“Lamb.” The girl turns to look at her jailor—it’s mental at this point, I have no doubts—and he nods in Kincaid’s direction just as he gives her the keys.
One click and K-bird is free, not that she rejoices in that too much. Instead, she shows humility and gratefulness.
“Thank you, that’s so much better.” Rubbing her wrists together because I know for a fact, no matter how tight or loose, wearing these fuckers for this long is painful as fuck, Kincaid smiles at the dumbass. In any action movie, he’d be the first insignificant character to die.
At least he had a speaking role.
Grabbing the glass, Kincaid brings it to my mouth and I do what I can to not drink it all in one go. I need to hydrate and gulping it down won’t do shit for my thirst. Once we’ve had a few sips, she takes the white bread sandwich and holds it up to my mouth.
Cardboard, that’s the only word that describes the paste in my mouth. It isn’t the bread’s fault, this is all on me and my disinterest in eating at a time like this.
The crackle of a radio has me freezing mid chew.
“Get up here, we need extra hands.” Dude looks around again, as if taking matters into his own hands is a foreign concept.
“Sit down, lamb, and make sure they don’t do anything stupid.” The girl does as she’s told and sits opposite the cell bars, hands folded on her lap, head down. “Good girl.”
At his words, I want to slit his throat. Those two words should only be used as positive reinforcement in safe circumstances. Neither of those things apply here because the girl is neither safe nor is she getting anything positive out of this. It’s a not-so-veiled threat and everyone knows it.
Once the guy is out of sight and hopefully out of hearing range, Kincaid wraps her fingers around the bars and speaks to the girl.
“Hey, are you okay?” She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even move. “Are there cameras in this cell or where you are?” Again, no response. At least not right away.
The only reason I know she answers is because my eyes are trained right on her. It’s faint and it’s discreet but she gives her head a short and sharp shake.
“We can save you,” Kincaid whispers, and the girl’s head snaps up for a brief second, holding Kincaid’s stare before lowering it once more. “I promise you, we’ll take you with us if you could just give us the keys to the cell.”
Fear is written all over the girl’s features, etched in every line and burning in her eyes like flames of destruction. She wantsto help, she wants to escape, but she’s too afraid. I’m certain that the courage she has deep in her gut is the reason for her decorated mouth. Punishment for talking back is my guess.
The handle turns and we go back to our earlier positions. There’s no fucking way we’re putting this poor kid’s life in even more danger. She’s suffered enough.
When the door swings open, the first guy comes back in, but he’s not alone.
Behind him is Viktor, and shackled like a fucking servant, is Mia. She’s no longer dressed in jeans and a crop top. No longer crying. To my horror, she’s dressed exactly like the other girl and I wish that were the reason my stomach bottoms out and my heart breaks into a million pieces.
Mia’s long black hair is shaved, her face is blotchy from hours and possibly days of crying. Her hands are scratched up as well as any visible part of her neck and face. One of her eyes is shut and swollen, the black circle wide enough to include her cheek, whereas her lid is bright red.
“Mia?” I say her name like a prayer, a plea for forgiveness.I’m sorry, Mia. I’m so fucking sorry.
“She won’t respond to Mia. She’s a lamb now. She’ll need more training, of course, but she’ll get there soon enough. Once she’s ready, she’ll marry, and by the way the members appreciated her form, I’m thinking she’ll have plenty of worthy suitors.” As he speaks, Viktor brings his index finger to Mia’s chin, and to her credit, she doesn't even flinch. “Maybe I’ll even take her for myself. We examined her and she’s still a virgin, therefore suited for me.”
Movement in my periphery tells me the girl has shifted in her seat. I don’t know why, but I can guess. Her body is remembering the cruelty of this man.
“I’ll fucking kill you myself if you touch her.” I speak through gritted teeth, spit flying across the space like a threat to his life.
“You’ll do no such thing.” Then he turns to Mia and smiles like a fucking creep. “Lamb, darling. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be punished for your brother’s insubordination.”
No. No, no, no.
The shackles around her feet are linked to a chain that leads to the shackles around her wrist. AR-15 guy places his gun on the table before busying himself with Mia’s cuffs, snapping them closed on the chains suspended on the walls in front of us.
I hadn’t even seen those, but once I do, I notice them all around the cell and the hallway.
“You see, Mr. Russet, I tried to negotiate with you but you refused to trade your sister for your girlfriend. In my world, that’s unacceptable. Family, after all, is always most important.” With every word he says, my mind is conjuring all the ways I’m going to skin him alive.
Not to mention the hypocrisy and gall of this asshole, the same guy who ran the other night, leaving his daughter in our clutches.
The other guy walks away and as Viktor is lifting Mia’s dress all the way up and covering her shaved head with it, I see the lashings on her back. They’re red and swollen, some are even bleeding and most will leave scars.