Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) (21 page)

B
rianna lay in bed determined to plot her way out of this bad dream. Maybe she should fake another asthma attack. One so bad they had to rush her to the hospital. But she didn’t trust these evil people. If they thought she was really sick, they would probably just let her die.

She wondered when Kaylee was coming back. She had only talked to her once since coming to the new house. Poor Kaylee was no doubt doing everything they told her to do. Brianna could tell that Kaylee wasn’t strong like she was. Probably because she wasn’t raised in the church.

Brianna refused to stop believing that her Uncle Dre was coming to get her. She’d once overheard her mother and grandmother talking about her uncle being in prison. He would probably get some of his prison friends to help him rescue her. When they busted into the house, she wanted them to shoot both Clint and Freda right in the heart. She didn’t care if thinking like that wasn’t being a good Christian. Like her grandmamma always said, some people just got the devil in ’em.

There was a hard knock on the door, then it flung open. “You hungry, girl?”

Shantel stepped into the room. As far as Brianna was concerned, she was just a mini version of Freda. Her Uncle Dre should shoot her too. She flashed back to Shantel having sex with that nasty man and wanted to throw up. She really wanted to tell Shantel to get the hell away from her, but she was so hungry. Maybe if she ate some food, she could think better.

“Yeah,” Brianna said, sitting up.

“Then c’mon. This ain’t no restaurant. Ain’t nobody gonna serve you.”

Brianna stood up. She’d forgotten that she was still wearing the short skirt they made her put on for her
date
. She wished she had something to cover up her legs. The house was so cold.

This was the first time she’d been let out of the bedroom, except for going to the bathroom. Kym was right. This place really was much nicer than the other house. The couches and furniture appeared to be new. The kitchen was well-kept. But just like the other place, the windows were blacked out. She spotted containers of Chinese takeout on the table.

“The paper plates are over there,” Shantel said, sitting down.

Brianna took a seat across from her and dished out some fried rice onto a plate. She tried to chew but her jaw was too sore.

Shantel got up from the table and poured an amber liquid into a short glass.

“Here,” she said. “This will make you feel better.”

Brianna took a whiff and knew it was alcohol. “I’m not drinking that.”

“Fine. I was just tryin’ to help you feel better. I don’t care if your face never stops hurtin’.”

“I wanna go home,” Brianna pleaded.

“I already told you, you’re not going nowhere. I didn’t want to be here at first either. But this is better than being at a lot of places. At least we get to go shopping sometimes and eat what we want.”

Shopping?
Maybe that was her way out. If they took her to a mall, she could scream and yell and get somebody to rescue her.

“I wanna go shopping,” Brianna said.

“You can’t go shopping unless you start going on some dates first and make some money. They ain’t takin’ care of you for free.”

“I told you I’m not going on no date!” Brianna exploded. “And stop calling it a date. You’re a prostitute. You can be one if you want to, but I’m never gonna be one!”

“Go back to your room!” Shantel yelled, snatching Brianna’s plate of fried rice from the table. “Freda told me to be nice to you and try to get you to act right. But you crazy!”

“You’re the crazy one if you think you can just kidnap somebody off the street. You’re going to jail.”

“You don’t get it,” Shantel spat, “nobody don’t care about ho’s. That’s what I am and that’s what you’re gonna be too. You know how many girls Shep has kidnapped? Tons of them. And nobody has ever come lookin’ for ’em because nobody cares about ’em. Even if the police pick us up, we can turn around and go right back to Shep. And because we’re juveniles the most we can get is six months. And that ain’t no time.”

“Why do you wanna do this?” Brianna cried. “Why don’t you just get a job?”

“I can make more money in one day on the Internet than I can make in two weeks working a square job. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m just a smart businesswoman.”

Brianna stood up and swept the containers of food onto the floor.

“You must’a lost your mind,” Shantel screamed. She swung at Brianna, but Brianna saw the punch coming, grabbed Shantel’s arm and hurled her to the floor.

Brianna dashed for the kitchen door. To her surprise it opened easily. But on the other side, there was another door, a heavy metal one with two deadbolt locks. She tugged on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

Shantel yelled from the floor. “I already told you, you can’t get out of here. Why you so hardheaded?”

“You have to let me go!” Brianna screamed. “If you let me go, my mother will pay you. I swear.”

“I don’t need your money,” Shantel said. “I’m a businesswoman.”

“You’re not a businesswoman!” Brianna fired back. “Where’s your house and your car, Ms. Businesswoman? You can’t even leave the house when you want. You’re just a slave, but you’re too stupid to know it.”

“You just wait until Freda get back and I tell her how you been actin’,” Shantel shouted at her. “I hope they give you to Demonic. And if they do, you’re gonna wish you was dead.”

“Once a ‘Romeo Pimp’ has gained a victim’s trust, he systematically breaks down her resistance, support systems, and self-esteem. Victims are coerced into submission through gang rape, confinement, beatings, torture, cutting, tattooing, burning, branding, being deprived of basic needs, and threats of murder.”

—
The State of Human Trafficking in California

California Department of Justice

I
t was thirty minutes before closing time at City Stars and Dre was more nervous than he’d ever been in his life.

He was sitting behind the wheel of Mossy’s van, parked half a block away from the club. Apache was in the back section of the van. Bobby and Terrell were holding it down inside, while Mossy was waiting for them at the spot where they planned to take Clint after kidnapping him.

“Man, we need to get this show on the road,” Apache said from the back of the van. “After that sick-ass video of little shorty, I think we should just fire on the place and ask questions later.”

“Please shut up.” Dre was finding it hard to sit still.

Apache abided by Dre’s request for all of thirty seconds. “How much longer we gotta wait?”

Dre ignored him. D’wan and Gus should have been there by now. If they didn’t get there soon, the club would be closed.
Where the hell were
they?

Dre fired off a text to Gus.

Dre: u
comin?

Gus: almst
thre

Five minutes later, he watched Gus park his Tundra and walk into City Stars. D’wan pulled up on his Harley a short time later.

“It’s about time,” Dre said to himself.

He drove the van to the mouth of the alley behind the club. It was all out of his control now. He prayed everything went down the way they’d planned.

For the next eighteen minutes, Apache and Dre waited in silence. Dre’s fingers alternately tightened and released around the steering wheel.
What was taking so
long?

Then Apache started humming and tapping out a beat on the back of Dre’s seat. “Can we get some music or something?” he asked.

“Will you please shut up?” Dre replied, more than annoyed. “We need to be alert so—”

The buzz of his smartphone stopped him mid-sentence. He picked it up and read the text.

Gus: bout 2 go
down

“It’s time!” Dre started up the van. “Open the door!”

Apache did as instructed as the van crawled down the alley. Dre stopped just past the back door of the club, engine running.

“I don’t know why you didn’t let me go inside where the action is,” Apache complained.

“Shut up!” Dre snapped. “When we get this fool, you’re going to get plenty of action. Just be ready to slam that door shut as soon as everybody jumps in.”

Exactly five minutes later, Bobby and Terrell busted through the back door of the club and into the alley. They tossed a squirming Clint into the van and hopped in with him.

Dre hit the gas before Apache had time to close the door.

B
rianna was rolled into a ball on the bed, listening to Kym and Tameka joke about the johns they’d serviced that night. She could barely keep her eyes open, but was too afraid of what might happen to her if she let herself fall asleep.

“The first guy smelled like puke,” Tameka complained, twisting her lips. “I couldn’t wait until he was done.”

Kym laughed. “You lucky he only lasted two minutes.”

Tameka joined in the laughter. “More like a minute and thirty seconds.”

“Hey, peeps!” Brianna heard a man calling out from kitchen. “Anybody awake up in this mug? Daddy’s home!”

“Yuck!” Kym grabbed her clothes from the bed. “I hate him.” She dashed out of the room and down the hallway.”

Brianna hopped off the bed, frightened by the ashen look on Tameka’s face.

“What’s the matter? Who’s that?” Brianna asked.

“It’s Darnell,” Tameka whispered. “He’s ugly and stinky and got rotten teeth. He works for The Shepherd. He thinks he can just come up in here and have sex with us anytime he wants. Freda already told him about that. But she ain’t here.”

Tameka looked around the room as if she was searching for a place to hide. She dashed into the closet and closed the door.

Before Brianna could follow her, a man burst into the room.

“Where’s everybody at? Is this any way to welcome Darnell home?”

A man with the face of a canine stared hungrily at Brianna. His hair was uncombed and he smelled like he lived on the streets. Brianna wanted to run, but her body was suddenly immobilized.

“You must be the new girl,” Darnell said, stepping further into the room. “Come over here so Daddy can get a look at you.”

Brianna started to tremble. The fact that Kym and Tameka were scared of what this man might do made Brianna doubly terrified.

“I said come here!” Darnell shouted.

Brianna still didn’t move.

Darnell stepped closer and held both of her arms up high. He turned her around and started running his hands all over her rear end. Brianna tried to pull away, repulsed by the man’s touch.

“Whoooo weeeee! This is some real tender meat right here,” he said, slapping her on the rear end. “Daddy can’t wait to test drive you.”

Brianna finally squirmed free, but had now backed herself against the wall. “Leave leave me alone!”

“Darnell’s been on the road for eight long hours and this is how you gonna treat him? I brought some new girls down from Oakland. Had to pull off the road to test out a couple of ’em. But none of ’em was as fine as you. I bet you still a virgin. Well, Darnell gonna do you a favor and break you in. Take off your clothes. Let me see what you workin’ with.”

Brianna was certain she was about to puke. “Get the hell away from me!”

He frowned. “That ain’t no kinda way to talk to Daddy.” Darnell grabbed Brianna’s thin top and ripped it off. “Dang! You ain’t got no titties, girl.”

“Get away from me!” Brianna bent at the waist, crisscrossing her arms to cover her breasts. “Please leave me alone!”

“I like it when they beg,” Darnell said, laughing and rubbing his groin. “We gonna have us a good time. What’s your name?”

Brianna had her eyes on the open door and wondered if she could make it past him before he caught her. But then what would she do? Maybe she could get to the kitchen and grab a knife from the drawer.

As if he’d been reading her mind, Darnell took a few steps backward, slamming the door shut without even looking behind him.

“I asked you your name, little girl. Don’t make me get ugly.” His tone had gone from playful to gruff.

“Bree…Brianna.” She took a sideways step. Darnell did the same.

Brianna was having trouble breathing again, and this time, it wasn’t an act.

Darnell started unbuckling his belt.

“Well, Brianna, you and me ’bout to have a little private party.”

“I
don’t see anybody coming,” Dre said, checking the rearview mirror as he sped down the alley.

He made a sharp right, then a series of turns that he’d mapped out in his head the day before.

“That’s because they probably don’t even know he’s gone yet,” Terrell said with a laugh. “The minute Clint walked out of the men’s room, I gave the signal and Gus and D’wan pretended to punch each other out. All the bouncers ran over there, while I clocked the dude and stuck a sock in his mouth to keep him from screaming as we carted him out the back door. Your plan worked like a charm, bruh.”

Clint was tied up on the floor of the van. He stopped squirming after Apache punched him in the face and he passed out.

Dre felt ecstatic about how smoothly everything had gone down. But he also knew his plan could put Brianna in further danger. Dre wished he could’ve kidnapped someone who meant as much to The Shepherd as Brianna meant to him. But there appeared to be no one like that in his life.

It took less than twenty minutes to reach the abandoned warehouse in Gardena where Dre had arranged to take Clint. The van rolled into a humongous building that looked like something out of a James Bond movie. Cold, dark and isolated.

Mossy walked up to the van. “You were supposed to call me and let me know everything went down according to plan. I’ve been sweatin’ bullets.”

“Sorry, man.” Dre slapped his friend on the shoulder. “I got so excited I forgot all about calling you.”

“I just wish I could’ve been the one to grab dude,” Apache moaned.

Bobby and Terrell retrieved Clint from the back of the van and dumped him on the ground in front of the van. The bright headlights from Mossy’s van and Dre’s Jetta were their only source of light in the expansive warehouse.

Dre opened a bottle of water and doused Clint, who slowly began to wake up. He squinted at the bright lights, then took in the five men staring down at him. His eyes landed on Dre last. The distress in them pleased Dre immensely.

Bobby and Terrell lifted Clint from the ground and set him in a rusted-out chair in front of Dre. His feet were bound and his hands were tied behind his back.

“Hey, Mr. Big Shot,” Dre said.

Clint started to whimper.

“We’re going to show you what it feels like to be kidnapped and beaten up,” he said.

Clint’s whimpers quickly grew into sobs. A string of saliva stretched from his lower lip to his white silk shirt.

“We need some information,” Dre said. “My cousin here is going to show you what’s gonna happen every time you fail to answer one of my questions.”

Dre stuffed a towel deep into Clint’s mouth, then gave Apache a nod. His cousin stepped forward and happily zapped Clint in the groin with his stun gun.

Clint howled and writhed, tumbling from the chair onto the dusty concrete floor.

“That’s just a sample of things to come,” Dre said.

Bobby and Terrell picked him up and placed him back in the chair. Clint doubled over in pain.

Dre jerked the towel from his mouth and waited while Clint vomited all over himself.

“Where’s my niece?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Clint bawled. “I swear.”

Dre turned to Apache. “Go for it.”

His cousin rushed forward and zapped him in the nuts a second time.

Clint’s screams would’ve penetrated the walls if they hadn’t been in a soundproof building.

“You’re the one calling the shots here,” Dre said. “We can do this all night long if you want. Too many zaps could actually kill you.”

He gave the signal and Apache moved toward Clint for a third time.

“No, no! Okay, okay! She’s at one of Shep’s houses in the Valley. It’s on Wardlow.”

“Aw man!” Apache punched Clint hard in the chest. “I can’t believe you punked out that quick. I only got to zap you two times.”

Mossy shook his head and gave Dre another I-told-you-he-was-crazy look.

Dre stepped closer to him. “What’s the address?”

“273 Wardlow Circle.”

“Who’s at the house?”

“Just Freda and a few of the girls,” Clint cried. “She’s in charge of watching them.”

“No shit?” Bobby said. “Ya’ll got women helping y’all?”

Dre turned to Mossy. “Check the address.”

Mossy grabbed his iPad from the van and tapped in the address on Google maps, then showed the screen to Dre.

“Describe the house?” Dre said. “I want to make sure you’re not jerking me around.”

Clint sputtered out his words between sobs. “It’s beige, two big windows in front. There’s a six-foot gate around the entire house.”

“That’s it,” Mossy said.

“Where does The Shepherd live?”

“I don’t know!”

Dre pointed at Apache. But before Apache could zap him again, the information spilled out of Clint.

“He lives in Newport Beach.”

“What’s the address?”

“I don’t know it by heart. I swear I don’t!”

“Apache!” Dre called out.

“The house is on Ocean Boulevard. The address is in my phone!” Clint cried out. “In my pocket!”

“Man, you’re a little bitch!” Apache slapped him upside the head, then pulled the phone from his pocket and tossed it to Dre.

“Look it up,” Dre said, passing the phone to Mossy.

“I need the address to every single house where The Shepherd keeps girls.”

Clint hung his head. “It’s in my phone too. Under
locations
.”

They waited as Mossy checked. “Yep, here it is right here.”

Dre started moving toward his car. “Let’s go, everybody. Apache, you stay here with him.”

Apache was salivating. “Hey, dude, you and me gonna have big fun tonight.”

“Please, please! Don’t leave me here with him!” Clint screamed. “Please! He’s crazy! He’ll kill me!”

Dre took two steps back, grabbed the stun gun from Apache’s hand and also snatched the Glock from his waistband.

“Don’t touch him. Just watch him. See if you can find out some more information about The Shepherd’s operation.”

Apache looked as if he was about to cry. “Y’all can’t leave me here with no heat!”

Dre ignored him. He was just about to walk past Clint again, but something stopped him. He froze and stared down at Clint’s left hand for several long seconds. Then he reared back and punched him in the face so hard he flew off the chair and crashed to the ground. In a wild flurry of movement, Dre started kicking him in the ribs, then stomped repeatedly on his head.

After a few seconds, Mossy grabbed Dre by the arm and dragged him away. “Yo’, man, we just tryin’ to get your niece back. We don’t need no murder wrap.”

Clint lay on the floor moaning.

“He was the one—” Dre tried to speak, but he was so worked up he had trouble getting the words out. “He was the one beating up Brianna on that video.”

Mossy was still holding on to Dre. “How do you know that?”

He pointed down at Clint’s hand. “I saw that diamond pinky ring he’s wearing on the video. I’ll never forget it.”

Dre’s right hand throbbed with pain. As good as it felt to beat the punk down, he was glad that Mossy had stopped him.

If he hadn’t, Clint might’ve ended up dead.