Chapter 1
I'm going off the rails... Ozzy brought Ike fully awake as she reached for her phone. "I'm already off the rails, Ozzy maybe you should try it." She said, answering the phone.
"It's your quarter." She sighed.
"Is this Ike?" The faint female voice asked from the other end.
"I'm in a shit load of trouble if its not, aren't I?" It was too early for someone to be playing twenty questions like this with her.
"Ummm..."
"Yes genius, this is Ike. I suppose there is a reason for you to be calling?"
"Right, well I found someone that might need your help." It was just then that Ike realized the female on the other end of the line was English, not American.
"And this person is?" God it was like pulling teeth, she thought as she waited for the girl to continue.
"Right, well then, it's one of the girl at our facility to tell you the truth, I think she needs to be saved."
"Why don't you save her yourself?" There was something strange about this situation, why was she calling her if she was there with this girl?
The girl sighed. "I would love to save her, but if I help her, I will be killed too. I got your number from an associate that says you're the best. Now, if you'll take the case, I will fax you everything I have on what is going on here."
Ike was half tempted to hang up the phone, tell the woman, girl, whomever to take a hike, but if she was referred to her then it must be important.
"Send it."
The documents sat haphazardly across the small kitchen table, although the information was through it was the photo of the virtual child she couldn't help but look at, it was as if someone had photographed Ike ten years ago and just now sent the photo.
It was her eyes.
Her hair was filthy, stringy, and wilted, her eyes were strong. Ike could see the girls fear hidden in their violet pools of strength. Her form was tight, athletic strong and muscular. If it wasn't for the dark room and rags the girl wore she would have swore she was well taken care of, but this room wasn't the Ritz Carlton and her clothes weren't Gap. "What could you have done that was so wrong?" She asked the picture.
Ike picked up the letter that had accompanied the documents and found out that the girl had been promised a star-studded career in gymnastics. She had been told that if she came to England and trained at the Bobbihead facilities, she would become a part of the English Olympic team, something she had tried so hard for in the states but always came up short. Ike couldn't blame her for wanting that, the blame solely fell to her parents; even Ike could see that it was a fake name for a fake company. Dumb asses, she thought as she continued through the note. The girl's name was Angelique and she was fifteen. If you can't help her, I don't know how much more she can survive. The author closed the note with a curt "yours truly" and her name. Ike sighed and picked up the phone dialing the only person she could almost trust; Justin Soars-with-Eagles.
It was about five years ago that he fell into her life. Ike left her boarding school; her middle finger held high. She was tired of all the rich bitches tormenting all of the other students, tired of the teachers telling her that she should act properly, tired of being asked what would your mother and father think. Like her parents would care what she was doing or why she was doing it. Looking back it made her laugh.
She could remember the day before she made her dramatic exit from school.
The decision had been made cutting her hair would show them how she felt about their repression. It wasn't so much a hair cut as it was becoming a skunk. She sheered all but six inch strip of hair then dyed it black and green. The uniform she so despised was cut and ripped. Along the seams she placed safety pins to hold together the rips and cuts, on the breast pockets were Dead Kennedy and Anthrax buttons. The cute little tie she was supposed to wear had become a small hangman's noose. Her skirt was split up the side and a pretty garter matching the school colors kept all the boys at bay when she sat down.
Usually her make-up consisted of muted colors, but on that day it was bold and heavily painted on. She went gothic chic, white powder highlighted black eye liner and lips.
She had made it to her third class of the day before someone had said anything about her look. Of course Mrs. Klauss, didn't like her to begin with so when she told her to go to the office, she picked up her books walked to the front of the classroom told the teacher to Fuck Off and proceeded to walk away from her mother and father's life. She had better things to do with herself and this school with these people was not on her list any longer.
She drifted for a time, going town to town in third world countries helping the people stand up for themselves. Although her pranks were petty, people began to sit up and take notice with their citizens and she hoped with just a small kick in the ass their lives were better now.
It was on one of these little "missions" that she was captured by gorilla fighters in the jungles of Ecuador. Ike had been beaten within inches of her life and she feared that all of her childishness would cost her. She was afraid that she would never be able to talk with her mother, ask her if she was proud of her, better yet if she ever loved her.
On the third day of being stuck in a three by three cell, a man arrived at camp, he spoke the language and acted like one of the gorilla's, but Ike could see there was something different about him, something not right. He was tall, his skin was caramel and beautifully tanned, his hair was long and black, nothing like the men who surrounded him at that moment. Her eyes fluttered shut, she was dehydrated and starved, any sleep whether it was welcomed or not felt right to her and that scared her even more.
Ike jumped startled by the man's laughter. She had not been sleeping long when he came to her cage. The gorilla fighters were showing mister tall dark and deadly around the camp, of course she was the main attraction because of her tough beauty.
"Hello, sweet cheeks." He said smiling down at her.
