Page 30 of Trek


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Trek

Thunder crashes, rattling the warehouse walls as I lie here limp and useless. My body can’t handle anymore. I can’t handle anymore. I’ve begged for death, and they just laugh in my face. Video after video has been made and sent to god only knows who. I’m sure they guys have all seen them too. I know they’re taunting them with this shit.

I rest my head on the cold bars and take a deep breath that hurts from being punched in the ribs so much. I wish for more of the drugs. I internally beg for them, but they will never hear me beg. No, I keep that to myself. Drake still hangs limply from the chains holding him in place. They haven’t raped him. They only beat and carve him up. It’s a sick game they’re playing.

A noise catches my attention, and I glance over at the door. I see it creep open, and something inside of me perks up.

“Drake,” I call out to him.

“Yeah.”

“Someone’s comin’.” He shifts slightly, trying to turn his head toward the sound.

“Probably the same assholes.”

“No. it’s not,” I argue. The door finally opens all the way, and I see the guys come barreling through the door with guns drawn and ready. A breath of relief slips from my lips as they move through the warehouse. They don’t come directly for us, and I knew they wouldn’t. They’re going to clear this place first.

It takes them a while before I hear the word ‘clear’. Then the guys are rushing toward us. One has bolt cutters, cutting Drake down while the other cuts the lock on my cell.

“You good?” Demon asks. I just give him a look that says I’m not. He nods his head as he and Griz move into the cell and help me to my feet. I’m still weak and have to rely on them to help me walk.

“Heavy motherfucker,” Griz groans, making me smile, or at least I think I move my lips. I’m led out of the warehouse and deposited in the back of the van. I take in the rain, letting it hit my skin. Lightning cracks through the sky, and I think it’s about the best thing I’ve ever seen. A storm brews inside of me. One that needs blood. Craves it.

“They’ll be back,” I tell Demon.

“We’re bettin’ on it. Gotta move the vans out of sight,” he informs me.

“We’re not leavin’ here without him,” I tell him. He nods his head, already knowing that.

“Didn’t plan on it, brother. We moved the girls to a better location, and the basement is free,” he tells me. I smile then.

“They’re dead,” I say more to myself than to him.

“Oh, they’re gonna be dead, brother. No doubt about that,” he adds.

I watch them bring Drake out of the warehouse and over to the van. I slide back, so I’m inside, and they set him down next to me.

“You dead?”

“Damn near. You?”

“Yeah. I’m dead, brother.”

“Don’t let them take you, Trek. They don’t deserve that.”

“You saw what they did to me,” I remind him through gritted teeth.

“And they were tryin’ to break you. Don’t let them. You’re better than that,” Drake says, his head lolling to the side.

“I don’t know what to feel,” I admit. I feel violated. I feel disgusted. I don’t know what to think or how I’m supposed to feel about this. I close my eyes as the guys move the vans someplace else. I know they’re going to wait for those assholes to come back, and they will come back. They enjoy using us. Torturing us. My stomach churns as I think about what they did to me. Bile burns the back of my throat as I let my head drop forward.

“We’re alive, Trek.”

“Are we?”

“Yeah, brother. We are.” I nod at Drake, although I don’t feel alive. I feel dead inside. I feel like everything I had was taken from me.

Ignoring it all, I focus on getting that motherfucker back for what he’s done. Not only to us but to Heidi and those other girls. I want them all dead for that but not before they pay for what they’ve done. I want them begging for death. Begging for me to kill them.

“We’re goin’ in for them,” Demon says as Drake, and I share a look. We want to be there, but we both know we’re in no condition to do that.

“Don’t kill him,” I tell Demon.

“He’s all yours, brother.” I nod my head as Drake lets out a laugh.

“You might be as sick as me, Trek.”

“You don’t even wanna know the shit runnin’ through my head right now,” I tell him. He smirks and lays his head back against the side of the van. Then Cross climbs in with a first aid kit and gets to work on Drake’s wounds.

“You need anything?” he asks me. I shake my head as he opens a bottle of water and passes it to me. I take it down slowly, careful not to let it all come back up.

“These are deep,” he says as he looks at Drake’s wounds.

“I’ll live,” he says.

“Yeah, you will, but they need stitches.”

“Then stitch the motherfuckers up,” he tells him.

“I don’t have any pain meds, brother.”

“Don’t need it. Just do it.” Drake orders. Cross gets out the supplies as I watch him. Then he gets to work stitching Drake back together. Drake doesn’t even flinch as the needle penetrates his flesh. Thunder rattles the van, and I find myself smiling. When my storm comes, there’s going to be hell to pay.

“We’re ready to roll,” Griz says when the back doors of the van open.

“You got him?”

“We got him and two others. The others are dead,” he reports. I nod my head, thankful that this shit is over.

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