Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Handing me the large duffle full of guns and jewels, Spike goes over everything with me once more before driving away with Wesley still shouting in the back. The rule was that they weren’t allowed to stay, they had to go until they were called back. That means I have no choice but to go it alone. I know they’ll have eyes on me, but they have to be cautious about how they do that.
Taking a deep breath, I walk through the parking lot, past the gates and to a large blue container. For a moment, it seems nobody is here, but I know damn well I’m not alone. Standing, my hands shaking, my heart racing, I wait for someone to come out and take me to the shipment. A moment later, that happens.
A man appears from around the side of the container, one I haven’t seen before. His eyes are a deep, murky brown and his hair is messy. He has a scar running through his eyebrow and down his cheek and his body is tall and muscular. He’s terrifying, something incredibly confronting about him.
“Are you the...”
He cuts me off, raising a hand. “Do not speak.”
Sickness swirls in my stomach as I watch him turn and begin striding toward the mass of containers. I follow him, assuming that I’m meant to, and I try to take in my surroundings in case I need to get out of here quickly. There are so many containers, and they’re stacked on top of one another, it’s a maze that is almost impossible to find your way out of.
I think that’s the point.
Right down the back, in front of a large ship, sits a container on its own. It is guarded, two men with guns standing by the door, looking a lot like they’d shoot anyone who even dared look at them wrong. My knees grow weak, and my palms sweat as we come to a stop in front of those men, and the man who collected me turns and orders. “Open the bag.”
With trembling fingers, I do as he asks, opening the bag and showing him the items inside. He ruffles around in it for a second, then orders me to close it before giving me a stern expression. He then proceeds to order me to remove my clothes until I’m in only my underwear. I had a feeling this would happen, they want to make sure I’m not concealing anything that could bring them down, but it doesn’t make it easy.
Placing the bag on the ground, I carefully reach for my shirt and pull it over my head. The moment they see the bulletproof vest, the man leading me grins and steps forward, removing it with such force I barely stay on my feet. “If I’m going to shoot you, girl, I’ll put a bullet right here.”
He presses a finger to my forehead.
I suck in a breath.
I am struggling to keep it together, the fear in my body is almost crippling.
“Keep going,” he orders, tossing the vest aside.
I undress until I’m only in my bra and panties and as predicted, he has me remove my boots and socks, too. When I’m standing before him, as ordered, he spins me around, checking me over to make sure I’m not stashing anything. He even jerks my hair aside, running his fingers through it.
It is almost too much.
But I hold strong.
“Clear.”
The two-armed men turn, pressing a heap of buttons on the keypad that locks the shipping container. Then with a large click, it opens. The men take the handles, turning it and pulling it open. It’s dark, and for a minute, I can’t see anything. Eventually, my eyes adjust to the dim light, and I see it is filled to the brim with boxes stacked on top of each other.
“Walk to the end, place it down.”
The firm voice has me taking a step into the container, moving past the boxes that I know are full of illegal things that are worth more money than I could ever wrap my mind around. I don’t care to even graze my hand against them, I just want to get out of here. Instead, I walk to the end and place the duffle down. Just as I’m about to turn, I hear a small squeak.
It's so soft, at first, it feels like I’m imagining things but when I hear it again, I know it’s not in my mind. Narrowing my eyes, I peer around in the darkness, but I can’t see anything. Taking a step closer to the noise, I lean down, squinting my eyes.
“Get out of there, right fucking now.”
The voice ordering me to move fades into nothing as my eyes lock on a young girl. She’s maybe twelve or thirteen years old, huddled in a corner, her knees to her chest and her hair falling over her eyes. Gasping, I press a hand to my chest, squatting down in front of her and reaching out.