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I don’t deserve to be out here doing nothing while they’re all being tormented inside that house of horrors.
“Okay... I’ll help.” Lifting my gaze to meet Lya’s, I quickly wipe away the single tear rolling down my cheek. “What do you need me to do?” I try to sound brave, but I can hear my voice cracking. My palms are sweaty and my hands are shaky, so I move them under my legs and sit on them, trying not to give away how nervous this makes me. I wish I could be the girl who has all that confidence, but right now, in front of them, it’s hard to put on that mask. I used to be able to wear that fearlessness like it was nothing, but nine years of torment from Harvey destroyed that.
“First, we need you to tell us more about everything Harvey did, everything he has—essentially everything you saw or heard, we need to know about. How many girls are there? Are there multiple locations? How does Sutton get the girls there? Who does he work with?” Lya rattles off, causing my head to feel fuzzy from the overload.
“Lya, how about we take it one question at a time? This is a lot for Lainey to take in,” Zep says, as he reaches for her hand, giving it a squeeze. His deep gravelly voice is actually soothing for once. He looks over to me. “Lainey, do you know how he gets the girls there?” His tone is calm, almost endearing, obviously taking in how hard this is for me.
“When I was... sold, I was placed with four other girls in the back of a van. We were bought at a warehouse where two men picked us up at the location, then transported us to a wooded property. When we got there, we were handed off to Harvey.”
My body feels like it’s crawling with bugs, thinking about all of the shit that went down inside his home. The lingering eyes of his men, the amount of clients we had to take on weekly, and the abuse from Harvey was enough to make a sane person go mad.
Harvey always told his men they were allowed to look, but not touch. Some of them took that further than others, sneaking glances or forcing us to do things as long as they never laid a hand on us, unless it was to rough us up as punishment.
“Did you stay on that property? Was it the same one we took you from?” Rian asks this time. He has his phone out, waiting for my response. I’m guessing he’s going to want to do research on Harvey after I tell them all I know.
“It wasn’t the same place you guys took me from—it was larger, outside of the city in a secluded area. Just a house surrounded by woods, with nothing else in sight. When we were taken to and from that property, we always had to be blindfolded or placed in the back of the van with no windows. I don’t know if I could tell you where it is, but that was where they first brought us when we were sold to him.”
“You were taken there before the house we found you at?” Thiago’s brown eyes are filled with warmth and compassion.
“Yeah, he kept us there for a few weeks, then transported us one by one to the other house. The first house is so secluded, no one would know we were out there. I think it was to keep himself off the police radar.”
“Do you know how many people work for him? Any names?” Zep’s voice breaks through my worried thoughts.
“He has six security guards on rotation at all times. Typically three at the property in town and three at the property out of town. At least, that’s what I heard from whispers in the house. He also has a woman who works for him, who helps train the girls. We were only allowed to call her Madame, nothing else. No one knows her name, but she was there the entire time I was.”
Thiago, Zep, and Rian just nod their heads, looking between each other. We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, before Lya speaks.
“How many... How many girls are there?” Pain slices across her features as she asks the question. I know she still blames herself for what happened to me that day, but there’s not much she could have done. If she’d stepped in, then they would have taken both of us. She would’ve had to go through the same thing I did. I’d never wish that on anyone, so it’s a good thing she didn’t do anything that day.
“Catch me if you can,”Lya taunts, skipping ahead of me. She wants me to chase her, but I’m honestly too tired.
“Lee, do you ever stop so you can enjoy the scenery?” I ask, wanting to take my time on this walk home. It’s not like Mom will be there anyway. She’s probably working still, or out with one of her boyfriends.
“What scenery? We walk the same way home from school every day!” she yells back at me.
“Sometimes you just have to enjoy what you have around you even if you see it every day, because that’s all you may ever get,” I reply. It’s true—you never know when it’ll be the last time you’ll see it. We’ve seen too many of our friends lose loved ones here on the West Side. It happens when you’re least expecting it.
Instead of listening to me, she runs away as fast as she can. She likes to hide sometimes on our walk home, and then jump out and scare me. For some reason, I fall for it every time, even when I know it’s coming. I keep my slower, steady pace instead of running after her—I’m enjoying the sun on my skin.
After a few more steps, the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stand up. Something feels wrong.
Just as I turn around to look behind me, I’m yanked against somebody and my mouth is covered. I try to scream, but it’s muffled by the large palm across my face.
“Fuck. You stupid girl.” The man’s deep voice echoes in my head, as I bite down on his hand. Biting was my first instinct, but I don’t think it was a good one because he doesn’t remove his hand, it just made him grip me harder. I try to struggle against his body, but it’s no use. He’s so much bigger than me.
“Dude, help me, she’s stronger than she looks,” the man holding me calls to someone else.
“You can’t handle a child? Jesus, you’re pathetic. We wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you.” I can hear the other man, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Shut the fuck up and let’s get this over with.”
All of a sudden, another man comes around the front of us and grabs my legs. He’s wearing all black—including a ski mask—and is just as tall as the guy holding me. His narrowed eyes look angry, like this is all an inconvenience.
Trying to kick him in the face, I flutter my legs as quick and hard as I can. He’s faster though, moving his head out of the way before I can hit him, and gripping my legs tighter. My entire body feels like it’s in shock; I’m terrified, and confused about what’s going on.
“Keep struggling, and we’ll cut your fingers off one by one. Now be a good little girl and calm down,” the man who has my legs says with a growl.
How can no one see this happening? Doesn’t anyone hear the commotion?Though even if they did, no one in the West Side likes to get involved if they can avoid it. Better to protect yourself than put your neck on the line.
