Romani Noor is an aspiring chemist- well, possible ex-chemist, after she can no longer afford the rise in her university tuition fees.
Her best friend and sister, Juno, is living across the country with her wife, sending Romani occasional cheques t...
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My breath catches in my throat, and I feel like throwing up.
I'm no longer looking at the three men that I've fallen for. I'm looking at three boys ripped away from their families and trafficked like nothing more than commodities.
River stares at me, tears still running from his eyes, "Say something." He begs, and I swallow through the revulsion clogging my throat.
I take a breath, "Tell me everything." I say quietly.
It takes a few minutes before Slaters deep voice speaks up.
"I was five when Easton showed at our group home." Slater speaks up, looking at me intently, revealing to me his whole truth, "A few exchanged words with the owner, and Easton had his pick of boys.
"He took one look at us three. Val and River were behind me as I tried to square up to him. I knew he was bad news and I wanted to protect the others. He laughed in our faces and told the group home carer he'd take all three of us." Slater wets his lips, and I can feel tears fall freely from my eyes, "I guess he saw my fighter potential. I don't remember anything after that. We ended up here in Spain a few days later, with another group home. We stayed there and were raised normally. It wasn't until I hit my teens that I began my training.
"Val and River were left out of it. They were apparently just incentive for me to do as I was told. I didn't see Easton again till I turned nineteen. He scouted me for his fighting ring, and he didn't leave me much choice. I had two minors to look after."
"So, he trained you to fight for him." I conclude, and Slater nods at me solemnly.
"It's like when they breed dogs for fighting. By the time I got to the age of being able to compete, Easton had trafficked multiple other boys for the same purpose. Group homes are easy targets, no one cares about kids with nowhere to go. They're easy to make disappear." He tells me.
"Why don't you run away?" I ask, voice weak.
Valentine smiles at me, almost pityingly, "We can't. We have no ID, no passports. We practically don't exist. What other option do we have? We can't leave the country, can't cross the border, can't get jobs. We're dependent on Easton to survive. Just as he intended us to be."
Revulsion spears through me in waves. I don't know what to say. My head is spinning.
I drop down into the sofa and put my head into my hands, Baby sniffling around me and nudging my hands with her head.
I look up to the three boys, so much pain in their eyes. "I'm so sorry." Is all I can whisper out.
"No." Valentine shakes his head, "We're sorry. We should have never dragged you into our shit."
We all stare at each other, in different states of shock.
"What do we do now?" I ask eventually, breaking the thick silence.
