Page 1 of Forced By the Bratva

Chapter 1 - Alyssa

Placing the phone back on its perch, I glanced over my shoulder. He stood on the other side of the room with that ridiculous smirk. The grey suit he wore was one of three he owned. He only used them on fight nights. Generally, he preferred his blue suits, though.

What a way to celebrate my twenty-first birthday. Look at him. He thinks he owns the world. But he just makes me sick. Since my mother passed, he’s forced me to do his evil bidding. It started out simple enough. But now I knew it was only due to my age that I was saved.

At first, it was serving drinks, then taking bids on fights. But now, now he has me selling organs on the black market. And after today, who knew what he would ask of me? I cringed just thinking about it.

Shivering, I felt my mouth drying while also filling with a sour taste. After every fight, this surgeon would come around. Those they couldn’t save would be taken to his hide-out, and the day after, I received a list of organs. I knew what he was doing wasn’t right. And even though I hated his guts, I couldn’t betray him.

No, I would leave. I have been doing some side hustling and have saved up quite a bit of money. Seeing that I spent most of my time on the phone, it was quite easy to do. I found a guy who steals antiquities. These I’ve been pondering off while I sold the organs. Tonight, I would go. Maybe during or right after the fight; I wasn’t sure yet. But I would find a way out.

I had one last sale to do. The supplier sent me the item, and the buyer will meet me at the fight tonight. Once I give him the item and get the last money, I’m outta here. I had been so deep into my thoughts that I hadn’t seen Jones, my stepfather, walking over.

Grabbing me by the shoulder, he pulled me from my perch on the bar stool at the kitchen table.

My feet wobbled as I tried to find my footing while he shook me with full force. “What’s going on in that tiny head of yours?” he screamed. “There is work to be done. You don’t have time to sit around doing nothing! Do you hear me?”

Pushing with all my might, I tried to turn out of his grip. “Yes, yes, I know. Please let me go, you’re hurting me.” I begged as I felt my eyes stinging from the fury of tears threatening to flow like a river suddenly.

“You are nothing without me!” Jones spat at me as he shoved me to the ground.

Blocking with my hands to prevent my head from smashing into the tiled floor, I felt a sting run up both arms. Glancing over my shoulder, I glared at the graying brute. “Why can’t you ever talk to me like a human?” I asked in a shaky voice, swallowing hard at the knot in my throat.

Jones lifted his stubbled chin into the air as he chuckled. “You’re nothing but a nagging child. Grow up, and maybe I’ll treat you better,” he said, bending forward. “Now get off the floor and do as you’re told, or I’ll make you pay!”

Jones stood with his hands folded across his chest, watching me as I rose. I dared not say another word as I wasn’t sure I could keep my tears at bay. I could feel his stare burning into my soul as I returned to the counter.

Flipping through the notes without interest, I hoped he would leave, seeing as I was working again. It was enough for him. He turned and headed out.

Sitting back down, I allowed the heavy breath that was clutching my chest to escape. Tears rolled down my cheeks, falling to the pages before me. Anger surged through me as I slammed my fist on the counter. After all these years, he still got to me. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket.

Taking several deep breaths, I assured myself it wasn’t long. By the end of the day, I would be free from this tyranny. After concluding the last five sales of organs, I filled the kettle and made a cup of hot chocolate. I stood gazing out the window at the dried grass and trees in the distance.

This place he called home. The house on the hill, surrounded by vast nothingness, wasn’t my home. My heart was heavy, and my mood was low, as always.

But this wasn’t my life. It was a means to an end, I told myself. I’ve been coping with his moods and attitude for eight years. But after today, no longer will I succumb to his needs. Taking my cup, I headed up to my room.

Opening my closet, I removed a medium-sized backpack. I felt sure it wouldn’t look conspicuous and only needed to take the bare necessities. Placing the bag on the bed, I carefully considered what would be required. I would need at least enough clothes for a week. Hairbrush, toothbrush, and at least two pairs of shoes.

After gathering my things, I stuffed the pack. Standing back, I wondered if it wasn’t a bit overfull. I removed a pair of sneakers and a jacket. It appeared more reasonable, and I felt sure Jones wouldn’t be suspicious.

As usual, we left just before lunch, heading to the run-down building on the outskirts of town. In my opinion, out of the five places Jones owned, this one was the nicest. Don’t get me wrong, the outside was atrocious. But the inside, man, you would think you were in a five-star gambling den.

The drive there was spent in silence. I preferred it that way. The property was enclosed by high walls. Pulling up to the gate, the guards opened it, and Jones drove around the building to the back. We had to wait a couple of minutes for the hatch parking doors to open before we could drive down into the basement parking.

It was meant to be a three-story complex many years back. Now, the outside of the brick and steel building was half-built walls with a steel frame and not much else. There were no trees or plant life of any kind. As far as the eye could see, there was sand and dust. Jones had the hatch doors installed once the lower levels were completed, and he used them for illegal fighting once a month.

He had four other properties built in a similar style for rotation, but this one had the most magnificent inside. Parking in the furthest corner from the hatch, we were greeted by the manager and two guards.

“Good day, Mr. Thompson,” the manager said as we walked towards the entrance doors. Mr. Goochil just glanced at me and nodded as he held the door open for us to enter.

“I’m just going to the ladies' room,” I said taking a left at the first corridor.

“Don’t be long; there’s work to be done!” I heard Jones grumbling as I walked away from them.

The corridor was lit with only a couple of small round lights fitted into the ceiling. It led to two dressing rooms and two bathrooms. Passing the dressing rooms, I noticed some regular fighters were already warming up. Growing up in this kind of life, I wouldn’t say I hated the fighting. But I surely didn’t approve of it either.

I was more disgusted by the death it led to and what happened to those poor souls afterward. Entering the ladies’ room, I headed to the last stall. Stepping inside, I locked the door. I placed my bag securely on the windowsill. Once the evening was on its way, I would return for it and sneak out.

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