CHAPTER 126
SKYLAR'S POV
The wig itched against my scalp, but I forced myself not to scratch it as I stumbled down the alley behind the warehouse. My clothes were deliberately torn and dirty, my makeup smeared to look like I'd been crying. To anyone watching, I looked exactly like what this neighborhood saw too often - a young woman in trouble, desperate enough to do anything for help.
My earpiece crackled softly. "Target acquired," Harry's voice whispered. "Three guards on the perimeter, rotating every twenty minutes. You have a window in about five minutes."
I pressed against the brick wall, my heart hammering against my ribs. The plan was simple in theory - get inside during the shift change, locate the holding area, and plant the tracking devices Lucas had given me so we could monitor the building's layout and guard positions. In and out in ten minutes, no confrontation, no heroics.
But as I crouched behind a dumpster watching the loading dock, I could hear sounds from inside that made my stomach clench. Muffled crying. Male voices laughing. The unmistakable sound of someone being hurt.
"Skylar," Jax's voice came through the earpiece, tight with concern. "Your heart rate is spiking. Stay calm."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't listening to girls my age being terrorized fifty feet away.
"Guard change in sixty seconds," Lucas reported. "East entrance is clear."
I took a deep breath and checked my weapons one more time. The knife on my forearm, the gun at my back, the small explosives Lucas had shown me how to use tucked into my boots. If something went wrong, I wouldn't go down without a fight.
The guards walked past my hiding spot, their footsteps echoing off the concrete. I counted to thirty, then slipped out of the shadows and made my way to the side entrance Lucas had identified. The lock was exactly the type he'd taught me to pick, and within ninety seconds, I was inside.
The smell hit me first. Fear, sweat, and something else - the distinctive scent of too many people crammed into too small a space without proper ventilation. I was in a narrow hallway lined with metal doors, each one secured with heavy deadbolts.
"I'm in," I whispered into my mic. "Hallway with multiple rooms. Sounds like they're holding people in each one."
"How many?" Harry's voice was strained.
I pressed my ear to the first door and heard soft sobbing. The second had silence. The third... my blood ran cold. A man's voice, demanding, threatening. A girl's voice, young and terrified, begging in what sounded like Spanish.
"At least six rooms," I whispered. "Some occupied by guards and... clients. Others just holding cells."
I forced myself to keep moving, planting tracking devices as I went. The hallway opened into a larger space that looked like it had been set up as some kind of staging area. Folding chairs arranged in rows, facing a small platform. My stomach turned as I realized what this was - a viewing area for "buyers" to inspect their purchases.
"Skylar, you need to get out of there," Jax said urgently. "Guard rotation ends in three minutes."
But as I turned to leave, I heard footsteps coming down the main corridor. Heavy boots, multiple people, heading straight for my location. I ducked behind a stack of crates just as three men entered the staging area.
"Boss wants everything ready for tonight's show," one of them said. "VIP buyer is coming, and he's got specific requirements."
"How specific?" another asked.
"Young, blonde, undamaged. Something about reminding him of his son's girlfriend."
My blood turned to ice. They were talking about William. And his "specific requirements" sounded exactly like me.
"We've got two that fit the profile," the first man continued. "Grabbed them yesterday from that college campus upstate. Should be perfect for what he wants."
I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. College girls. Probably not much older than me, stolen from their normal lives and brought here to be sold to monsters.
"Skylar," Harry's voice was sharp in my ear. "Your vitals are all over the place. What's happening?"
I couldn't answer without giving away my position. The men were still talking, discussing logistics for the evening's "event" with the casual tone of people planning a business meeting. As if the lives they were destroying meant nothing.
"Check the merchandise," one of them ordered. "Make sure they're presentable."
I heard keys jingling, doors opening, and then sounds that made me want to put bullets in all their heads. Girls crying, men laughing, the unmistakable sounds of violence and violation.
"Two minutes, Skylar," Lucas warned. "You need to move now."
But I couldn't move. Not yet. Because hanging on the wall behind the men was a whiteboard covered in shipping schedules, location addresses, and what looked like client preferences. Information that could help us save dozens of girls across multiple locations.
I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures, my hands shaking with rage and adrenaline. Each address, each schedule, each horrific detail about what these monsters planned to do to innocent women.
"Skylar!" Harry's voice was nearly a shout. "Get out! Now!"
Footsteps in the hallway. Coming fast. Too many to count.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and looked around desperately for another exit. There - a window high on the far wall, just big enough for me to squeeze through if I could reach it.
"Going radio silent," I whispered, then pulled out my earpiece and shoved it in my pocket.
The voices were getting closer. I could hear them checking doors, searching rooms. It wouldn't be long before they found the staging area.
I climbed onto the crates, trying to move as silently as possible despite my pounding heart. The window was stuck, painted shut probably decades ago. I pulled out my knife and started working on the seal, praying it would give way before the men reached me.
"Someone's been here," a voice said from just outside the room. "Fresh scratches on the lock."
The paint finally cracked. I shoved the window open and squeezed through just as I heard footsteps entering the staging area below me. I dropped to the ground outside and pressed myself against the building, breathing hard.
My earpiece crackled as I put it back in. "Skylar! Report!"
"I'm out," I whispered. "But we have a problem. They know someone was inside."
"Are you hurt?" Jax's voice was tight with worry.
"No, but I got photos of their operation schedules. Harry, they're expecting William tonight, and they have girls specifically selected for him. College students they grabbed yesterday."
The silence on the comm was deafening.
"How many locations?" Lucas asked finally.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos I'd taken. "At least twelve facilities across three states. And there's something else. Tomorrow night, there's a big auction scheduled. They're calling it a 'premium selection event' and the guest list..." I paused, my stomach turning. "It includes judges, politicians, business leaders. People who could shut this down if they wanted to, but instead they're buying children."
"We're coming to get you," Harry said. "Stay put."
"No," I said firmly. "We stick to the plan. I'm making my way back to the rendezvous point. But tonight changes everything. We're not just stopping one operation - we're going to burn their entire network to the ground."
As I made my way through the shadows toward our meeting point, I could hear sirens in the distance. Whether they were coming for us or someone else, I didn't know. But one thing was certain - after what I'd seen and heard in that warehouse, there was no going back.
The war had officially begun.
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