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Yasmina shook her head. “They’re untouched. For now. They sell at a higher price intact.” She lowered her eyes. “The same cannot be said the older you are. I doubt we’ll be sold to anyone but a pimp.”
Someone pounded on the side of the trailer, the women inside seized up, and all eyes turned toward the sound.
“Shut up in there!”
Nikita waited until she heard footsteps fade to speak in hushed tones. “Have you eaten anything?” She had the candy bar from Zane in her pocket. It wouldn’t feed them all but would help a few.
“Not today. We’re fed every third day.” She nodded to the giant water jugs. “They give us water daily. It’s not always clean, but it’s better than nothing.”
Those words haunted her. All her life, she’d taken so many things for granted while horrible men and women did this to innocents. She gritted her teeth, determined to stay alive if only to rip off Zane’s balls with a rusty fork.
“What did you do before they kidnapped you?”
Yasmina blinked several times before she spoke. “I worked at a bakery. We made the most delicious bread and sweet treats.” Her slight smile faded. “I imagine I’m eating at the back of the shop whenever we’re fed here.” She grimaced. “The food is almost always moldy or rotting. Three girls nearly died from it.”
Nikita gripped the underside of her thighs to keep from reacting. She didn’t feel mere anger. Outrage was putting it mildly. Just when she thought the situation for these women couldn’t get worse, it did.
“I heard them say you’d leave soon.” Yasmina handed her a scrap of paper. “Will you tell my mother I’m dead?”
Nikita’s face paled. Death was better than the future that awaited each woman and child in the back of the semi. She took the paper and opened it to see a name and address.
“Please.”
She nodded, swallowing her tears. “I’m going to get you all out of here.”
Yasmina smiled sadly. “You won’t. Some maybe, but not all.”
“Why do you say that?”
Moving closer to her, Yasmina coughed into her hands. The wheezing sound didn’t paint a pretty picture. “Some are too ill to move faster than a turtle.” The lilt to her words hitched. “But I think you will escape. The men, they said your father will pay your ransom. My parents couldn’t. They were poor bakers. Barely had enough money for rent.”
Nikita didn’t bother explaining. Clearly, whoever trafficked these women from varying places on the map used extortion and, when that failed, sold the women. If the men were as hideous as she thought, they probably took the money and the girls.
“They hurt you, don’t they?”
Yasmina nodded against Nikita’s shoulder. “It’s not so bad at first. The tasers, I mean. They use other sticks, harder ones the more you misbehave.” She shuddered. “But when they take you to… to…”
Wrapping her arms around the woman’s frail body, Nikita fought the heat rising in her soul.
“They take turns,” Yasmina mumbled. “If you don’t do what they ask, it’s longer and worse.”
Silent tears laced with fury trickled down Nikita’s face. She looked around the trailer. More than half were old enough to have been subjected to the horrors Yasmina spoke of. Nikita couldn’t bear to think of the other atrocities they’d endured.
The sound of chains being removed from the back door sent the women scurrying toward the front. She could only guess if they didn’t, they’d inherit more scars from a taser or baton. The sickly scent of burning flesh drifted to her, and she noticed a girl about ten years old with a healing wound on her arm. The sight pitched Nikita’s stomach. She swore to not eat a morsel until these women and children were free.
“Nikita, we’ve heard from your father.” Zane’s voice boomed in the long trailer. The sunlight waned outside, casting his shadows in a harrowing manner. “Let’s go.”
She scrambled to her feet, but not before she passed the candy bar to Yasmina. “I will come back for you. All of you.”
Yasmina took the candy but didn’t reply. She didn’t believe her. If Nikita lived in squalor for months, she wouldn’t believe the whispers from a stranger preaching hope either.
Carefully walking toward the exit, Nikita held her breath. Somehow the smell intensified the closer she got to freedom. The root of some of the stench caught her attention. An unmoving body lay near the door. The girl was bloodied, and the cold had minimally slowed decay.
“You sick bastard!” She hopped out and swung a right hook, hitting Zane square in the nose. Blood sprayed the freshly fallen snow, pink staining the ground.
Two Cutthroats restrained her before she could kick the traitor in the balls. She struggled at their hold, cursing at him in every language she knew.
Zane wiped the blood, smearing it across his upper lip. “Bitch! If Muerte wouldn’t pay handsomely for you, I’d let the men have their way with you.” He stepped closer, breath reeking of tobacco. “I’ll bet they’d enjoy your clean pussy after months of diseased whores.”
