Behind The Gun

Chapter 8

"It's parked on a dirt road off of the main highway, there's nothing there for miles. My guess is, they changed cars." Jerry sighs, sitting back in the chair with a disappointed look on his face.

"Or that's what they want us to think." Kirk murmurs, looking at me with nothing but realisation on his face. "Savannah said she couldn't see anything but fields from her window. What if something has now been built off of that dirt road."

It's plausible. It seems like the perfect spot to build a prostitution ring, easily accessible and an easy getaway in case they ever get busted.

"Can you find out who owns that land?" I ask Jerry, feeling my own hope rise.

"Uh..." He murmurs as he hacks into yet another database of the FBI. It seems like he's done this thousands of times. "Its owned by Mendez Construction." He tells us.

"As in The Mendez Brothers?" I ask, looking at Kirk for verification.

The Mendez Brothers run a very small gang, around thirty members, but they're very rich, so they have a lot of power. Even if we shut the place down, they would probably get off scot free.

"We've got her." Kirk mumbles with a small smile.

Savannah

I'm dying. I'm actually dying.

What the hell did Maddox give me last night? I can't remember anything after leaving my room. The whole night is a big blur, leaving me with nothing more than a pounding head and money spilling out of my bra. Oh God. What did I have to do to earn this money. Just as I get the last of the money from my bra, which is more than I'd earn in a week at Lenny's, dropping it all onto the floor, Rogue comes into my room. He smiles widely when he sees all of the money on the floor, bending down to scoop it up instantly. My skirt and shoes from last night sit on the floor next to his feet.

"You did good last night." He praises me while counting up the money, giving a satisfied smile then shoving it into his pocket. "Go make breakfast. A glass of orange juice is in the kitchen for you."

I'm only too eager to get down to the kitchen from his words. A Tylenol would be nice with it but I know there's no was I'll be given one of those. My body aches as I walk down to the kitchen. It feels like I've done hours of exercise the day before and now I'm feeling the after effects.

Imogen is already in the kitchen when I get there, flipping a pancake while a large stack of them already sits on a plate next to the stove. How long ago did they get her out of bed? An empty glass sits next to the glass of orange juice that I assume is mine. Imogen looks just as rough as I feel.

When I approach her, she picks up the orange juice and holds it out without looking at me. I take it silently, finishing it off in three large gulps. It had gotten a little warm but it was good enough to soothe my sore throat.

"What do you think they gave us?" I whisper to her as I start to compile pancake toppings, putting fresh fruit into little bowls.

"No idea. I can't remember anything from last night." She says in a hoarse voice, sounding like she's been crying. Did someone hurt her? Maybe she's just scared. I know I was when I first woke up this morning. Not remembering what you did the night before to be given a lot of money is a scary thing. At least I can tell I didn't sleep with anyone. I don't know if Imogen has that privilege.

"Me neither." I whisper back, not wanting to question her about it in case it upsets her. I know I have no desire to talk about it.

As we're placing the breakfast onto the table, the remainder of the men pile in, taking their seats around the table. I'm just about to step away when a hand lands onto my butt, squeezing it roughly. I whirl around instantly, slapping the hand away with a furious expression.

The man looks just as angry as I feel when he climbs to his feet, glowering down at me. I'm about to take a step back, when he takes a hold of my shoulder roughly. I don't hesitate in taking a hold of his wrist, placing my other hand just above his elbow and pushing as hard as I can. His body lurches forward as he lets out a groan of pain.

"Do not touch me." I push out between my teeth, not relenting on my hold on him.

There's a noise behind me before a hand wraps around my hair, pulling me back sharply, causing me to drop my hold on the guy. I let out a small scream as the guy holding my hair pulls my hands behind my back, holding me in place.

"I think she needs to be taught a lesson." He says to the first guy, causing me to struggle against his hold. The first guy steps towards me, his face practically glowing with anger.

The first punch lands on my stomach, knocking the breath out of me. I gasp loudly, trying to get oxygen back into my body before the next punch lands on my cheek, snapping my head back. Another punch hits my ribs in just the right spot to hit my previously injured ones. Pain radiates through my chest, once again, a familiar pain, but it feels a little more severe this time. The last thing I see is a punch angling towards my temple before I'm knocked out cold.

I wake with a gasp, my head spinning as I sit up in my bed, but I'm not alone. The guy that beat me unconscious is stood next to my bed, smirking down at me while holding a syringe in his hand. Before I get a chance to jump away from him, he jabs the syringe into my arm, pushing the liquid into my body.

Within seconds, I begin to feel drowsy. My whole body feels heavy as I drop back onto the bed. My brain feels like it wants to go to sleep but my body won't allow it. All I can do is lie motionless while the guy sits on the edge of the bed, smirking down at me.

"Don't worry," he whispers as he trails his hand along my thigh. "I won't be too rough." He finishes with a wicked smile, his hand moving onto my stomach, skimming over it lightly.

"No." Is all I can whisper as his hand tucks behind my back, his fingers trailing along my spine before stopping at the clasp of my bra. "Please." I beg quietly, not having the ability to raise my voice to a scream. He unclasps my bra with one hand while the other runs along my thigh, grabbing onto it and pulling my legs apart.

"Well, aren't these girls beautiful." He murmurs in a disgustingly appreciative voice once he's removed my bra, dropping it on the floor next to the bed. The feeling of not being able to fight back, to push him away, is the worst feeling in the world. All I can do is lay here and watch while he takes advantage of me, pleading quietly for him to stop. "You're wearing too much." He says as his eyes move to my underwear. Just as he's about to reach for them, the door behind him slams open, a shout leaving the persons mouth as they pull this guy off of the bed.