44. June 23rd

JUNE 23RD

Sylvan

Sylvan triedto keep the panic at bay. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, then let the air out. She continued to breathe deeply. Inhale for three counts, hold on the fourth, exhale for three, and hold on the fourth. Repeat. In her mind, she focused on the image of the wolf's head on her missing collar.

Gendry had taken her jewelry from her and checked her obvious pockets when they were in the SUV. The wolf collar with the tracker in it had disappeared into a metal box that had then been ditched to throw TB off the trail if he tried to track her.

Dumbass. The idiot hadn't thought to frisk the rest of her to look for wires or anything like that. It was really amazing to her that this idiot was capable of running a drug and prostitution ring as a middleman and had never been caught. Wasn't frisking for phones Criminal 101 stuff?

Midas had given her a burner phone programmed to TB and him only since he was using her phone to try and gather intel on her stalker's location. Currently, it was in her hidden corset pocket, in silent mode, so even though it was on, it wouldn't ring or vibrate. As long as the man didn't strip her down to nothing, it would stay on her.

Would TB think of that? Would he remember that she always kept it on her person? She hoped so.

She glanced up at the timer. Two hours, fifty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds.

A buzzer sounded far down on her right.

"Flame, you okay?"

The voice came from the container to her immediate right. Medusa.

"Yeah, I'm okay. You?"

"I'm good."

A buzzer sounded down to her right.

"What's that noise?" Sylvan asked.

"That means the countdown is at zero, and the sale is complete."

"Shit," Sylvan whispered.

There was silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess," Sylvan apologized.

"Not your fault, girl. I've been in ‘this mess,' as you call it, for a lot longer than you think."

Sylvan stayed silent.

"Flame," Medusa tried again. "Does Lobo have a tracker on you?" Medusa tried again. "I know who he is, what he does. We're very familiar with Tribe, even though they are not familiar with us."

"You? You mean you, Loki, and Gilgamesh?"

"Yes. It's a long story. Look, I know you don't know me from anyone, but I need to know. Does he have a way to track you?"

"Well, no. I mean, he did. But it was in the collar I was wearing. There's another way he could find me. He'd have to remember some information to do it, though."

"Will he remember it?"

"Yes. Eventually. I don't know. Possibly. Hopefully."

There was a sigh. "Well, that sucks. Not for you!" the woman corrected. "For me."

"I don't understand."

"Sorry. You wouldn't. We were just so damn close. I have a tracker on me, but they weren't going to be coming for me. Not yet, anyway. And even with you being taken as well, I don't know if they'd have come after us."

"What are you talking about?"

"You weren't part of the plan. We were hoping to follow the pipeline the girls are moving through."

"You wanted to be caught?"

What the flim-flam was the matter with this woman?! Who wants to be taken by sex traffickers, even if you're trying to catch them?

"Yes, that was the plan. You've sort of complicated things here without meaning to. We need Gendry alive and working. We've been trying to redirect things, but it's difficult to do when you also don't want to out yourself. But since he took you, Lobo's going to take care of that, and we'll be back at square one."

"I can't believe they'd just let you be taken."

"Risks are necessary sometimes."

"You mean sacrifices. You're sacrificing yourself, and they're letting you."

There was a rustling noise as if Medusa were trying to finagle her way into a position besides standing up and some faint scraping noises. There was a muffled curse and a sigh, then a pointed inhale and exhale as if Medusa were trying to center herself.

"Flame, some things are bigger than one person. Do you know how many people are trafficked every year? Last year, it was over twenty-seven million. Mostly women and girls. Some of it's labor-related, but a large portion of it is sexual slavery. The conditions are… well, let's just say most don't make it out alive. And of those who do, it's not even a half-life."

"But if they don't step in, you'll be sent to who knows where."

"Flame, I wasn't planning on being rescued."

Sylvan let that sink in. "They'll…"

"Yes. Probably."

"You're crazy! How can you want that to happen?"

"I don't want it to. And I'm certainly not going to simply let it happen. I'll fight every step of the way. But the only way to cut down these pipelines is to blow them up from within. I'm willing to make the sacrifice to put a major dent in the numbers."

"And your men are willing to allow that to happen?"

"They're not my men. Not like you're thinking. The triad thing is just a cover so we could move about the club together and not have to involve other members."

"But still," Sylvan argued. "To allow any woman to sacrifice herself to sex traffickers is hardly appropriate." She stopped herself. "That sounded stupid."

Medusa laughed. "I get it. And normally I would agree. What kind of man allows that? But Loki and Gil have their own connections to all of this, both incredibly ugly, and they're not really thinking all that clearly about it. Otherwise, I doubt it would have been ‘allowed' as you call it."

"And what about you?"

"Why am I willing to sacrifice myself, you mean?" Medusa paused. "Let's just say that I'm not entirely innocent in all of this. It's my way to atone for my unwitting part in it."

Another buzzer sounded. Girl number three had just been sold.

"That's the third girl," Sylvan whispered. "There'll be two more before you. He said those five women were fifteen minutes apart."

"If I lose this opportunity, we may never get another chance to shut this shit down. What is your countdown at?"

Sylvan looked up at the digital timer. "Two hours and six minutes."

She heard a lot of swearing and puffing coming from Medusa's box. There was the rattling of the handcuffs and then an elongated hiss followed by a squeal and a sudden jerk. Metal jangled against itself.

"I'm out of my cuffs. I'm going to switch boxes with one of the two remaining girls."

"Won't he see you?"

"I don't know. I hope not. I'm hoping he's taking care of money transfers and shipping details and won't be paying attention. If he does see me, we'll know. But I need to try and make sure I get through the pipeline to the destination for one of the women. If I wait to let my own sale go through, I may lose my chance because it allows more time for Lobo and his band of merry men to get here."

"Medusa, don't do this!" Sylvan hissed.

"I don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice. There's always another way."

"Stay quiet, Flame. Even if you're sold, Lobo will still come for you. They likely know I'm gone as well, or will be soon, because Loki and Gil will tell them if they don't already know. I'm going to place another tracker on the outside of your container. It will give them another avenue to track you.

"But, Flame, this next part is super important. Do whatever you're told to do. Do whatever it takes to stay alive. Alive and damaged is better than dead. And if you do as you're told, if you accept it and keep hold of the fact that Lobo will find you, the damage will be less no matter what physically occurs to you."

"Medusa, no!"

Sylvan heard a cracking noise and what sounded like the tinkling of something small and made of glass breaking. "That was my camera. I don't have long. Stay alive, Flame."

The sound of a metal door softly opening and closing could be heard, and then a soft groan and a murmur. Moments later, Sylvan heard the whisper of the door opening again, a whimper, and a shushing sound, followed by a closing door, and then silence. Medusa had effectively switched out one of the girls for herself, then gone to put herself in the other girl's box.

Another ten minutes passed. A buzzer sounded.

Fifteen minutes passed. Another buzzer.

A short time later, Sylvan heard sounds like squeaky wheels and metal being moved. The sold girls were being relocated. Her stomach turned at the thought.

Hurry, TB!