Page 58 of Kandie Shoppe

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Saban, one of the El Diablo girls asks, her braids pulled back into a huge bun at the nape at the back of her head. Our hair is the only difference. She’s dressed the same as I, in all black. Well, one more difference is the black camouflage she’s used to deflect the moonlight.

“Same as you obviously,” I say, looking back at the warehouse.

“You know what they’re doing out here?” I ask.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here, merdé.” I quirk my brow at her. I don’t know what that French word is, but it sounds like a lot of sass.

“Watch your mouth, lil’ girl.” Pulling my flask out, I take a swig handing it to her before pulling it back. “You twenty-one yet?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. The way she takes my bedazzled flask to the head, I can tell she’s a veteran when it comes to liquor.

“I can get us closer.” Motioning for me to follow her she disappears into the woods.

“We can go in now,” Saban mutters. The chill of the night is eating through my clothes.

Not even from this vantage point could we see inside of the warehouse. That does nothing to alleviate the piercing dread spreading over me. I hear voices. They are muffled. People are in there. Probably kids as well.

“Come on.” This girl is clever. She brought us right up to the building with none of the lookouts being the wiser. I wonder ather ability to evade notice but now is not the time to question her. Not that she’d tell me anyway, El Diablo is her family. Angel’s sister, Lourdes, is her bestie. Plus, the intensity and hurt she hasn’t been able to hide as she watched Snake, El Diablo’s second-in-command as he left on his bike, is not lost on me.

She makes quick work of the lock. She pulls a black knit cap over her head. “Here. I always keep an extra.” Handing me the twin, she waits until I pull on the cap. We pull our hoodies up to cover the remainder of our hair and head in.

Taking row after row of kid in, one thing I know for sure is — I hate Ulysses the child trafficker Shelby with every fiber of my being. May he bust hell open with gasoline drawers on.

“Merdè.” This time the word holds so much horror. I know I’m not alone in my feelings. The children ranging from toddler to young adult lie as still as possible in their beds. As if they are scared to even move.

“What are they doing to these kids?” The plaintive tone in my voice has Saban turning on me with a wrathful gaze.

“I’m sure the same thing they did to y’all in that home I heard you burned to the ground.” Acid drops from her voice. It’s not directed at me but to those who betrayed these kids. I don’t need to hear her story to know it. His past is as dark as mine.

“The fact that he could be part of this after—” she cuts herself off with a bitter laugh and shake of her head. “Estipid.”

“We have to get them out of here,” I say when we get to the rear of the rows of beds. There is a door here and a light spilling under the door.

Pushing the door open, I see the two rows of beds. Girls are lined up in two groups of four on either side of the room.

The light is low, but one of the girls is sitting up in the bed. She rushes to tuck the book under her pillow.

“Senorita,” I say going over to her, lifting my mask so she can see what I hope looks to be a friendly face. “No halbla inglais,”she says before I can ask questions. She looks frantically around like she’s afraid one of the other girls is going to snitch on her to their captors.

This is how they divide and conquer. Make them distrust one another, solidifying their power and control over their lives. I lived it way longer than I should. Bishop Smith would use the most basic of freedoms or favors to get kids to reveal any resistance amongst the ranks. Kerania’s and my intuitiveness about each other made his efforts futile, which was why he chose more brutal tactics each time.

“Good, since we’re speaking Spanish,” Saban cuts in and starts a rapid set of questions that I have a hard time catching up with.

“Slow down, I’m not as fluent at you.” Nudging her shoulder, I turn to whisper in her ear. “And calm the hell down. If you speak with authority, they will think we have the authority to help them.” She turns back to the kid. “Who did this to you?” Saban nods toward her form in the bed.

“The men who brought us over here and then the men when we got here.” She picks down at the covers with trembling fingers, not wanting to meet our eyes. Like their fucking shame was hers. I want to kill all of them.

“T-then.” She wipes her running nose. I reach over to the bedside that has a box of tissues for her and the girl opposite to share and give it to her. After she finishes, she looks at us with a determination. “They raped us. Then the sheriff brought the doctor to get the babies out.”

Still, as a statue, I listen as she recounts more of the horrors they’ve had to endure. “It was the guys in devil vests,” one of the other girls chimes in when more of the girls become brave enough to tell us their stories.

“We are going to get you out of here today.” Pulling out my phone, I call the only person with as much power as the men whosecretly run this town, since all the ones here, including the evil motherfucker I gave my body to is as mean as they come.

“LL, there is something I need you to do right now, no questions. Just actions.” The line is silent for a moment. I swallow. I never ask for help. Never accept it when it’s offered. I wait for him to pick his jaw off the floor.

“Anything for you, Kandie-girl,” he says. I don’t know if the hesitancy is from the hour I’m calling or the awe that I’d dare ask anything.

He remains silent as I inform him of the location and the situation of the kids. If anyone can handle this, it’s him. He lives and work as a Civil Rights attorney in Montgomery and makes headlines with high-profile cases against corporations. He’s one of the main forces behind my family’s power. Stopping the Shelbys from trying to encroach on our land and lives just like his father and grandfather before him.

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