Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 Read online

  I picked nervously at my manicure. It’d been six years since I’d been freed. Despite all of the therapy, training, and education I’d gained since then, I was still filled with anxiety, knowing I was about to come face to face with the man who’d abused me over and over again. He may not have abducted me, but he sure as hell took advantage of my captivity.

  Just thinking about him made my blood boil. I hated that motherfucker and couldn’t wait to see him exposed for the slimy son-of-a-bitch he was. All the vile things he’d done to me raced through my mind.

  Even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good, I was working myself up just thinking about him. I needed an outlet whenever I got like this. Normally, I’d go out for a run or attack a punching bag at the gym, but right now I was stuck in this hot van, fidgeting in my seat. The driver’s cigarette smoke was starting to get to me.

  The bitter side of me wanted to turn my anger on the women crammed in this tight space with me. Why would anyone willingly agree to work these events and pass out hors d’oeuvres, as if nothing fucked up was happening around them? Granted, the shadier stuff took place behind closed doors. But between the degrading comments from the partygoers and the mostly naked, strung out, bruised girls, there was no way to mask what was going on.

  Before my rescue, I’d been on the other side, watching the blank stares of the wait staff and begging with my eyes for just one of them to help me.

  But no one ever had.

  How in the hell could a person with a conscience simply walk away at the end of their shift after witnessing another human being humiliated then dragged away to be tortured?

  I wanted to lash out at these girls for being so damn selfish, but then I heard the girl next to me swallowing hard like she was trying to keep the bile from rising in her throat. I’d been doing the same thing since we’d gotten in the van.

  I clenched my fists in my lap and puffed out a calming breath. What right did I have to judge any of them? My goal for the night was to get my own selfish justice when I should’ve been focused on saving the enslaved girls that would inevitably be there. Just like I’d once been.

  The van skidded to a stop, forcing a few of us forward and out of our seats.

  “You stupid fuck.” Our driver’s arms flew up as he puffed out a ball of smoke and yelled curses in a heavy accent out of his driver’s side window. “Learn how to fucking drive, asshole.”

  We scrambled back to our seats when he glared in the mirror and yelled something back to us in what sounded like Russian. My knees throbbed from hitting the floor, and I began to let doubt seep in.

  Staring blankly ahead, I forced my thoughts to drift back to the day I’d always live to regret. The day that sent me spiraling further than I ever thought possible.

  I lift my shaky hand to knock on the door, feeling the beginnings of my withdrawals. Sweat drips down my forehead as chills overtake my body. If I don’t get something soon, I’m gonna end up in the fetal position, puking my guts out on this front porch.

  The door rips open and a tall guy, wearing nothing but torn jeans, glares at me. “Yeah?”

  Everything in me is screaming to run away, but my need for a fix and achy muscles keep me rooted in my spot. “I’m a friend of Dave’s.” The words pass through my dry, cracked lips, but my pissed-off thoughts are on Dave.

  He’s the asshole who introduced me to this shit in the first place and has kept a steady supply coming my way. Until today, that is. Thanks to him, a month after starting this crap, I can’t go a fucking day without it. I hate him for turning me into a junky. And I hate myself even more for letting him.

  The guy at the door steadies his eyes on me as his lips purse in a menacing way like he’s sizing me up. Finally, he pushes the screen open and cranes his neck to look around me. “Come in.”

  The familiar vinegar, band-aid smell hits my nose the second I step inside, and I know I’ve come to the right place to take the edge off. I jump when the door slams shut, and he stalks by, plopping down on the dingy couch.

  “Alexa, right?”

  Nodding quickly, I pull my jacket tighter around my body, glancing around the room at the peeling paint, shitty broken furniture, and stained carpet. How can I have sunk so low in a matter of weeks? I was a straight A student, who just graduated from high school. I should be packing for college, not standing in a drug dealer’s living room, begging for my next hit.

  The scratchy sound of his palm running up and down his bare chest grates on my hyper aware nerves. “Heard it was your drunk ass mom who wrapped her car around that light pole on Oak Street last month. Killed herself and your sister, so you’re on your own now, huh?”

  This asshole is getting under my skin, and I feel like slamming my fist into his smug ass face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  He had no fucking right talking about them. I was supposed to be home watching my little sister that day, not at the fucking movies with my friends. Loss was a bitch to swallow. Guilt was a whole other motherfucker all on its own. The night they died was the first time I tried smack, hoping it would dull the pain.

  He shrugs. “Just trying to make conversation.”

  Even through my blurry vision, I see something sinister passing through his eyes, making me wonder if there was more meaning behind his question. Wringing my fingers, I try my damndest not to let his comment overrule me. I’m only here for one reason, and I’m not leaving without it.

  “Just get on with it.”

  A wicked grin covers his lips. “You know the deal, right? A favor for a favor.” He got up and starts toward the hallway.

  My hands are shaking even more now that I’m clenching onto the ends of my sleeves. “Yeah, I know the deal.”

  He disappears through a doorway and returns with a girl who looks worse than I feel. “Take off your jacket and have a seat.” His commanding tone scares me for a second, until I see what he has in his hand.

  I sit down, close my eyes, and rest my pounding head on the back of the couch. The filthy cushions smell like piss, and I fight the need to gag. My arm is lifted and placed on the armrest before I feel the band tightening around it, foreshadowing the blessed ecstasy soon to follow. I’m being treated like a ragdoll, but I’m seconds away from euphoria and I don’t give a fuck about anything else.

  The smell of melted plastic hits me before I feel the sting of the needle kissing my skin. Warmth rushes through my veins, straight to my chest, then radiates through my entire body.

  Somewhere in the foggy background, I hear a voice. “You bitches are all the same. Shoulda asked what I wanted in return before you let me shoot you up.” The sinister laugh echoes through my subconscious, but I couldn’t care less what he wants from me. We both know I’ll give it.

  Gulping hard, my whole body wilted as I came out of the memory. I usually tried not to think about that day unless I had to. Or about waking up hours later in a room packed with other strung out girls who’d also been captured. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I’d exchanged my freedom for a hit of smack. It would’ve been safer to sell myself on the street and pay for my drugs than make that deal with a human trafficker.

  Thankfully, the fucker who’d shot me up and abducted all of us was now rotting in prison on too many charges to count. He was someone else’s bitch now.

  Most of the cocksuckers who paid him to violate us were either dead or had fled the country. But there was one man who was still around, living his life as though he’d never beat me before defiling me, repeatedly. He continued to schmooze with other government officials like he hadn’t kept me tied to his bed for entire weekends with no food or water.

  A part of me had hoped, now that he was a senator, he would’ve changed his ways. That was until Marcus told me his name was on the catering company’s clientele list. Nowadays, the senator wasn’t just attending those parties, enjoying the entertainment. He was throwing them himself.

  I blinked quickly when the whooshing sound of the van’s door sli
d open, sucking me back into consciousness. So caught up in my own head, I didn’t realize we’d arrived at our destination.

  This was it. I’d been preparing for this night for months, and there was no backing out now.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gathered all my nerve and scooted in line to exit, along with the group. The pep talks I’d given myself all month had worked to keep my eye on the prize. But now that I was here, it was easy to second guess my decision.

  I took a deep breath and reeled in my scattered thoughts as the girl ahead of me stepped out. The bottom of her ass cheeks were hanging below her black stretch shorts. Since I was wearing the same tight, skimpy outfit, I imagined the view from behind me was the same.

  When I’d first arrived at the catering company tonight, I’d been given five minutes to strip out of my regular clothes and into this skanky uniform right before we were ushered into the passenger van.

  Just as I found my footing on the asphalt, Genevieve, the owner of the catering company, gripped her thick fingers around my bicep and squeezed, cutting off my circulation. My heart raced, filling with panic, but I was careful not to move out of her grip as I stared with compliant eyes at her wrinkled face. The last thing I wanted was to cause suspicion.

  “Listen to me.” She dug her fingers into my flesh to make her point as she spoke in a gruff tone. “Remember you signed a nondisclosure agreement. Whatever you see in there,” she pointed her plump, short index finger toward the large mansion, “is none of your fucking concern. You’re here to do a job and, if you do it well, you’ll be compensated. But if you fuck up, you won't get jack shit. You feel me?”

  If only she knew that nondisclosure agreement wouldn’t stand up in court since I’d signed it with a fake name from my phony ID. I nodded anyway, feigning understanding before she let go and allowed the blood to flow through my veins once more.

  She tightened her beady eyes. “I don’t know you, which means I definitely don’t trust you. I may not have anything to hold over your head yet, but if you screw me over, I’ll be more than happy to take it out on your ass. And I know just the guys who would love to help make you disappear.” She scanned my body head to toe, paying special attention to my chest. The material of my revealing outfit did little to cover me.

  When her lips curved up, I could see yellow teeth peeking through like a hungry animal finding its next meal. “As a matter of fact, you might be more valuable than I realized.”

  A shudder of disgust raced down my spine, and a familiar rage stirred in the pit of my stomach as I turned to face her smug expression. I moved my balled up fists behind me, feeling the painful bite of my fingernails digging into my palms. Genevieve may not have been directly responsible for my kidnapping and imprisonment, but I didn’t doubt she had connections to make it happen if she wanted. Plus, assholes like her just stood by, profiting while repulsive motherfuckers lined up to take turns forcing themselves on me at parties just like this one.

  I had to remain focused, though, and make sure I didn’t let my emotions overrule my goal. I’d promised Marcus I could handle this. Technically, this was his mission and the ultimate responsibility fell in his lap. Not only would it break my heart to disappoint him, but I had to do this for me.

  Genevieve cackled, making my skin crawl. “Lucky for you Claudine got food poisoning last minute and vouched for you.”

  This woman was so fucking blind. She had no idea that had been the plan all along.

  This last month, Marcus and I had been shacking up at a rundown apartment, where, coincidentally, Genevieve's niece, Claudine, happened to also live. After an ‘accidental’ run-in with Claudine by the pool, I’d blurted out that I was in desperate need of a job and just like I’d hoped, she introduced me to her aunt.

  For the first couple of weeks, I’d only been working as a server at weddings for Genevieve's catering service. Then, I hinted to Claudine that I wanted to work jobs that didn’t involve the same lame best man and maid of honor speeches while the ‘Macarena’ or ‘YMCA’ played in the background. It didn’t take much to convince her to fake her own sickness, go to bat for me, and give me her shift. In return, I’d promised to give her most of what I’d earn for the night. Too bad the only thing she was getting afterward was one pissed off aunt.

  Genevieve narrowed her eyes at me. “Let me do one final check to make sure you aren’t concealing anything.”

  I turned my head to the side, refusing to watch her grope me. Her hands stopped at my breast where she felt around a little too long. If she only knew her fingers had already grazed the micro camera I’d crazy glued to the front clasp of my top.

  Even though Marcus hadn’t said anything through the tiny wireless earpiece secured in my ear, I knew he was watching and listening to the feed, cringing for me.

  “Now don’t embarrass me and get your ass to work.” She pointed her stubby index finger at my face. “I work too hard to let some piss-poor excuse for a waitress ruin that for me.”

  I breathed out as much of a sigh of relief as the constricting corset would allow and made my way across the driveway, keeping a watchful eye on Genevieve. She was barking orders to the kitchen staff who were removing trays of food from the refrigerated van.

  My high heels clicked on the cement stairs as I made my way up toward the back door where the other girls had entered. “Here were go.” I whisper-breathed loud enough for the camera’s microphone to pick up before I stepped inside.

  “Gotcha, baby girl. Your GPS is tracking perfectly.” Marcus’ smooth, deep voice sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t wait for this to be over so I could collapse in his arms where I was safe.

  I stepped into the kitchen where aluminum pans lined the island and more continued to come in from behind me. All the other female servers were standing in line on the other side of the room, waiting to be given their appetizers or drinks. My stomach growled as the smell of tonight's fare hit my nose, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I wouldn’t dare try to eat, though, or my nerves would send everything right back up.

  I went to the end of the line and watched as girls took their trays and stepped through the swiveling door out to where I imagined the party was in full swing. The party that I was about to witness from the ‘help’s’ point of view.

  Oh God, what was I about to come face to face with?

  Even though Marcus had reminded me to prepare myself, I had only concentrated on nailing the motherfucker who still hadn’t paid his dues for what he’d done to me and other girls.

  My thoughts and heart began to race.

  “I can hear your breathing picking up. Are you okay?” Marcus spoke softly, trying not to add to my anxiety. “Clear your throat if it’s a yes.”

  Without hesitation, I did as he asked to assure him that I was fine. He didn’t need to know I was moments away from a full on freak-out. It was too early for that.

  “You can do this, Alexa,” he reassured me. “I believe in you, but if shit goes down, I’m breaking in and getting you out of there.” He’d said the same thing when I’d finally convinced him to let me be a part of this sting operation. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I cleared my throat again to let him know I acknowledged what he’d said. After all I’d been through, I didn’t take his promise lightly. I felt overwhelmed, knowing he would do everything in his power to keep me safe.

  “Besides,” he spoke in that heady tone of his that I could never get enough of. “There’s only one reason I ever want to hear you breathing hard, so if you don’t calm down, I’m gonna bust down that damn door, drag you back to the hotel room, and give you a much better incentive to have to catch your breath.”

  I inhaled sharply and began to pant. Feeling weak in the knees, I turned around and leaned my palm against the wall. Marcus knew that, besides rocky road ice cream, he was my one weakness, and he had no problem using that fact to distract me.

  “I’m serious, Alexa. Stop.” He groaned like he was
having some self-control issues of his own. “You’re killing me right now. We have plenty of time for that later, and believe me, it will happen tonight, but right now we've got to complete this mission.”

  Goosebumps broke out all over my skin as I imagined what he was going to do to me. But he was right. I needed to get my shit together. Spinning around, I puffed out a long breath when I realized I was next in line.

  The platter I picked up had tiny shrimp puffs, so I figured it would be cleared off in no time and I’d be able to escape back to the kitchen fairly soon.

  “I got this,” I whispered to myself as the door swung open and I caught my first glimpse of the function. It wasn’t at all what I had expected. It was just a bunch of pompous assholes sitting around sipping alcohol from their tumblers and smoking cigars. To the left, a few girls danced around stripper poles on what looked like a portable stage, but nobody seemed to even be paying attention to them.

  Strolling into the room, I confidently made my way toward the guests, offering appetizers to the men. Their obnoxious eyes roamed up and down my body, making me feel just as dirty as I had in the past.

  I tried to tune out Marcus’ irritated grunts. Through the hidden camera feed, he no doubt was picking up how they were gawking at me. It was to be expected, I guess. This outfit left little to the imagination.

  The other waitresses were scattered throughout the area. Each with the same practiced, blank look on their faces. I’m sure their skin was crawling as much as mine was.

  Scanning the room a few times, I saw the stairs that led to the second floor. A man adjusting his jacket strolled down while two others seemed ecstatic as they prowled up. Senator Kendall was nowhere to be seen. For a split second, I wondered if we were at the wrong party. That was, until I approached what looked like the dining room.

  I heard what was happening before I saw anything.

  Someone had left one of the sliding doors open, wide enough for me to see the four girls splayed out across the long mahogany dining table, bound and gagged, completely exposed. It was the same table I imagined Senator Kendall’s family ate their meals at.