The People Traders (2 page)

Frank pretended to act shyly. "Do you mind going to your room, Susan? Karen and I've got some talking to do and I'd feel a bit embarrassed with you standing there."

"That's okay; I'd feel a bit stupid myself." Then looking very serious, Susan put her hand out. "I don't like to ask, but can I have the rest of the payment now? You know, just in case you want to leave with her and she sees you handing me money?"

Frank nodded, handing her an envelope. "It's all there, Susan, also I've added an extra few quid, just for you, by way of a thank you."

Susan gave a big grin then ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door loudly. He followed, after first locking the back door and then the front. As he climbed the stairs, his heart was pounding. Stopping for a moment outside the bathroom, a satisfied grin spread over his face. "Right you bitch, come to Frankie," he muttered. Moments later he pushed his shoulder against the door of the bathroom, bursting it open.

Karen spun round in surprise. She'd been drying her hair with a towel and was wearing only a t-shirt and knickers. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.

Ignoring her question, he just shouted back at her to come with him.

Karen scowled. "I don't know what you want, but you're off your trolley if you think I'm going to come with you, half dressed and with my hair wet. So why don't you get lost before I..." Karen's comments were cut short as Frank moved quickly into the small bathroom and grabbed her hair, forcing her head back, while at the same time clenching his fist and hitting her with all his might in her stomach. Karen instantly doubled up, making a grab at the shower curtain in a vain attempt to support herself, before collapsing on the shower tray and ripping the curtain from the rail. She was struggling for breath and was coughing and retching. He leaned into the shower, turning the water on before following her down. The water was getting in her mouth and up her nose as she gasped for breath.

"You're going to leave this house in one of two ways: Either I beat the fuck out of you or you come quietly," Frank demanded, his face inches from hers.

Karen, still coughing and spluttering under the force of the water, struggled round and looked directly at him. She spat in his face. "You can piss off, I'm going nowhere with you," she retorted.

Frank grinned at her. "You are, girl, you fucking are," he demanded, at the same time reaching down and grasping at her knickers, in a vain attempt to drag her out of the shower.

Karen grimaced at his efforts, but she'd no intention of submitting. With one arm trapped under her body, she used the other hand to try and blind him by pushing her fingers into his eyes. Failing at this, she went for his ear, trying to rip it off. But with her hand wet, his ear slipped out of her grasp and she succeeding only in dragging her sharp nails down his cheek. Frank screamed in pain, releasing her to put his hands to his face. This was the break she needed and she quickly scrambled clear in an attempt to get to the door.

Karen gave a scream as he leaned over and grabbed one of her legs, sending her sprawling. He tried to hold her down by throwing all his body weight across her, but he'd the same problem as her, still wet from his drenching, she slipped easily from under him, at the same time grasping at a small table by the toilet to give her extra balance. Bottles and cans flew in all directions. Karen grabbed a can, spraying the contents in Frank's face. It was hair-spray and he spat at her as it touched the injuries she'd made with her nails. With his arms flailing and trying to stop the spray in the small bathroom, he caught her across the head, sending her flying once again into the shower.

"Right, you little bastard, you've asked for it now. I'm going to beat the shit out of you," he screamed, at the same time unfastening his belt.

Karen, still sprawled in the shower, cowered back as the belt was raised, and then seconds later the buckle crashed down, missing her by inches and smashing tiles. As he raised it again, Karen didn't wait for the outcome; she shot out of the shower, crashing her full body weight into him. With his arm raised, Frank lost balance and fell back onto the toilet, smashing the pan. She kicked out, catching him between the legs. That was enough; he rolled up in a ball, the pain of the kick reverberating through his body. Karen scrambled away, yanking the door open before falling outside. She pulled herself up and stumbled, rather than ran; but at that moment, Susan, initially frightened with all the noise, had plucked up enough courage to come and see what was going on. She burst out of her door, barging straight into Karen. Frank, in close pursuit, made a grab at Karen, missed, and caught Susan squarely in the face with his fist. The impact smashed the other side of her head against the door post, and she sank slowly to the floor. Karen scrambled over her, making for the stairs, and, she hoped, freedom.

Grabbing at the front door and finding it locked, she cursed, and then turned and ran through to the back but found that also was locked. Now desperate, she looked at the closed window but couldn't find anything heavy enough to break it with.

At that moment the door from the hall crashed open. "Try to blind me, would you? Now you'll pay for it."

Karen spun round. Frank was stood holding onto the door, blood running down his face. She glanced desperately round the room for a weapon and saw a set of knives in a wooden block on the work surface. Frank saw the knives as well and they both made for them at the same time.

Karen, being closer, won, and pulling the largest knife from the block, she turned to face him. "You're dead if you come any closer," she screamed.

He grinned at her. "Give it your best shot, kid. I'll have it out of your hands in seconds then I'll show you what a knife can really do to a pretty face like yours. I wasn't in the army for nothing!" and he followed the comments with a forced laugh.

She was frightened at these words, and on the edge of panic, tears streamed from her eyes. The fight had shocked her. She'd been to self-defence classes and had even achieved a brown belt, but they hadn't prepared her for reality. There had been lots of room; they'd fought under strict conditions, even with a knife. However, the reality of a stranger threatening to take the knife off her and cut her up, terrified her. Faced with this, the trainer's recommendation to get a weapon, which she had done, was now going sour.

Frank watched her falling apart. She looked nervous, undecided, the arm holding the knife slowly dropping. This was his chance. Lunging forward, Karen saw him coming and raised the knife instantly, catching the pit of his arm. Frank, in pain, pulled back from her and this success spurred her on to go for him again. This time, however, he was ready and punched her hard in the stomach. She fell back, gasping for breath. He was on top of her instantly, at the same time wrenching at the hand holding the knife. She wasn't done yet, and with her other hand she grabbed his ear. This time her hands were dry and she began yanking and twisting it in an effort to rip the ear from his head. Frank was shouting at her to let go as he still tried in vain to get the knife from her other hand. He fell back, in pain from her attack on his ear and Karen struggled away. She was back in control and was not prepared to give in, crawling along the floor before pulling herself up with the help of the door handle and stumbling into the hall. Aware the front door was locked, her only way was up and to barricade herself into a bedroom, so she made for the stairs.

Frank, regaining his balance, grabbed a milk bottle from the side, before following her. He raced up the stairs, catching up as she reached the landing, and made a grab at Karen's t-shirt in a desperate bid to stop her. She was halted in her tracks, stumbling back as he pulled her t-shirt. Then he hit her over the head with the milk bottle and Karen slumped down, unconscious. He knelt at her side and checked her breathing. She was still alive. The girl had given him a hell of a fight and he needed to take stock. Moments later, he dragged her back down the stairs into the kitchen. Quickly, he pulled her t-shirt up over her head and then back down, pinning her arms behind her and tying it in a makeshift knot.

He then stood and looked down at her. "Right, you little shit, let's see you escape Frankie now," he hissed. Walking to the sink and filling a bowl with cold water, he threw the contents at her. Seconds later she came round, coughing and spluttering as the mass of water got up her nose.

"Had enough, kid, or do you want me to take the strap to your bottom?"

"What do you want to do... kill me... is that it?" she gasped.

Frank forced a laugh. She'd had it and all he needed was to dent her ego. "Kill you?" He sniggered and then continued aggressively. "I'm not going to kill you, but believe me today's a day you'll wish I had, that I can promise."

She didn't understand his words. "So what do you want?"

"You'll know in good time. But first you've got a choice. Go like that, just in your pants, or agree not to struggle anymore and I'll let you dress. You see, Karen, you and I need to go for a little ride. We've, or rather you've, a date with a ship, and it won't wait."

She lay there not answering, so Frank moved closer, kicking her in the side. Karen winced at the pain but still didn't reply. He dropped down, his face inches from hers. Karen cowered back, at the same time struggling to release the knot in the t-shirt behind her back, out of his sight. But it was hopeless as the knot was too tight.

"Five seconds and you go like this. Otherwise you agree to come without any trouble and I'll let you dress."

There was no way out so Karen agreed. At least, she'd decided, there would be time to plan her escape. As it was, with only knickers on, she felt distinctly embarrassed, apart from extremely vulnerable, and he could inflict pain on her body too easily. He untied the t-shirt before standing, allowing her space. She dragged herself up with difficulty, the pain in her stomach making her gasp for breath between bouts of coughing.

He watched and waited till she'd stopped then grabbed her arm. "Now dress quickly, then we go."

With her head throbbing from the blow and the intense pain in her stomach, Karen struggled, clinging to the banister as she climbed the stairs. He followed her up, watching, while she pulled on her jeans and lace-up boots. Convinced now there was no fight left in her, Frank turned away, glancing at Susan. She'd begun to stir. Blood was streaming from a badly cut cheek, her jaw broken after hitting the door post. She just lay on the floor staring up at Frank, the pain so intense she couldn't speak.

Frank moved closer to her. "I told you to stay in the bedroom, didn't I? Now listen well. Tell Karen's father Frank Whittle was here, he'll understand."

He stood and Susan stupidly made a grab at his leg, more for help, than to try to stop him. But Frank glared down at her, giving her a kick in the ribs and another and another, all the time Susan screaming in pain. Then he burst into laughter. "Take a good look," he shouted behind him, "piss me off and I'll break your fucking jaw like Susan's, and that's before kicking the shit out of you. So finished or not, get yourself out here."

Karen, already dressed, made her way past Susan without looking down or saying a word. Where she was going she'd no idea. She now realised this girl had set her up and she hated her for it. At the bottom of the stairs Karen waited by the front door. Frank ran down and told her to place her hands inside the top of her jeans, then he wrenched her belt up tight. Removing a cord from his pocket, he bound it round her, trapping her arms close to her body.

Opening the front door, Frank grasped Karen's hair. "Try to run or shout, kid, and I'll lay you out so fast you'll not know what hit you." He gave a quick look around; the road they were on was deserted, so he urged her forward. At the car he pulled open the passenger door and pushed her inside. He leaned in and unfastened her belt, slipping it out from round her waist. "Get your legs out straight," he demanded.

She did as he asked and he reached down, taking the belt round her legs and threading it through the buckle before pulling it tight, gripping her ankles. He turned to look at her, his face inches from hers. "That'll stop you running. Try it and see how far you get."

Grasping the safety belt, he pulled it harshly across her chest, before clipping the clasp. Then he moved his hand onto her midriff between the jeans and short t-shirt. She winced and he grinned. "Bit sensitive, eh? Still hurts, does it? I want to see your hands inside your jeans at all times. Try to pull them out and I'll punch this little stomach of yours and believe me it'll hurt, perhaps do permanent damage. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

She shook her head and was beginning to feel sick again just at the thought. Frank climbed into the driver's seat and minutes later they were heading out of the city.

***

It was nearly an hour later when Susan's father arrived home. The front door was wide open, which seemed strange. Entering the house he sensed something was wrong. Shouting first for Susan, then Grandma, he ran up the stairs. Gran was cradling Susan on her lap; the girl was lying motionless on the floor, blood all over her face. Gran knew something was wrong but in her confusion could do nothing about it. He knelt down, gently pushing Gran away, before holding Susan in his arms.

She stirred and opened her eyes; the pain in her chest and face was intense. "Dad?" she whispered.

He moved closer.

"You've got to call the police..." she gasped. "I think he's going to kill her."