Konrad

  Konrad

  LeAnn Ashers

  Konrad

  * * *

  Copyright © 2021 by LeAnn Ashers

  All rights reserved.

  Konrad is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cover Designer: Regina Wamba

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Editor: Aquila Editing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Want to read a sneak peek of the first book in the series?

  Adeline

  1

  Etta

  Twenty-Four Years Old

  I smile at the girls as I help them get settled into their new rooms, their new clothes, and their new life.

  Their faces show exactly what mine did five years ago when I was eighteen years old, when my brother took me out of a cult.

  My job now is to save those who need out. I take care of them and help them transfer into the real world. It’s such a life-changing thing, even to this day sometimes I have a hard time.

  But I am here for them, whatever it takes.

  The MC has given me free rein to do whatever is needed to take care of the girls. We have a hotline that girls can call if they are in trouble and we’ve gone nationwide.

  I’ve been doing this since I was eighteen, when the MC took in the girls that belonged to the cult I was in.

  My stomach is twisted in knots at the thought of some of these girls being forced into this. There are some that can’t be saved and they’re suffering in this very moment.

  It’s hard doing this, mostly mentally. I see things that give me nightmares, and it brings up old memories, but knowing I am making a difference is so worth it.

  I was married at fourteen years old. My sister Lynn was married at thirteen and she had a two-year-old daughter by the time she was sixteen.

  My husband was extremely abusive. He sent me back to my parents in hopes that they could fix me.

  Nothing could have fixed me. I had spirit and a will to fight him. I never had a child. I’m forever thankful for that because I’ve helped my sister Lynn raise her daughter.

  For as long as I can remember I’ve been abused, by my father, my mother, and other family members.

  Cults are built on it.

  Religion is their way of justifying it. They take verses in the Bible and twist them for their benefit. It’s their way of using their sick fantasies and making them normal.

  It’s taken years but we are known countrywide for the work we do.

  The Grim Sinners MC and the Devil Souls MC started this. They supply the funds, but in the last year people from around the world have donated to make sure we can help everyone.

  We started a new fostering program and we’re allowing some of the teenage girls to go and stay in foster homes if they want so they can have space from all of the other girls. We only allow people with links to the MC to foster the girls and we have a rigorous vetting process.

  Lynn, my sister, is twenty-two and a counselor. She specialized in this. Together we are changing the world, we are speaking on the way we grew up and how this is happening right under everyone’s noses.

  Not anymore.

  Tonight I’m going on a mission with the Grim Sinners MC. We received word that a thirteen-year-old girl is being married off to a deacon in her church and the Grim Sinners are joining me to go get her and any others we come across.

  I spoke to Lane in great length on the information she has given me, but she had to hang up because she had to get breakfast ready for her family.

  Her wedding is tomorrow so it has to happen tonight or we may lose her, forever.

  Lynn walks into the main house where I am, holding her daughter’s hand. Michaela smiles widely when she sees me.

  “Hi sweet girl, how was school today?” I ask her and pull her into my arms, hugging her tight.

  She squeezes me tightly; she is truly the sweetest little girl. “It was okay. I’m starving.”

  I laugh and smooth down the back of her hair. “Tell the cook to make you a snack before dinner, sweetheart.”

  She takes off running and I look at my sister. “Are you ready for tonight?”

  She nods, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I am. I’ll probably stay in the apartment upstairs tonight because I don’t know how long it will take once you bring her here.”

  Lynn is the person who helps get everyone adjusted emotionally. That’s the most important part, honestly. The internal fight is the biggest struggle. You are so brainwashed, trained to think a certain way, you just can’t help but fight yourself.

  The bravery of these women astounds me—it takes extraordinary courage to take a chance, reach out to me, knowing if they’re caught the consequences would be dire.

  “That’s a good idea. Rosie is struggling also. I heard her crying in the bathroom if you want to check on her.”

  Lynn hugs me and moves through the house to Rosie’s room. She was rescued last week after she was forced to marry her uncle. It was a complete surprise to her and she finally had a chance to call us a week after she was married. She was his eighteenth wife.

  Michaela, now seven, was three when my brother took us out of that life. She was young enough that she wasn’t affected and I’m thankful for that more than anything.

  My phone buzzes, letting me know that the guys are driving through the gate. “Lynn, I’m leaving!” I yell up the stairs and grab my bag, running outside.

  I’m confident in my training. I was trained by a Navy SEAL that trained some of the guys in the MC. It was not like their training at all, but I can shoot and I can defend myself—and someone else if it came down to it.

  Three large SUVs pull to a stop in front of the building. Lane gets out, with Smiley and Wilder, and then I can’t stop the grin when I see my brother Vinny get out also.

  He almost always joins me to make sure I’m safe. This hits close for him also. The cults deeply affect him just as much as they do me.

  He comes around and hugs me. “How are the twins?” I ask.

  He gives me that dopey smile that lets me know he’s living his best life. “They’re great. It’s hard to believe they’re turning five years old.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

  My heart aches with happiness, but I long to have my own kids someday. “I can’t wait to see them tomorrow.”

  “We’ll stop before we reach the location to put your vest on, Etta.”

  I smile at Smiley. “Thank you, Smiley.”

  His wife is like a mom to me. She’s here practically every day, mothering everyone here to make sure they’re okay.

  Smiley motions for me to get into the front seat. I hand him my bag as I climb inside.

  I take out my phone to text the girl to tell her we are leaving and we will be there in a few hours.

  We can sneak her out, but we’ve learned that sometimes it’s easier to just bust down the door.

  It sends a message that we aren’t afraid and lets
others know we mean business. We want to be feared, we want the girls or boys being abused to know that we are here and no matter what we will be there.

  The drive there is mostly silent, besides the guys talking about club business, which I tune out because I learned a long time ago to mind my business when it comes to such things.

  The closer we get, the lights grow darker and darker. The houses are all the same—the same style, the same colors, and no decorations.

  Lane pulls over to the side of the road. I step out and Vinny hands me my bulletproof vest, slipping it over my head and securing it.

  “Be safe, Etta. Don't do anything stupid, yeah?” He says this every single time, and I nod, but I know I would do whatever it takes to protect these kids.

  Smiley comes around wearing his very own vest. The guys all still have their cut on. He hands me a pistol with a holster, and I bend over and strap it around my right thigh for easy reach.

  I bend over and throw my hair into a bun at the top of my head, letting out a deep breath.

  I smile at the guys who are staring at me. I know they’re concerned, worried, but this is what I do. I’ve done this over a hundred times.

  I am meant to do this.

  No one protected us when we were kids; we didn’t have a savior. Me, Lynn, Vinny, and Danny, we all suffered, and my brother protected us as long as he could.

  “Let’s do this.”

  They get inside and I don't bother buckling my seat belt. We’re only minutes away. She texted me with an okay earlier. I can’t imagine how scared she is and I know the wait is excruciating.

  My first thought when I pull up to her house is there is a shitload of people there. Fear runs through me. “Fuck, they must have started the wedding early!”

  My heart is pounding so hard in my chest because I’m so scared for her. I know what she’s feeling right now, the absolutely terrifying feeling of knowing that your life is going to be so much worse.

  You’re already not your own person, but then adding on a husband? To them, in God’s eyes, the men fully control you.

  It’s hell.

  I see the hell in every single woman and child. The future is unknown, but the hope is still there in the back of their minds.

  The guys cuss and we step out. Wilder runs behind the house to make sure they don’t try to run out of the back with her. We have had that happen before but we caught up with them.

  It’s been a major learning curve from the start. We learned the hard way but we didn’t make that same mistake twice.

  Asking nicely does not work—a gun in the face usually does the trick.

  Vinny runs right up to the door, kicking it in. I follow right behind Vinny, with the guys at my side and my back.

  I hear a scream the second we step over the threshold. Women are clutching their chests and the men are staring at us.

  Right in the middle of the living room is a thirteen-year-old girl in a white dress with a man old enough to be her grandfather; he looks fucking disgusting.

  Her eyes seek me out from the group of men surrounding me. I give her a nod and a slight smile, letting her know that I’m here.

  Her face is stained with tears and mascara, and she looks disgusted by the sick look on her would-be groom’s face as he smiles at her. She’s dressed like an adult, but it doesn’t cover up the fact that she’s a baby.

  I let out a deep breath as it sinks in. We’re here in time.

  “We are here for the girl,” I tell everyone in the room.

  Silence, then the groom grabs her arm hard. The girl winces as she bends almost half at the tightness of his grip.

  She looks at me with pure panic on her face. My stomach twists at the sight of the fear. The guys beside me take a step forward just as I do, preparing for a brawl. Everyone is just staring at us.

  I pull my gun out of the holster, clicking off the safety and pointing it at the old fucker. “Release her, now,” I demand, my voice unwavering, my eyes trained on his every move.

  I hear a bunch of women gasp dramatically and a few of the men shift in their seats, unsure of what to do.

  The pastor, and the oldest guy in the room by far, steps from around them, moving closer to me, and the guys shift a little closer to me.

  “Satan’s disciples are not welcome here, Jezebel.” He spits the last word and I try not to laugh.

  I can’t count the number of times I get called that. I smirk at him. His steps falter at my smile. I am not a member of his church; his words mean nothing. “Let her go,” I demand once again.

  The girl is shaking from head to toe, her eyes pleading with me.

  A woman and man step forward in front of us. “We are her parents. She has our permission to marry,” the man who I assume is her father tells us.

  I glare at them and all I feel is hatred. “Did she give permission? Did she want this? Did she want to be married to some shriveled up old cock? No, she fucking didn’t. She is thirteen years old. Her life should be about sports and spending time with her friends. Not being a fucking wife, where she will be abused every day of her life and forced to have children.” I unleash my fury on them.

  The father’s face changes to so many different shades of red as I speak my mind, everyone in the room going silent as my words sink in.

  But no one in this room has argued different. Their lives are hell.

  “Give me the girl or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” My voice is clear, leaving no room for arguments.

  The pedo tightens his hand on her, causing her to cry out in pain. I smile. “Big mistake.”

  I lower my gun, pointing to his knee, and pull the trigger. His face shows his shock just before he hits the ground like a pile of lead, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  People start crying, and the men stand like they are going to do something. She takes off running to me and her father swoops in at the last second and grabs her.

  Hell no.

  I step up and grab his arm, bending it up his back, and with one solid pull I break his arm. I throw him to the ground and his wife falls next to him.

  I take the girl’s hand and pull her to me. She clings to me like her life depends on it—and in her case it does.

  “This is not over,” the pastor calls out as I turn my back to the room.

  I look at him over my shoulder. “It will never be over until all of you are dead.” The room is silent once more as my words sink in.

  I will never rest. I will never settle until every single one of these fuckers is dead.

  * * *

  I sit in back with her on the way back while she cries and clutches my hand with all of her might.

  “I just want you to know how brave you are…” I trail off, not knowing her name.

  She wipes under her eyes. I reach into my bag and pull out a makeup wipe for her. “My name is Linda.” She finally gives me her name.

  “I am so glad you got to me when you did. He married one of my friends who was a couple years older than me and she died in childbirth. I was nine and she was twelve when she married him.”

  I hate that this happened. “I’m glad I got there in time too. You won’t ever have to worry about them ever again.”

  She smiles. “I’m thankful for that. I’ve read in books what it’s like to be a teenager. I want that.”

  “You will have all of that. You have so many options in life now.”

  She smiles. “My parents weren’t mean to me. I will miss them but I won’t forgive them for forcing me to marry.”

  I imagine the betrayal of her parents hurts her deeply no matter how great of parents they were. “I grew up in a cult also. I was forced to marry when I was fourteen years old. My sister Lynn was your age. I understand.”

  Her eyes flash and I can tell she sees me in a new light. “I never would have thought.”

  “My brother Vinny.” I nod my head in his direction. “He did also, but he ran away when he was very young.”

  “Is it okay if I t
ake a nap? I haven’t slept in days since I got the news.” I reach behind me and take a blanket out of the back. “I have some friends who want out also—can you help them too?”

  I nod, and she leans against the door with the blanket tucked under her neck. The ride back to the houses is silent as everyone lets her get much-needed sleep.

  We pull up in front of the gate. Lane inputs the code and we drive down the long driveway, passing houses all the way to the big house.

  “Wake up, honey. We’re here.” I put my hand on Linda’s shoulder gently to not scare her.

  Her eyes flutter open and she sits straight up and looks out of the window, taking in everything as the main house comes into view. It’s a literal mansion. The MC built this and the money shows through.

  “This is where I’ll be staying?” she asks, her face showing her awe.

  I smile. “This will be your home as long as you want it.”

  Some of the girls here are so severely abused that they will never recover and they have accepted the peace and safety here.

  Peace is something I understand completely. Some things you can’t move on from, but if they are happy then that is what matters the most.

  The women who don't want to be reintroduced to society have small houses on the back of the property where they live. They all take care of each other and we take care of them.

  If we can give them peace, then that’s what matters the most, right?

  We pull to a stop and Lynn walks outside to greet us. She’s wearing her best smile—the one she reserves for the girls.

  I step out and hold the door open for her. “Lynn, this is Linda. Linda, this is my sister Lynn.”

  Lynn steps closer. “It’s so nice to meet you. Come with me, I’ll show you your room.” Linda takes Lynn’s hand and they slip inside of the house.