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Authors: Marissa Farrar

BOOK: Denied
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Twelve

 

 

 

 

 

A touch on
her hand made her jump.

“Everything all right?” Cameron asked.

She gave her head a slight shake to bring herself out of her reverie. “Yes, sorry. I just remembered something.”

“Anything important?”

“No. Well, yes, but nothing you need to know about.”

“You don’t have to shut down on me all the time, Lily,” he said, his expression pained. “I wish you’d trust me with something. You’d feel better if you talked about it.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no chance talking will make me feel any better.”

Cameron sighed and started up the car. They pulled out of the roadside café’s parking lot, Lily casting a glance at the Lexus as they went. No one else had approached the other vehicle.

Her thoughts went back to those last moments with Monster. The drugs that had been given to her via an IV must have blocked out that particular memory until now. What did it mean? “I love you,” he’d said, “and I only want you to be safe.” So she’d been right in thinking Monster had done what he had because he still cared about her. Did she allow herself that little bit of hope, or did that make her insane to be wanting to care about a man who had allowed someone else to drug her and have her moved to another country?

They rode in silence, and she sensed the tension radiating from Cameron. He’d given up teasing and questioning her, but concentrated on driving instead, his expression stony. She guessed he was regretting giving her a ride now, but even though it made her feel like a complete bitch, she couldn’t allow that to distract her. She’d warned him not to come along.

After another forty-five minutes, they entered a small town. The place had an industrial atmosphere, though it was also coastal. Tall, chain-link fences, topped with barbed wire, appeared to surround everything—including what appeared to be completely empty lots—and scraggly palm trees dotted the wide, barren streets and coastline. The buildings were plain and rectangular, painted cream with red roofs. Everything had a temporary feel to it, as though it had sprung up, not expecting to still be around this long.

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “What is this place?”

“A Marine Corps base, I think.”

Her heart had increased its pace, pattering in her chest. “Do you think there might be an airfield nearby?”

“I guess so. If they’re military, you’d think they would.”

It was crazy. Surely Cigarette Hands and his crew weren’t trafficking women from a Marine base? Might they even be Marines, or perhaps had been once upon a time and so knew their way around this area? She couldn’t imagine the whole camp being used at once. Perhaps a part of it had been abandoned and closed off.

She felt sick with nerves. While the prospect of finding them this morning had filled her with a righteous anger, now she was terrified.

Cameron looked at her curiously. “I take it we might have found the thing you were looking for?”

“I’m not completely certain yet, but it’s definitely a possibility.”

“You want me to pull over?”

“Yeah. Go for it.”

Though the area must originally have been a temporary Marine base, a whole town had sprung up around it. The place was sparse, dry, and dusty—a convenience store, a gas station, and a handful of takeout places staggered along the main street.

They went to the gates leading on to the Marine base. Armed men checked who entered and left. Lily had no plans of entering, of course. She didn’t think where she’d been kept was on the base, but possibly was located in the same area or another part of town. There was something else she needed to know.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

The young Marine looked at her curiously. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you know if there’s an airport around here?”

He frowned slightly. “Not an airport as such, ma’am, but there is a private airfield about three miles east out of town.”

“Thank you. One more question? Are there any big shipping containers around here?”

“Shipping containers?”

“Yeah, you know, big metal containers that are used to transport things on ships.”

“Not that I’ve come across, but if you keep heading north out of town and then take the first exit, there used to be a port where the base brought supplies in and out of town. It’s been shut down a decade or more, though, and I’m pretty sure it’s all locked up. I don’t know what you think you’d find there.”

She gave her head a slight shake and threw him her brightest smile. “Oh, nothing. I came here years ago as a kid with my parents, and I had a memory of some of the places they took me, but I wasn’t totally sure if I’d remembered them or imagined them. You ever do that?”

The young man gave her that same baffled look. “Why don’t you just ask your folks?”

“They died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry. It would be a strange place to take a kid sightseeing, though. Was your dad in the Marines?”

“Oh, no. But, hey, thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

She turned around and caught Cameron by the arm, hurrying him away. “Let’s go back to the car.”

He wore the same confused expression as the Marine. “What’s going on?”

“Please, let’s just go.”

She climbed back in the passenger seat and put her head in her hands. Now what the hell should she do? Did she go to the police and tell them she thought this might be the place without actually checking it out herself? What if she was wrong and all she succeeded in doing was making herself look like the big fat liar they seemed to think she was anyway? Or someone looking for attention and wasting police time? Something even worse occurred to her. What if there were girls inside one of those containers right now? What if she waited and those girls—or even one of those girls—was shipped or flown out of the country only hours before the police might have rescued her? Or perhaps Cigarette Hands had contacts in the police department who he was paying off, and they heard about her reporting the location and made a run for it before the legit cops could get there.

“God damn it!” she swore, slamming both fists against the dashboard. With horror, she realized tears were perilously close, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were of anger and frustration.

Cameron reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Hey, quit it. You’ve got to talk to me. What the hell is going on?”

“I didn’t want to get you involved.”

“But I am involved, aren’t I?” he said. “I got myself involved when I came and banged on your apartment door the other night and then called the police about you.”

It was true. She hadn’t asked him to do that.

“I think the traffickers who took me might be working out of the abandoned port the Marine was talking about,” she admitted, finally. “It fits all of the things I could remember about the place, including the fact I was put on a private plane not far from where they were keeping me.”

His eyes bugged wide. “We need to report this.”

“Yes, you’re right, but what if I’ve got this completely wrong? I could be looking in totally the wrong direction, for all I know. The police already think I’m a time-wasting liar.”

“I’m sure they don’t think that.”

She lifted her eyebrows at him.

“Okay, okay, but again, I played my part. How about we drive down to the port and take a look? We’ll keep our distance and not do anything stupid.”

She nodded, though she was trying to get a grip on her nerves. “Okay.”

What would she do if she saw Cigarette Hands, the man who had snatched her from her place of work and kept her locked up in a box, forced to piss where she sat? Her hatred for him ran deep. If she caught sight of him, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold herself back. The gun in her purse seemed to pulse like a beacon. If she saw him, sauntering around, knowing what he’d done to her, and worse to numerous women before her, she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop herself from shooting him there and then.

Cameron got the car moving, and they followed the road out of town.

“There,” she said, pointing to the turn-off.

He took it and they followed a narrow track away from the main town and road. A number of the same regimented structured buildings were abandoned, another chain-link fence and tall gate blocking off the area, but Lily looked past the gate and her heart stopped. In the distance, beyond the fence, stood a number of old shipping containers.

“Stop the car,” she said.

Cameron did as she asked, and she opened the door and climbed out. From what she could tell, no one was around.

Beyond the chain link fence, a ramp led from the concreted area down to the ocean, which slapped up against the walls of the abandoned port.

Vertigo suddenly swept through her, and she felt the ground move beneath her. The smell and sounds of the place made her feel as though she’d stepped back in time, the memory sweeping back over her so she experienced the trauma all over again. Despite the heat of the day, a cold sweat broke out across her skin, and the chill penetrated right down to her heart.

Could there be women inside one of those things, beaten and raped, and terrified for what their future held? She knew she couldn’t walk away without checking first.

Reaching back into the car, she pulled out her purse and removed the gun.

“You need to get out of here,” she told Cameron. “Drive back onto the main road and wait for me there.”

“No chance. I’m calling the cops.”

“No cops,” she said. “I’m planning on killing the son of a bitch who took me. If I don’t come back, you can call the police then.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “What happened to keeping back and not doing anything stupid?”

“Sorry, but I have to do this. Please, take the car and go.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Lily!”

She didn’t have the time or emotional energy to worry about whatever misplaced responsibility he felt for her. She wasn’t his problem, never had been. It had been wrong of her to get him as involved in all of this as she had.

“Fine, then, stay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you not to get involved.”

With her gun held by her side, Lily ran toward the gate.

 

 

Thirteen

 

 

 

 

 

Though her every
instinct told her to move quietly, she was sure Cigarette Hands would have heard the car pull up if he was here. She reached the gate and gave it a quick shake to see if it would open, the clanking of the metal horribly loud in the stillness. A big chain and padlock held the gate shut, but she knew there must be a way to get in.

She ran around the perimeter, keeping her eyes peeled. Cameron followed close behind. Cigarette Hands must have a key to the padlock, or he wouldn’t be able to get his car in and out of the premises, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t another way in. These kinds of places were often sought out by underage kids wanting somewhere to drink or smoke in peace, and often homeless people would find places like this where they could hang out undisturbed by the cops. She suspected Cigarette Hands would have scared off anyone like that, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t found a way to get in.

“There,” she said, noticing a part of the fence that had been cut. It had been pieced back together, but she bent down and pulled it open again, careful not to cut herself on any sharp bits. She got to her hands and knees and crawled through the gap, her gun still held in one hand. Cameron followed.

She counted the big metal shipping containers. There were at least twenty in two separate rows.

“You start that end,” she told Cameron. “I’ll go to the other end. I don’t think the traffickers are around, but call quietly to see if anyone is inside.”

“Inside the containers?” he asked in a kind of disbelieving horror.

She nodded. “Yes, that’s where they kept me and a number of other women. I don’t know if they’re even still using this location to traffic women, but I won’t leave here until I know there’s no one inside one of those things.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You can still walk away,” she told him.

He shook his head. “No. I’m with you on this.”

“Remember, the women will be frightened, possibly too scared to even speak, so listen out for anything else, even put your hands against the sides and see if it feels warmer in places, or …” she hated saying this, “… if any of them smell bad.”

He gave a brisk nod. “Got it.”

They separated, Lily running to one end while Cameron took the other.

She moved between the tall sides of the containers, pausing to place her hand against the warm metal, trying to get any sense if people were inside.

“Hello?” she called softly, rapping lightly on the side with her knuckles. “Is anyone in there?”

She paused to listen hard, hoping to catch the scuffle of feet moving, or the muffled sound of a sob, but none came. The women most likely wouldn’t call out for help, even if they knew someone was out here. They would have been warned against what would happen if they tried to get help. The women would either assume it was some kind of trick or would be terrified and frozen into silence.

Lily wasn’t going to give up when she was so close.

She moved to the next container, and repeated the process. She could hear Cameron at the other end of the port, calling out to people who might not even be there.

“Hello,” she called again. “I’m here to help you. Isn’t anyone there?”

Still nothing, and she moved out from between them to move on to the next row. She slipped between the sides, and realized the position she was in allowed her to see directly between two of the abandoned buildings beyond the chain link fence.

Lily froze, her eyes widening.

The black Lexus she’d thought had been following her was parked in the space between the two buildings. She was certain it was the same one. Her heart rate skyrocketed. As she turned to yell out a warning to Cameron, someone stepped into her peripheral vision. She swung around, the gun pointed, planning to shoot whoever it was, but they were too quick. A hand clamped over her mouth and something hit her forearm, sending pain shooting through her arm. Involuntarily, her fingers sprung open and the gun hit the concrete.

She heard a male cry in the distance.

Cameron!             

The hand moved and she opened her mouth to shout out to him again, but a ball of rags was shoved against her tongue, gagging her.

Something—a bag or a hood—was placed over her head, blocking her view, and her arms were yanked behind her back. The cool metal circles of handcuffs clipped around her wrists.

A male voice she didn’t recognize spoke. “You’re coming with me.”

She gave a whine of terror.

No, no, no.
  This couldn’t be happening again—it just couldn’t! She’d never survive the same thing twice. That she’d kept her sanity the first time had been nothing short of miraculous. The thought of Cigarette Hands touching her again made her want to shrivel up and die. She didn’t have Monster’s protection this time. He and his friend could do whatever he wanted to her. Lily realized her mistake. She should have given the gun to Cameron. She’d left him without protection, and she’d been too physically weak to do anything to protect herself. Regret filled her. She’d done everything wrong, and now Cameron would probably end up dead, and she’d end up in the life she’d only just avoided the first time around.

She was dragged backward, between the shipping containers. Just as she felt the gust of wind from the ocean, and she knew she’d been pulled out into the open, she heard the muffled clang of a hand hitting against metal, and the frightened cry of a woman.

Lily let out her own sob. She’d been right.

The women were here.

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