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Chapter two
SAVANNAH, 12 YEARS LATER
Savannah huddled in the shadows, her breath fogging up in the cold night air. The Lucifer nightclub loomed before her, its neon red sign casting a sinister glow on the rain-slicked sidewalk. The air was thick with the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat. Mixed in was a hint of something more pungent, a sickly sweet odor that made Savannah's stomach churn.
She watched the eclectic mix of patrons drift in and out. Some wore leather jackets and chains, others were dressed in expensive suits, and some looked like they hadn't changed their clothes in days. Each person had a different expression on their face—some sneering and confident, others lost and desperate. Together, they created an unsettling sight, like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. Even so, each person exuded an air of intense hunger, as if they were all searching for something to fill the void within them.
Savannah couldn't help but feel like prey amongst predators, her heart pounding as she willed herself to remain invisible. She pulled her baggy black sweater tighter around herself. Unfortunately, her sweater had Winnie the Pooh on the front ofit. Not exactly an undercover outfit. But what could she do? She didn’t exactly own "creeping around in dark corners" clothes.
"Keep it together, Savvy," she muttered under her breath, putting her rebellious red hair behind her ears for the hundredth time. She scanned the crowd. Her eyes fell upon a man lingering near the entrance, his posture rigid and his gaze locked on the club's door.
Who was he? A bouncer? A drug pusher? A pimp? There was something off about him, that was for sure. He had a lean, wiry frame, as if he were a tightly wound spring waiting to be released. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings like a wolf examining its territory. A jagged scar traced its way across his cheek, a memento from a past altercation, no doubt.
Instantly, alarm bells went off in Savannah's mind. Her breath caught in her throat. This guy knew something. It was obvious.
Would tonight be the night? Was she finally going to expose the truth behind the Lucifer nightclub and the darkness that lurked within?
Her pulse quickened as she made her way through the throng of people, inching closer to the suspicious man. Pretending to be checking something on her phone, she adjusted her stance and leaned against a nearby wall, pushing buttons at random on her cell. With a casual flick of her hair, she glanced in Scarface’s direction.
"Hey," she called out, forcing a flirtatious smile. Not ideal, given the aforementioned Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt, but again: what could she do? "You been inside yet?” she asked. “I heard this place is wild."
Scarface eyed her warily, his lips curling into a tight, guarded grin. "Yeah, it's somethin' else, alright," he replied, his voice low and gravelly.
"Anything interesting happening in there?" Savannah asked, trying to sound nonchalant as she subtly probed for information. "I'm looking for a good time tonight."
His eyes narrowed slightly, tension creeping into his posture. "Just the usual. People drinkin', dancin', having fun." He paused, studying her face with newfound suspicion. "You lookin' for something . . . specific?"
"Nope," she shrugged, feigning innocence. "Just curious. I like to know what I'm getting myself into."
The man's gaze bore into her, his demeanor growing colder by the second. She felt his eyes run down over her baggy attire and then back up to her frizzy red hair. "Listen, Freckles," he hissed, leaning in close. "I don't know what you're lookin' for, but I suggest you stop snooping around. You're attracting the wrong kind of attention." He sneered at her and then spat on the ground. “And you don’t exactly look like the right clientèle for this place.”
Savannah swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure as fear blossomed in her chest. She had clearly struck a nerve. Her instincts screamed at her to run away, but she couldn't afford to back down now—not when it felt like she might be getting somewhere.
"Sorry if I said the wrong thing," she said lightly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "I’m just new in town and looking for some fun."
Upon hearing that word, “fun”, Scarface’s expression changed. “You want some fun, Freckles? You wanna come over here and suck my dick?”
Savannah’s eyes widened as she put her phone back in her pocket. “Oh, uh, no thank you, sir. I’ll just get back in line, and uh . . .”
As Savannah slipped back into the shadows, her mind raced with possibilities. Was this man part of the trafficking ring, orwas he simply a dangerous distraction? Did he suspect her of snooping? How could she get the information she needed? One thing was clear: she needed to tread carefully if she wanted to survive long enough to find out.
Think, Savvy. Think.
Savannah’s heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the pulsating beat of the music coming from the club.
"Wait just a damn minute," the man growled, lunging forward to grab her arm before she could slip away. His fingers dug into her flesh like a vise, his grip unyielding. “I’ve seen you here before, ain’t I? Standing around by the door asking questions. You’re up to somethin’.”
"Let go of me," she snapped, panic rising in her chest like a tidal wave.
"You think I don't know what you're up to, Freckles?" he snarled, yanking her closer.
Savannah's mind raced, searching for an escape. She couldn't let him stop her, not now. Not when she was so close. Gritting her teeth, she channeled every ounce of strength she had into her free arm, swinging it with all her might at his face.
"Leave me alone!" she shouted, her fist connecting with his jaw. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through her hand, but it was enough to loosen his grip.
In that split second, adrenaline surged through her veins, granting her the strength to tear herself away from him. But as she stumbled back, her hidden camera fell from its hiding place inside her sweatshirt and clattered to the ground.
"Look what we got here," the man said, bending down to pick up the small device. He held it up, examining it with malicious curiosity. Then, he looked at Savannah’s sweatshirt. Before leaving home tonight, she had carefully cut out Winnie the Pooh’s nose and poked a secret camera out of it. Now thecamera was gone, Winnie the Pooh had a hole in his face and the bare flesh of her stomach showed behind it.
