Page 24 of When Sinners Hate
“Was it something to do with Elias's death?” I look back at her. “I know he was killed. My father didn't know or care to share the details.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have all day, Abel!” gets shouted down the corridor.
A half–smile lifts my face at her cutting tone, and I turn sideways to make my way down the next hall of metal.
“You like her,” Alexia asks, catching up with me. “Carmen? You’ve never smiled like that for me.”
“I do. She has earned it. In varying ways.”
The grating sound of fingernails runs along the bars of a window as Alexia passes it. “You’ve fucked her.”
“Yes.”
“Still?”
I don’t answer, mainly because it’s none of her goddamn business who I fuck or when I fuck them. But no, not for a long time now. She was one of the few that interested me years ago. It was her vindictiveness that earned her my respect. She stood there in a room full of sex and men waiting to buy her, and then, once bought, she stabbed her new owner in the heart. Covered inblood, and perhaps waiting for her own death, she looked up at me and smiled. It intrigued me enough to give her a chance.
“How long has she worked for you?”
“Long enough to understand me."
We get to the room and turn into it, and I watch as Carmen opens up the back wall of doors. The truck gets reversed, and the haulage doors are opened to block off all exits other than straight into here. It’s the first look at the new intake either of us has had.
The dark confines of the truck move as the women shuffle and jostle inside.
“Most of these are already working girls. Some were picked up from the streets. Others were pulled out of raided houses and cells upstate,” Carmen says. “Come!” she shouts, waving them down. “You’re safe enough here.” For now, at least. “We have food and clean clothes.”
They slowly start emerging one by one and drop to the dusty floor. I look over each one as they make their way out, taking in their shape, looks, hair and features. All good enough, apart from one of them. And that’s nothing to do with what I’ve been examining.
“Line up,” I mutter, watching them hover around.
They do, barely looking at me. I move straight to the girl at the back, reaching for her face through the others. She squeals and tries backing away from me, so I grab tighter and stare down at her. “How old are you?” No answer. Just fear and trembling features.
The two new finders come in from the front of the truck, both of whom should have known better than to bring an adolescent into my space. I look at one of them, raising a brow for clarification.
“She was on the streets when we were travelling back.” He shrugs and looks at the other one for help. Help is gone now they’ve fucked this up.
“She’s underage,” I say, flicking her face away from me. Probably fourteen at a push, regardless of her curves. “You should both be able to see that. And now she's seen me.”
“Man, what does a few years matter?” he says, flustering words.
I move at him, pissed that he’d dare talk back about this, but just as I do, one of the other girls makes a run for the open door. I catch hold of her hair as she goes and push her straight to the ground. My boot goes over the back of her neck, crushed in hard to make sure she stays down. “I made it crystal fucking clear about the sixteen–year–old policy.”
He looks over the young one and sneers as the bitch under me struggles. “A whore’s a whore. And it's not like they've got identity cards on them. They’ve all got pussy between their legs.” Carmen moves backwards in my eyeline, pulling Alexia with her. “Just another profit, right? What's the fucking problem? You need to chill the fu–”
My gun is out and he’s shot straight in his forehead before he finishes his words. All the women scream and run in my periphery as the spray of blood sweeps back at me. I don’t move from it. I watch him drop like a stone, keep my pressure hard on the girl under me, and slowly look sideways at the other finder. We’re not that organisation. We might be cruel, and we might be savage, but kids get their chance at life before we make them rot. Maybe they get caught again a few years later, but until then, it’s my only hard limit on profit.
“Do you understand that?” I ask, tilting my head. “This is what happens when you contravene a direct order.” He backs up some steps, putting himself near Carmen and Alexia. I can’t make up my mind if it’s for defence or aggression, so wait fora move of some kind. Dante chooses that moment to come into the room, slight panic on his face considering the gunshot. He’s in front of Alexia before I even have to ask, pushing the guy back out into the centre of the space so he’s nowhere near her. Hate or not, he’ll do exactly what he needs to to protect what's mine unless I say different.
“Talk to me about giving you a second chance.”
Little fuck nods and looks back at the girls. “Fuck, man. I didn't…think. I don't know. I'll get it right next time.” He moves away from the women on his own, backing himself up to a wall and raising his hands. “The others are good, yeah? I got them all. Just don’t …”
I watch him swallow his fear, then wonder if he’s pissed himself yet. “No one under sixteen. Ever. Carmen?” She walks out towards me. “Get rid of her.”
There aren’t any words of response. She just walks for the girl and starts pulling her from the space. I keep square with the guy I’m thinking about trusting again, wondering if this was enough or if he needs more encouragement to follow the fucking rules successfully. He looks at the girls again, and something about that moment riles me. Fucking up and now looking at the merchandise?