Time To Play by KA Richardson (best book club books of all time TXT) 📗

a hint of a thought from earlier; something bad was going to happen, but it stayed just out of her mind’s reach.

Forcing her eyes open, she gasped as she saw the two men from the truck half-carrying, half-dragging Nita between them. Elvie couldn’t understand why Nita didn’t even struggle. She looked fast asleep.

Elvie pulled herself to her feet and launched herself at the man nearest to her. It was the skinny one who had kicked her, and she grabbed his face with her fingernails and scraped them down his cheek.

‘Argh,’ he grunted, dropping Nita’s shoulder and turning to face Elvie. He was angry, and she saw his eyes glint with evil as he came towards her. She took a step backwards, terrified. The back of her knees connected with the edge of the bed and she couldn’t go any further. She whimpered as the man raised his arm and smacked her in the face, hard.

The force of the blow flung Elvie backwards and onto the mattress. Her face burnt, and she felt tears fill her eyes. No one had ever hit her before.

‘Maybe I’ll show you just how pissed off I am,’ growled the man, reaching to unbuckle the belt around his waist.

‘Gaz. Leave it.’ The warning came from the other man, the one holding Nita up. ‘Boss said no touching.’

The man in front of her leant forward until he was so close she could feel his breath on her lips. She couldn’t have moved if she tried, terror had her paralysed. What’s he going to do? Why did he unhook his belt?

‘One day, I’m going to have you. And fat boy over there ain’t gunna be here to stop me,’ he whispered.

Elvie didn’t follow all his words, but she understood the meaning.

Her breath whooshed out as he stood and strode to the door, slamming it shut behind him with such force that it rattled the tiny window built into the roof. The lock clicked into place and Elvie was alone.

It took a few minutes before she could move again, and she put her hand to her face. She winced as her fingers found the area he had struck her. It throbbed painfully and felt warm to the touch. Tears filled her eyes again, but this time she fought them back. It was time to stop being a child. Crying was pointless. She needed to figure a way out of this room to start with, and then she needed to get some help.

But who will help me? The police? They’ll be the same here as they are at home, anything overlooked for the right price. Who will help me, Noni?

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she considered what to do. If only Noni hadn’t died, then none of this would be happening.

Sitting back against the wall, she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself tightly. How will I get out of this?

Wear Street, Sunderland ––3 November

Gaz and the other man, Danny, held Nita between them and made their way quickly from the van through the faded front door to the terraced house on Wear Street. Nobody would notice them, even if it was daylight; the area was rough and there was a code, a form of honour among those destined to live on the other side of the law. No one would tell, even if they knew what was happening inside the dingy house.

They dragged Nita through the porch and into the hall. Wallpaper hung off the walls, peeling and damp-smelling. A small table had been placed at the foot of the stairs and a Filipino woman sat filing her nails. She glanced up as they approached.

‘Attic. Rocko want her there for training.’ She pointed towards the stairs, needle scars evident along the pale inside of her arm. If you looked closely, you’d see the pinprick of her pupils; if she’d opened her mouth, her teeth would have been discoloured and missing in places. She looked about fifty years old, but she was only twenty-one. She’d lived in houses like this one since she’d been fourteen. Then, she hadn’t been allowed to leave. Now, she chose to stay because they fed her habit.

Gaz and Danny pretty much carried Nita up the bare stairs to the room right at the top. The other doors in the house were all closed. Muffled sounds came from behind some of the doors. The rest were silent.

The attic walls were covered in thick grey material, the kind used to soundproof music studios. There was a chair with straps on in the centre of the room, and a computer desk in the corner. A small unit was beside one wall, and it was stiflingly warm. The men dropped Nita onto the chair and Gaz applied the straps, then turned towards the man who was seated at the desk.

Rocko.

His very name brought about shivers of fear in the circles they ran. He was a hard-arse, took no shit from anyone, and was rumoured to have killed men just for looking at him wrong.

‘Is she ready for me?’ he asked, without turning around.

‘She’s still out cold,’ said Danny, suppressing a shudder. He hated what Rocko did in here, how he ‘taught’ the girls he was brought. His methods were hands on, and Danny had no inclination to stay. He’d stayed just once, and it was enough to make him sick to his stomach. He wouldn’t want to be the girl right now. Taking debts with the wrong people meant he had to transport the girls; that was his repayment. And it didn’t matter how far away he tried to run, there was always someone waiting to bring him back.

Danny sighed and turned to leave.

‘You not gunna stay and watch? It cracks me up.’ Gaz nudged Danny in the ribs as he spoke, an evil leer passing over his face as