Memphis, TN
The Medlov Compound
N adei’s heavy footfalls echoed against the shiny limestone floors as he made his way to the meeting. The dirty blonde Czech brute boasting a bulky muscular frame and menacingly attractive features had been a stickler for punctuality in his old life. But tonight, he was a few minutes late, which wasn’t like him. However, nothing was like him lately. In a period of adjustment that one could only describe as purgatory, he was learning to survive on little sleep and the expectation of having saint-like patience, while still being expected to operate as a Vor.
Standing on both sides of the door were two of the Medlov house bodyguards, quietly watching both ends of the corridor for passing traffic. When they saw Nadei stalking forcefully down the hall, they straightened up a little to receive him. Nadei might have stepped down a few pegs on the food chain, but he was still higher on it than either of them.
“Am I the last one?” he asked, grabbing the brass doorknob.
One of the men nodded a confirmation, but didn’t speak.
“Shit,” Nadei cursed, stepping inside.
He looked at the eyes as they landed on him – some judging, some sympathetic. A table full of anxious women awaited his consultation. He had to get used to this new life in all its glory, like being a full-time, single father and being moved to help this new council instead of serving at the behest of the one he truly loved. But that was his fault and this was penance. It was a small price to pay for what he had done.
“Sorry, I’m late, ladies,” he said in a Russian baritone that cut through the silence as he closed the door behind him.
“Have a seat,” the mistress of the house said, voice soft and calm. She noticed the spit up on the front of his shirt and the tiredness in his eyes. Both were familiar to her, being a mother of three.
With a nod, he obediently sat down at the table, choosing a seat close to the door. The wait staff had put out snacks and coffee, which he was grateful for after hours of trying to put his little girl down for bed himself instead of letting the nanny do it. He pulled a croissant from the pile and bit into its soft center. Women were very thorough. They thought of everything all at the same time.
Sitting in the sound-proof conference room on the first floor of her expansive mansion, Royal Medlov sipped on a steaming cup of freshly brewed Columbian coffee sweetened with just enough Jameson to give her a small, unnoticeable buzz. She knew her husband wouldn’t have approved. Drinking while planning something so ballsy might have come off as careless, but she needed the liquid courage tonight. People were counting on her, even if they didn’t know it.
After four teenage black girls from the same area of Memphis went missing in a very short period of time, Royal decided to take it upon herself and her newly formed council to find them. She had waited patiently to see what the police would produce. The Amber alerts went out on the cell phones. The news reporters did their stories. The families posted on Facebook, but there were no leads and no movement. The council, however, had a theory. The girls had not been necessarily kidnapped from their homes or snatched out of their beds in the middle of the night like traditional victims. Instead, they had been coerced to willingly leave home only to be forced to stay where they were. Such was the new tactic for human traffickers.
Well, the human traffickers who had stolen these girls were in luck, because it just so happened to be Royal’s new mission in life to rid Memphis of them.
“I apologize for pulling everyone away from their evenings so spur of the moment,” she said sincerely. “Trust me, I know we are all tired, and we have our children to tend to, but our dear Peaches is going to move on those bastards tonight.” The news brought a devious grin across Royal’s face. “She just got word to me about thirty minutes ago. I called you here to make sure that we are ready, if she needs us.”
Royal had intended to curl up in bed with the kids and watch the fight tonight, but after receiving a call that her girl had successfully infiltrated a new cell of human traffickers, she had called an emergency meeting of the newly formed Medlov Women’s Council to ensure that the operation was carried out successfully. Since they were in the early stages of their council, it was important to be thorough and vigilant, and because the work that they did was very important to so many people who could not fight for themselves, they had to be brutal.
Joining her at the table and equally as tired were Lilly, the wife of Vasily Kavlov, Valeriya, the wife of Gabriel Medlov, their newly acquired lawyer, to their cause loaned from Dmitry’s own camp, Nadei.
Many years ago, Royal had been raped by her husband’s psychotic brother. Lilly had been beaten and nearly killed by her first husband. Valeriya had lived in a world of horrors and Renee simply did not want to sit idly by and do nothing in a world that was literally burning around them. The council was the only thing that made sense. Their husbands were billionaires with unbelievable resources around them.
Valeriya sat to the immediate right of Royal at the long wooden conference table in her pajamas. When she first got the text from Royal, she was about to get into the tub after putting her infant son down for the evening. Deciding against wasting time, she came from the west wing of the compound as she was, much like everyone in the room based on the other nightclothes and robes in the room.
“That was quick,” Valeriya said, pushing back in her wing-backed chair. Peaches had only been on the case for a week. “Are we absolutely sure that they haven’t made her?” she looked over at Nadei, since he had been quarterbacking most of this.
Valeriya was a freedom fighter, used to life or death situations in much harsher terrain, but she also knew when to lead and when to follow. This council only asked that she follow, which was fine by her. At least she still got a chance to fight back against the world’s evil doers in some way. When Royal first came to her with the idea of the council, she thought it ingenious and had been excited about it ever since. Plus, it gave her access to resources to help those still fighting in her home country of Ukraine.
“She hasn’t been made,” Nadei answered, quickly. “We made sure to cover our bases. Peaches has been trained well.” He wouldn’t get into it now, but he had seen the girl’s wet work skills, and she was nothing, if not lethal. He was certain that she could do this job with her eyes closed.
“How many of them is she targeting tonight?” Lilly asked, feeling the need to chime in, even though she wasn’t sure that she had anything to offer at this point in the conversation.
“All of them,” Royal answered, brows raised. “She said that all four of the girls are there for the time being, but she’s not sure after tonight if she’ll get another opportunity to save them. They go on the auction block tomorrow.” She ran her index finger down the shiny wooden surface of the table. “It’s now or never.”
“Well, then if we can’t do anything but sit here and wait, the least we can do is pray,” Lilly said, making the sign of the cross as she bowed her head.
***
Memphis, TN
Elvis Presley Boulevard
The Black River Hotel
Some hotels on Elvis Presley Boulevard were cheap but clean with patrons from out of town who simply wanted to be in walking distance of Graceland and other local tourist stops. The businesses boasted neon signs, well-lit parking spaces, clean rooms and often guarded-entry to ward off the criminal element.
Other hotels on the strip were reserved for the more illegal variety and didn’t bother with being tidy or respectable. They rented by the hour, spot-cleaned the rooms intermediately, rarely advertised and never bothered their sullied guests with things like identification checks or house rules. When things got out of control on their property, the cops were called only after the shots were fire, the witnesses left and bodies were cold.
The Black River Hotel was one of those seedy hotels. Known city-wide for its rampant prostitution and cheap drugs, no one who wasn’t looking to get laid or score even darkened the doorsteps of its business. It was the perfect breeding ground for pimps, whores, druggies and runaways – right off the expressway, close to several truck-stops and only miles away from the state line. In an effort to curtail crime, it had been shut down by the district attorney a few times over the years for being a public nuance, but it always seemed to reopen after a month or two under a new owner who saw the potential in the prime real estate of not only the land and buildings but also the human collateral.
The newest owner of the hotel was no saint. Paid by local pimps to be a facilitator of their transactions and pimps across the country to be on their circuits, the Indian businessman fresh in from New Delhi, looked the other way when girls came in bloody and crying, checked in by their pimps and bottom bitches to be tuned up before she turned her next trick.
He had made a killing off human trafficking since he bought the establishment, nearly tripling his investment in less than a year. Every time he booked a room, all he saw was cash to the bottom line – most of which went unreported to the IRS, which was why when the four missing Black girls that the entire city of Memphis was looking for came rolling in with a notorious female pimp named Tenisha who had made him thousands of dollars over the last year, he turned his head and gave them a room key with no questions asked.
The small crew had been holed up for nearly a day in the double-queen room toward the back of the hotel away from prying eyes and curious wanderers who might have reported them to 525-CASH for the money. It was tight sleeping quarters but the four teenage girls slept on the floor in huddle along with a straggler they had picked up on Third Street who was running renegade until Tenisha recruited her the night before.
The bodyguards traded turns on the bed closest to the door and Tenisha slept alone.
However, as the hours passed, the tension grew. What was meant to be an exchange that would take place in eight hours had turned into a full day.
“These motherfuckers be playing too much!” the twenty-five-year-old Tenisha Griffin said, throwing down her cell phone on the bed. Her contact was supposed to have been here nearly an hour ago, but they continued to be held up by business across the river in Arkansas. “I’m losing money by the hour having these girls locked up in this damn hotel room. Shit, I could at least put them on the kiddie stroll for a few nights to make a little change.”
“Mane, Tenisha, just chill out,” one of her bodyguards, Rico, said, stretching out his palms to her. He had known her for years, worked the streets with her, served time for her. The least she could do was trust him. Standing six feet four inches tall with a wall of a chest and skin as a dark as night, the failed football player tried to reason with her before she got out of control. “They said they coming, they coming.” He knew how she could get about her money, but he also knew that his contact would come through. “Keith said he had some other girls to pick up in Little Rock. Once he’s done, he’ll be here to get these girls. We can cash out and move on, but you need to chill.”
What could she do at this point but wait? The missing girls were on everyone’s radar. To try to move them through some other connection might mean a setup, thus jail time, which she had avoided completely so far. And if she got rid of the girls – dumped them in a ditch somewhere or in the Mississippi River, she’d be down significantly in her cash flow.
Frustrated with her options, she ran her long, spiked nails through her blonde box braids and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, well, they better not be fucking me off. I passed up two other trade ups on these bitches to sell to your boy. Keeping it hundred, if he don’t come through, it’s on you,” she seethed, casting Rico a dirty look.
Tenisha was known for one thing – making good on her word. And family or not, if she lost out on this deal, she was going to take it out on Rico’s ass. She’d been in the business since she was ten years old. Her mother sold her to a pimp for crack before she had her first period. Later, the man who once was her Daddy had become her mentor and showed her all the tricks of the trade.
After she was able to pay her exit fee at seventeen, she swore one thing – that she’d always be in control of her own destiny. Instead of going to college and choosing to get out of the game, she instead built her own stable and start selling off girls across the country.
In short, she knew what she was doing. It was only a fluke the girls she had recruited this time had families who were pushing their daughter’s stories to the media. Before Facebook became a weapon, her job had been easy. Girls didn’t suspect someone so young.
Tenisha trolled local high schools, often pretending to be one of them, to gain their trust. She’d get the girls hooked on hanging out late nights, drinking and drugging when they were supposed to be in class, and defying their parents at every turn. If need be, she’d even slip them in to local clubs and introduce them to older men with money. After a few interactions, she’d suggest that they run away from home and stop listening to their parents all together. She’d paint some story of freedom and excitement where they were the authors of their own stories, but in actuality they were entering into a world of slavery.
When the girls finally left home, Tenisha had an iron-clad model that she used. She’d let the girls spend the first night partying. The second night, she’d hook them up with a sexual encounter for money without their knowledge to see if they were capable of having sex with a stranger. The third night when the girl wanted to go home, she’d bring in her boys and inform them they weren’t going anywhere. This normally was a reality check for the naive teens. They would have run up a tab with the local drug dealer and owe her for clothes, room and board. She’d throw some numbers at them and tell them they could leave if they settled up first. Not one teenage girl she had met so far could afford the hefty tab. When the girl tried to leave, she’d suffer a head cut, better known as a beat down. Bloody and scared out of their minds, the girls would suffer the wrath of her boys by being passed around and forced to do the unspeakable. By the fifth night, they were scared as hell and unwilling to try to flee. By then, Tenisha would have bids already out and within hours, the girls would be sold off to a pimp or a john in another city and become someone else’s problem.
Most would assume that because she had lived the brutal life, she’d be against it, but Tenisha felt that if she could survive at the age of ten, so could they as teenagers.
No mercy. No regret.
It just so happened that all of her efforts had not been in vain, even though the sale of the four girls might not pan out. While she was always looking at the high schools for girls to turn out, she kept a close eye on the normal ho-strolls around the city. Over the last two weeks, a little girl named Peaches had been working Third Street alone and gaining more and more attention for her appeal.
Peaches was easy money. Thin, tall, small breasts, high cheek bones, a little ass with wide hips, the girl knew the street but didn’t have the miles to show it. She had a medium brown complexion with natural brown hair that she wore up in pixie ponytail and bright brown eyes that she highlighted with pink sparkly shadow. While other girls wore gym shoes, Peaches wore heels all day every day. She also had the body for the short shorts and tank tops she donned every night. To top it off, the cops liked her. They stopped and talked to her every once in a while, but they never picked her up. Most would have assumed that it was because she was a plant, but Tenisha had a cop on the inside who confirmed that she was just a working girl.
If she wasn’t a snitch and she didn’t have a pimp, as far as Tenisha was concerned, Peaches was free game. She sent Rico to play the john first. He brought her back to the hotel, paid for a blow job and then an hour later, Tenisha burst in with her trusty Smith and Wesson knife, a bottle of acid and three bodyguards.
After taunting her for a while first, she gave Peaches the same two options she gave every girl. Work for her or be carved like a pumpkin. Naturally, Peaches opted for the less violent of the two.
Now, Tenisha was going to sell her with the four girls, if the deal went through, to a guy who traveled the south giving private parties to high rollers with a penchant for teenage whores. However, if that didn’t work out, she could always put Peaches on the street herself and give her a quota. Either way, it was a win-win.
***
Peaches passed one of the girls a napkin to wipe her tears. Sitting in the corner, between the queen-sized bed farthest from the door and the wall, she watched each of the four men carefully while they called themselves watching the door. In truth, they were looking out of the window and brandishing their guns. The verdict was still out on if they knew how to use them properly.
Amateurs. The lot of them.
Rico, the head of muscle for Tenisha’s little hodge-podge crew, was getting high on a blunt while he periodically peaked out of the window and played Candy Crush on his cell phone. It was a bad move for a man who was supposed to be ready to fight at any time. In about ten minutes, when he needed to be quick on the draw, the marijuana would slow down his reflexes at by at least ten seconds. That could possibly cost him his life.
One of the men wore a second-hand gun holster on his right side even though he was right handed, which made his gun about as useful as tits on a bull if he needed to quickly reach for it.
The other two knuckle heads were local gang bangers who probably had never fought one-on-one ever in their lives. They had laid their guns on the table while they played cards, assuming that the little girls they were holding hostage were no physical threat.
The only time Tenisha wore a gun period was during a sale. With a four-man bodyguard team that was always packing, the extra muscle made her feel invincible, especially with those who couldn’t defend themselves. Instead, she kept a sharp little knife stuffed in her front pocket where everyone could see it. Over the years, she had used it enough to think that she was good with a blade, but the false sense of power would be her downfall tonight.
“Bitch, keep crying and Imma stick a dick your mouth,” Tenisha threatened one of the teens, who had been crying for her mother for about three hours straight.
Peaches put her hand on the girl’s thigh to silence her sobs and calm the girl down. She knew they were afraid, but she had to keep them calm if her plan was going to play out without a hitch.
The girl sniffled and wiped her face. Not used to being manhandled, she lashed out despite her situation. “I just want to go home,” she cried, trembling with fear. “Just let me go home!”
“You ain’t going nowhere!” Tenisha screamed, spit flying out of her mouth. She pushed up from the bed on her feet and stalked over to the girls lined up on the wall. Seeing them their helpless and afraid only made her feel stronger. “Say something else!” she screamed, raising her hand at the crying girl. “I dare you!”
The other three girls held on to each other quietly, trying hard not to upset their captor again. Tenisha was a monster. They had all suffering beatings by hear hand over the last week and were covered in bruises. However, she had promised them that if she wanted, things could always get worse.
The defiant girl rolled her eyes at Tenisha. Unlike the others, her spirit had not yet been broken. “I hate you,” she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Tenisha coiled back and slapped the girl in the eye with her open hand. The sound echoed around the room. “You hate me?” She hit her again, this time harder. “How you like me now, bitch?” Balling up her fist, she punched the girl in the mouth for good measure. Blood ran down the girl’s mouth onto her torn shirt.
Only inches away from Tenisha, Peaches cringed at the brutal beating. These poor kids didn’t deserve this shit. She had to step in to make it stop before she did something she would regret later. “Nobody is gonna want a bloody whore,” she piped up. “She’s just scared. Leave her alone.”
Just as she had intended, Peaches drew the wrath from the poor little teenager to herself.
Tenisha bent down and eyeballed Peaches curiously. “Leave her alone? What? You her momma now?”
Peaches held her composure. She swallowed hard like she was afraid but still poked the bear. “No. I just don’t want to get caught because she’s crying. Someone might call the cops. And I already got a record. If I get busted, they not gone believe that I didn’t steal the little bitch myself.”
“So, you running things now?” Tenisha didn’t like defiance even in the smallest measure. In order to keep the other girls under control, she had to act even if Peaches had a point.
With the tilt of her head, she bit her bottom lip. “I’m not running anything, I was just saying, it’s a stupid move.” Peaches continued to eyeball Tenisha, infuriating her. She knew it was cardinal sin to stare her pimp in the face, still she did it anyway.
“So, we stupid too,” Tenisha said sardonically. Laughing, she looked back at her crew to see if they were watching. They were. Everyone in the room was sizing her up because of this bitch. She reached back and slapped Peaches in the face as hard as she could. “That’s for having a fucking opinion.”
Knowing that would not be enough, Peaches looked back up at the woman with a mouth full of blood. She continued with her reasoning. “I’m just saying that…”
Tenisha hit her again. This time, she leaned into Peaches, grabbing her by her white tank top, stained with sweat and droplets of blood, and pulled her up to her knees. Hitting her again, over and over again as hard as she could, she didn’t stop until she was winded.
Tenisha rose back up and pointed a stern finger. “All of you, shut the fuck up. One more word, and I swear to God I’ll have Rico take you in the bathroom and beat the fuck out of you! I’m not gone say that shit anymore,” she warned, certain that she had secured their attention. “That’s what’s wrong with these hoes that work the strip on their own. They don’t know how to listen and follow directions.” She glared at Peaches, face swelling from being battered. “But I’m gone teach your ass before it’s all over with. You gone learn tonight.”
Peaches nodded her obedience but didn’t speak. Everything in her wanted to lash out right then at Tenisha and claw out her eyes, but Nadei had taught her to be patient and calculating, instead of giving in to spontaneous emotion.
During the scuffle, she managed to grab Tenisha by the top of her pants. Holding on to her as she took the blows, Peaches absorbed the pain while at the same time, running her hand over Tenisha’s pants pocket to pull out the knife. She slid it in her hand before the loud, obnoxious woman could notice. Falling dramatically against the wall when the harsh reprimand was over, she eyed the guards to make sure that they hadn’t notice her pick Tenisha’s pocket. But based upon the look on their faces, none was the wiser.
Gotcha, she thought to herself, barely able to conceal a naughty smile.
The other girls whimpered in fear. Even the defiant one kept her mouth closed, avoiding contact with Tenisha or the four men who snickered at them.
As soon as Tenisha sat back down on the opposite bed and picked up her phone to check it again for the text she was waiting on, Peaches tucked the knife safely away in her back pocket, took a deep breath and spoke again. Her voice cut through the silence and baffled the girls beside her.
“When we gone get some food up in here at least. We hungry,” Peaches chided in a whiny voice. She could feel the tension thick enough to cut in the room. No one could believe that she was actually bold enough to speak again, even after being warned.
“That’s it,” Tenisha snapped, throwing her phone down again. “Rico, take that bitch in the bathroom and teach her a lesson. Don’t stop until you see the white meat. Make that ho bleed.”
Peaches pushed back in the corner away from the girls. “I’m sorry,” she begged. “Please,” she cried. “I won’t say nothing else.” She knew her pleas would fall on death ears, but she had to make it believable.
Tenisha tuned the woman’s whining out. All she wanted to hear at that moment was the sound of bones breaking. Grabbing the remote, she turned on the television and casually pulled a chicken wing from a Styrofoam container.
With a huff at the drama, Rico uprooted his overweight body from his perch by the window and slowly made his way to Peaches. He kicked the other girls up against the wall out of his way like trash. “Come on,” he growled as Peaches tried to pull away from his gorilla-like grip. Snatching her up by her slender neck after he couldn’t grab her arm, he lifted her off the floor and forcefully dragged her into the small bathroom. Slamming the door shut behind him, he turned on the vent to drown out the noise.
Peaches continued to fake cry as she looked around plotting her attack. Inhaling a deep breath of the odorous mildew coming from the pile of dirty towels in the corner and the rotting water-stained walls, she pushed up against the back of the tub, giving herself two feet of space from Rico.
“Why you gotta be a mouthy bitch, huh?” he asked, wrapping a hand towel around his knuckles and pulling out a roll of quarters. He’d learned to muffle the sound and harden the punch with this simple technique. Sighing, he shook his head. “Now, I gotta beat your ass when we could have just sat there and waited like folks with some sense.” Enforcing wasn’t one of the finer points of his job, but it was a staple of it. He did it without protest or emotion.
“You don’t have to do this, Rico,” Peaches said loud enough for everyone outside of the bathroom to hear. She eyed the snub-nose 38 in his waistband and stealthily put her hands behind her. Undetected, she pulled the knife from her pocket and popped it open. Stuttering, she tried to bargain with the large man. “We’re cool remember. Instead of getting that blowjob the other day, all we did was talk. Remember?” Her eyes darted around the room, but she stayed perfectly still. “I can give you that blowjob now, and we can call it even.”
Rico clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and rolled his neck. They all begged when it was their time to pay the piper. Peaches was no different. “Sorry, baby girl. You heard the boss lady. Gotta teach you a lesson.” He liked Peaches alright. She seemed nice and easy to talk to when no one was around, but business was business. She had to bleed.
Pursing his lips together, he took a step forward with his left leg for balance and reached back with his right fist to gain momentum. As soon as he swung taking aim for her delicate face, Peaches ducked, barely missing his fist by a hair’s breadth. At the same time, in one smooth motion, she sidestepped him and jabbed the small serrated blade into the front of his neck, slicing through an artery and his larynx, making it impossible for him to scream out.
They made eye contact for a few brief seconds and in that suspended time, he saw what he had missed before – a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Peaches didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, didn’t react. She glared at him with absolute impassivity.
The shock on his contorted face was unmistakable. His watering eyes bulged in fear, knowing that he had met his end too soon.
While Rico fought to take his last breaths, Peaches impatiently snatched the gun from his waistband and pushed him out of her way. He fell to his knees and drooped over on the seat of the unflushed toilet, bleeding out on the floor as his eyes faded over a bowl of piss.
Without thought, Peaches snatched the blade out of his neck and rubbed it on the back of his shirt to clean it off. She slipped it in the back pocket of her jean shorts again and checked the gun for bullets.
A glance in the mirror caught her attention for a minute. Oh, what a sight. After all the tousling earlier, her face was left bruised, upper lip swollen and bottom lip bloody, her bright brown eyes puffy and chest covered in nail marks. The sight infuriated her, and someone had to pay.
A rush of adrenaline shot through her body as she grabbed the knob. There could be anything waiting on the other side. Either she had moved quick enough that they would never know what hit them, or they would be locked and loaded and she’d have to shoot her way out. No matter what, this ended tonight as she had promised her boss, Royal.
Opening the bathroom door, she calmed her breathing and came out with Rico’s gun pointed. The first thing she heard was Tenisha’s booming laugh.
“Damn, you done already, Rico?” she asked, looking up to see Peaches standing at the back of the room with a triumphant smile on her face.
“Rico’s definitely done,” she said, left eye twitching.
For a split second, all that could be heard was the sound of the air conditioning unit blasting cold air through its vents.
“Shit!” yelled the bodyguard with the holster on the wrong side. He tried to reach for his weapon but was far too slow.
Peaches was nothing if not a good aim. Pulling the hair trigger before the men could move from their seated positions, she mowed them down like they were bottles on a fence. She shot the holster boy first, dead center in his head. The other two she caught in the chest and back before they could get to the table. Three shots in three seconds. It was mechanical for her after doing it so long.
In an act of sheer desperation, Tenisha dove for the sawed-off shotgun in the corner, but Peaches shot her in the thigh. She fell just a few inches short of the gun, but started to crawl towards it as she cried.
How the mighty fall, Peaches thought to herself. Just a few short minutes ago, the glorified bully was content with herself beating the hell out of helpless children for kicks, and now she looked pathetic crawling on the stain-filled carpet like the slug she was.
“Grab that gun, and I blow your head clean off, bitch,” Peaches said, kneeling down to put the barrel of the gun to the back of Tenisha’s head. It was a shame how much she was enjoying this.
“Alright, alright,” Tenisha said, putting her hands beside her. Her nostrils flared in defeat. The pain radiated through her body causing her to push her head down in the carpet and growl. “Fuck that hurts,” she said, absently.
There was no mercy now. No regret for Peaches.
“Get up,” Peaches ordered.
“I can’t. You shot me.”
“Get up now or I’ll shoot you in your worthless cunt.” Moving in front of Tenisha and between her and the shotgun, Peaches trained her gun on the woman’s face. “Make one wrong move, and it’s a closed-casket funeral like your friend over there.”
Tenisha glanced over at her lifeless bodyguard. His brains were plastered all over the sun-bleached curtains and the bullet had blown out one of his eyes.
“I won’t tell you again,” Peaches hissed in a near whisper.
Slowly, Tenisha stood up, balancing her weight on her good leg and keeping her hands were Peaches could see them. “Who are you?” she asked, certain the woman wasn’t a prostitute. “My competition send you? Whatever they paying, I’ll pay double.” Her brown eyes were wild with desperation. “I’ve got a hundred thousand dollars tucked away. It’s yours, if you let me walk.”
Peaches eyed the pockets of Tenisha’s jeans. “Got the money on you?” she asked for her own amusement.
Tenisha’s brow furrowed. “I can get it.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo. All you pimps say the same thing.” Motioning with the gun, she made Tenisha move back toward the bathroom. “Let’s go,” she said, pushing her in the back.
Hobbling, past the girls, who were still in the corner holding each other, she went to the back of the room and stood beside the closet. When she looked inside of the bathroom at Rico slumped over on the floor, she snarled, anger boiling in her belly. “Bitch, you better kill me.”
“Oh, I am.” Pulling the trigger, Peaches shot the woman center mass in the chest. Her body flew back against the wall and slid down to the floor. Gasping for air, she looked up at Peaches in surprise. Touching her chest, she pulled her hands away and looked at her blood-stained fingers. Years of pimping had made her a genius with words when needed. As a result, she half-expected an opportunity to get away or at least talk her way out of the situation.
“Women like you make me sick,” Peaches said, pulling the knife from her back pocket. She gripped the blade in her hand and wiped her face with her arm. “You give the rest of us a bad name. We’re supposed to be there to protect each other, not still babies from their mothers and pimp out young women for profit. I hope you burn in hell.” Bending down, she ran the serrated edge across the woman’s throat slicing it open. She watched her as she succumbed to her injuries, eyes rolling back into her head and mouth wide open. When Peaches was sure Tenisha was dead, she wiped the blade of her finger prints with a dirty towel in the corner and threw it and the towel in the dead woman’s lap.
The girls in the corner screamed out, terrified by the gunshots and the dead bodies. Eying Peaches, they waited to see if she would turn her gun on them.
“Don’t cry,” Peaches said, demeanor quickly changing. Her voice was soft and soothing now. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m here to help you.”
The girls quieted their sobs, understanding that this was a rescue mission.
Now that the storm was over, there were other things that needed to happen quickly. She grabbed the keys to Tenisha’s Tahoe off the night stand and opened the door. Sticking her head outside, she didn’t see anyone around. Evidently, everyone who was in earshot of the shooting had taken cover. No witnesses, no problems. She turned to the girls and waved them over. “Come on. Hurry up. We need to get out of here.”
When they stepped outside what Peaches didn’t hear was a police siren yet. She loaded them up quickly and drove to the front of the hotel where the manager’s office was. There was one more thing on her list.
“Where are you going?” one of the girls asked, when Peaches put the car in PARK. They didn’t want her to leave their sight.
Peaches looked over her shoulder at the girls. “I’ll be right back. It will just take a second,” she promised, jumping out of the SUV one more time.
Pushing the glass door open, Peaches saw a man sitting in the corner of the wood-paneled room watching television and counting a stack of money. Standing up, he looked her over and moved toward the front desk.
“Can I help you?” the man asked, placing his hands on the desk.
Peaches knew his type. He had greedy eyes and a slick mouth just like all the other sex profiteers. “Are you the owner?” she asked, touching her swollen lip.
“Yes.” Looking out the window at the truck, he saw Tenisha’s truck and assumed she must have been there to pay him his cut for using his room to sell the girls.
“You’re Nishith Patel?” Peaches asked again.
“YES,” the man answered again, this time more forcefully. “Now, what do you want?”
Peaches pulled the snub nose from the back of her shorts and pointed it at him. Before he could say a word, she pulled the trigger, using her last bullet to send the man screaming from this world.
“That’s what I want.” Turning back around, she walked out of the door as quickly and quietly as she came.
She had been given specific instructions to not only kill Tenisha and her crew but the owner of the hotel. In Royal Medlov’s mind, if you weren’t a part of the solution, you were part of the problem. And this problem had to be terminated permanently.
Jumping back into the SUV with her mission accomplished, she sped out of the parking lot and into the busy traffic on Elvis Presley Blvd.
The girls in the back looked out of the window in a daze. They never thought they would be free again, but somehow, they had been saved.
“Thank you,” one of the girls said, wiping tears of joy.
“Don’t mention it,” Peaches said, adjusting the rearview mirror. She pushed back in the seat and unzipped her pants. There weren’t many places a girl could smuggle a phone. Grunting, she gripped the steering wheel to push down hard and then reached into her pants, past her panties and up into her womb. Pulling out the cellphone wrapped in cellophane, she flipped it and turned it on.
“Did she just do what I think she just did?” one of the girls whispered to the other.
Peaches ignored them. A girl had to do what a girl had to do. Dialing a number slowly while keeping her eye on the road, she pushed the phone to her ear and threw the baggie out of the window.
***
Royal picked up the call from Peaches as soon as she saw the number. Her heart raced in her chest, praying for good news. Clicking on her conference phone so that everyone sitting around her could hear the news as well, she looked down at the receiver.
“Yes.” Royal clasped her hands together.
“It’s done,” Peaches reported.
“Are the girls hurt?”
“No. They’re fine. I’m going to drop them off at the church now.”
Royal sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “The coupons?” She asked of the targets, careful to use the code words over the phone.
“Expired,” Peaches said, happy to get the job over with. She needed a long vacation after this and a very large ice pack. Her bags were already packed and hotel booked for Miami Beach. In two weeks, she’d be on the beach, pushing sand through her toes and drinks down her throat.
Royal exhaled a sigh of relief. “Good job. Get some rest, and we’ll see you in a few days for a full report.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Hanging up the phone, Royal looked around the room at her council and smiled gratefully at everyone who had helped her.
“Great job, ladies and gentleman,” she praised each of her members with a nod. “Great job indeed.”
They had done it. The Medlov Women’s Council was on its way to making a difference in their city by protecting its most valuable asset – their women. They would kill sex traffickers indiscriminately until the word got out that taking advantage of poor, unsuspecting girls wasn’t an option in Memphis without brutal retribution. She was amazed at how good it felt. The rush was better than any vice she had ever known.
At that moment, she wondered if this was how her husband, Dmitry, always felt after a major arms deal or buying out some rogue company. It was addictive to have that much power in her hands, to give an order of such magnitude and have it carried out, while she waited in the cozy confines of her home.
“Congratulations,” Nadei said, pleased that his mistress was happy. With their first successful mission under their belt already, it was possible this new council could truly make a name for itself. Plus, as a father of a little girl who had stolen his heart, he saw the merits of its existence for more personal reasons.
“Thank you, Nadei. We couldn’t have done it without you,” Royal quipped, hitting her conference machine again. Now that the worry was over, she was starving. Ringing the kitchen, she did a little dance in her chair as the butler answered the phone.
“Yes, Mistress,” the Russian butler answered, quickly turning down the television. He was in the middle of watching replays of the boxing match and overseeing the wait staff while they prepared a late-night dinner for the guards.
“Bring a few bottles of champagne and caviar to my conference room, please.” Winking at Valeriya, Royal clapped her hands together like a giddy little girl.
“Of course. On the way,” the butler answered. “Will there be anything else, Mistress?”
“Well, since he’s asking, I want risotto with white truffles and that special sauce the chef makes,” Lilly yelled out.
“Umm, that sounds good.” Valeriya’s mouth started to water. She had already had dinner, but why not indulge a little. Her post-baby diet could suffer a little. “I’d like the chef’s version of Norma’s Lobster Frittata with a hefty helping of Beluga caviar. Tell him not to skimp on the lobster.”
“What about you, Lauren,” Royal asked. “Our chef is the best. You can have anything you want. He can whip it up like that.” She snapped her fingers to illustrate his speed.
The new lawyer was astounded by what the women sitting around this table considered a late-night snack, but if they were offering fine dining as well as her more-than-generous retainer, she would give it a try.
“I’d love a Kobe steak,” she said more as a question than a food order. She looked around the room and shrugged with a hesitant smile. “And a side of pasta with the white truffles sounds great. So, I’ll take both.”
“And you?” Royal asked Nadei.
He rubbed a hand through his blonde locks and frowned. “I’m not very hungry, but spasiba.”
Royal wouldn’t hear it. “Come on, Nadei. You’re one of us now. Order something. I insist.”
He wasn’t sure if being one of them was a good thing, considering they were all very delicate, sophisticated women, but he knew what she meant. Not wanting to offend her by turning down her kind offer, he thought of the first thing that came to his head.
“Ribeye and whiskey,” he said, finally giving in to the collective pleas in the room.
Royal laughed. “That’s the spirit, Nadei. Let your hair down a little.” Leaning over on the conference table, she spoke into the intercom. “Did you get all that?”
The butler had been quietly writing it all down. “Yes, mistress. It will be up directly. In the meantime, I’ll send up some h’orderves for you.”
“I love how formal he is,” Royal quipped. “Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, she sat back in her chair and kicked up her feet. “Now that’s what I call a council meeting.”