Page 5 of Fight for You
“Oorah, baby!” I lifted my drink in mock salute because I wasn’t all that interested in turning this moment into one of brotherly bonding. This wasn’t a social call. “I retired from the Marines half a year ago. After I saw a girl in a cage, it sorta put things into perspective.”
“You remembered the kids?”
I nodded. Yep. That was the moment it clicked. The feeling I couldn’t name before—why I’d pushed everyone away, why nothing filled that void. That was Jordyn. “I’ve created a list. Accomplished every task, except for one.”
Leith leaned back, lost in thought, and remarked, “You found the captives? All but one? Now you want to rescue them?”
“Technically, they’re safe. For the most part. Two boys, four girls. Easy jobs. After being traded for sex, some of them were servants. They were held against their will all this time. Many of their owners weren’t rich enough for the type of surveillance that might necessitate a team. I extracted five, all on my own. Except for one boy.” Though rarely showing emotion, I shifted in my seat, anger simmering beneath a calm exterior. “Ignacio did what I did. He didn’t fail, though.”
“Suicide?” Leith winced. “That still leaves one kid left? The other boy or another girl?”
“Jordyn.”The only girl who understandsme.
3
TARZANA HILLS
Jordyn
8797 days captive
Aleksandr had hurt me.No doubt about that. He hadn’t broken my ribs, as I suspected. He’d just bruised them as well as the rest of my body.
After a few days in the shed, Aleksandr had taken immense pleasure in punishing a part of my body that most men didn’t care for. Minor injuries to the foot—scrapes, superficial cuts—took one to two weeks to heal. He took care in cutting the soles of my feet as he taunted me with a single name. Days later, the tiny nicks and cuts were no longer bloody.
Six days. I thought I’d been in the shed six days based on trying to keep a count. Ironically, the day after my escape attempt was Independence Day. Fireworks erupted all night as I sobbed until my eyes swelled shut.
As my stomach pressed against my spine from the small ration of food—an apple and daily bottle of water—I crawled on the ground in the shed. Crawled toward the dim light of day from thetiny windows, high on the wall. By noon, I would crawl back over toward the darkness, away from the scorching July sun. I crawled, allowing the stale air to heal my wounds. The area was relatively free of debris, but the wound scrawled along my heart festered.
Though I’d already read the name Aleksandr branded into my skin with a Damascus folding knife, I glared at it again. Hot, angry tears blurred my vision.
I read my first sole: ROC.
My shoulders darn near slammed against my ears.Barking. The four West Siberian Laikas had access to the entire compound. Those evil dogs dominated everywhere. The area between the main house, a pool house Aleksandr’s son kept for himself, and the shed where I sat trembling like a frightened child in a hurricane. Why were they barking?
Food—steak or otherwise?As long as I’m not on the menu, I’m fine.
To take my mind off them, I glanced at the raised flesh beneath my other foot. Three more letters completed the name of the man I hoped I’d never hear again.
Rocket.
Aleksandr couldn’t have sold me back to Rocket? I ran my thumb over the lumpy flesh of my otherwise soft feet and screamed until my throat clawed for more water than what I’d rationed out. If he’d give me at least two water bottles a day, maybe more food, I could survive. At this rate, with sweat pouring from me … I wouldn’t make it. And with the name scarred on my feet, I didn’t care to, anyway.
Light reachedme again from the high-up window. Another night checked off. Seven days? I thought so. Then, I heard what pulled me out of a dreamless sleep. Footsteps. I sat with my legs together,tucked to one side to cover a secret treasure nobody had no business seeing, feet tucked near my rear. I embraced myself, my arms a guard for my heart and chest.
The shed opened, and my hands flew to my eyes. Despite the scarce daylight filtering in daily, my pupils screamed.
“You happy to see me?” The leader of Aleksandr’s guard leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. Oh, so relaxed. Denis held up a bottle of water like he’d encapsulated the fountain of youth.
“Denis, hey,” I croaked. “Is Aleksandr still angry with me?”Talk.Tell me something. And where was the apple?
Offering a wolfish grin, he said, “Nope. He sold you for 2.7 million.”
Sounded good to me. Regardless of how many people he wronged, Rocket lacked that level of wealth. The second they tried to swap me, I’d succeed at what I hadn’t the first eight times. Nine times a charm, right? Unless that small-time hustler had upped his money game.
If Rocket had worked his way up the ranks, then I was deader than dead. “Can I have the water?”Dang. I should’ve asked another question. The little tit-for-tat freak standing in front of me skirted around everything, and the look in his eyes told me he knew the buyer. Also, I didn’t have zilch to offer but my body. While Denis always understood that was off limits because of Aleksandr, it didn’t stop his searing gaze.
And boy, was he looking. My throat clamped while my mind tried to rationalize the price. Should’ve gone down in value.No.No.No.I can’t see Rocket again.“Th-the water, please. Denis, it gets so hot in here during the day.”
