“And you’re a dumb whore. It’s pathetic how easily I had you eating out of my hand. I bet you’d have believed anything I told you.” He brings my arms over my head and ties them together. “But that little outburst did confirm what we suspected. Harris told you I was married, didn’t he?”
Harris!
He hadn’t been lying after all.
Isaiah’s the one who has been telling lies. And I believed every fucking one.
“What I don’t understand is why you spread your legs so easily for him and acted like an ice queen around me.”
I try to kick him, but I can’t move my legs with the way he’s on top of them.
“What’s wrong? Your old childhood friend not good enough for you? You think your whore cunt is something special? Just give me a few days; I’ll show you how not special it is.”
I spit in his eye.
I barely register the fist headed my way before it collides and I slip into darkness.
***
I wake up with a jerk. The light in the room I’m in is too bright and it’s hurting my head. The white walls intensify the light. I squint and look around. I’m on a bed and I’m naked. There are two windows, but they’re covered from the outside. I’m assuming I’m still in Isaiah’s house.
I swing my legs over the bed and I’m shocked at how weak I am. How long have I been out of it? There’s a glass of water by the bed, but I’m afraid it’s drugged, and I won’t let myself drink it.
Isaiah.
His name resonates in my head. I can’t believe any of this. How did he manage to completely snow me? Has he been working with Mike this entire time?
My blood runs cold at that thought, because if Isaiah works for Mike, they’re probably aware of what Harris has been doing to protect me. If only I had a way to warn him.
Starting on the if onlys is a bad idea, because now I go through them all.
If only I’d trusted Harris sooner.
If only I hadn’t opened the door to Isaiah.
If only I hadn’t been so stupid.
I go to the door and turn the knob. It’s locked, of course. Just that little bit of walking has zapped all my energy, and I slowly make it back to the bed. How long has it been since I ate?
It’s too hard to think. Isaiah must have given me something for my mind to be this fuzzy.
I lay back on the bed, and my eyes close.
Closing my eyes is a bad idea, because that’s when the voices come and I see flashbacks of the faces of my past.
My dad’s grief before he ran off.
A knowing smile.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Mike. Mike Randolph.”
“I’m a pastor.”
The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Goddess of wisdom?”
“I need you to trust me.”
The last breath of a woman who paid for her mistakes with her life.
“Not the police.”
The frightened whisper of a young girl who had no idea the evil that waited for her.
“Thank you.”
They surround me in my sleep, whispering of last chances and missed opportunities. They tell me it’s too late now and I’m never going to get out. I’m pressed into the bed and I feel the weight of the last ten years struggle to keep me there. It’s not really a fair fight with all of them against me.
“Wake up.” Someone slaps my face.
I think the suffocating memories of the past are preferable to the person beside the bed, and I try to sink back into sleep.
“Wake up.”
I crack one eye open when Isaiah slaps me again. “Go to hell.”
He laughs. “No doubt, but I have a feeling you’ll get there first.”
He’s binding me to the bed. I struggle, but I’m still weak, and he stops my protest with little effort.
“What the fuck did you drug me with?” I ask.
“Just a little something.”
It occurs to me I should keep him talking and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that men love talking about themselves. I bet he’s no different.
“Are you really a pastor?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? People think I am, that’s the important part.”
“But Mike knows?”
“Mike knows everything, why do you think I suddenly popped up in your life? He knew all about the soft spot Harris has for you.” A knowing grin covers his face. “Or had for you. Who do you think called him tonight and what do you think Mike did once your boyfriend showed up?”
It’s too horrible to think about. Harris can’t be dead. He can’t be. I brace myself against the rage and grief building within me, because I know if I give into it, I will succumb to hysterics. I take a deep breath. “Harris killed him.”
His laugh is cruel. “Unfortunately not. Mike sent me a text right before I came in here.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him and brings a knife up to my face. “No more questions. Keep talking, and I’ll cut your tongue out. Mike was way too lenient with you. Let you get away with too much.”
My entire body goes rigid at the sight of the knife because I have no doubt he’ll use it.
“There we go,” he says, obviously pleased with the fear in my eyes. “Since you’re nice and quiet, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. I have three buyers coming in a few hours and before they buy, they want a taste. That’s why I have you tied up. Have you ever had three men before? I bet you have. Filthy slut.” He runs the knife down my torso and positions the tip at my inner thigh. “You will do anything they want.”
I hear him talk through the fog in my brain. At the same time I’m going through the possible options to escape. I’m totally fucked if he keeps me tied up, but I’m not going to ask for anything with him holding the knife.
“Better get your rest now. You have a busy night tonight.” He stands up, and I think he’s leaving, but he turns back and sits down. “You better hope and pray one of them likes you enough to purchase you.” He takes the knife and holds it to my throat. “One way or another, you won’t be here tomorrow. Understand?”
I nod.
“Good.” He puts the knife on the table beside the bed and starts to undo his pants. “I’ve changed my mind. I think it’s only fair I take a trial run, don’t you think? See firsthand what I’m selling.”
I make up my mind. I’m not leaving this room alive. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone buy me. I faced this decision ten years ago, and I don’t have it in me for another ten. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy. I focus all my attention on my right hand. If I can get it undone, I’ll have a fighting chance.
Isaiah’s taken his pants off ,and I drop my eyes to his erection. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just go on back to sleep. I don't see anything here worth staying awake for.”
“Bitch, I’ll wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
“Yes, but you’ll still have a small dick.” I wasn’t sure what I was doing. If I could somehow get my hand on that knife....
But how, with my hands tied? I twist and wiggle my right hand. I think maybe the rope gives a little.
Above me, his eyes grow murderous. He grabs my face with one hand and holds the knife in the other. “What did I tell you about that mouth? Let’s see how sassy you can be when I’m finished with it.”
I grit my teeth. No way is he getting near my mouth with that knife. I’m just buying time, trying to wear him down, until I can get my hand free. I contort my wrist this way and that. Yes The rope is looser, I just need more time.
A loud crash comes from somewhere above us, and Isaiah freezes. “They’re early. Shit.” He puts the knife down on the table and straightens his pants.
Damn, the knife is further away. I’d worry about that next. For now, I needed to get my hand free. I pull as hard as I can, but the rope doesn’t budge. Fuck. I’ve got to get at least one limb free before those men get here.
Someone?
??s pounding on the door. “Open up! Police!”
My heart leaps to my chest, not because it’s the police, but because I recognize the voice and he’s not dead.
Unfortunately, Isaiah recognizes it as well and moves fast. When Harris busts through the door, gun raised, Isaiah’s on the bed. And the knife is at my throat once more.
Chapter Twenty
“Game’s up, Martin. Drop it.” Harris has the gun pointed at us both. “Besides, haven’t you heard what happens when you bring a knife to a gun fight?”
Isaiah is frighteningly calm. “I’m not fighting, though. I’m simply going to cut your whore’s throat if you don’t turn around and leave.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then her blood is on your hands.”
Harris is still standing with his gun drawn, and he can’t do anything because I’m too close to Isaiah. I catch Harris’s eyes and I try to silently tell him how sorry I am. For everything. The knife is pressing deeper into my skin, I feel a trickle of something that’s probably blood.
I twist my right hand again and give it a tug. Isaiah thinks I’m struggling with him and doesn't look at my hands. I wiggle my left fingers to get Harris’s attention. His eyes flicker to me and I hold up five fingers, then four. Isaiah’s watching the knife. Three. Harris nods, understanding something was happening at one. Two. I take a deep breath. One.
I pull with all my strength and my right hand is free. I use the few seconds Isaiah is rendered shocked to push the knife away from me. Harris takes his cue and restrains Isaiah.
“Damn, bitch.” Isaiah is spewing curses, but he’s no longer a threat. Harris waves another officer inside the room to deal with him. Then, with a face void of expression, he turns to me.
Without talking, he drapes a blanket over me that someone has passed him, and begins to untie the rest of my limbs.
“How’s your throat?” he asks.
I put a hand up to check and there’s blood, but not much. “I’m good. It’ll stop in a minute.”
He presses a cloth to it.
“Harris, I wanted —”
His finger on my lips stops me from saying anything further. “Shh, not right now. Later. Let’s get you somewhere safe where you can be checked out.”
“I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”
“It’s for your safety. We don’t know what drug he gave you. If it all goes well, you won’t have to stay overnight.”
Where will I stay?
I don’t ask the question out loud.
***
The hospital agrees I don’t have to stay overnight. I’m sitting in my room, wearing secondhand clothes when Harris walks in.
“No scrubs this time?” He’s leaning against the door frame, watching me.
I shake my head. “No, they had someone donate these for cases like me.”
He sighs and pushes away from the door and stands near me. “Where are you going to stay?”
I bite my lip. “There’s a women’s shelter that’s offered me a space.”
“Is that what you want?”
I look up at him, and I feel so old. He told me I didn’t have to worry about any charges being brought against me. To be honest, until he mentioned it, the possibility hadn’t crossed my mind. “I don’t know what I want.”
He sighs and sits down next to me. “I’ve only ever wanted one thing.”
“Did you get it?”
“Not yet.”
“Mmm.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you,” he says.
“That you were a cop?” I look at him sideways. He has his badge attached to his shirt, and it’s still throwing me for a loop that he’s a cop when I see it.
“Right. I wanted to. But I’d been undercover for what? Almost three years? It was too risky and would have put the entire operation in jeopardy.”
I’m obviously still working off the effects of the drug, because it doesn’t register with me until that exact moment that he has been working undercover the entire time I’ve known him.
“Operation?” I ask.
“We’ve been trying to bring Mike down for a long time. This was the closest we’ve gotten.”
Closest we’ve gotten. “You didn’t get him?”
“Athena, look at me.” It’s the first time he’s ever used that tone of voice with me. That no nonsense commanding tone. I should be put off by it, but I’m not.
When he’s certain he has my attention, he continues. “I had a choice to make. I could get Mike or capture Isaiah and save you. The timing wouldn’t allow for apprehending both men.”
I’m stunned by the meaning behind the words. “You picked me?”
“Yes, I picked you and I’d do it all over again the same way, no questions, no hesitations.”
“But all those years you worked and Mike had no idea. You sacrificed that for me?”
“I did and we got Isaiah, too. You’d be surprised how dirty he is.”
I touched the bandage on my neck. “I doubt that.”
“You’re right. Sorry. Besides, it would be a shallow victory if you had been sold into the sex market and I never saw you again. There will be other chances to get Mike. There was only one for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I’m afraid it’s not all good news.” He takes a deep breath. “Mike didn’t leave alone.”
I don’t want him to say any more, because I have a sick feeling in my stomach about what he’s going to say next.
“We believe he took Vicki with him.”
Vicki. I’ll never forget her fear that day she tried to warn me. Why hadn’t I listened? She had her head in the sink. That alone should have told me she was seriously freaked out.
“She tried to tell me. I should have listened.” I close my eyes as the tears come.
“Don’t blame yourself. The situation was out of your control.”
There’s a knock on the door, and a nurse comes in. “Just have some paperwork, Ms. Hamilton. Then we’ll get you out of here.”
Harris waits to stand up until she hands me the papers and a pen and leaves. “If you want to go to the shelter, I know them. They’ll get you on your feet, help you find a job, get you settled and keep you safe. They’re good.”
I nod. I’m suddenly overwhelmed.
“On the other hand...” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. “I believe this is yours. We found it on Isaiah.”
I take the envelope and peek inside. “Oh my, God.”
It’s my ten thousand dollars. I’m free. It’s enough to set me up for a time if I budget wisely.
“You can move to Indiana and work at a bookstore now,” he says