CHAPTER FIVE

Stacy's POV 

Just as every morning oozes with hope, a renewed strength and the reminder of a long day scouting for better opportunities, the evenings reminded me of home, my mom, her sweet buttermilk pancakes. 

The lousy atmosphere of the bustling city did little to infuriate me, no, and not even when the streetlights shone so bright.

I swear I might develop a migraine, it didn't stop me from marching onwards, smiling. The day had ended well, and finally, I was about to take the first big leap into actualizing my goals.

Jennifer had informed me earlier in the day that I should be called in for an interview in a few days, and despite my superior watching in on me closely at work, I couldn't help squealing in delight. 

I wore an extra smile for every plate I served, and my feets felt really floaty when I busted out the doors of the restaurant, eager to deliver the news to my room. I was about to take the right fork off an alleyway when I heard a muffled groan.

It was no doubt a child's, and it didn't take long for me to spot the source of the sound. Laying motionless beneath the dark veils of the garbage cans, a little girl laid there, whimpering. 

I clasped my hands shut on my lips, careful not to make a sound. It dawned on me what other possible horrors would have crossed this alleyway; the same one I walk past almost every day.

I ran up to her, crouching low so I could inspect her. I immediately scanned the alleyway, trying to be sure there was no one else around. 

“Hey,” I whisper, surprised by my own somber tone, “Who in the world did this to you?”

Her eyes remained closed, but I could tell she winced when I lifted her from the pile of trash, careful to rest her head against my chest as I carried her home. 

I kept whispering silent prayers, hoping we didn't get attacked before helping her to the safety of my house.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Sweat and liquor filled the air, but it wasn't enough satisfaction for Chris as he thrust deeper into the petite figure underneath him. 

Her moans filled his ears, and for a first, he restrained himself from shutting her up. 

“Faster, baby,” she moaned, thrashing her butt hard against his thighs. She wasn't getting enough, and he wanted more. He grabbed her firm by the waist, increasing his speed, thrusting faster as his eyes rolled back into his skull. 

Her moans increased, and almost at the same time, both hit their climax, their breaths knocked out. Just as Chris crashed back into bed, a call came in.

Nothing pisses him off than a call when he was 'off duty'.

“What the f*ck is it now?!" He growled, his hands playing at the nipples of the petite girl. 

“Ella's missing, boss, and we're sure Naomi is behind this.”

Chris is the head watchman of the mansion and even on his day off, he has to be called if something happens.

The girl was snuggling in closer, but it was enough to push her away, sending her head first to the wall. 

“That b*tch," he muttered. “Knew she has a message of her own to deliver. Well, what about the watch? You could have tracked that, you dumb piece of shit!"

“There was no way of tracking it down, sir. Naomi must have taken it off Ella.”

Chris was already up his feet, his hands rummaging through the mess of a room, scooping his pants off the floor.

“You said Ella went missing; who else could have possibly known?”

“Rose and Mabel, sir but Rose is missing too, and Mabel, well, she's still present in the mansion. She was deployed yesterday for another wave of combing the city.”

Chris cocked his gun and secured it deep in his pants, wearing his shirt above the cover. 

“Mabel must not utter a word about this. Not even a stutter. It isn't time yet, so have our men keep their feet around the perimeters of the mansion, in and out.”

"Yessir!"

He had dropped the phone to prop the buttons of his shirt when he noticed the girl was still nursing her wounds. 

“Are you crazy?!” He roared, startling the girl. “Get the f*ck out b*tch! And get your asses into that mansion. All of you! You better keep our planted spies safe; nothing must alter the operations of our boss. Any word gets out, and it will be you and your girls paying for it. Understand?!"

The girl nodded, and he dashed out of the room.

*.*.*.*.*..*.*.*

Stacy's POV 

My mom's eyes had been lingering on the little girl since I kicked the house doors shut a little too loudly, but now, I could feel her eyes boring holes into my back. 

With a little help from the First Aid kit, I was able to wipe her most obvious wounds, gentle on the open wounds on her neck and torsos. 

The girl stirred and turned, but a few minutes into midnight, and she was sound asleep.

“Now,” my mom cleared her throat as we walked towards the kitchen, “are you going to explain how you found the girl you brought home?”

“Well I prayed to God for a baby, and he gave her to me." I smirked, rinsing my hand in the sink. My mom fakes a shock, “My my, Holy Mary is that you?!” She said, rolling her eyes at me.

"No way! Now you are taking it too far mom?" I chuckled, turning for the stairs. 

“What they did to her was awful, and I'm careful about taking this to the police. I might be concerned, but I want to keep us safe too.”

“We might be safe if you didn't bring her here,” my mom said, a wave of uncertainty clear in her tone.

“Are you saying I should have left her there?” I frowned. 

“No no, I just ... I have a feeling this isn't right. We should be careful about this. About her.”

 And with that, my mom turned for her room. I could sense her eyes boring into the girl as I dabbed at her wounds, her eyes revealing stories untold, but I knew she wasn't going to open up to me; no matter what it was.

As I caressed the little girl, watching her sleep, I couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement, wondering what our first encounter would turn out to be like.