Becoming Macy

Eight

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SCENES THAT MAY BE DISTURBING, INCLUDING R.A.P.E AND BOTCHED A.B.O.R.T.I.O.N!

Macy:

I woke up the following day with my head splitting. At least I pulled the curtains before I fell asleep. I snuck downstairs, grabbing myself some coffee. After snatching some clothes from my closet, I bathed, sinking deeply into the hot bubbles with a sigh. Leaning against the bath pillow, I drank my coffee and scrolled through footage on my phone.

*DING*

I almost dropped my phone in the bathwater at the obnoxious tone singing from the phone. I never get text messages, so the alert surprised me.

Unknown number: I got your card the other night… I need help.

Me: Send me an address. I can come and get you taken care of.

The dots signaling the typing popped up and went away; it did that two more times until, finally, a message rang through.

Unknown: I'm pregnant.

Me: Not a problem. I promise. Everything will be okay. Just send me an address.

I got out of the tub feeling better with my coffee and Tylenol. I quickly dressed in jeans and a tee and was putting my glasses on when the message with her address came through. It was only an hour or so away, and since everyone was still sleeping, I could easily sneak from the house and set out after the girl.

I pulled into a shady ass neighborhood, but the minute I saw her dark greasy hair and her bruised face. I knew who she was. I remembered her. She was the girl being r.a.p.e.d by the first John I killed.

I pulled in beside her, rolling down the window.

"Get in," I said with a smile.

Our first stop was fast food and a lot of it. We ate in silence at first. Just enjoying the greasy goodness. But something was nagging at me. She isn't the first girl to use the card, but… it has been a while.

"What made you decide to call?" I asked around for a bite of salty French fries.

Her eyes welled up with tears, and her brows scrunched up. She told me about how her boyfriend was the one that sold her to the Madame. She said they were struggling financially and that their plan was only for her to have to be there for a couple of weeks tops, and then he would come to get her back. He ended up selling her for the top price and not coming back. She had been brutally violated repeatedly, and she said when I busted in, I gave her the strength to take her life back. She admitted to killing him so he couldn't interfere with her growth, and I understood that more than she knew.

I opened my glove box, grabbing the first set of keys from the stack. I did some hacking jobs for some bigwigs a while back and bought seven apartment complexes all over the state. All are remodeled and very nice. They pay for themselves and offer a lot of the women who live there a good-paying job. I handed her the keys.

I love this part of what I do.

"The first three months are free. It is fully furnished, and you have a monthly inspection. Are you on any drugs?" she shook her head, clutching the keys to her chest.

"Good. Let me know by the second month if you are still unemployed. I can help you get work with a good wage. Don't be afraid to reach out to me if you need anything, okay?" she nodded, her head collapsing against me, sobbing. I don't like hugs, but I think she needs this one, so I let her have it.

After she had calmed down, I took her for a checkup at a local health department and then helped her settle into the apartment with a week's worth of groceries.

"Remember... I can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I will keep your secret and keep you safe, but you keep my secrets too." She nodded and watched me carefully as I walked away before closing her new front door.

When I got back to Sonny's, it was already late in the day. The sun was setting low in the sky, and the world looked peaceful. Only behind that beautiful sky is nothing but chaos and destruction.

"They've been looking for you." Wyatt's voice was full of the same darkness and despair it had in it last night before we went to find Sophia.

"Oh no, that's never good." I smiled wickedly at him. I knew what looking for me meant.

I went inside to find a pissed-off Sonny yelling at Gabriella for getting so drunk last night; I don't remember how I got inside the house, and clearly, she doesn't either.

"And you!" he stomped in my direction, smacking the taste out of my mouth before he stopped walking. Gabriella screeched when Sonny's hand echoed against my cheek. She started sobbing, sniffing, and snorting like a child.

"I heard about your little fiasco. Sticking your tongue in another girl's mouth and fighting. Both of you should be ashamed." He snapped… But I only smiled.

"What the f.u.c.k is going on?!" Wyatt growled, running over to Gabriella.

"Sonny Barlow, if you ever put your hands on me again, I will hang you from the rafters by your intestines, you slimy b.a.s.t.a.r.d." I spat through gritted teeth.

"Macy! Don't talk to your father like that." My mother came in from the kitchen.

"I'm leaving." I spat at her when her face had little to no reaction to the handprint across my cheek. I don't know why I thought she would care.

I ran upstairs to collect my things. I can shut down Lucky Six from the privacy of my dorm room. The campus will be quiet right now, so I can work alone without interruption.

"If you leave now, you can kiss that jeep goodbye, little girl." Sonny screeched at me, showing me exactly where Gabriella got it from.

"I bought, paid for, and maintained that jeep, Barlow. It is nothing to you. It's in my name, and so is insurance." I chuckled, slamming the hatch down.

"You can kiss your trust fund goodbye then." I have been waiting for this moment since my mother married him.

I laughed until tears rimmed my eyes at him. I popped open the glove compartment, grabbing a rolled-up piece of paper as my mother tried calming Sonny.

"I don't have a trust fund, Sonny. You willed everything to Gabriella and cut your wife and me out of everything." I wiped the tears away that were caused by my laughter, handing Mom a copy of that section in his will that Sonny snatched at greedily.

"I pay my own tuition. I feed and clothe myself. My cell phone is in my name. You haven't spent a red cent on me since senior prom, and you bitched about it then. So, don't act like you did me any favors." I flipped him off as I walked around, opened the driver's door, and plopped my happy ass onto the seat. I sped off with the honk of a horn, determined never to see any of those f.u.c.k.e.r.s again.

I broke my record getting to university, and as I suspected, everyone was gone for the holidays. No matter. I prefer solitude. On the way back, I picked up some Taco Bell and tequila and looked forward to getting back into surveillance on Lucky Six. My eye had gotten slightly swollen from the smack Sonny delivered. But my eyesight was still satisfactory with my glasses. I changed into black cargo joggers and a black crop top, humming some metal song in my head as I happily piled my hair high.

It was barely nightfall now, and the longer I sat there, the more I wanted to scope out Lucky Six to see if I could get my eyes on Aliya. I couldn't handle the voices raging wild in my head anymore. I was already halfway there before I realized what I was doing. I'm going in blind, and I never do that. I usually go in with weeks of reconnaissance, and this time. I only know the blueprint of the building, and I don't remember it well.

I pulled in with the neon signs blaring and the music bumping loudly outside, and I knew that meant the inside wouldn't do me a single favor in calming my storms.

I made a quick loop around before going to the bar and ordering a beer. I had no intention of drinking anything in this place. That would make it too easy if someone got the bright idea to drug and abduct me, and I would not fall victim to these vile humans.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face. These places make me feel disgusting. It feels like every inch of my body is covered in sticky filth.

Awareness snapped into place when I heard small sobs from the bathroom stall at the end.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, unsure if someone somewhere was waiting for her.

She never answered… only guttural groaning, a clanking sound, and hard sobs could be heard. I entered the stall beside hers, standing on the toilet to peep into her booth.

"Aliya! Aliya Wagner!" the joy I was swimming in was soon drained. She looked up at me with bloodshot eyes that were so lifeless that I knew she had to have been high on drugs. She was sitting in a pool of blood with a jagged wire hanger clenched tightly in her fist.

"I couldn't have his baby. I couldn't do it." She sobbed uncontrollably. I have to get her out of here. Right now, I have to take her out.

I knew from the blueprints I had looked at that the tunnel entrance was at the end of this hallway and to the left. If we take those stairs and stay straight, a ladder at the end will take us out of a utility hole about half a mile from where I had parked the jeep. I picked her up in her delirious state and packed her to the ladder. She kept saying she couldn't have his baby, and I didn't know who he was, but I didn't blame her.

I managed to get her coherent enough to climb the ladder and walk the half mile to the jeep. I took her to the only place that made sense. I was afraid that if I took her to the hospital, all hell would break loose when they realized she was a living dead girl.

We drove for two hours until we came to the little cabin that I had been taken care of in one too many times since finding out that murder was the only thing that kept my demons at bay. I knocked on the door, sighing in relief when the thudding of his boots shuffled across the old, creaking floorboards.

"You hurt again?" he said, exhaling a puff of his joint in a cloud around me.

"Not me. A friend." I murmured, worried he would turn her away.

"You don't have friends, Scooter. Who is it really?" he grunted, passing me the rest of his joint, which I happily accepted.

"She used to go to school with me. She got caught up in the trade, and I don't think it was by choice. She seems pretty doped out, and she gave herself a botched abortion in the bathroom of the nightclub that owns her." I said, exhaling my own cloud of smoke.

"Let's get her in then." He shuffled on his lousy leg, limping to my jeep. I took her in my arms. The poor thing couldn't weigh ninety pounds.

"I'll take care of her. I have a friend that can come out and check her out properly and ensure she doesn't get an infection from whatever you said she used to fish the leach out of her.

"Thanks, Theodore. You're the best." I mumbled.

After getting her inside with Theodore, I climbed back into my jeep and sped out of the mountains. I was more ready for bed than I had been since childhood.

I rolled into bed around five. The blissful sleep I was drowning in soon became a nightmare I couldn't escape. I woke up screaming, with sweat soaking my clothes like a second skin. I showered under cold water while sucking on the bottle of tequila for comfort.

With sleep now far out of my reach, the reconnaissance can begin. I went through every financial record, stopping at the most recent.

A bill of sale that had my jaw clenched so tightly my teeth ached.

The ownership of Lucky Six had changed hands from one Callum Whitlock to a Sonny Barlow almost nine months ago.

Those mother f.u.c.k.e.r.s are in the skin trade. I slammed my fists down, knocking the almost empty bottle of tequila from my desk.

Rage consumed me as I knocked my dresser and bed over to relieve some of the blood lust clouding my eyes.

I calmed down enough to continue digging for answers. The tunnel system underneath the club I used to get Aliyah out is marked on the blueprints as a cellar. That's likely how they're getting women to and from. I looked through the missing persons in the area, finding seven girls had gone missing in the last six months, and none of them have been found; zero bodies have been recovered. Confirming my earlier suspicion. Sonny and Callum have been very naughty boys for the last few months.

Sonny has always had illegal deals going on. He has always been a twisted little man behind the kind smiles, and fruity acts, but drugs, money, and guns will never be a concern of mine... skin, on the other hand... I can't have that now, can I?...

I sat back, slouching in my computer chair with the tequila swirling comfortably in my gut. The Lucky Six should be empty right now, but it isn't. Four men in their snazzy suits were gathered at the bar over drinks, and right in the middle was Sunny f.u.c.k.i.n.g Barlow.

I gave a brief Ah-Ha when the security systems were equipped with audio.

Sonny: They want the shipment on Thursday. The best thing we can do is have a girls' night performance on Wednesday, have a male strip show, and get as many as possible. While everyone is distracted during the show, we will shut the lights off and get what we can. They've requested a minimum of ten girls, and we already have six. The more we get, the better.

Guy to the far left: Well, we had six. The bartender that closed this morning found a ton of blood in the lady's room. It led into the tunnel, but the blood trail stopped before the intersection. We don't know which way she went, but no one can find her. It was the college kid from your daughter's school.

I recorded the entire conversation the minute I heard the word shipment. I never thought I would have caught a confession from his dumb ass. Granted, he was never savvy about technology. He probably doesn't even realize what a hacker is or how easily it can be done to someone.

I dozed off in my chair, waking up when one of the waitresses dropped a tray of glasses. In a panic, she dropped to her knees, cleaning up the glass, unable to stop even with her hands bleeding. Sonny had left his office with a loud bang. Storming to the front, looking as pissy as ever.

He took the girl by her hair and started at her before beating her face in. I wouldn't let myself look away. I can only live in peace by knowing it is doing the world a favor when I do what I do. While I know killing Sonny Barlow is a service I will take great pleasure in, my mother still sees him as her saving grace and the love of her life.

But I didn't need any more convincing. The moment he yanked her limp body back up by her hair, with her bloodied eyes barely capable of staying open, and threw her over the bar, pulling her shorts down, violently shoving himself inside of her as her eyes that were filled with fear only moments ago went dead peering into space. She gripped the counter, silently crying as he raped her against the bar in front of every worker there. He sealed his fate.

Sonny Barlow will die at my hands, and for this girl and everyone before her, I will make it brutally f.u.c.k.i.n.g painful.

I left my screens to draw myself a bath. When the clouds fog my eyes, and my brain screams profoundly awful things at me, an ice-cold bath seems to dull the suffering ache that rapidly swells.

I can't get my mind off Sonny. The replay of walking into his home and just f.u.c.k.i.n.g his life up for him isn't enough. When you want things closed permanently, you must do it from the ground up. If you take the brothel down and don't take the Madame and supplier down, they will just start back up in a new location. You have to kill them all first and then tear the brothel to the ground to ensure those walls never get rebuilt by the devil's hands again.

I must have dozed off again because the water sloshing into my face, burning my nose and throat as I sucked it in, shook me back to life as I violently fit against myself. Aliyah was in my dream… she was the woman Sonny had bent over the bar. The burning question of who the man was that had impregnated her against her will stuck to me like liquid nail. Was Sonny Barlow the him she was talking about?

I pulled on some skinny jeans, laced up my boots, and pulled on a hoodie. It's cold as hell this time of year, but for some reason, the cold is only an inconvenience for me. I don't feel it in my bones like you hear people talk about.

I returned to the old cabin, wondering how Aliyah had done through the night. But when I got there, Thheo had dark bags under his eyes, and he and the man he only calls his friend sat on the cabin's porch, passing a vodka bottle around. Their bloody hands and tired faces told me last night hadn't been good.

"We did our best, kid. She lost too much blood." Theo's voice was full of gravel. It hurts him to lose one of them as much as it does me.

"Did she say anything to you before she passed?" Neither of them wanted to answer my question. They looked at each other in a silent exchange, probably deciding who told me what.

"She said your stepfather was the father of the kid." Friend grumbled, taking another long swig from the bottle.

"Sonny Barlow is nothing to me but a f.u.c.k.i.n.g burden," I said through gritted teeth.

I turned, leaving without another word. They'll figure something out with Aliyah's body. They always do. Usually, it's hiding it somewhere and then calling it in like they randomly found it. This time though… I don't know. Her poor mother will have to mourn the loss of her daughter twice.