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The sound of ripping, splintering wood filled the air. A metallic squeal followed.
Gabe had forced the door right off its hinges. It toppled forward and crashed down onto the wooden floor with a deafening clang, sending more splinters flying.
And then, from down the narrow corridor, a man approached at a run. He was dark-haired, with a pugnacious set to his jaw and thick, solid shoulders.
And he was holding a gun in his hand. As he ran forward, he fired at them.
Cora twisted sideways to the wall as two shots filled the air, exploding in her ears. Gabe ducked instinctively.
She wasn't hit; she hoped Gabe wasn’t, and it was time to return fire. She pulled the stolen gun out of her belt. She hadn't even seen if it was loaded. Or if it was in working order. But in a moment, this man would fire again once he’d paused to get his aim right. A split second's time was all she had.
She lifted the gun, squeezing the trigger as soon as it was pointing at him, ready for the recoil, her hand and arm instinctively absorbing it. The shot was sharp, the noise deafening in the narrow corridor.
The guy staggered back, dropping his gun, crying out in pain. His hands flew to the wound in his thigh, where blood was pumping. Cora didn't care if he lived or died. She raced forward, her feet clanging over the fallen gate, stopping as she passed him to grab his gun. Now she had two weapons in her belt. And now, the corridor was stretching ahead before them, a dark mouth leading them on.
She could hear more shouts and another voice. A woman's voice raised loudly in a call for help.
Was that Rose?"
Her heart accelerating, Cora raced ahead.
CHAPTER THREE
"Rose?" Cora shouted. "Rose, are you there?"
There were doors lining this passage, a few of them, and she grabbed the first door she came to and yanked it open. Inside, a man was busy yanking up his pants, cowering in the corner, fear on his face, and guilt too. As for the woman, her expression was raw terror, blue eyes wide in a face that looked dull and tired. Cora didn't want to think what she'd been through, what she'd endured in this tiny, stinking room with its steel-framed bed and grimy coverlets. She was shrinking back in the bed, pulling the sheet over her.
Cora slammed her fist into the guy's chin, and his head snapped back. He let out a howl of pain. She got the man's hands behind him and yanked his wrists together with a cable tie. That was what she and Gabe had brought along. At least a supply of those was available from any hardware store. They were easier to come by in Europe, legitimately, than guns were.
Working quickly, she cable-tied him to the bedpost.
"Get dressed, go downstairs," she told the woman. "This is over, now."
On to the next room and more of the same, except that this customer came out fighting.
He was a big man with a shaved head and a thick beard. He charged Cora, fists swinging, but she was ready for him. She didn't have time for knuckleheads who paid money to abuse trafficked women and then tried to use force to get out of the consequences.
She dodged his punches, twisting aside to avoid his right fist, slamming his left arm out of the way with her forearm, and landed a solid kick to his stomach. He doubled over, choking and coughing, and she followed up with a quick uppercut that sent him reeling back into the wall. He slid down to the floor, groaning in agony.
On with the cable ties. Fastened him to the bed. The same gentle command to the woman in the bed. "Get dressed. Downstairs."
No sign of Rose yet, so Cora forged on to the next room.
There was no customer in here, just a woman who looked to have been deeply asleep and was now struggling awake. She had a fading bruise above her eye.
A shout from outside the room, and the loud thudding of footsteps, told Cora that there was still more 'management' in this building to be dealt with. She turned and rushed out to find Gabe in a fight with a man who looked like he could be the bouncer's brother. They have the same build, the same features, same aggression.
Same slowness. His fists were like battering rams, but the guy wasn't fast, and as she watched, she saw Gabe read him, grab his wrist, and twist sharply down.
The man howled in pain, stumbling forward as Gabe drove his elbow into the back of his neck, sending him crashing to the floor.For good measure, Cora kicked him in the head before wrenching the cable ties tightly around his wrists.
She and Gabe locked eyes for a moment, and Cora saw something she hadn't seen before. A raw, barely contained rage that simmered just beneath the surface of Gabe's stoic exterior.
There were reasons for it. Deep reasons. After all, Rose was in a place like this because of Buddy Finch, if you traced her history back and looked at cause and effect and where things had started to go wrong. She thought Gabe felt bad about this. He felt guilty and mad at his father, at the evil in his psyche, at the very fact he was associated with such a man.
But there was no time for that now. They had to find Rose. They had to get her out of this hellhole. And they had to get themselves out, too, before the police came. Cora didn't think they would hurry to a place like this. Presumably, there were certain payoffs in place that ensured some privacy. But ultimately, they would get here, and by then, she and Gabe had to be gone.
Up the stairs, they went, with Cora leading the way to the top floor. The sounds of violence and chaos, the slamming of furniture, and the screaming of voices grew louder with each step. They burst into another room, and Cora felt her stomach lurch at the sight before her.
