Consanguinity kills the cat

Chapter 18

The room was empty when Hotch finally kicked it in. It was obvious that they had escaped through the window, but when they looked out there was no one in sight. All three agents ran to the other direction of the front door of the club. Reid held the door open behind them so that it wouldn't close and the waitress would decide to not let them in again. As soon as the two older agents stepped outside to see nothing they knew they'd lost them and that they were not bound to come back anytime soon.

So they walked into the club again, meeting the waitress' shocked and scared expression.

"We need to ask you a few questions," Hotch said and the woman put down the piece of cloth she had used to wipe the bar with.

"Alright, what you wanna know?"

"First, what was the meeting about?" Rossi was the one to ask.

"A job offer I guess. It was a man so my guess is that he would either be a bartender or work for them in their side-business."

"What side-business?" Hotch asked even if he knew.

"I not tell you. Boss be mad if I do."

"We know they're selling girls," Rossi said.

"What d'ya asking me for then?" She asked, a bit offended.

"Have you heard anything about this new guy?" Hotch asked, ignoring her offended tone. He had a bad feeling about this; it was a too big of a coincidence.

"Nah, boss not tell me much. He was hot. Lot of muscles and he was black."

Reid retrieved his phone and brought up a picture, showing it to the waitress. "Does he look anything like this?"

"Yes, that him. How did you..." the woman paused as a wide smile spread to her face. "Oh, boss be so pissed if he ever find out. They'll kill him," the girl laughed a little, but the three agents were not happy at all about this.

Derek Morgan was already with the guys that bought Emily, trying to win their trust so they'd lead him straight to her.

"We need to take a look in their office," Rossi said, already starting to walk in that direction.

"Be my guest. You not find a thing," the woman picked up the cloth again and went back to work.

Hotch, Rossi and Reid walked into the office, splitting up to look in drawers and in cabinets. There was a computer on the desk where all their important files were password protected, a perfect job for Garcia. Question was if they'd have to go to her or if she'd come to them. Whichever way they chose to do it, Morgan would get a hell of a head start. The cabinets were full of folders. Mostly budget and employer records. Some caught their interest. It was records of girls, but they were all from 2005, 2006; a time before they got computerized.

They still decided to flip through them. The girls were of all ages, the youngest 6 and the oldest 32, but all younger than Emily. The records also showed who had bought them and where they had been shipped off to. Even if they wouldn't find Emily in there, they would get examples of what kinds of people who bought her. Maybe the same guys bought more than one girl and in that way they could profile what kinds of girls they liked and possibly find the one that has Emily.

It was a long-shot; they all knew that. The records was from 6 years ago so some of these might not even be in the business anymore. Though, once a scumbag, always a scumbag. These people didn't change that fast.

That's why they gathered all the useful files in a pile on the desk. Rossi unplugged the laptop and put it together with the chord next to the pile of files.

In the desk's drawers there was a CD and two USB sticks that they also chose to bring.

It took them another fifteen minutes to go threw the whole office, double-checking and making sure that they hadn't forgotten anything important.

Picking up what they'd gathered they walked out of the office and out to where the waitress was now cleaning some glasses. She looked surprised that they had actually come out with things in their hands.

"You found?" she asked in disbelief.

"We'll see. Thank you for your help. If you hear anything, call this number," Hotch said and gave the young woman a card. "We'll show ourselves out."

The woman huffed, rolling her eyes. They knew it would take a lot for her to actually call them, but they had to at least try. Hopefully she would stop being loyal to her boss and help them instead.

They got into their car and quickly called Garcia.

"Please tell me that my Chocolate Thunder is safe and sound in the backseat and that you're gonna go get Emily now." When Hotch sighed, Garcia pleaded. "Please?"

"We missed him. The waitress saw him walk into the office with the men who took Emily." Hotch paused for a second. "They're all gone."

"How? What? Why?"

"We don't know how we didn't catch him at the airport, but we do know that he's hoping they'll lead him to where Emily is," Rossi said.

"Oh God, what is he doing?" Garcia exclaimed. "You know where they're going right?"

"Unfortunately, no," Hotch sighed again. "We do have a computer we need you to work on."

"I can do that. Computers are my thing. If there's anything on them, I will find it."

"Good. We'll get it delivered to you ASAP," Hotch said and with that the phone call was over.


The men didn't take her back to her room when they arrived to the big mansion. No, they took her to the boss. The man in charge. Emily wasn't that scared of him; she wasn't scared of any of them, but she was pissed at herself for thinking it was a good idea to go to the police station for help when she could've just called her team right there in that shop.

The man was standing, looking out through the window with his back to the door.

"ترك." The man said, still with his back towards Emily and the two men by her side. The men obliged and left the room, leaving Emily alone with the much older man.

"I knew you still had the fight in you," he said calmly and Emily wasn't so sure of what to answer to that. She decided it was best to keep quiet. "But quite frankly, no one runs away from me without consequences."

He turned around now and took in her figure. She still had the man's shirt and only panties. The man smiled, making Emily feel very uncomfortable.

"Drop the shirt," he said roughly, startling Emily. When she didn't follow his order he said with more force. "Drop. The. Shirt."

Emily narrowed her eyes before answering. "Never. Gonna. Happen."

She would rather drop dead than to do anything he said and if needed, she would try her hardest to fight him off. Even if her movements were limited with the handcuffs.

The man stepped even closer to her and grabbed her shirt. "You need to learn to pay the men a little more respect."

"Get off me, you bastard," she spat at him, aggravating him further.

He took a hold of either side of her shirt and tore it apart, making buttons fly everywhere and exposing her breasts under a black lace bra. She pulled back and shielded herself from the man's angry eyes.

"Get. The Fuck. Away." She said, but she knew she wouldn't be able to keep him away for long.

When he charged at her to get her shirt of she hit him in the middle of his face, making him step back in anger. That was not a smart move. 30 seconds later he had managed to overpower her and torn the shirt off. This newfound rage in him gave him twice the power he had before. He was already a big man, almost three times the size of Emily, and hard to take down. Emily struggled against his grip as he brought her to his desk, securing her hands to a hook.

Emily couldn't see him now, lying with her stomach and chest on the desk and him stepping behind her. She tried hard to pull her arms away but to no avail.

First she felt him unclip her bra and she turned her head to try and see him, but she only saw his legs. Then she heard the sound of someone unbuckling their belt. No, not again. She struggled against her restraints, making the old man chuckle, but he hadn't intended to do what she had expected. Instead she heard a loud smack and a pain radiated through her entire body. Gritting her teeth, she made sure not to scream. This kind of physical pain she could handle. At the second rap she bit her lip hard, fighting more to not let the least bit of sound out. The lip started bleeding after the third rap and so did her back. She could feel the blood trickling down her naked form, disappearing when it reached her panties.

A fourth rap and she tried to swallow down her scream, which caused bile to rise in her throat. She couldn't throw up though, so she swallowed down that too, scrunching her nose at the sour taste and the sting of her throat.

The fifth one brought out a moan from her, making the man chuckle viciously. It was hard controlling it now. The sixth and seventh also brought out sounds from her. It was as if the man hit her even harder when she had refused to scream and then the eighth was the worst. The pain was too much that she couldn't stop the scream that escaped her mouth. Tears had already sprung to her eyes and when she closed her eyes hard, getting ready for the ninth, they rolled down her cheeks. Maybe this was for the best. If her body was all bruised and ugly nobody would want to buy her. Could it be that easy? She could hope at least. But if they didn't want her would Morgan do? Would Morgan still love her no matter how torn up her back was and all the men she had let touch her?

The tenth rap was delivered and she screamed out, followed by a loud sob.

The pain was almost unbearable. Worse than she'd ever felt. But still she cursed herself for showing this weakness and crying in front of him. It wasn't right at all.

He put the belt by her body on the desk, letting her know that he was finished. She watched as he rounded her and loosened her hands, freeing her completely from the handcuffs. Emily still had tears rolling down her cheeks as she stood up, cringing as the bruises on her back shot another round of pain through her body. Her bra fell down her arms, but she didn't care to bring it up again. It would only hurt to fasten it on her back. Instead she brought her arms up to cover herself.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson. Now go out and someone will escort you back to your room," he said as he wiped his hands with a tissue, ridding of her blood.

She opened the door, shivering as a man's much too cold hands grabbed her upper-arm and started leading her through the corridor and down a floor to her room. They pushed her inside and closed the door quickly, locking it behind her. Even when she was this hurt they thought she would put up a fight at the first opportunity she got, but right now she was way too tired. The adrenaline that had kept her going since she escaped was now gone and what she wanted the most was rest. The room was empty, all the others probably busy with some disgusting men.

Emily didn't want to put on any clothes, afraid to touch her bruises with any piece of fabric. So she just crawled onto the bed and lied flat down on her stomach. It didn't even take 5 minutes before she allowed herself to drift into sleep.


Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.