Page 12 of Chief's Addiction

He lifted his booted foot and rammed it against the door. It flexed with a loud boom but held. He kicked again, this time with more force, and the frame separated from the wall.

“Goddamn,” he hissed, shaking out his hand after managing to unlock the door through the gap. “That’s reinforced steel.”

“Smart choice for the door. Stupid they didn’t make sure it was secured to something equally as strong,” I thought out loud as I squeezed through the opening.

With my gun ready, I found myself standing at the top of a dark staircase. The stench of human waste wafted up the steps.

“What the fuck?” I pulled the neck of my shirt up over my nose as unease pooled in my gut.

I motioned for Dread to follow behind me as I descended the stairs. I had a really bad fucking feeling.

When I got to the bottom, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

The basement was a lot bigger than I expected, with concrete walls and a dirt floor. Wrought iron cage-like structures lined both sides of the space with a narrow walkway running right down the center. Each cage had thin mattresses on the floor and a five-gallon bucket pushed off to the side.

And huddled at the back of those cages.

Were women.

Young, terrified women.

“Jesus Christ,” Dread whispered, moving in beside me and lowering his weapon.

I started to count. One. Two… There were six of them and they were in bad shape.

I’d seen a lot of shit in my forty-six years, but the sight of the empty, vacant stares on their faces… I knew, whatever’d been done to them, it was fucking bad.

I holstered my gun and approached slowly, hands raised in a way that I hoped conveyed that I only wanted to help. “We’re not here to hurt you,” I kept my voice low despite the fury building inside me. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Not a single woman responded.

“Dread, get Morpheus down here,” I said, careful not to spook the wide-eyed woman watching me. “And find the keys to these cages.”

He nodded and sprinted back up the stairs. I scanned the room, taking in the full scope of the nightmare we’d stumbled upon.

There was a metal table with restraints on the opposite side of the space. Cameras were mounted on tripods.

What the absolute fuck?

“It’s gonna be okay,” I said, knowing the words didn’t mean shit. “We’re going to help you.”

A blonde with a bruised face finally met my eyes. “Are you a cop?” Her voice was flat, devoid of any hope.

“No, darlin’. Not a cop,” I answered hearing the sound of boots thundering down the stairs.

Morpheus appeared first and then Rage moved in beside him. Their eyes were the size of saucers as they took in the room.

“Motherfucking Christ,” Morpheus breathed.

My thoughts exactly.

Rage’s mouth opened but nothing came out. He, too, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“We gotta get them out of there and get the fuck gone before the cops show up.”

Morpheus looked around the space and made a beeline for the desk in the corner. He yanked open the top drawer and riffled through whatever shit was inside. “Got 'em,” he called, holding up a ring of keys.

---