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Chapter Seventeen
Sam felt like a vicious out-of-control bronco was kicking him in the stomach. The pain swamped him, and he had no way to shut off the tap. To do so would mean stopping Stasia from telling her story. And that couldn’t happen. She needed to talk, and they needed to listen.
And listen they did. She talked for an hour, about her poor heartbroken father who missed his wife and about the other children who she loved dearly and had wanted to help by earning good wages to share with them.
About the monsters who’d tricked her and taken such advantage. And the life she now lived, full of fear and self-hatred. The fighting amongst the others in the house where wretchedness filled the days and their only escape meant a few hours of sleeping forgetfulness.
In his profession, he was well aware of the modern form of slavery going on in so many places around the globe. Undocumented migrants whose immigration status was exploited for profit across a wide variety of industries. These unfortunate people were being used and abused by those who didn’t give a good God-damn about anything or anybody. Money was their motive, their idol, and turning a blind eye their way of dealing with the human misery.
Some might say the luckier victims were used as slaves to do menial labor, including debt bondage, when a person is forced to work for free to pay off a debt. Also, child slavery, forced marriage, domestic servitude where innocents are made to work through violence and intimidation
Like anyone with a heart, everything about these operations made him want to throw the sick shitheads involved in a cell and let them rot. Maybe it was time for him to get personally involved, him and his people.
Yet he was hamstrung by the promise he’d made his sister. He couldn’t rock this particular boat until his niece and nephew were safely back home where they belonged.
