“Roger, she’s clear,” I growled down the little black box, keeping my eyes locked on the little girl whose body relaxed instantly. She looked to be around five or six, there was no reason for me to take her out too. I was glad it was me that was sent on this mission, not one of the others. They would have taken her out too. Hella included.
Turning in my steps, I ran out the way I came, the mushy mess under my heavy boots sloshing under each footstep leaving behind a room full of dead men who didn’t know how to pay their gambling debt.
With my heart pounding against my chest, my skin prickled and dripped with sweat, I launched myself off the bed. “Another memory,” I whispered to myself, realization setting in that maybe I wasn’t such a heartless prick when it came to kids. Clutching the sheet around my waist, I threw my legs off the bed and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of water before making my way back to bed. Fixing my eyes on the ceiling as I laid on my back, I glanced at the alarm clock that was sitting on the old bedside table, noting the time. Four in the morning, fucking great. Slowly closing my eyes, I snapped them open again when I heard the sound of a bed bumping up against a wall. My eyebrows creased as I looked toward where the sound was coming from, noticing it was where the screams filtered through from earlier. There were no screams this time. The sound of springs squeaking from a mattress pierced through and a headboard banging up against the wall in a continuous momentum. I don’t know why, but my stomach churned. We were never to have sex in The Army, but we did. The Chiefs would get escorts in, to scratch their itch so Hella and I would go dipping. The girls were nice girls, not the usual type you’d expect in escorts.
The sounds stopped, so I turned over and shut my eyes, thinking about all the revelations that had come to the surface over the past twenty-four hours.
Over the next two weeks, the same screams would vibrate through into my room. I’d seen the girl twice since I’d been here, she lived with her dad and I’m almost one hundred percent certain that that sick fuck was abusing her. It was none of my business, but no-one deserves to be treated like that. I don’t know why, but the need to save her intensified daily. I’d been recording her cries. They came in the middle of the night, so I was almost sure that she was asleep. I had been keeping in contact with Luce and Hella, told them I couldn’t come back yet, saying I needed space. Only that was a lie. I knew that I wanted to be a part of my dad’s club and I wanted to get to know him. But I was not leaving anywhere until I saved that young, lost girl.
Opening up the door, I closed it behind myself, pulling the lock over and placing the key in my jean’s pocket. I began walking down the wooden rundown stairs until I hit the front doors. Pushing them open, I made my way to my bike which was parked on the sidewalk. A few little teenagers admired it approvingly under their cheap bottles of clear liquor and a strong smell of ganja. I swung my leg over, kick-starting her to life, the deep rumble vibrating underneath me where the boys stood staring in appreciation. I smirked at them before flooring it out of there. I needed to set a plan up to get Jada back.
When I arrived back to the apartment, the cold night of the day had set, showing a dim glimmer of orange glowing over us. I called Luce and Hella today, sorted out a house to set up so I could get Jada out. As it turned out, they had a few houses on the clubhouse property and she could stay in one of those. It’d be a risky operation getting her out, but there was no way that I was leaving her there. Double stepping up the wooden stairs, I was passing the door next to mine when I noticed it was ajar. Pausing on my steps, my chest heavy, my throat tight, I brought my eyes up to the door, peering in through the crack. When it finally registered what was happening, a hot rush of lava flowed through me and a boiling burn began to steam under my skin. Raising my steel boot to the door, I kicked it open, barging inside with one man in my line of fire. Grasping his collar and pulling him off her, I threw him onto the floor.
“Who the fuck—” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because my fist was connecting with his mouth at rapid speed. Blow after blow, I put all my weight into every blow that came from me, pouring all the nights that I heard this girl scream into my assault.
“Stop,” the softness of her voice broke through the violence like a dove flying through a thunderous night.
My chest heaved with heaviness, weighed down with the suspicions of what this girl may have been through.
“I’ve been watching you,” I began, rubbing my blood-ridden hand over my face. “For the last two weeks, I’ve heard your screams through these walls. How long has he been doing this?” I asked, voice strained, and using all my will power not to just end him right here. The urge to slice this man into two was coming drastically close to snapping.