My eyes weren't open but I was awake and aware. I'd like to thank the throbbing pain on my head for that. It was pretty hard to overlook.
Everything around me was silent, making me believe I was by myself, but I wasn't a fool. I didn't want to open my eyes, see if there were people watching me, waiting for me to wake up. I figured I was a cell or something, maybe an empty room chained the wall. But, oddly enough, I laid down on something delicate and plush; velvety.
My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the dim light above me that barely gave me vision. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment then glanced to the side. Furniture? A sofa, I think, was across from me with a coffee table in between us. I was right, I was alone.
I sat up and clutched the side of my head, checking for blood but found the wound patched up. On the table was a bottle of aspirin in a glass of water, something I obviously wasn't risking, not with my history with drugs.
I rose to my feet and searched for a light switch. There was a doorway ahead of me and I went for it but course, it was locked from the outside. Beside it indeed was a switch. I flipped it up and above me, a large Chandelier turned on.
With better sight, I saw that the room is much larger than I thought.
Across from the curved sofas was a long dining table that could seat 12 people. And, beyond that what is a floor-to-ceiling window, or wall since it's stretched so far across the room. There was a sliding door and from my view, was a separate bedroom.
The curtains were drawn and when I walked over to open them, a stunning view of the city appeared before me with lights building illuminating the night sky.
Where the hell was I, and who would want to take me? I was nobody. Nothing but a speck of dust in this World. Oh God, am I being sex trafficked?
Paranoid thoughts did nothing but increase my fear of an anxiety level. I don't even think it's possible to escape, not unless I shattered the window and jumped, but I would only die in the process. I was so high up, the buildings below us were at least 50 ft lower.
Maybe it was the best option. Before I could even grab a chair to throw at it, the door open behind me. I turned around with fear in my eyes in my heart. you always hear about it, just like this, but you never expect it to happen to you.
An armed man stood in the frame. I saw the guns in his holsters and feared if I moved too quickly that he'd shoot me where I stood.
"Come with me," he said.
I took steady steps towards him. He led me through what looked like a hotel lobby, into an elevator and installed a key under the highest numbered button, and we went a several floors higher. The doors opened and instead of another entryway, it opened to a penthouse apartment.
The man led me through the space to a seating area where I saw Richard sitting alongside several more men in suits with some of the girls I worked with across from them.
Of course, it was him. He's probably making a deal to market our kidneys. I realized I should check for other bandages on my body when I woke up.
"Sit," the man commanded, shoving my back.
I took my seat next to Tiffany and observed closely as the men chattered quietly. I caught a quick glance at Richard who sat and talked with them. He seemed unfazed at this whole situation whereas the girls and I were mortified.
They weren't really going to harvest our organs, right?
"Okay, thank you, ladies, for coming," Richard said as he rose to his feet.
"Coming," I retorted, "I was kidnapped."
"So were we. What the hell is going on?"
"Tell your women to mind their mouths. The sanitation crew has already left for the day and I don't feel like cleaning up a mess right now." A man with slicked-back hair spoke out.
"Anna, darling, you should keep quiet for once and let me explain what's about to happen." I glared at him and he continued. "As you all saw earlier, the El Royale has suffered some extensive damage from the storm, which means we're out of business for a while and I still have a few debts to pay."
Of course, he did. The El Royale wasn't known for its high-class status. Richard always found himself borrowing money from other mafia members time and time again.
"I'm not in the position to pay them up front, so we've decided to make a trade, you girls for the debt to be repaid."
"You...you're selling us," Victoria stammered out.
"Not selling, sweetheart, trading. Besides, it's only temporary. You can come back once I've paid off my debt."
"And exactly how long will that be? We have lives, people who care about us. You think they're not gonna come looking for us?"
"Oh honey," Richard sat on the coffee table in front of her with a self-satisfied grin on his face, "I know for a fact that they won't. I may not be the wisest guy you met, but I'm skillful enough to hire people who don't have anything or anyone to fall back on. None of you have family, friends, or money. Who's gonna come looking for you?"
"You son of a bitch." Victoria lurched at him but was held back by a man who stood behind us. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back in her seat. She fought his grip, still screaming and trying to claw at Richard, who sat unbothered.
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a gun and pointed it at Victoria. She began shaking vigorously as she was tased.
When he stopped and she finally relaxed, probably by passing out, Richard spoke again.
"As I said, this is temporary. You'll come back to the El Royale soon."
"Like we'd want to go back to someone whose trading us," Tiffany rubbed Victoria's sleeping body as she eyed him. "Where the hell are we going, anyway? Some sex club where they drug and rape us?"
"You read too many books, sweetcheeks. No, this isn't a human trafficking ring. I don't need none of those New York bastards knocking at my door. You're going to other gentlemen clubs around the states. Where exactly, you can decide for yourself."
Richard picked up a briefcase from under the coffee table and opened it, handing all of us a list of papers along with some pens."
"What's this," I asked.
"What's it look like? It's a list of clubs you can go to. Now, do us all a favor and choose quickly? You're leaving tonight."
My eyes flew up from my paper. "Tonight?"
"Obviously. Why'd you think we kidnapped you guys? Y'all aren't going to the police after this. God, you guys really are stupid."
I wasn't prepared for that. Although what he said about not having anyone was true, that didn't mean that I wanted to leave. Even in the wreck from the storm, New Orleans was beautiful. It's was my home.
"No," I mumbled.
"Excuse me?"
"No. I'm not leaving so you can fix your mistake. You can't do this to us."
"Ah-ha-ha, that's where you're wrong. You see, Anna," he reached into the briefcase again and handed us another set of papers, "when you signed my contracts to work at the El Royale, it stated on the second page, paragraph four, that I was allowed to transfer you to another club if I needed to."
"Yeah, another one of your clubs."
"Actually, I never specified which club. Now stop with the questions or I'll have you tased, too."
"At least we'll be together," Tiffany noted."
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Due to...underlying issues, you'll be going to separate clubs."
"What, why? How come we can't stay together."
"Because I said so. Besides, I owe everyone on that list. Sending each of you to separate ones is gonna clear up some debt."
"God, I always despised you. The way you treat people like you're better than them; it's sickening."
I uncapped the pen and circled a random club. "Here," I shoved the paper across the table, "Hurry and send me there. Anywhere is better than working for you."
He smiled and reached for the paper. "Good girl, but I'd watch that attitude if I were you. Some of these owners aren't as nice as I am. You can head back to your suite and relax. I'll have a car for you soon. As for the rest of you, maybe take a page out of Anna's book and pick a damn club already."
The guard that brought me in quickly grabbed my arm, bringing out of the room. I couldn't even turn back to see my friends. I was sure it was the last time I'd see them.
I can't believe this is happening. I think organ harvesting is starting to sound better right now. It's not working in a new club that bothers me. It's how easy it is for him to just sell us off: throw us away like trash, recycle us, then get us back like it isn't morally wrong.
I know fighting my way out of this is pointless. All of the men here are armed while the girls and I have nothing except our wit, maybe.
I followed the guard back into the lift and he brought me back to my room. Richard told me to rest but I knew I couldn't. I was about to be traded off to god knows where.
Why didn't I look at the paper when I circled the club? For all I know, that owner could be a complete psychopath that murders people just for saying the wrong thing.
Whoever he is, I'll get through it. I've been through far worse in the past. Being traded to a mafia club is just another thing on the list.