Thumper by Marie James
Chapter 2
Thumper
“Angel,” I hiss, my hips still working back and forth. “Get the other women in the house. I don’t need them getting sick. We’re already going to have to deal with damaged goods.”
He nods at me, but there’s a fire in his eyes that tells me he isn’t happy. I don’t know if it’s because I’m fucking this woman and he isn’t, or if he’s pissed I’ve taken it this far. I knew the rules. He laid them out for me more than once before agreeing to work for me. He has to understand that if I refused what Berto was demanding, we’d both be lying in a pile of blood right now. Despite not wanting to be in this position, I knew it was a possibility. My cock is hard as I fuck into her, so there’s no denying that at least my body is enjoying what my mind is telling me is fucked up beyond belief. I shake my head, trying to get my months with Cerberus out of it.
The women are crying and pleading as they’re led away, and my eyes catch on the redhead as she walks past, her eyes everywhere but on what I’m doing. Her wrists are mangled from rope burns, bare feet filthy. She already seems broken, a ghost of the woman she possibly was before all of this started.
I had a list of demands, characteristics in the women I purchased. I know what sells well and what doesn’t. All six of the women have exotic features. Four are blonde, either bottle or natural. I didn’t pay enough attention to know the difference. The woman under me is a brunette, but her eyes are a gorgeous green. I grip her harder when she tries to move away, my fingers a painful reminder of who’s in charge.
Then there’s that redhead. She’s going to pull a great price. Men will fall to their knees to buy a woman with innocent freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. My stomach turns at the thought, and I move my hips faster, taking my anger and irritation out on the woman underneath me.
“Please stop,” the woman cries, and my only response is to grip her tighter, fuck her harder.
“Okay, Javier. Nice doing business with you,” Berto says beside me, and I pull my eyes away from the redhead as she follows Angel inside the house.
My hips slow as Berto and the sellers start to walk away, and I pull from the woman just in time to insist she pull her pants up and join the other women walking into the house. She rushes away from me, her feet unsteady as she tries to walk and right her clothes at the same time.
As I rip the condom off and toss it to the dirt at my feet, I’m surprised to find that none of them try to dart away. The compliance makes my skin prickle. This will be the last time fresh air touches their skin, and yet they follow along like cattle into the house. Just the threat of being hurt makes them compliant, and as much as I appreciate it, it also serves to piss me off even further.
“How was her pussy? We always find the best pussy.”
I freeze at the sound of Berto’s voice beside me.
“Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl.
He chuckles, a sinister sound that makes me want to punch him in the throat.
I don’t know why I expected his boss to be the one to make the delivery tonight. The man would never get his hands dirty with such menial tasks.
“What are your plans?”
I turn to look at him, tucking my dick back into my jeans.
“My plans are none of your business. What concerns me most is that you’ve brought me damaged goods.”
“They haven’t been touched. Your goods were left unspoiled, just like you wanted.”
“They may not have been fucked, but they’re beaten and battered. The redhead is probably going to have scars from the ropes on her wrists.”
“You know to expect a few injuries. It’s not like these bitches just climb into the truck willingly.”
I swallow the growl threatening to escape my throat. “I’m going to have to hold on to them longer. That one’s buyer wanted pristine flesh. It’s his privilege to hurt her, not yours.”
He shrugs as if it’s no big deal to accept an envelope filled with cash in exchange for six women’s lives. It’s just another day for him. “Maybe the next batch will be more cooperative.”
I continue to glare at him. His rifle hangs at his side, but I know it won’t take much for him to lift it and put a bullet in my chest. He’d be able to keep the cash and the girls.
“My boss will be very happy with the video I made. He was afraid you were a chump.”
“My family has been in this business for generations,” I snap.
“The Nolascos haven’t done business with us before. I’ll see you in a few weeks with another shipment.”
He walks away, effectively getting in the last word, and I barely resist wrapping my hands around his throat from behind and choking the life out of him.
As I enter the house, I try to get a grip on my reality, of what’s being asked of me, but I struggle with the effort. Of all the things I imagined I would grow up to be when I was a kid, a human sex trafficker was never on the list. It’s fucking crazy how things end up.
Firing off a text to Angel demanding the woman I just fucked be brought to one of the rooms, I drop into my office chair. I want to dwell on a time when things in my life were easier, but pulling those recollections doesn’t fair well with me. The things I’ve done in my lifetime, the things I’ve witnessed and played a part in have done nothing but gain me a one-way ticket to Hell, and as far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.
With my head in my hands, I lean over my desk and take slow deep breaths, but the effort doesn’t change where I am. When I lift my head, I’m still in the office of a home deep in the El Salvadorian forest. A place that isn’t on any map, and only accessible through rough terrain and miles of absolutely nothing. If it weren’t for what I was doing, this place could be a safe haven, a place of respite from the cruel torments of the world. But nothing but pain will happen within these walls, the beauty of the place dashed away by women locked in cages in the basement, surrounded by men who want to fuck them before draining the life from their bodies.
Moving without thinking, I grab the bottle of whiskey from my desk and pour more than enough into a glass to dull my senses. Lifting the glass to my parched lips, I toss back the entire thing and wait. But even as the liquor warms my guts and begins to enter my blood stream, I know it won’t be enough. It’s never enough. There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to make what I’m doing okay.
I pour another glass as I pull up the video feed to the basement. I missed my purchases being loaded into their crates and find Angel on the screen as he clasps the brunette woman’s arm and drags her from the room. Her eyes dart all around, taking in her surroundings, and I know she’s doing it for a reason. She thinks she can escape. She’s still holding on to hope that what I did to her in front of everyone is the worst of it. She doesn’t have a clue what’s in store for her, or maybe she does, and that’s her reason for looking all around like she may have a chance. Foolish thoughts made by a foolish woman. There’s no escape from the life we’re living, no do-overs or second chances. She put herself in a situation she can’t escape from, and I’m the bastard who’s going to have to remind her of that.
Other than her, the rest of them will get a break. Tomorrow starts the intake process. We need to learn a little about each of them to ensure they end up in the right place.
It’s going to be a long couple of weeks, and by the time it’s all over, they’re going to know that Javier Nolasco is the devil himself.