I’m a failure. I failed all of them. Even as angry as I am, I feel guilty when I look toward Cara’s cage and relief washes over me at the sight of the lock in place on her door. My concern needs to be equal among all of them, yet I know the scales are tipped in Cara’s favor, and that’s fucked up.
“He hit me over the head,” Angel explains. “Took the keys.”
“Get him on his knees.”
Angel shifts, pulling his knee from Juan’s neck. I wonder how long they were fighting down here before Angel got the upper hand. Angel has a cut on his forehead, but that could be from the blow that allowed Juan to get the keys. Juan, on the other hand, looks like he’s been beaten with a baseball bat. One eye is already swelling shut and his right arm is hanging at his side at an awkward angle.
I take a handful of his hair, pulling it back so I can glare into his eyes. His lip is busted, cheek swelling around a gash there.
“You think you have a right to come down here and touch my women?”
The question makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t own them, but as far as they know, they’re possessions.
Juan looks up at me, a sinister smile on his lips, teeth coated in blood from the beating Angel gave him.
“You don’t get to touch what’s mine,” I growl, my fist connecting with his injured cheek hard enough to nearly knock him over.
A low chuckle erupts from his chest. “Whores are meant to be fucked.”
My vision narrows, red filling the empty space around his face.
I don’t even feel the weight of the gun as I pull it from my waistband and press it to his forehead. My ears don’t register the sounds of the women crying, of Megan whimpering. The only thing I’m aware of is the lack of fear in Juan’s eyes. I don’t know if he isn’t afraid because he’s psychotic and isn’t scared to die or if he doesn’t believe I’ll pull the trigger.
“Boss,” Miguel, the other guy Angel brought on with him says. “That’s not a good idea. He’s—”
The echo of the shot rings out around us, the sound too loud and deafening in the enclosed space. No other sound exists but Juan’s body crumpling to the ground, his blood spilling in a wave around his head. I swallow, feeling vindicated in what I’ve done, getting that same sense of justification I’ve gotten every time I pulled the trigger while working for Cerberus. Juan may be a low man on the totem pole as far as things go with trafficked women, but at least it’s one less piece of shit walking the earth.
My eyes drift to Angel. All he does is give me a quick nod, like this is the exact outcome he was hoping for.
“Clean this mess up, and make sure every person in this house knows that these women are off-limits,” I snap.
“But you get to fuck them?” Miguel snaps.
I reangle my gun in his direction, and even though there is rage in his eyes—I did just kill his friend after all—he holds his hands up near his ears in surrender.
I should just walk out of here. I’ve done what was needed to be done. There’s no reason for me to look across the room. I reason that I’m checking on the other women, but my eyes only fall on one in particular.
The sounds of the room come back to me, and I don’t know if the women are crying because Megan was assaulted or because they just witnessed me killing a man. Hell, it’s probably a combination of the two.
But Cara isn’t crying. Her cheeks are red, and her eyes are a little swollen, telling me that she was recently upset, but when her eyes find mine, they’re no longer wet.
Maybe it’s hope and I’m just imagining things, but it feels like something passes between us. Maybe it’s an unspoken promise that I’ll protect her. Maybe she’s foolish enough to believe it despite Juan being able to get his hands on Megan.
I shoulder check Miguel on my way out to further my point, but I wouldn’t put it past that man to put a bullet in my head before the sun comes up tomorrow.
I head straight back to the office and pull up the camera feed, watching with satisfaction as Angel lets Lauren out of her cage to help get Megan to the shower. Miguel is left to drag his dead friend from the room and clean up the blood, something he struggles with considering how steep the basement stairs are.
I’m left wondering if I shouldn’t put a bullet in all their heads. I was thinking Angel wasn’t as happy about being involved in all of this but then something like this happens. He brought that piece of shit on board, supposedly vetted him, and made sure he was a good fit. He was clearly mistaken, and I’m so pissed about what has happened, I want to keep the rampage going. I want to drop them all and take the women and get the fuck out of here.