49

Clays's POV

I would do what I was told, but I didn't want to leave her side now that this had happened. Her Eyes would be watching her now. She would have to meet the older Takahashi soon and I wouldn't let her go in alone. Her brother and his… associates were smart to have the tarps. I had already had the footage sent our higher ups and now preparing the corpse up with the help of James and the others. I was moving the chair out of the way and removing my jacket and rolling up my sleeves. James was getting off the phone with someone.

"I got some guys who can dispose of this body and can be here in less than an hour, but we gotta move now." he informed. I heard his words, but I didn't respond. I was too busy looking at the corpse. I got down on one knee before Kai and just flipped him over.

"So what's your story huh?" Kanan asked as the men began to roll up the tarp. James eyed me as well wanting to know. I didn't respond. Our story belonged to us…

I was always a quiet child who always listened who always obeyed. Obeying made me a good boy and good boys go rewards. I always enjoyed seeing my mother happy when I did something she wanted. I made her happy even as I grew into a man on the compound of God's Chosen One's led by Ezekiel. He was a prophet who had my mother wrapped around his finger. More women and young girls came and went mysteriously in the compound and just like that with the help of sex and drugs, Ezekiel convinced my mom to give me to some men. Iranians they were. It made her happy.

The open whip marks on my back soon became infected as time went on and I hoped they would soon me. Each person was cuffed together in a large crate, backs to the wall. If one ran the other was smart to try and stop them so both wouldn't be killed. That usually resulted in the escapee being killed by the scared captor. I've seen just about everyone from all different parts of the world as they forced me on my back and on my stomach for those who wanted to pay for my body.

Someone I couldn't call a doctor stitched my wounds, patted them down and I was back in a position of their choosing. Every face I looked at angered me. Every person I saw angered me. The whippings were enough to keep my anger flowing. I started to pick up the patterns of my captors their faces and each night I thought of killing them in their sleep. I killed them in my dreams. Everyone looked the same, torn and faded shirts and pants. Some wore shoes, others didn't. The man I was chained to was trying to steal the shoes I wore. He was young eighteen maybe. I watched the fear in his eyes as I strangled the life out of him. He would do the same to me. I remember the euphoria that grew inside me as I found my release in killing him. I saw everyone's faces that I despised. The whippings I got from that were worth it. I felt like they whipped me to an inch of my life. Pussies. Couldn't even finish the job.

I lied on my stomach, face twitching as I felt the blood oozing from my back wounds. I felt tired, very tired now. Maybe I would die right here. Good. I closed my eyes and accepted my fate.

"LET ME GO! YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!" a voice made me gasp awake. I had never heard a voice have such strength in their tone. I slowly leaned my head back, my back still hurting so I didn't move. I could see shapes. It was a woman. She was being smacked to the ground. She was wearing shades of white and she was being dragged my way. I didn't move still. She's a black woman being stripped of her clothes it seemed. She's forced to the ground beside me and chained to me. I blinked some as I looked more at her through. She's clearer now that she's close to me. She has curly hair and clear skin. She's not dirty and her eyes are filled with viciousness and fight. A stream of blood dripped from her chin and she spit at the ground before the man and in response he connected his fist into her face and she fell over. Since we were cuffed this made my arm lift some and that made pain shoot up inside me. She only had a silvery gown on. She's new.

I hear one of the men yelling at the man who punched her and he left her. I stared at her for a moment blinking more. Since we are cuffed, I can feel her warm skin. It's soft. She smells like the outside world. Scented lotion devoured her body. She's pretty with a busted lip and bruised chin. Slowly she leaned up and pants some as she looked around for a moment as if taking in where she's at. I see she has one earring in and she just gently presses her fingers to it.

"Track my location before signal is lost." she says very faintly. Now she just leaned back and finally she notices me. She winced at the sight of me. "Oh fuck." I didn't want to acknowledge her but my head felt heavy as I just tried to face away from her, but slowly I feel her hand suddenly rest atop of my head. My eyes widened at her touch. It was different then all the touches I had ever felt before. She stared down at me with saddened eyes.

"Fuck you're cold." she said. Yes I am trying to die. I felt her hands now move under my cheeks and slowly she lifts my face up. It hurt so badly and yet when my head came back down, I felt the warmth of her legs. I was stunned by this. Her hand gently stroked my head as if to soothe me like a wounded animal.

"If it is your time to die then it is your time. You will not die without feeling some warmth." she said. My face was wet, yes with blood, but with something else. My eyes burned from the salty tears that fell down my face. Yes. Now I could die.

But I did not. I woke up in the small infirmary room where the trafficked humans are taken to be looked after. I blinked more in confusion as I saw the familiar grey walls around me. I slowly looked around. There was a woman being taken advantage of in the back of the room by one of the men who took us. She was crying and trying to fight back. Where is that woman? Where is the woman from the outside world? I noticed the back of the medic. He wasn't bothered by anything of the room. I lifted my arm to see it was clean. I was stitched up again and cleaned. I leaned over wondering how long I had been out.

The woman screamed and begged claiming she was a virgin. I leaned over the bed noticing a small scalpel on the ground. I didn't think twice about grabbing it and stuffing it in my pants. No one was watching. How long was I out? Where was that woman? Was she still alive? Why was I alive? I should have died right there in her lap. I was dragged by two men back to the cages the pain in my back still raw, but I saw her. She was in an old t-shirt and shorts. Her hair was matted now. Yes it had been a while that I was out. She was now like us.

"Here you go your highness." One of the men mocked as I was dropped on my stomach. I didn't make a sound as I cuffed back to her. Was she the reason I was still alive? I noticed her earring was gone. I wonder what happened to it. I didn't want to move the pain was still too great. I was eye level with the bottom of her legs and I observed them for a bit. No blood. They hadn't broken her yet. Why? Maybe they had.

"So death wouldn't take you yet huh?" she said and I just continued to stare at her not wanting to move.

"Did you do this?" I asked instead and finally looked at her. She nodded.

"Yeah. Shouldn't be too long before my ride gets here." she said. I was confused by her words. I wonder what this woman had to do to make Iranian human traffickers do what she said. Who was she? Was she an angel in disguise? No angels didn't exist. But maybe God was a woman and this was her. A goddess I closed my eyes not wanting to ponder anymore on her.

"My name is Yara." she said. That's the first sentence anyone has ever said in my direction that wasn't a bark or a command. I didn't respond for the longest time, but something about her was different. She wasn't afraid when she definitely should be. I've watched men grab at her and whistle at her. They uncuffed us and made her stand naked in front of us all as they cut at her body and push her. But it seemed no one was allowed to fuck her. Maybe she was going to be given to a warlord or someone else. I'd been in this life for a long time. I knew a woman like her with a body like hers was being saved. But even though she was humiliated and her eyes showed it, she still did not lose herself. It was dark out, because the lights were on above us. They were only on during the night.

I had regained my strength as I was use to the pain. I was able to tolerate it more than I use to. We were eating the stale bread and soup on our plates in silence. I glanced at her and noticed she wasn't eating. A goddess doesn't need food. I could tell in her eyes she was ready to go. She was going to be leaving her. Maybe it was spiritual or physical but I could tell she was going to leave and for some reason I couldn't explain, I didn't want her to leave without me.

"Clay." I offered my name and she looked at me almost as if she expected me to speak. She nodded.

"Nice to meet you Clay. Yara St. Patrick." she replied. And that was it. That was when I knew I wanted to be where this woman was. I wanted to know her secret, her power. I don't sleep much, but she does. She was sleeping on her side; her back was to me. I watched her sleep sometimes. Who knows if she watched me. But even if she did this though didn't anger me. She was the reason I was alive. I felt tonight I could sleep and it was the worse decision I could ever make.

I heard a sharp yelp and my eyes snapped open to see other humans before me that was not Yara. I leaned up to see she was being dragged by the same man who raped the other girl in the medic's room. He pawing at her body, ripping her clothes and she was kicking and screaming and fighting him. He back handed her making her body roll onto her stomach that gave him the time he needed to pull off her pants.

My eyes widened and before I knew it I was on my feet and digging through my pants. I felt the rusty scalpel hidden in my old pants and I walked directly toward the man. My feet were light and he didn't even hear me. The anger burst inside me like wild fire releasing through my pours. He was on his knees trying to get his pants unzipped when I just gripped his hair, pulled his head back to my body and just ran the scalpel across his neck hard and slow. He clawed at my hand and I just closed my eyes at the delicious feeling of his blood pouring over my hands. Yara turned and watched wide eyed as I spewed his blood onto the ground. I then pushed him aside and just looked down at what I had did. God that felt so good. I turned to look at Yara who slowly got to her feet and just stared at me wide eyed and fearful. My hand clutched the scalpel tighter as she slowly walked over to me.

For a second, I couldn't decide if she was my enemy or…

"Clay." she said carefully as she placed her hand beneath my chin. "Never leave my side."

Her words were ingrained into my head now and I knew from that moment I never would. At this moment I knew there was no place she could go that I wouldn't follow. I wouldn't leave this world unless she asked me to. The sound of heavy guns were cutting through the moment between us and now everyone was screaming in fear the Iranians were doing a sweep and getting rid of us.

Yara didn't look afraid however. She just looked at the doors on the opposite side of us as they burst open and in came some tall salt and pepper haired man with a bunch of men in black swarming around us. Yara stepped in front of me and the older man looked at her with relief.

"My dear girl are you alright?" he asked quickly. She nodded.

"I am, Jerry. Your training with the earring came in handy." she says. Another man with dark hair and rough features approached.

"Looks like you may be cut out for this job yet." he said glaring at her. I didn't like him at all. Yara responded by smacking him across the face.

"Fuck you Nathan!" she snapped angrily. Jerry rolled his eyes.

"Well let's get you back into the states. We can do nothing for the others." he said. Yara leaned her arm back and her hand took mine and immediately, my hand releases the scalpel.

"Jerry this is Clay… he has potential for Red Lake. I want him as my personal assistant." she said. The man known as Nathan just frowned heavier looking me over.

"You don't need to take on strays." he said. Immediately these men with guns were sending bullets into the heads of the others. Yara's hand squeezed mine in response as she looked at this Jerry figure.

"Please Jerry. I don't believe he will let you down. He has proven himself to me." she said. The older man just looked me over and then looked at the man he had killed. He sighed.

"You're in charge of him." was his only response before turning and moving out of the room. Once again the goddess had saved me from death. Nathan shook head and looked at Yara.

"Let's get you out of here, Ambassador." he said and the two shared a warm smile before Yara looked at me with the same warmth in her eyes.

"Let's go home, Clay." she said.

Home was wherever she was. We finished wrapping the body up even though I ignored the conversations the three men were having. They all seemed to be watching me carefully. I didn't trust any of them especially Kanan. I saw the way he watched Yara leave and I didn't like it.

"My boy's here." James's said. My work was done but I needed to make sure this body was disposed of to make sure it did not come back to Yara. I moved over to grab my jacket and put it back on. As I buttoned it up, James approached me. I looked through him to Tommy and Kanan hurrying the body through a different door, most likely a back door.

"So you're my sister's pit bull." he said. No response. "Look man. Be straight with me. How deep into the life is my sister?" I didn't respond. I just continued to button my jacket. He took a step closer which I only allowed because I didn't see him as a threat. There was still tarp left. "Look you're loyal to my sister. I can see that and I respect that. I'm glad someone's looking out for her. I can accept I haven't been there for her since we were kids."

I looked up at the ceiling in annoyance before looking at James.

"What Ms. St. Patrick is involved in has nothing and never will have anything to do with you. If you care about her you will never try and have contact with her again. Continue playing drug dealer like you have and she will continue to let you stay in your fantasy." I said. The man frowned quickly stepping close to me.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" but the gun I placed beneath his chin silenced him. His eyes remained fierce as he stared at me. "You won't pull that trigger." I thought of his words for a moment before stepping back and putting it away.

"You're right I won't. I don't waste bullets." I replied and turned from him and began to walk toward the door.

"If I wanted to be square with my sister again what would you recommend?" he asked. I paused finally in thought of his words. I wasn't permitted to say this, but my suspicions were rarely wrong. I remember the look on my employer's face when he saw Kanan. I've seen that look on her face before and I know what it means. I finally turned to face James.

"That man, Kanan. He's hurt your sister on more than on occasion. Kill him." I merely replied and turned not even taking pleasure in the confused and horrid look that spread on the club owners face.