Page 86 of Deliverance
We all looked at each other.
"I can do it," Leanne offered. "But we can't do it from here, obviously."
"Wait," I interjected. "Are we all ready for this?"
"Of course we are," Krissy answered.
"I mean about the new story."
"All the bad people are dead. Frankie let us go, Zell killed Madam, and none of us will ever turn her in, and I think we can all say we're glad Frank is dead too," Carla stated. "I'm going with the story Ric told us, and I'm moving on. I know my captors are dead."
"What about the men who did the actual kidnapping?" Clarissa asked.
"That's on Frankie," Leanne indicated.
"I agree," I said.
"Then let's go home." Krissy smiled warmly.
We came up with a plan to run to the closest house, and then we all hugged, not knowing what was to come and when we would see each other again. That was the sad part because these women had become like family. Over the years, I had known more of them, and it sickened me to think about what they were doing—ornotdoing. I had to keep telling myself that it was over—or at least the Russo Empire was—because it didn't sound as though Frankie would continue it. He’d wanted to kill his father, had tried to burn down the warehouse, and maybe even had fallen in love.
Since the plan was for us to have escaped, we all took off running down the long driveway. We ran the opposite direction we came in from because Ric and Frankie had gone that way to leave, and we didn't want a neighbor or anyone to say they had seen them.
The closest house wasn't that close, and by the time Martin pounded on the door, we were all out of breath. "Please help us!"
A few moments later it opened, and a man with graying hair stood before us with wide eyes. "Please," Krissy begged. "We just escaped from being held prisoner. We need to call the police."
"Yes, of course." The man opened the door wider, and we rushed in. "Where did you come from?"
"The house down the road and on the lake," I answered. "Saffron Russo's home."
His brow furrowed. "Saffron Russo? I thought she moved to the city."
Shit.
"We were being sold for sex in that house," Carla indicated.
"Jesus," the man breathed. He pulled out his cell phone. "Let me call the cops."
I breathed a little easier, knowing this man was calling the police, and it wasn't going to be one of us who would have to lie on the 9-1-1 tape.
The gentleman explained what was happening to the dispatcher, and when he hung up, he asked, "Can I get you all water while we wait?"
"Please," I said.
All of us followed him to his large kitchen.
We had to pretend we had been deprived, that we had been held captive. There was no food or drinks in the house, so it had to appear we were in dire need of everything even though we didn't look rundown. We could say we had been allowed to bathe, given what we were there to do for clients. Food had to have been brought in or something since the kitchen was empty. I started to panic that the plan wasn't going to work. We didn't think about food or water in the staging, and there was no trash to indicate we’d had any food brought in by Madam.
But then I realized, did it matter? The cops wouldn't need to investigate that, would they? I had been missing for ten years. There had to be a missing person's report on me. There had to be one on each of us. We had all been missing for years, and why would the police suspect we were lying about anything?
I couldn't take a chance, though.
"Thank you." I took a glass of water from the man. "Madam brings in food for us once a day, and she lets us have water, but we hadn't eaten today before everything happened."
"What did happen?" he asked.
"We're not sure," Leanne said. "All we heard was gunfire."
