Scarred Regrets (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 5)

26

IRINA

I’d thought I understood.

I’d thought I had seen the worst of humanity, the evidence of crimes that could never be forgiven. I’d thought I could make a difference.

I was wrong.

The press of bodies against me, the smell of sweat dripping off the women who were crammed too tightly together, mixed with the stink of the buckets in the corner, used for waste.

So many women and children were crammed in here with me, their bodies naked as the day they were born and discolored with bruises of all kinds. There was nothing but silence as they huddled on the concrete floor, curling their legs into their bodies because there just wasn’t enough room to extend them out.

With no light, I could only see the ones closest to me well, but I counted the bodies hidden by the shadows. I counted each head, until the number horrified me.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-eight women and girls stolen from their homes or off the street, stripped of all their belongings. Stripped of themselves.

Shoved into a basement to rot while they waited for wherever they would be taken. While they waited for their buyers to come.

I sat on the floor among them, the clothing on my body feeling like a betrayal in and of itself. I had something they didn’t, but none of them cared. None of them seemed bothered by their nudity, and I had to pause for a few moments to wonder.

How long have they been here?

Tears stung my eyes when the teenage girl next to me leaned her head on my shoulder. Her blond hair was matted with grease and dust, her face stained with smudges of dirt. I stared at her face, her innocent brown eyes looking back at me. They were wide with fear, her arms wrapped around her petite body with bones that seemed to protrude.

“What’s your name?” I asked, the whisper of my voice seeming to crack through the silent room. The guards watching over us all waited outside the closed door at the other side, but nobody so much as flinched.

“Madison,” she mumbled, leaning her forehead on my shoulder. The silk of my blouse rubbed against her skin, wiping some of the dirt from it.

“I’m Irina, honey,” I murmured, laying the side of my head over hers. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” she said, making me squeeze my eyes closed. “There are others...younger ones,” she added, her voice cracking.

“Okay,” I said, forcing the words to not sound strangled. “We’re going to get out of here.” I didn’t know how, didn’t know what it would entail, but I would take every last one of them with me when I left.

All of them.

“We never get out,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “Not until they come to take us away.”

“Until who comes?” I asked. One of the other women shushed me, her gaze panicked as she met my eyes.

“The man who sells them,” Madison answered, shrugging her shoulders in a tiny movement that seemed to communicate just how exhausted she was.

The door at the other end of the room opened, a handful of men stepping inside. “Is that him?” I whispered, watching as she shook her head but seemed to cower behind me. The men walked through the narrow spaces between rows of prisoners as light filled the room through the open door.

They didn’t care that they stepped on toes as they moved, staring down at the women and girls who made themselves as small as possible.

The first man reached down, grabbing one of the women by her hair and hauling her to her feet. She screamed, her hands flying up to pull his grip away from the dirty locks of hair. “Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, wrapping his hand around the front of her throat.

He lifted her from her feet, carrying her toward the door while she kicked and gasped for breath.

“Where is he taking her?” I demanded, making to get to my feet.

“Don’t,” Madison protested, placing her hand on my arm to stop me. “They’ll take you instead if you interfere.” She sobbed, clinging to me like a life raft in an ugly world that had betrayed her so much for such a young age. With her hysterical tears drenching my skin, I watched the man disappear from the room in the basement with the screaming woman, and I hated myself.

The next man did the same, taking his pick and pulling her from the room. She didn’t struggle, going peacefully as he led her away. From the dejection in the room, the way they all hid their faces and their bodies as much as possible; there was only one place they could be going.

I wanted to puke. My precious few bites of chia pudding churned in my stomach, gagging me at the thought of what all these women had already suffered. Of what they would continue to suffer if I didn’t do something.

The last of the men stopped in front of me, icy blue eyes staring down at the glare I gave him. He couldn’t touch me, couldn’t take what I didn’t give, not with Tiernan’s warning to him hanging between us.

Immunity made me braver than I should have been, bolstering me into holding his stare and lifting my chin. Madison cowered at my side, the tremble in her body drawing Darragh’s assessing stare. He slid his eyes over her body, glancing to where she huddled into my side for protection.

“I see you’ve made a friend, Wildcat,” he purred, reaching out a hand to stroke my cheek with his thumb. I swallowed, the horrible realization of his intent washing over me. His hand left my face, darting the short distance to grab her by the arm and haul her to her feet.

Madison screamed, the shrill sound echoing through the silent room while the others watched.

I kicked, my foot connecting with the space between Darragh’s legs so hard that he wheezed. Bending over and releasing Madison, he grabbed the junk that I hoped I’d shoved so far inside his body he would never find it again.

Lunging to my feet in his moment of weakness, I used my good arm to shove Madison behind me. Standing between the two of them, I hesitated for only a moment before I moved forward and kneed Darragh in the face.

His nose gushed with blood, the red stain covering my bare skin and the cream pencil skirt I’d put on to get ready for work. “Fucking bitch!” he yelled, and the guards at the door turned to watch the altercation as Darragh straightened to full height.

He seemed unconcerned with the blood streaming down his face, covering his mouth, and staining his teeth a macabre color that I would see every day in my nightmares. “Not her,” I said, holding my head high as I said the command.

Darragh tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes on me as he considered the words. Then he laughed, the menacing sound setting all the hairs on my arms on end. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck her until she bleeds,” he growled.

His fist connected with my ribs, the impact on the already sore area stealing the breath from my lungs. I leaned forward, my hand pressing against my torso like my organs might fall out, as sharp pain exploded through my body with a resounding crack.

I was too distracted to see the fist that came for the side of my face, making my vision spin with stars. I groaned, somehow staying up to be a barrier between him and the girl he would hurt.

The one he would break in my place.

“How long will it take for you to learn to shut your fucking mouth?” he asked, a left hook striking against the other side of my face. I swallowed back the surge of nausea as I fell to my knees. The concrete scraped them open, the sting nothing compared to the pounding in my head.

But I stood, stumbling to my feet as the woman on the other side of me offered her hand. She took a boot to the shin for it, her muffled squeak of pain resounding through my soul.

Darragh’s boot slammed down against the top of my knee. Something in my leg popped, a scream tearing free from my lips as I went down. My palm and the side of my head struck the concrete, the skin splitting open as my leg exploded in pain.

It felt like I was being torn in two. Like half of my leg was gone.

I gritted my teeth, pushing up with my hand and trying to stand as Darragh grabbed Madison from behind me. My leg gave out, refusing to support my weight, and I fell to the concrete in a heap. He kicked me in the face as Madison fought him, screaming and reaching for me where I lay in a puddle on the ground.

Darragh’s blood.

Or is it mine?

“Not so fucking pretty now, Princess,” he laughed, lifting Madison off her feet. His hands touched her breasts as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and I shook off the pain long enough to push myself up to sit.

They were nearly out of the room by the time I managed to rise up onto my trembling knee that felt like fire in my veins, rasping, “Take me instead.”

The quiet words echoed through the room. I felt all eyes turn in my direction, watched the moment Darragh froze and slowly turned to look back at me in disbelief. He shoved Madison to the side, watching in amusement as she raced through the crowd to come and stand beside me.

She took my weight, touching trembling fingers to the wound on top of my knee and the blood rushing from it.

To the bump protruding from the side instead of the front.

“No,” she said.

I nodded, tapping the top of her head with a gentle hand as Darragh turned to his buddies standing guard. “Does it count as rape if she volunteers?”

He smirked, closing the distance between us and grabbing me by the broken arm. Pain exploded through it, blinding me as he dragged me forward that first step.

My leg gave out, collapsing beneath me, but still he walked.

“Nobody touches the girl,” he ordered, nodding his head back toward where Madison watched with her body wracked by sobs.

He took the stairs, dragging me up them so that my abused body banged into each and every one as we ascended back into the light of day.

I almost wished we hadn’t, that we’d stayed submerged in the basement.

Some things were better left in the dark.