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“She’s not here,” he says, scrolling through more photos. “I’ve searched them all.”
“How many are there?”
“Over a thousand, some videos too. I’ll spare you from having to watch those. Alina’s not in them, though.”
Danil’s genius comes with a price, and that price is incredibly high. He’s the only one who knows how to get in and out of the darkest of places on the web, how to hack into these bastards’ computers, so he’s the one who sees all the horrific shit.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, because I truly am.
He shrugs and closes the photos before bringing up some documents. “We all have our talents. Unfortunately, this is mine.”
“What is all this?”
“I think this might be the airport they’re using. It’s a private airfield about an hour away, and these documents over here show payments, big fucking payments, being made to an offshore account under the name of Swan Investments. I haven’t had a chance to research that, but it’s not going to lead us directly to anyone. Maybe I can untangle it, though, find a string we can follow that will eventually lead us to an actual name.”
I look at him, still seeing the young boy he was when we used to escape to each other’s apartments to avoid whatever shitty boyfriends our moms had at the time. I’ve known Danil my entire life, and I trust him completely, so when I ask, “Do you honestly believe we’ll find her alive?” I know he’ll tell me the truth, whether I want to hear it or not.
He thinks for a second, refusing to give me a quick rehearsed answer of forced optimism. Looking back at his screen, he says, “Look at their hands.” He zooms in on a picture of about ten women, all of them huddled together with their hands bound together. I look closer and notice they’re each wearing a rubber band around their wrists—some red, some blue.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but the women are wearing either a red or blue rubber band around their wrist in every fucking photo. I think it’s part of their sorting process. All these women are being taken and brought over here, right? We’ve heard that some get auctioned off, and some end up in clubs like the Viper and places like that.”
He looks at me. “This is just a theory, but based on what I’ve seen and on what I’ve read on the dark web, I think the color denotes virginity. So, for instance, all the red rubber bands mean virgins. Those girls get separated because they’ll sell for more money. They’re taken better care of.”
I know what he’s trying to say. My sister was a virgin when she was taken. I know that for a fact. She never got over her crush on Matvey, and the two of them were just starting to admit their feelings for one another when she disappeared. Matvey told me she was a virgin, and I believe him without question.
“So she may have been auctioned off?” I ask him. “You think maybe someone bought her?”
“It’s very possible. If we can find out who the fuck is behind Swan Investments, then maybe we can find out who bought her.”
The thought of my sister being sold off like a fucking cow at an auction makes me want to kill someone. I force myself to take a breath, knowing it won’t do any good to let the rage take over.
“This is good news, Roman,” he says. “I realize how that sounds, believe me, but this is good news. As fucked up as it is, it means she would’ve been treated better.”
I nod because I know what he’s saying is true. Good and bad is so fucked up in this line of work that good just means she wouldn’t have been gang raped right away. If she was bought, who the fuck knows what kind of monster she was sold to. It takes a certain kind of man to want to buy a woman at an auction, and we all know what kind of man that is.
“Thanks for looking through all this shit.”
“We’re not going to stop until we find her,” he reminds me.
I nod and rub the back of my neck, exhausted on a level I hadn’t thought possible. I’ve often wondered how much one person can worry before they just explode. I feel on the brink of combusting all the fucking time, so I guess we’ll find out soon enough. There’s got to be a point where it all becomes too much. I’ve been dancing around that line for a goddamn year.
The heavy weight continues to hang on me while we get ready to go and then lingers around on the somber drive back to the club that no one wants to be at. Danil and Matvey stay back so Danil can keep searching through the computer, and when the four of us walk in, a sense of dread washes over me. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s more crowded than usual, maybe it’s the perverted excitement in the air because everyone knows new girls are going to be presented tonight, or maybe it’s just the usual depressing air of the place. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. I feel on edge, and I have to fight the urge to haul Emily’s ass right back out to the car because the last place I want her is the very one I’ve just walked her into.
I tighten my grip on her wrist, rubbing my thumb around her tattoo, feeling her pulse and the warmth of her skin. I take a breath, letting it ground me as we push our way over to the bar. While we order drinks, she looks up at me and points to the bathroom. I kiss her forehead and walk with her down the hall. A long line has already formed, so we take our place at the end of it to wait.
The hall is crowded with people tonight, so I can’t speak English to Emily. I keep caressing her wrist while I run my eyes over her. She’s wearing the red dress tonight, and she looks fucking amazing. When she catches me staring, her cheeks heat up in a blush. I give her a wink right before David calls my name.
“Hey, Roman, glad you and your brothers could make it.” He looks at Emily and then at the line for the bathroom. “That’ll take forever. Just use the employee one. It’s right past my office.”
I thank him before he walks off to greet someone else. Leading Emily through the crowd, we slowly make our way to the employee bathroom. I knock and when no one says anything, I open the door and see a couple of stalls. The place is empty, so I pull Emily in for a kiss before I leave to stand guard outside.
“I love you, solnishka.”
She smiles up at me. “I love you too.”
I lean against the wall, keeping watch, but when a few minutes pass and she doesn’t come out, I start to get nervous. I force myself to wait a minute before I knock on the door. I look around, making sure no one can hear me before I yell, “Emily? You okay, baby?”
