Page 9 of Forty Days and One Knight
“Oh, yeah. I’d fuck any one of them in a heartbeat. Especially that princess.”
Carlos laughed. “Right, amigo, like she’d ever give you the time of day.”
“Don’t need her to. I’d just do what Secada did—drug her up and tie her down.”
Darius’s gut sank, and he fought the urge to shoot both Carlos and Javier, then go find Secada and tear him limb from limb. He paused a few moments, making sure he had himself under control. The last thing he needed to do was raise any red flags. “Are you saying Secada did the princess? I thought Diaz was going to ask double the money for her because she was a virgin.”
“Nah, he didn’t do her. It was one of the other two with her—the taller one. From the looks of her when he brought her back downstairs, he had a good time. Beat her up good—she must have fought him like a wildcat. Secada’s fucked a few of them, but Señor Diaz doesn’t know that.” He lowered his voice as if afraid he’d be overheard. “Thecabrónwon’t let anyone else have a taste either.”
His jaw clenching, Darius poured the rest of his beer down the sink. While it killed him that Lahana or any of the other women being held had been raped by that asshole, he couldn’t help but be relieved it hadn’t been Tahira. Maybe it was because he’d never met the other women or spoken to them before. But it really didn’t matter because when the raid went down, Darius was going to make sure Secada suffered before being arrested or, better yet, killed.
Pushing his chair back so it made a scraping noise as he stood, Carlos frowned. “Mierda—I gotta do my rounds.”
It was obvious the man would prefer to finish eating the enchiladas and beans on his plate, so Darius took advantage of that. He thought he would’ve had to wait until his morning shift to hide the little surprises Ian had provided him with, but with everyone in the forty-room main house sleeping at this time of night, it was the perfect opportunity for him to do what he needed to do. “I’ll do it.” He shrugged. “Got nothing better to do—stay and eat.”
“You sure? Gracias, amigo.”
“Noproblemo. Won’t take long.”
Striding out into the hallway, Darius began to make his way around the first floor, under the guise of making certain the windows and doors were secure. He pressed a button on his watch and waited a few seconds before entering the formal living room. The black timepiece was something out of a James Bond movie and Darius freaking loved the thing. It looked like a common multifunction smart watch, but there was nothing like it available to the public. The tech gurus at Deimos had made some changes to a $60 version you could buy anywhere. The button Darius had hit was for a jammer that would interfere with the compound’s surveillance cameras. Some of the camera feeds would blink in and out, but the ones Darius was closest to would show nothing but static back in the security office. He’d been randomly fucking with the system for about three weeks now. At first everyone had freaked, but after finding no breaches, they’d finally written it off as a glitch in the system. In fact, the guards no longer alerted Diaz and Secada when it happened. They’d gotten complacent and that’s exactly what Darius had hoped would happen.
Entering the living room, he made sure he was alone, then unzipped the lining of his jacket. He pulled out a small block of C-4 and a detonator. The great thing about the putty-like explosive was that it was easy to carry without worrying about blowing yourself up. Only the shock wave from a detonator or blasting cap would set it off.
After inserting the wires of the detonator into the two-inch-square block, Darius lifted the top of a bench next to a baby grand piano, and gently set the explosive on a pile of sheet music. Ian had the device that would transmit the signal for it to blow when the time was right. They didn’t have to worry about Diaz’s wife or kids playing the piano before the raid. Last week, the man had shipped his family out to one of his other homes in South America. He hadn’t wanted them around for the auction, although Darius got the impression Diaz’s wife knew all about her husband’s illegal businesses but was too afraid to go against him and turn him in to the authorities. If she ever tried, she probably would’ve been dead within hours.
From what Darius had been told by the others, most of Diaz’s house staff would not be at the compound during the auction either. For that he was grateful, knowing that many of the women and a few of the men were innocent—unlike the guards. The only reason most of the house staff worked there was because they either really needed the money to support their poor families or they owed Diaz some sort of debt.
Once he’d strategically placed explosives in all the downstairs rooms he had access to, Darius climbed the elaborate, grand staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Diaz’s room was down the hallway to Darius’s left, with Secada’s and two cartel lieutenants’ rooms in the opposite direction. Diaz’s kids’ rooms and several guest rooms were all empty.
There was a seating area at the top of the staircase, with glass doors that led out to a balcony. All the windows in the mansion had been replaced with reinforced, bulletproof glass, while the wooden doors had steel inserts, which made it difficult for anyone to blast their way in. Difficult, but not impossible.
Avoiding the occupied rooms, Darius slipped into the other ones and hid the last of the C-4 under beds or behind dressers—anywhere they, hopefully, wouldn’t be found before it was showtime. The main objective of the explosions was to create enough confusion for the special-ops teams to attack. If anyone there for the auction was injured or killed in the blasts, Darius saw that as a bonus. The sick bastards deserved everything that was coming to them.
A little less than forty-eight hours from now, Darius and the hostages in the basement prison would be on their way to the United States. The women would receive treatment at a secure facility and then returned to their families and homes. Darius prayed they’d be able to put this horror behind them at some point, but he knew it would be difficult for Lahana and any others that Secada had raped. Forty-eight more hours and that bastard would be dead, and Darius vowed he would be the one to slaughter him.
* * *
Sixteen hours later...
Tahira shivered and wrapped her blanket tighter around her body as she sat on a threadbare mattress on the floor. As dirty as the thing was, she’d been grateful when one of the guards had tossed three of them into the cell. Although heat came through the ceiling vents, she still wasn't appropriately dressed for the cold, damp dungeon. What she wouldn't give for an electric blanket right now—actually, she'd give up her crown for a one-star hotel in the United States or anywhere else than this prison right now.
Based on the meal deliveries, she and her cousins had been there for almost three days. How long would they and the other women be held until they were sold?
Sold.
That word conjured up all sorts of horrors. She may be a virgin, but she was fully aware of the human trafficking that took place around the world. A charity to help fight it was one of the many Tahira supported. She’d heard all about the vile atrocities abducted women had been subjected to, with some of the stories coming directly from those who’d lived through it before being rescued. Unfortunately, the number of those rescued was a stark contrast to the ones who’d been killed or were still being held captive in some unknown part of the world.
She glanced over at Lahana lying in a fetal position on her own mattress. Her cousin had been sleeping on and off and had refused to talk about what had happened to her aside from the fact the bastard had hurt her. Tahira’s cheek still hurt from when he’d struck her, so she couldn’t image the pain her cousin was in—her body was covered in bruises. Even though she hadn’t been assaulted, Nala had also been very quiet since Lahana had been returned to the cell. She was sitting against the stone wall with her arms holding her knees to her chest as she stared at the floor in front of her and rocked back and forth. She’d been traumatized, yet in a different way. The nineteen-year-old was terrified about what was going to happen to them and was emotionally and mentally shutting down. While Tahira had never seen that happen to anyone before, she recalled talking to victims of human trafficking who mentioned they’d done the same thing as a coping mechanism. In a way, Tahira envied Nala, but she knew that if they were rescued, Nala would need professional help to recover from their abduction just as much as Lahana would.
In the near silence of the cell area, footsteps echoed, announcing someone was coming down the stairs. Tahira wasn’t the only one who’d heard them; the other women shifted around in their cells, probably trying to make themselves invisible, yet failing to do so. They’d already gotten their dinner a little while ago, as meager as it had been, so the only reason someone would be coming down there at that hour couldn’t be good.
Tahira looked around. From what Melinda in the next cell had told her, none of those assaulted had been taken a second time. Secada took a new woman each time. But maybe that wasn’t who was coming. Melinda had said after Lahana had returned that they were safe for a few nights. The perverted bastard only chose one of them once or twice a week.
All thoughts about safety fled her mind when Secada strolled through the door with two armed men on his heels. Out of the corner of her eye, Tahira saw Nala tuck her head under her arms as she shivered uncontrollably. She couldn’t let the younger woman be taken by the bastard. Pushing her terror down, Tahira stood and moved so she was between the cell door and Nala, blocking her from Secada’s view as the man stopped in front of her.
His leering gaze trailed from her face to her feet and back again. A swirling black aura surrounded the man—pure evil. She shook under his scrutiny but wouldn’t back down. She couldn’t let his attention turn to Nala.
“Defiant, aren’t you? I love to break the defiant ones. To show them I hold all the power. And now that Diaz is out of the way, it’s my decision on whether or not I should sell your royal virginity or take it for myself.”
