Heavy Traffick

By CJ Kross

One bad decision leads to another and Ammi O'Shea finds her self forced into human trafficking where she is forced to live her life under a different name and earn her living in the underground world. Convinced her husband cannot love her anymore, Ammi's morale is broken and she cannot see how any other life would be acceptable for her.

Chicago PD's missing person's led by Detective Moore is hot on the case. Each lead goes cold as they hit one wall after another. The case finds new life on an anonymous tip that leads to the greatest rescue story ever told.

Heavy Traffick is a modern retelling of Hosea and Gomer's love story with a twist of current social justice. It will keep you on the edge of your seat until the last page is swiped.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CJ Kross
• Release date: Oct 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311827876

Book preview

Chapter 1

In the grand scheme of things, the day felt normal for Chicagoans. The Cubbies beat the Giants 17 to 2 in front of a crowd of thirty-five thousand. The air show brought millions of beach goers to the Lake Front and they drank beers and ate brats. The Dan Ryan jammed full of Bulls fans.

But for Ammi O’Shea, this was the worst day of her life. She stormed into Joshua’s office and slammed the door. She balled her fists and pounded them on his desk. Her face flushed pink, a contrast to her hot pink shirt. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her lips tight.

Look at me, Joshua, she said, spittle flailed from her mouth. She leaned across his desk, into his face. Her faded toothpaste breath pricked his nostrils. But he looked away.

I’m not mad, she said. She stood. Her chest burned but a solitary tear burned hotter. The tear formed near her nose and Ammi blinked. The tear fell, a crystal excavated from her eye.

Joshua raised his eyebrows. His lips sneered.

His arrogance made the heat in Ammi’s chest flare up. She pulled her arms up and held her hands across her heart but it didn’t alleviate the pain.

Ammi’s lip quivered. He put his feet on up and her temper roared. He did it on purpose and it got under her skin and itched.

I’m hurt, she said, her voice quivered. She shifted her eyes away. His face upset her stomach. She pushed her bottom lip out and blew upward. Her hair waved in the artificial breeze. "We had this dream when we got married. We said we’d start a drug rehab in Chicago. We shared the dream, Joshua. It was ours. But you went behind my back, and did not consult me. You dismissed Sammy for no reason."

He didn’t change, Joshua said. We had to let him go. It’s our policy. We couldn’t do anything else for him!

I work with him every day! I’ve seen change in him. It’s been slow, but he has made progress, Ammi said. My dad hit rock bottom. He seemed unchanged. If someone didn’t invest in him, he’d be dead. The same goes for you!

Silence.

The lack of response triggered a flash back of her dad from when she was in high school. Her classmates teased Ammi one more time. Her dad is a drunk. She’ll just be the same.

But her dad came back from rehab a victor. That’s what she hoped for in her students.

She retold the stories to Joshua. She turned and looked at his face but he wasn’t paying attention. He was fiddling with his smart phone. She stopped mid story.

He looked up and said, You get too close to the clients and you can’t make good judgment calls.

You don’t get close enough. You’ve lost sight. You’re so caught up in doing things by the book. And you wrote it. Change it. For the people. For me. For yourself because you were Sammy Johnson and Sammy Johnson could be you someday.

Joshua rocked back in his chair. He smiled at her and shook his head.

You are so smug, Ammi said. She spun herself, and exited in the manner she entered. She seethed so much she walked into one of the other counselors. Ammi apologized but stomped on.

She ignored her coworker’s calls and went outside. The waterworks came. Angry tears she called them.

The sun beat on her face, warm. But a cold front nipped through the air

Ammi sauntered down the sidewalk. Her smart phone disrupted the perfect curve of the back pocket of her khaki’s.

Her vision blurred but she marched on. Oblivious to her surroundings, an African American man swerved a child’s bike around her. He circled and asked, "Do your kinky blonde hairs wanna get kinky on the back of my bike?

Ammi’s mother gave her the gift of proportion from the back to the front. A good thing in most women’s eyes but it cursed Ammi because she couldn’t walk the streets of Chicago’s North Side without sensing eyes on her.

She recited, I’m married and monogamous.

You have a good day, he said and he pedaled away.

Ammi continued into the heart of Wrigleyville. She tracked the man on the child’s bike as he circled her like a vulture. She shook her head and pushed her way into The Billy Goat. She bellied up to the bar and ordered a Coke, not Pepsi, Coke, and a double Cheeseborger.

She talked the cook’s ear off with every visit. Sometimes he’d grunt, but mostly he flipped borgers despite Ammi.

On the worst day of her life, she didn’t change.

I love him. I really do. And I love my job, but not at his expense. Maybe I should take some time off and make our house a home, she said. That’s what I’ll do. Thanks for listening. How much do I owe you?

To be a shrink, forty dollars for the first twenty minutes. For the cheeseborger, a pretty girl like you: it’s on the house.

That’s kind of you, she said. She flashed the pride of her father’s dental plan at the cook.

She basked in his words but then someone called her name. She turned and her jaw dropped. Her mouth widened and her burnt heart gave way to happiness.

Sam Johnson! she said. I thought I’d never see you again!

I spotted you, and said, I think that’s Ammi. How you been? he asked like an Italian Coach Ditka. She wasn’t sure how a pure Italian ended up with an American name like Sam Johnson and she never asked.

I’m doing well. What are you doing?

I ordered a double to go and I’m headed to the Lake Shore. There’s an apartment in a high rise there that my real estate agent recommended.

So you’re doing well. That’s good, she said. She smiled and nodded.

Hey! Can you go with me and check it out? My friend bailed on me. I’ve never bought a house and I’m nervous. I need a second set of eyes.

I’m not busy, she said. She softened her voice and said, We’ll always help former students., she said.

I’ve got my car parked outside. Are you ready?

I’ve got to call Mr. O’Shea. He’s expecting me back soon.

Ammi grabbed her phone. She tilted her head and slid the phone under her curls and listened.

His eyes fell on her. She turned away.

Voicemail, she said. She sighed. She waited for the beep and said, Hey, Hunny. You’ll never guess who I ran into at the Billy Goat Tavern. Sam Johnson! He’s meeting his real estate agent at a high rise on the Lake Shore and he wants a second set of eyes. Anyway, I love you and I’ll call you later. Bye…

Let’s go, Ammi said. She motioned towards the door.

Sam held the door open for Ammi, and she stutter stepped. She looked up and their eyes made contact. He patted her on the back at the same time the heat in her heart dissipated. Her heart flutter kicked at his touch.

Ammi mouthed the words, Oh, wow. She flashed an involuntary smile.

Sam leaned his way through the door and held it for Ammi. He led the way to his BMW and opened the door for Ammi.

She couldn’t remember the last time Joshua opened the door for her, let alone twice in one day. Her blood discharged to her erogenous zones, like sheet lightning.

Sam ran to the other side of the car, and hopped in. He turned the ignition, slammed it into first gear, squealed his tires and raced east towards Addision Street. They flew past Wrigley Field towards the Lake Shore. Once they were on the road, he popped into second gear and blasted to 35 miles per hour. He pushed each yellow light and caught some red lights. He grabbed his borger out of the to-go bag and chomped on it. He focused more on the food than the road or the speed limit.

They approached the Lake Shore and ran up the entrance ramp. Her stomach jumped with the dips in the road. She smiled and grabbed the handle on the door so tight her knuckles whitened. At 55, Sam hit the clutch and slammed it into third gear and cut through traffic to the left lane. He took the last bite of his sandwich and punched the gas, shifted up again. The acceleration thrust Ammi back. He switched lanes and cut off a car but he made his exit. He mashed the clutch again and the car coasted down the exit.

That’s incredible, Ammi said, she turned her head and followed the passing buildings.

Now, how do we get back to it? he said. Should have gotten the GPS. Oh well. Oh. Turn left here.

East Grand should take you to a street and you can cut over. You can hit Ohio Street. I’m sure it wraps up by the Lake Shore.

McClurg. McClurg. He pronounced the soft velar sound at first followed by a hard j sound the second time.

McClur-jah, Ammi enunciated. McClur-gah.

McClurg emptied to Ohio Street and blended into the Lake Shore frontage road. They drove around the block and parked a couple blocks away and hiked back to the high rise.

They approached the building. The lower level of the high rise had commercial development in it. That’s odd… a Chicago’s Hunks and Babes Strippers on the lower level.

I knew it was part of the complex but I didn’t know how obvious it was. They must pay all the HOA fees.

I don’t like that it’s there. Aside from that, the resale value: it limits your future buyers by a lot because no family will want to be in a building like this.

True. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. It’s everything else I want at the right price point.

I’m being the other set of eyes you wanted.

That’s what I wanted, he said. They stood outside the entrance and gazed up the side of the building.

Awesome, she said. She took in the sight and then lowered her eyes. He looked at her. She felt it more than she observed it.

I know, he said.

She smiled at him. She squinted her eyes and gathered her lips.

Ammi suppressed her smile and Sam spotted the suppression. But he swaggered towards the entrance and she trailed.

Can I help you? the doorman said. He stood behind a counter dressed in a blue blazer custom made for the job and not for the person who worked the job.

I’m scheduled to meet my real estate agent to look at 22 C, Sam said.

The doorman looked down and said, It doesn’t look like he or she has come yet. I’ll go ahead and give you the key, and you and your…

Oh she’s not my…. yeah…

…Friend. I’m sorry. You can go up and take a look and I’ll send the real estate agent up when she gets here.

The bellhop penciled at something on the desk and shifted to his right and one of the four elevator doors opened and Sam and Ammi went in.

Ammi leaned and studied the antique details of the elevator. She ran her fingers across the bronze plating. The buttons were black with white numbers painted on them. She stroked the wood paneling and confirmed her suspicion. They were solid wood.

She refocused and caught Sam’s eyes again. His eyes hadn’t left her. She bowed her head and giggled, Stop looking at me like that, Ammi said.

Sam flashed a smile at her. Like what?

Like you’re twitterpated, Ammi said.

Sam shook his head and pushed the 22 button, in the upper middle part of the collection of buttons. I don’t know what that means, he said

The elevator ascended three floors at a time. It moved at a slow and steady pace.

Sam looked at his phone, My agent is stuck in heavy traffic but he said we can go through it.

Did he say how long?

You know Chicago traffic. The elevator dinged a twenty-first time and the doors opened, first the gate and then the wood.

This way, I think, Sam said . He lead the way and unlocked the door, and pushed the door open. It’s like we’re sneaking into somebody’s house. His head tilted back and guffawed.

Ammi bobbed her head. Maybe we should wait for your agent, she said. She stopped before the door fully opened and Sam walked into her back.

Ammi knew he didn’t hear her because he pushed the small of her back, and ushered her into the apartment.

Heat lightning again.

She refocused and strained her eyes. She gasped at the view beyond the door.

Whoa, ho-ho, Sam said

The smell of fresh paint wafted. Sunlight flooded the room and revealed the sterile Floridian floral and coral décor. The entryway’s small landing opened into the apartment.

Ammi’s eyes scanned the apartment. Sam slammed the door and she jumped. I don’t think we should alone. She sighed. Something could go wrong, but her heart couldn’t convince her brain. She argued herself.

The thought of Joshua angered her. Consequences eluded her.

. Nonsense, he said. He grabbed her fingers and pulled her.

She yanked her hands back and pulled them up to her chest. She lowered her head and looked at him from under her eyebrows. His touch possessed the ambiance more like a lightning bolt in a rain wrapped tornado.

Stop it, she lied. She enjoyed his touch. Maybe because of the rage she experienced towards Joshua still. But maybe not. He didn’t cross her mind.

Sorry. He raised his hands and did the ‘discount double check’ cheer.

But Sam led them down the ceramic tile stairway.

To the right, lay an open kitchen with granite counter tops, an island, stainless steel appliances. The gas stove was a commercial grade with a flat grill between the burners. The living area was like an indoor arena, longer than it was wide; laminate wood covered the floors.

I picture this being the dining room, Ammi said; quiet like she was at a funeral.

A big sofa faced them and a love seat sat perpendicular to it. Two armchairs faced the sofa. A white wood laminate, glass top coffee table sprawled in the center. A matching oval end table between the two armchairs.

In the middle of the oval table sat a silver platter, with an ice bucket in the middle. The bucket housed a bottle of Barefoot red wine and four wine glasses. The glasses were staged upside down and equidistant on the tray, from the bucket.

Windows stretched from the end of the apparent dining room, around the southeast corner and across the entire width of the living room. The windows allowed the flow of light from the sun. The windows hung low to the floor and blended with the French doors. The doors opened into the dining room.

The view of the cityscape drew Ammi’s attention. She pressed her nose up against the glass doors and panned the deep blue Lake Michigan, Lincoln Park, and Navy Pier. Can I go outside? she gasped.

I don’t see why not, Sam encouraged.

Ammi fiddled with the lock and turned the brushed nickel crescent handle. The door opened with a poppysmic. A cool rush of air filled the whole apartment and made Ammi’s sleepy curls dance like wild women on spring break in Cancun. She squinted and stepped outside. The wind died to a mellow breeze once outside.

Ammi smiled and basked in the August sun. Cityscapes calmed her. She soaked in the view of the Ferris Wheel. She observed the hustle and bustle of ant-sized cars on the Lake Shore. Beyond the Lake Shore Drive, people threw Frisbees, rollerbladed and jogged the waterfront. Being above the city empowered Ammi more than being in it.

The waves on Michigan broke peaceful and went on forever to the east. To the south, the lake tapered into Indiana. To the north, it never ended. The horizon looked the same. She watched Illinois disappear into Wisconsin. She believed Michigan and Ohio and Upstate New York and the CN Tower in Toronto were in view. She stood on top of the world, in the shadow of the John Hancock Center and the building formerly known as the Sears Tower.

Sam poked the small of her back with his index finger. She jumped and let out a squeak. That darn lightning bolt again.

Don’t push me, she said. I thought I was falling. she craned her head, tilted her chin and smiled. Both Sam’s hands grasped crystal goblets and fermented grapes.

Wine, he announced. It’s not decoration. It’s complimentary in high end real estate like this. He gestured one glass towards Ammi.

I can’t.

Are you pregnant?

No, I … the Bible forbids it… Out loud it sounded silly.

Does the Bible really say you cannot drink anything? he teased.

We can drink whatever we want, except alcohol. We shouldn’t touch it because we might fall into drunkenness.

You won’t get drunk from one glass. You deserve it.

She looked at the wide-mouth glass. The dark red wine swirled and hypnotized Ammi. She lost herself in a trance but her came out of it and said, Maybe I do deserve it. That didn’t sound so silly, so she took the glass. She swung her hand back and forth like people do on TV. In a different life she might have been a wine connoisseur.

She stared into the glass and held it up with one hand to the sun. She proposed a silent toast in honor of the sun. Her eyebrows lowered and she examined the content. It’s too pretty. I’d wear this color for a lipstick. Maybe an evening gown.

She put her lips up to the rim and tilted the glass. The wine touched her lips and she puckered but she hadn’t tasted it yet.

Sam snickered. You look like a virgin on the verge. This won’t hurt like that, it’s a drink.

Her lips skimmed the wine; she glared at him over the rim of the glass. The silken texture made Ammi smile. Her rounded clover shaped nose dangled above the wine. She anticipated a cringe but the sweetness surprised her, like nothing she ever experienced. It overwhelmed her nostrils and forced the aromatic taste. If ninety percent of taste were smell this would delight Ammi. She opened her mouth and like floodgates, the wine poured in, surrounded her teeth and hugged her taste buds. She drank it easy. She fell in love with wine.

She remembered one other time when her mouth filled with as much liquid sweetness. She was thirteen. She visited her cousins in the Atlanta suburb of Stone Mountain. They had a patch of ripe wild muscadines in their backyard. The first bite exploded with juicy sweetness. The wine didn’t require a bite into a wad of mucous substance but she obtained the sweet reward anyway. The wine kicked Ammi in the jaw like a vinegar based barbeque sauce. It sassed Ammi’s taste buds all the way into the marrow of her jawbone. The alcohol swept down her virgin throat. She enjoyed the first swallow, burn and all. Real good, she said. She took a second sip.

It opened Ammi up and she engaged in idle chit chat. They talked weather and sports. They laughed and told stories of their pasts and relished in pieces of silence.

Sam walked in the apartment and set his glass down. He picked up the bottle and poured another fourth of glass for himself. She giggled at him. She welcomed the attention his eyes gave her body. He filled her glass, a quarter, half and then three quarters full.

She allowed the refill because she didn’t experience any negative effects from the wine yet. Maybe the sun gave her the warming sensation and maybe she noticed it more because of the random August. Her cheeks burned and the coolness of the breeze energized her. It wasn’t the wine. Not yet. Drunken people didn’t feel good. They were broken and hurt. She had life and energy.

Her curls waved like winter wheat on her forehead. She locked eyes with Sam. Her skin caught on fire.

She shifted her eyes and nipped at her wine.

He talked again so she turned and watched him talk. She held her glass in front of her mouth and waited.

Sam’s body appealed to her. Joshua was handsome and strong. Sam was handsome and athletic. Sam’s hair was thick and black. It looked wet with sprits of Crew Gel held the spikes in the front. Stubble peaked through his olive skin and his jaw was sharp like a razor. His eyes held mysteries. His eyebrows hung from a ledge and cast a mysterious shadow. His neck was thick and looked like the trunk of an oak tree. The undone top button of his polo shirt showed the top of the smooth of his chest.

Shaved?

Her rosy cheeks deepened and excitement swelled. Her whole body tingled; a sensation Joshua never gave her

Joshua.

Joshua’s image flashed. She blinked and Joshua vanished. His image gave way to Sam’s realness.

Ammi finished the last splash of wine in her glass and held it near pants button. The wine warmed her chest. It radiated into her lungs.

Sam rambled on. Her eyes widened. She spaced out to the white noise of his voice. It grew louder and it irritated her ears. Shhh, she put her left index finger up to Sam’s mouth.

He quieted. He kissed her hand. His kiss made Ammi remember her