#tsohl

The girl wasn't their leader. 

No. Their leader was the short young woman strung up behind them, the one dancing on her toes and biting her lip to keep her agonized cries at bay; the leather restraints doing nothing to ease the pain of her broken wrist. Silent tears fell down her face and she tried desperately to stomach not only the pain of her wrist, but her disappointment in herself.

This was all her fault. She was their leader and her incompetence was the reason for all this. It was her duty to keep their home secure and to know of the threats lingering outside their walls and she failed to do both.

Somehow news got out about them.

The driver hit something big enough in the road big enough to shake it's passengers again and the poor girl was grateful her whimper was drowned out by the rattling chains. Feeling sick from well . . . everything . . . she grinded her teeth and closed her eyes; focusing not on her pain, but how she was going to get them all out of this mess.

Because come hell or high water, that's what she would do.

Even if it meant sacrificing herself in the process.

“Right Hanna?” Asked the little girl as she struggled back to look up at her. “You have a plan, right?” 

Hanna cringed and opened her eyes, looking up for the first time just to catch a glimpse of the girls hopeful expression as light streamed through a ventilation hole. The little boy turned to and when his leader saw his black and blue eyes and broken nose . . . her blood sang.

Who the fuck would do that to a kid####

"Yea, of course.” She reassured her as she tried to straighten herself to look less beaten and haggard. “And for it to work I need you two to be good for the bad men and wait for my signal, okay# When the coast is clear--”

"We’ll go home?” The five year old asked excitedly. He was chained just like the rest of them with his small arms and hands stretched to the ceiling. She recognized him from his birthday party last week and couldn't help but smile softly, even though she couldn't see him.

“No, not home.” She answered, saddened by the reminder of her lost home. It was the best one she ever had, even if it did get crowded and loud on occasion. The thought of it empty, cold, and vacant of children and laughter . . . killed her. “We can’t go back to Safe Haven. It’s . . . not safe anymore.” She paused for a moment as she bit back some tears. “But . . . we’re going to find a new home. A bigger and better home like . . .” she reached for something the kid would possibly find cool, “. . . a cave.”

“A cave?” His voice perked up a bit with excitement. “Like Batman’s Batcave?” 

Despite feeling absolutely nauseous from the pain she choked out a small laugh, glad to have given the kid something to look forward to. “Yes. Exactly. And someday when your big a strong you can protect it just like he protects his city.” 

The cargo van rolled off the pavement edge then and Hanna couldn't stop her agonized yelp when she was practically thrown forwards. Gravel loudly crunched under the tires now, a sign that they were nearing something, and they careened down it until the driver slammed on the brakes; sending them flying forward one last time.

Then the engine turned off; clicking and hissing as it cooled in the cool dark night. Outside bright stadium lights turned on and it streamed in to the small holes of the corrugated metal walls. The whistling and hollering of men was heard beyond the walls and in a matter of seconds the back doors were unlocked and thrown open with the sound of grinding metal.

Everyone closed their eyes as they were blinded and some hadn't even open theirs before men of all different shapes, sizes, and ethnicities, stepped up into the cargo bay and begun unloading the merchandise; unclipping them and dragging them straight out into a filthy cargo bay.

When it was her turn Hanna glared at the floor as her restraints were undone and reeled back at the mans nauseating scent of rancid body odor. She pulled a face and he must have noticed because he grunted and grabbed her by her hair to move her along. Honestly, she preferred this over him grabbing her broken wrist.

The building inside was an old metal factory, a rotting place with walls shedding their rust colored skin; along which dozens of dog kennels and wooded creates were stacked while shackles, muzzles, and chains hung from pegs and hooks. Under her sneakers dark marks stained the filthy concrete and instantly knew what it was.

“Oh, McKroy!" Across the room an overweight Italian man with slicked back hair caught sight of the little spitfire and politely paused his conversation with his business partner. The front man hollered over to the the guard holding Hanna and beckoned for his employee. "Bring her over here! I would like a word with that one."

Hanna recognized Joey's voice and grunted as she was hauled over to the side where he stood dressed sharply in a black suite. He smiled broadly when the guard forced her to her knees at his feet. "Hanna . . . what has it been## Two . . . three years since we last met?" As an early gift to himself for capturing her he pulled a cigar out of his inside coat pocket and clipped the end.

"Fuck you asshole." She informed him stiffly before being violently kicked forward. Without her hands she had no way to break her fall and she hit the blood stained concrete hard and bit her tounge in the process. Under her body her broken wrist was pinned and she found herself desperately trying to hold back any sign of weakness.

Joey Gonzolas, the filthy pig of the illegal organization, hummed happily and as he lit his treat the young man he had previously been speaking to inched closer to see. Like Joey he too was sharply dressed; wearing a light grey wool suit with matching pants, a crisp white dress shirt, and a black tie. His honey blond hair was combed neatly over to the side and his clear hazel eyes studied her with almost complete disinterest interest.

"Do you know how much you've cost me Miss Light?" Joey took a slow drag on his cigar and still seemed to ignore her. "Do you know how many products you have stolen from me in the past five years?"

She was lifted by the guard then who grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so Joey could see her blood stained, bruised, and scratched face. A rather large gash cut across her upper left eyebrow and cheek and the blood from both of those wounds had dripped down onto her white tank top. "Frankly?" She asked with a little groan. "Not fucking enough."

He green eyes drifted over to the man standing behind Joey and narrowed when she found him watching her. "The fuck you looking at?" She demanded.

The corners of his thin smooth lips dipped and he scowled. "She's the Omega everyone's making a fuss about?" He asked unamused, disinterested, and a bit underwhelmed. "She doesn't seem very . . . intelligent."

Joey scoffed. "Oh trust me -- she smarter than she looks." He looked to the guard holding her and told him to get her on her feet, which he did. "Dangerous too. Killed fifty of my men, as you know of course, twenty of Marks, and ten of Pattie's." He shook his head and proceeded to light his cigar. "Finding sound men for work is hard enough."

Hanna smiled and if it hadn't been for the drugs suppressing her abelites, she would have actually glowed with pride.

Conner's eyes lingered on her a bit more now that she was standing, studying her promising figure under her unflattering and filthy cloths. His scowl deepened with distaste but interestingly enough he moved closer and reached out to take her chin.

Of course, she pulled away with a snarl. "Don’t." She growled.

But it wasn’t up to her.

The guard grabbed a handful of her now matted and blood stained curls and pulled her head back so warm soft fingers could take her chin. Immediately she dropped her gaze and met his.

“You cost my company almost nine figures last year Hanna.” He said calmly. "Nine figures. Do you know how much nine figures is?" His eyes held hers and he raised an eyebrow.

She didn’t respond. 

He tilted his head and a few longer blond strands shifted. “I asked you a question darling. Answer me when I ask you a question and if you don't know, tell me."

"Fuck you." She growled.

His gaze dropped and he inspected the rest of her; nice hips and ass, tone and seemingly strong which would come in handy. Poking out of the thick leather cuffs was a thick black tattoo and when he grabbed her wrist and twisted it to further inspect it, she stifled a agonized cry by biting her bottom lip.

And that's what got his attention.

Smirking he twisted her wrist some more until tears pricked the corners of her closed eyes and she softly whimpered in pain. "Oh come on darling . . ." He cooed softly. "Scream!" With that he twisted her restraints sharply and ripped a agonized cry of of her lungs. Her legs gave out from under her and when ordered to do so, the guard dropped her again.

Satisfied Conner smirked and turned to Joey. "Starting bid for her is two million, correct?"

Joey nodded and exhaled a massive amount of smoke. "Starting bid is two million. Those interested are required to put a quarter that amount down to enter the ring." He paused and studied his boss surprised. "Are you interested Mister Clemmont?" 

Conner Clemmont looked back to the woman on the ground and then nodded. "Yes. I believe I am."

Instantly Hanna felt sick and with tears of pain, anger and humiliation in her eyes she growled and mustered up all her strength to lunge at him. She wasn't thinking about her people or her family, all she was thinking about was this fucking bastard and how he wanted to fucking buy her like she was a piece of fucking property!

"You bastards!!!" She screamed. The guard grabbed her with ease and as she thrashed wildly against him more came over from nearby. "You fucking bloody bastards!" The guard pulled her away from the men and she tried not to cry. "Fuck you!!"

Joey belly laughed at her while Conner, who hadn’t moved an inch through her outburst, eyed her coldly, unafraid and once again irritated. "Mmmm . . . your dictation will be the first thing I correct darling." He pulled a check book out of his coat pocket and then a pen. “Though I admire your. . . pluck and passion, I simply won’t tolerate such a foul mouth.” He wrote wrote out the check and ripped it out cleanly to hand to Joey who was pocketed without looking.  

 Moving quickly she approached him and dropped to her knees before him. He smelled like piss and sweat but Hanna couldn’t blame him. She highly doubted that Conner had been allowed restroom breaks. Hanna set the tray down next to her, freeing her hands, and reached out to touch his face. "Conner?" She managed. She ran a thumb across his stubbly twelve-o’clock shadow and in doing so . . . woke Mr. Clemmont up. 

The young man lifted his head and blinked several times before recognizing the person before him; a heart shaped face with soft smooth features; long wild curly blind hair, concerned bright green eyes, and constellation freckles across her and cheekbones. "Hanna?" He made out. His voice was corse and his throat was dry.

With his face still in her hands Hanna called to him again. “Conner whimpered and pressed his face into her soft touch before opening his eyes. He noted the lack of cloths she was wearing, the black sports bra and black shorts, and the sight brought him to his senses enough to lift his head. He knew why she was wearing what she was wearing, he had seen Genki's pets before.

Genki approach Hanna and placed a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. Conner looked up at him blearily, noticing the man for the first time. "Five minutes." The man reminded Hanna. "You better make it count."

Hanna looked down to the floor and once Genki had walked away Hanna started tending to Conner. Tears slipped down her face as she gave him water and food, and he took the subsidence from her quickly and gratefully. When the plate was bare and the glass was empty he watched her as she quickly and silently dampened a cloth in a bowl of water.

"Did he hurt you?" Conner asked Hanna "Are you okay?" He had noticed the hickies that covered her body chest and her neck. 

Hanna looked up at him with defensive but shiny eyes. He watched as she shrunk into herself. "No." She lied. "No. He didn't--." She looked away and closed her eyes as a silent sob wracked through her body.

At that moment Conner wanted nothing more than to be free of his restraints, to be free of them and to be able to pull her body into his. All he wanted to do was comfort her. He could imagine the terrible and cruel things Genki had done to her and it mad him sick and furiouse.

Hanna took a deep breath and pulled herself together. "I'm fine." She managed eventually. She fixed her posture and and turning her eyes back to Conner. "I'm fine and I'm gonna get us out of here."

Conners heart skipped a beat. "Us?" He asked wondering if Genki had managed to inflict brain damage upon Hanna. "Your going to save . . . us?" He asked in disbelief.

Hanna pulled the wet wash cloth out of the bowl of water and squeezed it of most of the moisture. She turned back to Conner and avoided his hazel eyes. "Yes . . . us." She wiped the blood from his split lip, causing him to wince. "Despite all of the terrible awful things you've done to my friends and myself . . . people don't belong on chains." She rinsed the cloth in the bowl of water, squeezed it aggressively, and brought it up to a gash above his eye. Carefully she worked the blood away and cleaned his wound. "And people shouldn't be treated like animals."

Conners heart fluttered and he fell in love with Hanna over again. Her defiance, her perseverance, her determination, and her moral obligation to her noble causes . . . he loved it and he drank it up. A soft smile crossed his lips and he opened his mouth to say something, but caught the sight of Genki approaching Hanna from behind. His stomach clenched. Had it already been five minutes? 

Hanna noticed that his gaze focused on a spot behind her and she turned to find Genki walking up behind her. He had a cold expression that was void of emotion. "Times up. " He said firmly. "Now come along."