slowly with my hands still raised, slouching my shoulders and making myself appear smaller. I may only be eighteen, but I’m already almost as big as the rest of the guys.

“Shh.. Shh… It’s okay. We are here to help. We won’t hurt you. I promise,” I say in the gentlest tone I can muster, prayin’ they can see my sincerity. That’s when those vacant emerald eyes finally meet mine and my world seems to shift on its axis, everything blurring around me while still somehow hyper-focused on her. I have no fuckin’ clue what it means or why it’s happening but it’s almost as if the ground is moving under my feet, like one of those walking sidewalks at the airport. Her face remains impassive, not only void of emotions but void of life altogether. Like she’s already dead and given up. And I think that’s what hurts me the most. I have no clue who this girl is, but I do know she’s way too young to be so fuckin’ hopeless.

I make shushing noises, like a mother trying to quiet her baby. Anything to try and comfort them. It seems to work for the most part. The girls quiet down but still eye me with extreme trepidation. I can’t say I blame them; they look like they’ve been through the ringer.

“Come on, let me help you outta the box, okay?” My hands are still raised, I don’t make a move to touch any of them, while the rest of the guys remain far enough away that they aren’t perceived as a threat. She stands slowly and my eyes drop down her body, finally able to take in the full extent of the damage. She’s skin and bone, her face gaunt and eyes pocketed with dark circles, her clothes are old and tattered, hanging loosely off her bruised and boney frame. She looks like if she were to fall, she’d break a handful of bones. She seems to be in worse condition than the rest of the girls.

“Fuckin’ Jesus.” I spit, trying to keep my cool but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite this bad. Even dad sucks in a breath through his teeth before turning his head away. A mixture of disgust and horror at what we are witnessing, hitting us all.

Instead of taking my offered hand, she places hers on the edge of the box to lift herself out. I can see what looks like dried blood under her nails. So, maybe she hasn’t lost her will to live after all. She keeps her eyes on mine as she lifts herself up and out, moving slowly and smoothly as she places both feet gently on the ground.

The other girls, boosted by her courage, also rise to climb out of the tiny crate. I’m not sure how they all even fit in there, the box can’t be more than four foot by four foot. And God knows how long they’ve been trapped in there.

Her eyes slowly make their way around to the rest of the guys. Taking us in and seeming to categorize us, assessing who is the biggest threat, before her eyes land back on me and I’m not sure if that means she thinks it’s me or not.

“We won’t hurt you.” I reiterate, wanting more than anything to help her realize this.

“Do you know where you were heading?” Cain asks, trying to soften his rough timber tone, enough not to frighten the girls. I watch as her green eyes flinch slightly before she shakes her head no. Cain nods, seeming to have expected that. “Come on. We’ll take you back to the compound, get you all cleaned up and fed a proper meal. Then we can find‘a safe place for yah.” His eyes meet mine again before he tosses me the keys to the van we brought thinkin’ we would be haulin’ drugs back. I catch the keys in mid-air and make a big arch, giving them a wide birth as I head toward the van.

I open the door to the bench seat in the back. “Hop in so we can get you all fixed up.” I say with a gentle smile, wanting to seem as unimposing as possible. Green eyes, tilts her head to the side, as if reading everything about me ina’ moment, before she takes a steady step forward. The other girls whimper behind her. She looks back once she reaches the door, givin’ them the silent reassurance they need.

“What do we have to lose?” she states, her voice coming out like a gentle song when no one makes to move. I find myself wanting to hear more of it, instinctively knowing it’s something she doesn’t give often. There’s a pure, innocence about it. And in that moment, I can only stand there and admire her incredible strength. My brain can’t even begin to comprehend what this girl has been through, and yet her resilience and courage is remarkable. The girls, finding truth in her words move forward as one, before climbing into the van.

It isn’t until I close the door and start the car that the bikes roar up around us. Cain gives a little wave signaling for me to follow him. I nod as we make our way back to the highway that will lead us back to our territory and clubhouse.

Chapter Two

Beth (15)

My stomach sinks as we drive farther and farther away from the crate that has been my cage for the last twenty-four hours or so. We were meant to be picked up by whoever the last owners had sold us to. It all just blurs together at this point, all the owners are the same; corrupt, evil, heartless. The box may be different but I’m trapped all the same. Bound to this nightmare of an existence. Forced into it by the man I still love, the man I thought loved me just as deeply as I love him. A man who showed me what love is, who called me beautiful, and gave me his undivided attention.

What did I do wrong? It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times over the years, and still come up empty every time.

I wrap my arms tightly around myself as I look out the window, watching the trees speed by in a flicker of colors. I drag my eyes to the front windshield when we finally start to slow. Greeted by a large gate that stands at least ten feet tall. Within seconds it’s swinging open, and we were being waved through. My pulse speeds up and I question whether I made the right decision or not.

A large warehouse stands at the end of the dirt drive, the large area looks to be entirely fenced in. Nowhere to run, to escape. Fear bleeds through me but only for a moment before I push it down deep, bury it with the rest of the emotions I’ve been trained to hide.

When the van comes to a complete stop, the boy who was driving, turns to face us. I say boy, but he looks more like a man based on his sheer size. It’s only his eyes that give him away. I’ve seen the eyes of men for years now, stared into them as they took and did whatever they wanted to me. He lacks the darkness and depravity… the jadedness to this world and the cruelty in it that I always see in the men that purchase me.

His soft blue eyes meet mine, pleading with me to see he means no harm. Trying to speak to me without actually using the words. I’ve gotten very good at reading people. I suppose it comes with the territory, always having to watch for little queues to avoid punishment. It’s how I’ve managed to stay alive so long, unlike most of the girls who are trafficked. They quickly outlive their usefulness and are disposed of just as fast. But not me. Sometimes I think they’re the lucky ones though, they’re free.

In the span of the breath it takes for him to look us over, he says, “I promise you; we won’t hurt you. We aren’t like those other bastards. We’ll do everythin’ we can to help you guys. All I ask is that your honest with us, so we can figure out who did this and how to make it right, okay?” His words are sincere, he truly means what he’s saying or believes it, at least. My only response is a nod of my head before I yank the door open and lower myself to the ground. Everything aches. Pain radiates through all my joints from being contorted into that tiny box with five other girls.

My stomach stopped growling hours ago. Finally, having come to terms that it wouldn’t be getting any food. They hadn’t given us food or water for hours before they loaded us into the box to prevent us from using the bathroom. I guess I should be thankful for that. Being sold is bad enough, being trapped in a tight space with piles of shit and piss would be unbearable not to mention “damage the goods”.

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