Page 2 of Forced Bratva Kidnapped Virgin
“Then let me do my job,” I answered. “Let me attend to her.”
He exhaled sharply. “Just…don’t go digging. You might not like what you find.” With that, he walked away.
I brushed off his words and grabbed the door handle. It creaked open at a single push, and I walked right in, my eyes darting toward a blond girl. She’d flinched when she heard the door, her breath hitched.
She sat in a chair, jumpy, with her hands on the table. Behind her wide eyes was a flicker of fear, one I’d seen countless times among trafficking survivors.
“July Morales?”
She clenched her jaw, giving a subtle nod.
“I’m Kiera Jane,” I said. “Lawyer. Social worker.”
Her gaze darted to the badge on my jacket as if to confirm. She looked at me, then at the lit hallway across the other side.
Noticing her unease, I asked, “How do you want the door, closed or open? Whatever makes you feel safe.”
A short pause.
“Closed,” she replied. “But not locked.”
“Okay.”
I did as she wanted, then strolled over and settled into the chair across from her. “I was told you asked for me.”
She nodded.
“Can I ask why?”
“I’ve heard stories,” she answered, her voice faint and low. “Testimonies of the girls you’ve helped.”
My heart was warm with something I was yet to name. It felt good to be recognized for a job well done.
“They say you’re good at what you do,” she added, barely meeting my gaze.
A small smile tugged at my lips. “I’m flattered, but it’s my obligation.”
“Obligations weren’t optional where I was.”
“And where was that?”
Silence.
She lowered her head, her fingers absently drawing invisible circles on the table.
A door outside slammed shut, and I watched her shoulders rise. Then stiffen. Her eyes darted toward the noise, her chest heaving with slow, measured breaths.
She was afraid.
“Hey.” I reached out and touched her hand, my voice calm and reassuring. “You’re safe here. No one’s gonna harm you. I promise.”
She met my gaze, her dry lips trembling ever so slightly.
After a moment of thought, she looked at me. “He said it was just bartending. Said the pay was good and I really needed the money.”
“He, who?”
Again, silence.
