Dammit, why hasn’t Jax called me back yet? He could have talked some sense into me. When I walked through the door to see her bent over the sink that was the last of my control. I have never felt such a pull to a woman in my entire life, a need to possess beyond all reason. I took her without protection, and at that moment, I couldn’t breathe let alone think. She was made for me, and I didn’t protect her. Not that she would have to worry about her health from me, because I have never gone unprotected, however, I didn’t protect her from pregnancy either. I have a hard time regretting the possibility that she could be pregnant now. Just days ago, I pictured her swollen with my child, and I want to kick my own ass for my selfish thoughts, considering she was still mostly unconscious.
Jax is going to have a field day with this and maybe kick my ass for me. He is the ultimate protector of women. Even when we used to share, he was always the nurturer while I just dominated and gave physical pleasure. Oh, he was dominant too, except when I walked away, he stayed and cuddled.
For the first time in my life, I can’t bring myself to walk away. I need her like I’ve never needed anyone. I crave the tight clasp of her body to burn me every night and several times throughout the day. My body wants her hands stroking every inch of me. “Just great,” just the thought of her touching me has woken the beast, and he is up and ready to play. No way am I going to take advantage of her again. The next move will have to be hers to assuage the guilt I already feel.
Sliding out of bed slowly so as not to wake her, I throw on track pants and head to the kitchen for more solid food.
As I walk into the kitchen, my phone starts to buzz. To look at the caller I.D. is a waste of time because only a few people have this number. “Jax buddy, how are you?”
“Better than you I’m guessing. Sorry, I didn’t call sooner, what’s up, Mate?”
“I need your help but can’t discuss it over the phone. Can you meet me?” Not sure if exposing her is the safest way to go about it, but I owe it to her to help her discover who she is and what happened to her. I know Jax will be as discreet as possible and there’s not much research I can do holed up on the mountain.
Jax is undercover FBI. We have worked several cases together and through some horrible experiences have become like brothers.
“Sure thing. Same place, name a time?”
Trying to decide when would be the soonest I could leave her for a few hours, we decide on tomorrow at 3:00 pm. I need to convince myself to keep my hands off of her until I can give her answers, so I stay on the porch until well after the sun has gone down. Please God, don’t let me find out she has a boyfriend or that maybe she’s engaged to be married. That is not something I considered while making love to her.
From the moment I found her I have considered her mine and nothing I find out about her will change my mind on that. The lack of a ring is something that brings me peace.
It’s pitch black by the time I move inside and slowly make my way upstairs to check on her. Slowly pushing open the door, so I don’t wake her, I stare at the vulnerable girl that I have taken advantage of. Guilt overwhelms me, so I decide to sleep in the guest room across the hall to give her some reprieve. How will she feel once she wakes up? Will she cry rape and demand I take her to safety? I am sick to my stomach when I crawl into bed. I leave the door open, so I can hear her if she cries out in her sleep.
~Unknown~
As the sun rises, orange hues slowly spread over the floor. With it comes a feeling of peace. Peace that I am safe and peace that I have found someone to cherish me. He looks at me as if I am his world and he will do whatever it takes to keep me here. I stretch feeling soreness, but for once in all the right places.
A vision flashes through my mind of a tattooed hand raining blows upon my naked body. Using whatever instrument he has at his disposal, he strikes my back, abdomen, and thighs, all while telling me there can be no damage to my face. He pulls my hair and drags me across the floor, forcing my face into a bowl of water, telling me to drink like the pet I will become. He yells at me and tells me my sister is better behaved and will please her master greatly−That I will be lucky not to be locked away in a cage, only to be used then caged again. Crying and begging for him to let us go and he laughs in my face with his putrid breath and rotting teeth.
“Too much money.” He says. “They want virgins, lots and lots of virgins. Do you know how hard it is to find virgins these days? They pay more for beautiful ones. I have watched you and your sister for months, and I know you two will fetch the best price.”
I squeeze my eyes shut trying to block out the vision. Oh my God! My sister is only 21, and I’m 23. She is so young and naïve. She doesn’t deserve a fate like this. It is my fault we are in this mess because I convinced her to go to a bar with me for her 21st birthday. My dad begged us not to go, but I refused to listen. Telling him, “We are adults, Dad, nothing will happen to us.” So who is the naive one now?
Crying out, “no, no, no please don’t touch me anymore, please just let me go,” only to open my eyes to my beautiful, blue-eyed savior standing over me trying to shake me from the trance I am in. His face is grief-stricken, and he lifts his hands in an ‘I’m backing away gesture.’ I want him to hold me and make the vision go away, but the look he gives me is so full of grief and sorrow that I hold back the words that will beg him for comfort. How much did I say? What has he heard? Does he know now that I am to be sold to the highest bidder? Does he believe me a whore who got what she deserved? The look of disgust on his face says it all before he turns and storms from the room.
Chapter Seven
Console:
*to alleviate or lessen the grief, sorrow, or disappointment of. *give solace or comfort.
~Derek~
When she cries out, I stumble out of bed to rush down the hall to my room. Appearing to be in the middle of a nightmare, I reach over to wake her gently, but her haunting words stop me dead in my tracks. She’s begging not to be touched again and to be freed. How can I live with myself after what I have done?
Storming down the stairs, I slam my way outside cursing my very existence. 3:00 p.m. is too late to meet up with Jax; it has to be now. I make the arrangements to meet in an hour and move back inside to grab clothes. “Shit” all of my things are in the closet. I don’t know if I can bear the look on her face when I go to my room; nevertheless, I can’t go naked. Opting for the clothes I took off last night; I head to the guest room across the hall from my bedroom. I call out “ make yourself at home; I’ll be back in two hours,” and leave quietly.
The drive down the mountain is the longest of my life. What the hell am I going to tell Jax? “Hey Buddy, I found a broken and bloody woman and decided to take advantage of her. Now she is so traumatized that she is having nightmares about me touching her again. How do I explain my need to possess and claim this innocent woman? Why is the obsession to be the first and last man to ever take her body, heart, and soul, consuming me? These thoughts have taken my control and shredded it to pieces. My actions have been unpredictable, unforgivable.
My need to fix this and help her is so great, the pain in my gut so crippling, that I can’t remember the twenty-mile drive down the winding road. On my bike, that would have been a death sentence. However, I keep my Ford F350 on site for unpredictable weather. Before I know it, I am parked at the general store. Knowing Jax is still at least twenty minutes away; I go into the store for much-needed supplies. She will need more than chicken broth and Jell-O to give her strength. Moving back out to my truck to load my groceries, I climb back inside the cab to wait for an ass chewing of a lifetime.
Leaning against the wheel with my face buried in my hands, a knock on the window jerks my head up. Jax takes in my appearance, and I can tell by the look on his face, he thinks someone died. Slowly I nod, move from the truck and head to the co
ffee shop at the back of the store in silence.
“Whatever it is we can fix it.” He pulls me into a one-arm hug. “You’ve got me worried here, Mate; talk to me.”
I relay details from pulling onto my drive that fateful afternoon to now, leaving out the intimate details of the most incredible sex I have ever had. The look on Jax’s face tells me that either he is as disgusted with me as I am, or is he appalled with the situation of my mystery guest? I sit in silence waiting for him to say something that will ease my conscience, however, what comes next is my worst nightmare.
“Derek, what I’m about to tell you goes no further than this cafe.”
A long pause has me shifting in my seat. Jax looks around to make sure we are the only ones within hearing distance.
“I have been undercover, investigating a human trafficking organization that has been kidnapping college age girls and selling them to foreign countries. There is a high demand for young, innocent, American girls that are to be sold to the Russian Mafia. As of Friday, I am to be stationed in a house four hours from here to guard product. There is conditioning that takes place in the house that is BDSM, and they know I have D’s training. I wasn’t scheduled to go in until Monday, but I was called in early because two of the guards stationed in the house took off with one of the products. The organization believes they were trying to make a black market deal with one of the more unruly products. The boss discovered that the guards were taking her to Canada to sell her to a different organization. The money they would have gotten from her sale would have allowed them to disappear or stay in Canada to hide behind the skirts of the Canadian organization. It is my understanding that a GPS tracker led them to a hillside twenty miles up the mountain. It’s believed that they got off of Interstate 91 in Hartford to lose a tail and that is why they ended up in this area. They found the guards dead but did not find the product. Their car rolled down the mountain, throwing one guard out, crushing him by the rolling vehicle−The other guard was found in the car with his neck broken. There was blood all over the broken back window, so they are assuming the product was drug off by wild animals since her body has not been found.
Although they believe she may be dead, they won’t stop looking for her until they recover the body or have proof of life. Even though they take very strict measures to ensure anonymity, they believe this girl was very smart and paid close enough attention to what she had seen or heard, that she could compromise their whole organization.”
My heart stops beating and then double times. I’m sure my face is green, and I feel like I’m going to lose my coffee. Is it possible that my girl is the missing product? Jax has no idea that my property is twenty miles up the mountain. I have never shared the location with anyone. Is it a coincidence, or somehow has she managed to escape a horrible fate that no woman should endure? She was a virgin, I am sure of that, and she has suffered some horrific trauma that caused her memory loss. Is it possible that even now she remembers things about her abduction and what happened to her? She was crying out, “don’t touch me, please let me go,” maybe that wasn’t about me at all. Suddenly I feel lighter, and the burden of taking advantage is lessened a little.
Jax is looking at me as if I’ve grown another head. I’m sure the slight smile on my lips does not bring him comfort as it does me. I’m ecstatic that she’s probably not horrified with the intimacy we’ve shared but maybe it’s her memory coming back, and that was why she was crying out. I feel panicked now that I have left her alone, scared, and vulnerable. No one can get in unless she allows someone inside, but that doesn’t mean she can’t get out. I left in a hurry; what if she thinks it was because of something she did? What if she thinks I have abandoned her and she chooses to leave the house?
“Jax, I gotta go. When I have more info, I will call you. While undercover try to get info about the missing girl and I’ll help out if I can. I’m not so sure that I don’t have her. She has no memory of what happened to her, but I will dig to see if I can jog her memory.” Rushing out the door, I call back, “coffees on you,” jump in my truck and speed up the mountain.
Chapter Eight
Panic:
*Sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior. *a frenzied hurry to do something.
~Ren~
Oh my God! He left me. Panic sets in after only two hours. At first, I just lay in bed crying for an hour. My memory came back in a flood of horrific images that I had to endure alone. I remember walking out of the bar to wait for the taxi and being approached by a gorgeous man in a business suit who asks for a light. Then digging in my purse, my head bent down, as I search for the lighter I use to light candles in my room. A gasp to my left brings my head up to watch in horror as a tattooed man places a cloth over my sister’s face. As she goes limp, he picks her up and heads for a black SUV. I open my mouth to scream out when I feel the same type of cloth cover my face. Then I feel nothing.
The days and weeks that passed were the worst of my life. I was kept naked and afraid of being raped, beaten daily by whips, paddles, and canes. I was locked away from my sister, not knowing if she was suffering the same fate, praying that she wasn’t. They told me never to look at their faces, but I was punished daily for doing just that. I was determined to identify these monsters when I escaped, to put them behind bars so they could never again do this to another human being. They treated me like an animal, forced to eat and drink out of a bowl without using my hands, pee on a pad and the other in a litter box. The trainers only called me Pet, but I corrected them by saying, “My name is Ren, it is short for Serenity.” I was punished daily for this too. I needed to humanize myself to them in hopes that they would see the error of their ways. They are the worst kind of monsters, ones that don’t go away when you wake up from your nightmare. They saw me as an object for torture, slavery, and sex. This was not the life I planned for or would willingly accept.
I’d just graduated from college with my degree in Psychology, and I wanted to become a therapist. My sister Tori had one year to go for her Bachelors in Child Development, and she wanted to become a teacher. Our mother was a huge influence on us choosing our career paths because she was our high school student counselor. She loved helping people and always encouraged us to be kind and helpful to others.
My mother passed away four years ago, leaving my father a widower; we are all he has left. I can’t imagine what he is going through. My mom was his world; then she died of a brain aneurysm, and we took her place as his number one priority. He guided us, protected us and spoiled us. We are a middle-class family from Ocean Pines, Delaware that planned well for the future. My sister and I are driven and focused. Scholarships and savings have put us both through school.
I need to find my sister, and I need Derek to help me. Why did he leave me? Was it something I did? Maybe the prospect of dealing with someone so broken has become too overwhelming. My dad and I can pay for his help. He said he was a private investigator, isn’t that what they do?
Slowly, I pull myself together and jump through the six-man shower. I find boxers that I have to tie in a knot at the waist to keep them from falling off and grab another button down shirt from the closet. I like that I smell like him when I wear his clothes.
This house is so beautiful but scary when you’re alone. The gigantic windows have no blinds so anyone can see in from the forest that surrounds the house. I quickly move down the stairs and rush to the kitchen to find food; I am starving.
The workout last night probably burned more calories than a five-mile run. My cheeks heat at the memory of what we did. I can’t believe I gave my virginity to a complete stranger after saving it for all these years. Tori and I joked about who would lose it first except we were both waiting for “Mr. Right.” I have dated a lot but have never felt that kind of pull to any man. I am getting warm just thinking of the way
he held me down. Remembering the look on his face when he swallows me as I scream in pleasure. The epic moment of his powerful thrust as he buries himself inside me. He was so patient as he waited for me to adjust. I am going to have a spontaneously combust just thinking of him and then I will forget to eat.
Moving through the spacious kitchen, I search every cupboard and only come up with soup, which I’m tired of eating, and canned ravioli. The basics in the fridge are beer, milk, butter, eggs, bread, jam, ketchup, and mustard. In the freezer, I find steaks, chicken, sausage, and cookie dough ice cream. Ravioli it is.
Halfway through my food, I hear a loud thump at the front door, then scraping sounds as if something is being dragged across the porch. I freeze and hold my breath. Have my kidnappers found me? Where did Derek go? I will die before they take me back. Grabbing a kitchen knife, I race up the stairs to the bedroom and crouch low in the closet under the hanging pants. I hover the razor sharp knife at my neck just in case I only have a second to react. Already knowing I am no match for the men who took me, slicing my throat will be my only option for freedom. I wait holding my breath.
~Derek~