Page 115 of Bad Enough

As they entered the conference room, Midas had a link to TB’s watch up on the telescreen so that everyone could see what he was receiving.

“How the hell does this fucknut have my number?” TB growled.

“Don’t know, don’t care right this second. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have this video. We’ll worry about that mess later.”

A fourth text came up on the screen just as Waters was patching God in through the speaker. Third girl.

“Demon and Steel are with Fleur in the infirmary. She’s still unconscious. Demon’s doing blood work to see what’s in her system,” Waters told the room.

Fifth text. Fourth girl.

Sixth text. Tilly Moll.

Soon, he had video footage of all of the missing girls and two empty containers. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who was going in those containers.

None of the footage was good. Now they were able to see slightly more than before because the girls were stirring slightly inside the cells. Each of the girls was next to naked. They were clean and didn’t appear to be hurt, but they were not fully awake. And there were digital numbers running above their heads.

“Midas,” TB choked out.

“Yeah, man, I see it. The numbers are running backward. Lowest countdown is the first girl who went missing. Jesus, this is live footage.” TB heard swearing around him. “The footage has no sound, and it’s only broadcasting, not receiving. He can’t hear us if we speak.”

“But we can’t hear him, either.”

“Fuck.” Midas’ expletive was beyond angry. “It’s an auction. Just found it on the dark web. The timers match the closing of each auction. Bids are closing on girl number one within ten minutes. But this makes no sense. Waters, why would he hold onto these other women so long just to sell them now?”

“I don’t know. Would have thought the danger of getting caught, added to the cost of maintaining them, would have been too great. We need to worry about that later, though.”

The texts on the screen shrunk to form a banner across the top of the telescreen. The core of the screen became the timer for girl number one and the auction site. The first woman was currently at a bid of just over two million dollars. The bidders were playing with each other, raising the amounts in small increments with each bid, making her life a game.

God piped in. “Can you shut down the auction, Midas?”

“I can, but if I spend my time doing that, I can’t find where the women are.”

“Keep looking for the women,” TB ordered. No way was he going to allow anything to get in the way of finding Flame, even if it meant those other women were “sold.” It might make him an asshole, but they could always go after them once Flame was secure.

All of a sudden, there was shadowy movement in the second to last frame. Light flooded one of the empty cells as its door opened. A man’s head came into view from underneath the camera. He had Medusa in his arms, unconscious. He leaned her against the wall, then took the wrist shackles and hooked them around her wrists, the arms stretching to their maximum distance. She was basically hanging from her wrists. When she woke up, she would have room to stand, but not much beyond that.

The shackles must have been attached to the timer because as soon as they clicked into place, her countdown started. Three hours. Not a lot of time. But they didn’t need a lot of time. Just a location. This prick couldn’t be far away since Medusa and Flame had disappeared less than two hours ago.

Once Medusa was secure, the man slapped her face. Hard. She was slow in responding, still clearly under the effects of being out cold, but it was unclear whether it was because he’d knocked her unconscious or because he’d given her some kind of drug. She had cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over her. She’d obviously been in a scuffle. And there was a jagged, oozing cut along the inside of her left forearm. TB remembered all the broken glass from the ladies’ room—the shattered vanity mirror—and realized that Medusa had fought to protect Flame.

Her captor hit her again.

This time, she opened her eyes, clearly trying to blink her vision back into focus. She scrambled to get her feet under her and stand. The man must have said something to her, but because there was no audio, all they had was Medusa’s responses to gauge what was going on.

She spit at him.

“Thatta girl,” Nemo praised.

TB felt incredibly hopeless. He knew what was going to happen next. Another container was going to be filled, and this one would have Flame in it.

Sure enough, seconds after Gendry left Medusa, he showed up in an open cell with Flame in tow. The difference was that she was awake. She wasn’t fighting him. She looked terrified.

“Do whatever he tells you to do, sweetheart,” TB whispered.

He watched as Gendry yelled at her to do something. He watched as she put her wrists into the cuffs and locked them shut. The bastard was forcing her to put herself in her own prison. Punishment for running away in the first place.

The timer started.

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