Page 37 of Justyce
To the right of red hair is a man with a shaggy black mane; both are huddled together against the decaying cement wall like that’ll protect them.Yeah, right.
To the left of the men are two women in long white nighties that cover them from head to toe. They’re sitting on wooden crates, each with a guard at their side. They haven’t noticed me yet and that’s probably a good thing. I take in their blonde and brown hair pulled up into messy buns as they lean into one and other. They look shaken, but none the less fierce. I dare say these women are welcoming what’s about to happen.
I push off the doorframe and revel in red hair’s eyes tracking my every move. I’m sure he’s heard the rumors about me, so he’s right to be scared, that’s for fucking sure.
I revel in the trepidation oozing from red hair’s and black mane’s soon to be corpses. It only excites me more. The two women look at me, hearing my footsteps descending close to them, but they don’t balk. Instead, they issue a small nod and turn back to face the perpetrators. This only serves to anger me more. It’s proof these knobjockey’s stole a little piece of their souls with whatever they did to them. And now, now they want payback.
I pay no mind to the guards beside the women. They are here for a purpose, and by the stoic look on each man’s face, they don’t need to be instructed any further.
Acheron shimmies to the left so I can step between him and Arrow. My face curls up at the sides sensing my brother’s anticipation and excitement to get this party started.
These men aren’t men you want to fuck with, and neither am I. As I focus my attention on red hair, I feel the heat and anger coil in my veins like a damn cobra ready to attack. And attack I will.
Shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, I cross my arms over my chest and decide it’s time to get the ball rolling.
“I heard you pieces of shit have been touching what doesn’t belong to you.”
“No man! They’re lying. Fucking filthy bitches are talking shit,” red hair rushes out.
My lip curls in disgust that this grown ass man can’t even admit to his fuck up, but that’ll be the least of his problems once we’re finished here.
My head cants toward the women briefly to see the anger bleeding from their bodies. They want to speak but they know better than to interrupt
My head swings back in place to face these little men, and I decide to shift my attention to black mane. “And you? What do you have to say?” I ask nonchalantly.
His face twists up into a sneer, then he spits onto the concrete not saying a word. I’d be amused if I wasn’t ready to send him off to Hades.
“Nothing to say?” I remark.
“Those bitches asked for it! Walking around in their skimpy towels after showering, flirtatious little looks, and then when we give them what they want they cry fucking wolf! Sluts!”
Blood. All I see is fucking blood as black mane shouts his thoughts. I tamper down the aggressiveness whirling through me like a hurricane and direct my attention to the two women that this weasel abused.
I know I don’t need to ask the girls what happened; however, I’ll play along with this charade even though I know how it’s going to end.
“Ladies, is this true?”
For a moment, they don’t say a word. I know their silence is what they’ve learned from their assigned masters. It seems this pair are fast learners, seeing they haven’t been here long.
“You may speak.” I want to ask their names but I know more than likely they won’t respond to the question. Once these women turn into slaves, they lose the identity of who they once were. I try not to dwell on that thought as I wait for an answer.
“No sir, that’s not what happened,” the woman with the blonde hair and blue eyes states meekly.
“Do you think you could tell me what happened?” I ask gently.
“You’re going to believe these slut slaves?” black mane yells, sounding incredulous.
That’s the second time he’s used the word slut and it sure as shit doesn’t sit well with me. “If I was you I would shut your worthless mouth because the next time you speak out of turn I will cut your fucking tongue out!”
Black mane snarls but doesn’t say another word. Content that he’ll keep his mouth shut, I turn and face the women once more.
I notice the young brunette twisting her hands together with her head down, she can’t be older than nineteen and it fucking shatters my soul that I can’t do anything to stop the destinies of either one of them.
Yes, they are sold to better men than our fathers would have sold them to, but, alas, at the end of the day they’re still bad men. Why else would they buy women for their own demented pleasure? I shake the meandering thoughts from my wayward mind and look to the brunette.
Her eyes dart to mine and I heave a ragged breath when I look into eyes that look so much like my Kenzi’s. I hadn’t noticed her eyes when I’d first walked in due to the dim light and the eagerness of ending these fuckwits lives pumping through my veins. Fear radiates behind those hues, and although I love to see this look on Kenzi, on this young girl it only makes me sick to my stomach.
Clearing the thoughts from my mind, I can’t help but notice this woman’s eyes aren’t as vivid as Kenzi’s electric blues. No one’s are. However they aren’t far off. Hers are rimmed in jade green, whereas Kenzi’s are not.
