11
I have no idea how long I’m trapped in the trunk. Minutes? Hours? Days? I don’t know. What I do know is, however long it is, it’s not long enough. All too soon the car stops for good, and then fresh, cool air suddenly hits me as the trunk is finally opened.
My lips are dry, my skin soaked in sweat, and my bones feel like jelly.
I should probably be terrified right now. I should probably feel something at least.
All I feel is numb.
I don’t really care that I’m being dragged out of the trunk. I don’t care that I’m dropped unceremoniously in front of someone horrifyingly familiar. I don’t care that Brian is glaring down at me. I don’t care when he reaches out and takes a swing at me, slapping me hard across my cheek and shoving my head into the side of the car. Even the pain from that impact quickly fades to nothingness.
I have never felt so detached before and wonder if this is a good thing.
Obviously, fun things aren’t for me in my future. Even considering thinking about my recent past is a no-go zone, so why not stay in my own head? Why not keep feeling numb?
“… sure you didn’t drug her?” Brian’s voice floats inside my head.
“Nah, just knocked her out. She’s probably got a concussion. If you want her alive for whatever you want to do, perhaps refrain from damaging her head any further,” Ken says simply.
Brian’s response to that is a grunt.
“You get the file?”
“Yes.” Ken ruffles around his pocket before pulling out the USB. He stares at it for a moment, perhaps second-guessing what he’s doing. Then he makes his choice when he passes it over to Brian.
“And you’re sure there aren’t more copies?”
“Zander told me before I shot him that this one is the only one. He was trying to wipe his hands of it. Said it was giving him too much heat.”
I blink slowly as those words sink in.
Zander never told him that. In fact, Ken never asked. Is he lying on purpose because he realizes he fucked up? Or does he hope somewhere out there another copy exists and these guys will be brought down?
He said he wasn’t part of this to Zander, but he must be. He wouldn’t have committed murder and given me to Brian if he wasn’t connected. Still, maybe part of him wants to be caught.
Then why not leave Zander alive?
“Well, having a fucking building explode tends to make people antsy. Nice work with that, by the way.”
When Brian gives Ken the compliment, I realize Ken’s betrayal of Zander is even worse.
“How about you, bitch?” Brian crouches in front of me, gripping my throat with a firm hand. “You make any other copies?” He squeezes his hand over me then, cutting off my air supply while giving me a sinister smile. He’s enjoying this.
I shake my head the small amount I can move.
He just stares at me, watching as my eyes water.
I can’t help panicking as I struggle to breath. My hands move out of habit as they scratch his arm, but he’s too strong.
Why am I even struggling? Isn’t this a much nicer death than what is likely planned for me?
“I’ve dreamed about you being here with me. I’ve fucked my fist so many times to the thoughts of what I’m going to do to you,” he hisses as he releases me.
I drag in painful breaths as I cough and splutter. My lungs burn, my skin itches, and bile bubbles away inside me as I try not to vomit over myself.
“I did as was asked. I want my money,” Ken demands, not at all disturbed by Brian’s words to me, or his actions.
“You don’t care what we’re doing here?” Brian asks him, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you’re doing here. I just killed my son’s best friend; I certainly don’t care about some woman I’ve never met before.” Ken’s voice is cold.
“Good. I might be in touch if we need any further assistance from you.”
Ken’s eyes narrow on Brian. “In touch? I don’t see why—”
“You killed a man tonight. I own you now,” Brian ruthlessly states.
Ken glares at him, but he doesn’t comment further. Perhaps he can sense the deteriorating situation.
“Get lost. You’ve got a murder to cover up. You’ll have your money tomorrow,” Brian snaps.
Ken gets in his car and drives off, not another word spoken.
Still, I feel numb.
It’s probably weak to want to stay trapped in my state of mind. Is there a rule book that says I have to be strong?
“You gonna walk on your own, or do I need to drag you?”
It must take me too long to answer because, within moments, Brian pulls on my ponytail, dragging me across a dusty warehouse floor.
I scratch at his hands, trying to get him to release me, as I kick out to gain traction with the floor so I can lift myself up.
When he finally drops me, it isn’t because of my attempts. It’s because we have reached a new door.
He pulls out a key and undoes the padlock, and as soon as he opens the steel door, reverberations of cries and moans echo from inside.
Brian picks me up, shoving me against the archway of the door, and steps into me, his erection digging into my waist. “As much as I’d love to begin our fun right now, you’ve caused a lot of headaches for a lot of people. Therefore, I must wait to have my fun until the rest are here. For you, there will be a live audience.”
I shiver as his words send a wave of terror over me. Then I struggle to grab ahold of my numbness. I need it. I can’t do this without it.
“So quiet, my pretty?” He reaches out and caresses my face, his touch digging into my cheeks after a while, and then he fists my chin, ripping my head to the side so fast I feel dizzy. “Don’t worry; you’ll be screaming in no time. They all do.” Then he pushes me through the doorway.
Whatever hell I just stepped into is covered in darkness. However, there is no mistaking the cries and moans of pain.
Where am I?
Just as that thought filters through, Brian turns on the overhead light.
The images I see slap me, and I know that, for as long as I live, no matter if that might only be a short time, I will never forget this.
Nine women, all in cages, all naked, and all looking abused and dead inside.
“I wished so many times I could hurt you when we were dating. You fit their profile, you know. No family, no close friends, a job that is done alone. Your temp work makes you as forgettable as any of these women. You could die today and no one would care. So many times I wanted to bring you here.” He sounds wistful. “But then I knew I would never find a girlfriend as stupid as you.
“You never asked me questions. You never wondered over our lack of a sex life. You didn’t care that I left you for weeks at a time. You were the perfect cover. So, I had to restrain. But now? Now I can do whatever the fuck I want and no one will give a shit. You are worthless.”
His words spark anger inside me. But what really sets it alight is looking over at the women trapped here. That is what he thinks of these women, too? That they are worthless?
He is wrong.
He is the worthless one. He’s the asshole who is sick and fucked in the head. He is the one no one will miss if he were to disappear.
“Why are you like this?” I ask, my voice sounding calmer than I expect, not stuttering or faltering.
“Like what? Smart? Resourceful? Indestructible?” His chest puffs out with each false attribute.
“Why do you enjoy hurting people?”
“Because it’s fun. Because it’s a thrill. Because I hold all the power, and you are at my mercy.” He kicks my calf, forcing me to lose my balance and fall to my knees. Before I know it, he is standing in front of me, gripping my head as he forces me to faceplant his crotch. “Right now, I could make you suck me off, and you wouldn’t have a choice. I could line up twenty men, and you could do us one after the other.”
I punch at his legs, pulling my head back with all my might. But he’s right; I can’t do anything to free myself.
“I can burn holes through your skin. I can pull your fingernails off one at a time. I can do anything I want, and there is no way you can stop me.” His voice sounds giddy.
As soon as he releases me, I scatter away from him, knocking my back into one of the cages in my haste.
I knew after what I saw on that video that Brian was a monster, but knowing it and seeing it firsthand are two completely different things.
“You’re sick!” I yell, the cries of fear increasing around me.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m just not afraid to admit how we all truly feel.”
“No, you’re just a sick fuck!” I snap.
He advances on me quickly, but then he sideswipes me and moves to the cage door beside me. Inside is a woman who doesn’t even look alive, let alone ready to defend herself.
Entering the cage, he grabs her arm and drags her into a position he likes, one which leaves her legs sprawled out and vulnerable. His eyes look into mine, and I see no humanity in them. Only true evil.
“This one is due to be put in the trash soon. I might let off some steam with her. Let you watch so you know what’s coming.”
Bile rises inside my throat at what he’s suggesting.
As soon as he drops his eyes to the poor woman, I search frantically for a way to help her. There must be a way.
My eyes snag on something shiny, something only a few feet away on a table.
I leap to my feet, willing my bones to strengthen and hold me up as I search for a suitable weapon. I find some truly barbaric and disgusting instruments, but one looks more promising than the rest. An electric cattle prod.
I don’t test it out, afraid the noise might gain his attention.
Looking back at him, I see he has his hands wrapped around the almost unconscious woman’s throat as he pumps himself into her, his pants down by his knees.
He’s distracted enough that I could easily make it to the door and perhaps even outside wherever the hell we are. I might even be able to hide and evade what is coming for me, but I can’t do that. I can’t leave these women here to rot for another second.
Instead, I rush back over to him, step into the cage, and place the prod against his exposed ass.
He screams at the rush of electricity zapping through him, the strength of which I wasn’t expecting, so I drop it in surprise. Luckily, the pain and shock forces Brian to seize up. Then he falls onto the woman who has yet to even make a single noise. The only reason I know she’s alive is because tears are falling down her face.
“You’re okay now. I’m going to help you,” I assure her, using my foot to kick Brian off her and having the unintended consequence of his junk facing me as he falls to his back.
His body begins to relax now, and his fists clench as he begins to sit up. I thought the zap of current would have had more of an effect on him.
Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, I reach down, pick up the cattle prod, and shock him again, making sure he’s unconscious by the time I remove the prod, as well as using the exposed part of skin I see.
Is it possible to burn a penis off? Because, the way it’s smoking, I think it might be.
I reach into his pants, which are now around his ankles, and find the set of keys and his cell phone. I place both in my pockets, then try to gently move the woman out of the cell.
I have no clothes to give her, no blankets to offer her protection, but I think she’s past caring now.
The rest of the women are watching me carefully, some eyeing me with hope, and others not even seeming to care that they might be freed soon.
I trap Brian inside the cage once we are out and feel a tiny bit better that he’s locked up. Next, I type Brian’s pin number into the cell phone. At least something good will come out of dating him.
But, as soon as my fingers hover over his keyboard, I’m at a loss of what to do. Do I call 911 and risk the wrong people being alerted? I have no idea how many moles are in the police force. And I don’t know Sasha’s number or Declan’s or Joey’s. I don’t even know Van’s. The website only has an office number, which won’t do me much good now that their building is no longer standing.
Who do I call?
I scroll down Brian’s address book, knowing every person in this list is probably just like him.
What do I do?
Looking around at the cages and the abuse these women have put up with, I know I have to take a risk and hope I’m not going to screw things up. Therefore, I dial 911 as I move about and unlock each and every cage.
Some women rush out, while the others don’t move an inch at the freedom presented to them.
When the 911 operator answers, I tell her I need the police, nine ambulances, firemen, and the bomb squad. I tell her there is a hostage situation. I tell her dead bodies are everywhere, and that the warehouse is full of stolen property. I even claim I see terrorist-looking plans and maps of every major city in America.
I say everything I can think of to get every single department involved so there is no way to keep this quiet, no way to shut this down.
That should be enough, right?
When I’m asked my location, I have no answer to that. I just promise to leave the line open so she can trace the call. Then I tell them to find the address of one Detective Ken Smoke. Zander might be dead, but there is no way Ken is going to be allowed to dispose of his body. Zander is a good man and deserves to receive a proper burial, even if that is the only thing I can give him now.
After getting all that out to the operator, I take a shaky breath, just as Brian begins to stir.
At first, it’s just quiet moans, and some jerks and jolts to his body. Then he grows louder, and by the end, he is screaming in pain.
The women around me shake in fear, many huddling up into balls. All of them are too terrified to run away.
“You fucking bitch! I am going to kill you! I am going to—”
The rest of his words are cut off as the door to this hellhole is opened and three men make their way inside. They look as surprised as I am, and my heart painfully gallops when they also look surprised to see Brian in a cage and in pain, surprised to see some of the women free, and to see me there at all.
What they clearly aren’t, is surprised to see a bunch of naked, abused women.
“What the hell, Bry? What’s going on?” one of them asks as the other two pull out their guns and point them at us.
My heart slows then, and I feel that numbness creeping over me again. The help on its way is going to be too late. It won’t make it in time. They won’t be able to stop this.
I push away the numbness and any lingering fear, and grab ahold of my anger. How dare we get so close to freeing these women just so these assholes can rip that freedom away! These women have suffered enough, and they will be freed from here, dammit!
“It’s all over,” I say confidently. “You guys can either be part of the rescue party, or arrested for murder, as well as all the other fucked up shit you’ll be arrested for,” I tell them, sounding braver and surer than I feel.
“Get down on your knees,” the same man barks.
“I’m not kidding.” I hold up the still lit cell phone. “This place is probably surrounded already. Do you really want to go down like this?” I send a silent prayer that what I’m saying is true.
Unfortunately, hoping for help to be here one minute after I call is impossible, but since they don’t know how long ago I called, I might be able to bluff my way out of this.
“Bullshit,” the man yells, and his friend on the left fires a shot that comes far too close to my head. “Get on your knees, or my friend won’t miss next time.”
I glance around to see all the women who were strong enough to remove themselves from their cages are already in this position. Except, they are all shaking, many are crying, and a few are even just lying flat on the floor.
There is no fight left in them. And I gave them hope that things might be over, only for them all to have that hope ripped away.
I just need to keep these assholes talking. I need them to keep going until help arrives. Therefore, I get on my knees, keeping a strong hold of the cell phone as I face them, waiting to see what they want next.
“What did you do to Brian?” one of the gunmen asks.
“Burned his dick off. You want me to try it out on you?” I smirk, hoping my shaking isn’t obvious, even though the phone in my hand sort of gives it away.
“Stupid bitch. Your death was already a guarantee, but you’ve just drawn it out longer than any of the others.”
“And how many others have there been?”
Instead of answering me, the main guy signals to his two men. One moves to the cage Brian is trapped in, searching his own keys to find the one to open his lock. The other one saunters toward me.
He kicks away the cattle prod I left a few feet from me, and then he rips the cell phone out of my hands and throws it to the ground before he stomps on it.
I hope they had enough time to trace my call.
“We’re going to need to move. Take him and the bitch. Kill the others. We’ll go to the backup location.”
My lungs fill with air, ready to shout my denial, but I never get a word out because, surprisingly and not at all unwelcomely, Declan, in all his bearded glory, sprints into the doorway still occupied by the main guy and knocks him over. He then quickly takes aim and shoots the man by me in the shoulder, causing him to drop his gun, where it lands several feet away from us. This doesn’t stop him from reaching down to his pant leg with his uninjured arm, attempting to pull out a new gun. Declan just shoots him again, a direct hit to the chest.
When the man goes down, he collapses on top of me, and warm blood coats me as I struggle to get his dead weight off.
At the same time as this, another gunshot erupts. I have no idea if this is a good thing or not, but Declan is suddenly leaning over me, not appearing concerned when he rolls the dead man off me.
“Thank God!” I cry, letting him help me up, and then I hug him tightly as relief finally crashes over me.
“Fuck, looks like we got here just in time,” he says, patting me on my back gently. “You hurt?”
“No.” I shake my head, his shaggy beard tickling my forehead, as more tears race down my face and this whole situation begins to hit me. “But Zander, he … he …”
“He’s behind you,” Declan finishes.
I’m so shocked by his words that I don’t understand what he means. “What?”
“He’s behind you. To be honest, he’s giving me a pretty huge glare. Don’t think he’s happy about you hugging me for this long.” Declan doesn’t loosen his grip around me, though. Perhaps he is afraid I might faint at any second.
I shake my head a little, my tears briefly clearing up.
“Why would you say that? He’s dead!” I snap, angry that he’s making a joke out of this.
“Then he looks pretty good for a dead guy.”
“Ava,” Zander’s voice sounds from behind me, and I quickly turn around, almost falling over at how dizzy that makes me. Zander reaches out to steady me, even though Declan hasn’t let go of me yet.
“How …? I saw you get shot,” I accuse him, though I’m undeniably happy he’s alive. Or have I hit my head and am dreaming this?
“Yeah, that hurt like a son of a bitch.” He rubs his chest then, wincing.
“How are you alive?” Zander might seem indestructible, surviving a bomb and now being shot twice, but no one is that lucky or bulletproof.
“I was wearing my bulletproof vest. I wear one for anything remotely dangerous. Other than the night we took the USB, I didn’t think I needed it again yet. Then my office was bombed. While it wouldn’t have made a huge difference if I had been wearing it, it would have protected me from some of the glass. I decided, until this case was over, I’d wear the vest every time I left the house. I thought it was an overreaction to wear it to see Ken, but I promised myself I wouldn’t take any more risks for Van’s sake. If I’d known …” He shakes his head, pain shooting through his expression while betrayal sits deep within his eyes. “I would have never taken you there if I thought he …”
“So, you’re … you’re alive?” I dumbly ask. I’m speaking to him, so of course he’s alive.
“Yep. Luckily, he didn’t decide to shoot me in the head,” he says, taking me back to that moment when I felt so useless, so helpless. I couldn’t do anything but hug Zander’s head to me. Ken said it made it easier to shoot him, not being able to see his face, but it turns out it meant he couldn’t deliver a headshot, even if he had wanted to.
“Your head …?” I stare at the dried blood and dark bruising around his forehead.
“Gonna have a headache for a while, probably should get checked out, but I’ll live. Did he …?” His voice cracks. “Are you hurt?”
Before I can answer, Brian starts up his cursing again, still cupping his manhood. Zander glares at him, immediately taking a step toward him, no doubt ready to do something to shut him up, although he’s still locked in his cage.
The second man is bleeding on the ground, his keys spilled out beside him. The other man who did all the talking appears to be knocked out.
“I shoved a cattle prod over his junk until he passed out. Apparently, that hurt,” I tell Zander, who surprises me with his laugh.
“Fuck yeah.” He gifts me with another large smile before he turns serious again. “You okay, though?”
I feel Declan move past me. He must have left to get blankets, because he’s covering up the women and helping them to sit up or stand.
I hear sirens blaring in the background, their sounds growing closer. Someone is on their way, and hopefully, they are on our side.
“I’m fine, I think. I called 911. I asked for … well, everyone. I didn’t know who to trust.”
Zander gives me a small chuckle. “Heard your 911 call on the way over here.” He steps forward, finally bridging the gap between us, and gently cups my face. “You did good. We’re going to have so much law enforcement here that there is no way to cover anything up.” He lightly caresses his thumb over my sore cheek. “You look raw here; did he hit you?” His voice is little more than a growl.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug it off, my relief dragging me down as emotions begin to overwhelm me. “I can’t believe you’re okay. I thought … I was sure you were dead.” I cry now, everything hitting me again, and Zander wraps me in his arms and holds me close, keeping me standing.
“Let’s get out of here and into some fresh air,” he suggests.
“But the others,” I say through my tears. “We need to help them.”
“You already have. Help is almost here. They will be seen to soon enough.” Zander lifts me into his arms princess style and carries me out of that toxic room and through the outer area. I’m surprised to find it light outside as the sun begins to rise.
“Where are we?”
“We’re just off I-94, close to the Wisconsin border.”
Shit, just how long was I in that trunk?
“How close were you to me before I called 911?”
“We were close. Jerry was able to remotely trace Clarke’s phone from the numbers you gave us. We would have been here sooner, but it wasn’t easy to do. There was some serious encryption Jerry had to break through to activate it. Don’t even wanna know how many laws he broke to do it.”
“Couldn’t you have just been tracing Brian the entire time, then? Seen where he went?”
“We couldn’t ever be truly sure when he was going to be here. Declan followed him to a bar where they would switch up cars. It means his car won’t ever be seen or photographed in this area. We hadn’t managed to follow him once he hit that bar. Add in that, he would have easily been able to figure out his GPS was switched on, and once that happened, his next step would likely be to get a new phone and a new number. Then that avenue would have been lost for us in the future, like right now.”
I nod, leaning my head back against Zander and appreciating the feel of him more than ever. I wipe at my eyes, but more silent tears fall down my face to replace them. “That’s twice I thought you were dead. Two times you’ve cheated death,” I tell him, my voice shaky.
“I was sure I had lost you, too. Let’s not do this again to each other, okay?” He squeezes me to him. His words are light, but his meaning is heavy.
“Okay.”
The sirens are louder now, and it is only minutes before the first police cars scream to a stop by us.
We are told to put our hands up, and Zander has to put me down as he tries to explain what is going on. Meanwhile, more police arrive, as well as two fire trucks. I can’t see any ambulances, but later I’m told they had them waiting at a safe distance until the scene is deemed safe.
I did indicate there was a bomb, fire, and a hostage situation. Plus, they heard a gunshot on the end of my call before the now dead man stomped on the phone and killed the line.
I internally groan at the mess I made by telling so many lies over the 911 call, and about the fact that there is no way this nightmare is going to be over anytime soon.
Once the scene is cleared and things begin to be sorted out, I am subjected to an unbelievable amount of questioning. Not only at the warehouse, but also at the nearest police station. Zander and Declan are taken away, too, but at least the women are being seen to by EMTs and taken to hospitals. I doubt their mental health will likely ever be the same, but their bodies will heal.
We got to them in time.
The rest is a blur. Questions, more questions, and finally a doctor comes to check on my injuries. I only have bruises and some scratches, nothing dramatic, but they at least add more evidence to my story.
I’m separated from Zander, but as soon as I am allowed to see him again, he tells me Jerry released part of the videos, sending the parts where Brian is visible to every police station email so there is no hiding that he was not a good guy.
I haven’t heard how he is doing and I really don’t care. I hope his penis drops off and he spends the rest of his miserable life in prison.
It is almost a full twenty-four hours before we are finally allowed to leave, and I’m dead on my feet.
Joey picks us up, and I vaguely remember getting into the backseat with Zander, Declan ranting about something from the front seat, before I rest my head on Zander’s shoulder and am fast asleep.
The next moment, we are outside of Van’s new bedroom at Sasha’s parents’ house. He’s jumping up and down in his excitement to see me.
“Van, please calm down. She’s sleeping. I just wanted you to see that we’re both fine. We’ll be going back home soon,” Zander hisses, torn between being annoyed and wanting to be quiet.
“But it’s midmorning. Can’t we go home now?” Van pleads, keeping his voice down.
“Not yet.”
“Can we wake Ava up and do something?”
“No, she needs her sleep, buddy. So do I. Sasha told me she’s going to take you out later. She wants your help buying a game console.”
“She does?” Van breathes the words out, and I know he’s way more excited about this news than the thought of waking me up.
“Yeah. Can you help her for me?”
“Hell yeah!” he quietly cheers. “Is she going to buy games, too?”
“I’m sure she will, and she’ll need your guidance.”
There is a moment of silence before the air turns heavy again.
“Are you sure Ava’s okay?”
“She’s fine. And later tonight, if Ava’s up to it, we’ll get pizza for dinner.”
“Yes!” Van forgets to soften his voice, and it jolts me a little at hearing the loud outburst.
“Quiet,” Zander cautions. “Go into the kitchen; Sasha has a late breakfast waiting for you.”
I stay quiet, not wanting to alert Van to the fact that I’m awake. I’m not sure I’m ready to face him yet, though I am glad he seems more like his old self again.
Zander was so close to dying yet again, and Van was incredibly close to losing the last member of his family again. Let’s hope he never realizes how close that came to be.
Zander carries me into the bedroom we were using previously. “You need to shower and change out of these clothes,” he tells me, obviously aware I am feigning sleep.
I nod and let him lead me into the bathroom. He doesn’t close the door and none of the desperation from the last time we were in here together is present. I just feel tired.
He methodically strips me, only pausing to glare at a new bruise or injury displayed. Then, once I am naked, he does the same to himself.
As he heats the shower water up, I stare at the dark bruises covering his temple and forehead. They look angry, sore, and I doubt they will be disappearing anytime soon. Every time he looks into the mirror, he will see Ken’s betrayal.
He’s lucky those hits didn’t do worse damage. He could have easily suffered brain damage or even death from those blows.
Just how much luck do we have? Will it be enough to get us through whatever else is coming for us? Or, are we in the clear now?
“What happened to Ken?” I murmur, my voice croaky from all the talking I did while being interviewed nonstop for hours on end.
Zander’s eyes narrow in anger at the mention of his name. “He made it back to his place to find me missing and an undercover police car waiting for his return.” He walks me into the shower and under the water, the warm spray soothing my aching muscles. “Turns out, he stopped off at a bar to get drunk. I suppose I should be flattered that he didn’t think he could dispose of my body sober.” Zander’s fury is obvious.
I rub my hand over his chest in the hopes of giving him comfort. “It’s not your fault he turned out to be a bad person.”
“I had no idea he was in financial trouble. I should have checked in with him more. I didn’t even know Imogen had left him until a few months after she was gone. I never bothered to ask her why she left. I figured it was just a byproduct of losing their son.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I repeat.
“You know he didn’t even have a clue about any of this shit. First he heard of it was when I called him. Then he just used the information I gave him to contact Brian and the assholes in on it with him, and they worked up a deal. If I had never called him, he would have never gotten himself involved.”
“A good cop doesn’t do what he did. You might have placed him in front of the door, but he chose to walk through it. If he didn’t do it with this, he would have done it another way. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
He nods, letting his head run under the spray before he steps back and soaps up a loofah. Then he washes me clean, and I do the same for him.
There is no fun or flirting this time. No lingering touches or teasing kisses. Instead, I feel clean, well taken care of, and safe. It’s what I need. I even allow Zander to dry me with a towel once we step out of the shower.
With damp hair, he walks me over to the bed and pulls the covers away. Both naked, we climb in as a bone-deep tiredness takes over. With his arms around me, I fall asleep, wishing his arms were enough to ward off the bad dreams.
But they aren’t.
I wake up crying. I wake up screaming. I wake up with images of those cages and the state of those poor women. I dream of myself being tortured; of people I know and care about being hurt while I am helpless. Sometimes, I awake and don’t remember what I saw or heard. I just know my heart is racing and I’m scared.
Zander can’t stop these images from coming at me, yet he does hold me every time I wake up, offering soothing words and promises that everything will be okay. It’s enough to calm me, keep me in his arms, and go back to sleep.
For the next three nights, he does this, even with us back in his apartment.
Van has gotten over his panic from our quick escape from the apartment and the drama that followed. No nightmares and no lingering issues present themselves. He settles back into the final days of school while Zander takes me back to my own apartment to collect some of my things.
He told me I will be staying with them for the time being. I don’t argue, because I don’t know how I will handle being alone.
Brian didn’t spend much time in my apartment, but what memories do live there are enough for me to know I can’t spend another night there. Therefore, I need to search for a new place to live.
I’m not sure what is happening with Zander and me. He keeps me close when he is home, but during the day, he gives more statements to the police, and he and Sasha are currently searching for a new office space.
I have been told I will be needed to testify when things end up in court since I was abducted and taken to the building they were keeping the women. I agreed because, what else could I do? I want to put this behind me, but I can’t let this pass without making sure I do whatever I can to ensure this never happens again.
***
It’s on the eighth night back at Zander’s that things shift between us.
He gets home late, which is unusual after only early nights this past week. I can’t help worrying about him, aware that the danger is over for him, yet this world isn’t a safe place.
He slips into bed, and I turn onto my side to face him, feeling his hand seeking mine out under the covers.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“Hi.”
“Thanks for dinner. The pot roast tasted amazing.”
My response is swallowed up when I feel his fingertips lightly touch my thigh, moving the material of my nightie a little to expose some skin.
My breath hitches, my skin flushes, and while the touch might be perfectly innocent, the fact that we haven’t done anything more than kiss since before I was taken pushes my body into hyperdrive at just the thought of more with him.
“I think we might have found a perfect office space today,” he says conversationally, and I try to pay attention to his words when his hand floats a little higher up my thigh, his pressure remaining light and almost ticklish.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. And I made another decision today.”
“What is that?”
Now he touches my hip where my panties sit. There is no mistaking when he moves to the front of me and slips his hand down into my panties and cups my pussy.
I gasp, moving onto my back so he has a better angle, and my legs immediately open for him.
“I think you should stay here until after the trial … just in case.”
His words send a spike of fear through me.
“You think I’m in danger? Do you think they’ll come after me? After us?” I blurt out, moving back to my side and making him lose his grip as I lean over him.
“No,” he quickly assures me. “You’re safe. We’re all safe. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Then why do you think I should stay here?”
“Because I want to do this to you every single night, and it will be hard to do that without you sleeping next to me.” He finds purchase again, slipping a finger inside me.
“Oh …” I lamely reply, my mouth remaining open as I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of him penetrating me.
“So, do you agree?”
I try to think about what his question was. What am I agreeing to?
“Just until the trial?” I confirm as he rubs his thumb over my clit, eliciting a groan from me.
“Yep. The trial might take months, perhaps even years to get through. Then, after that, we can properly discuss moving in together,” he explains, slipping another finger into my channel, and I grind my hips to get some friction.
“Show me exactly what you plan on doing to me every night,” I demand, loving the smile he gives me in response.
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
It turns out, it’s both of our pleasures.
This time when his cock enters me, it isn’t fast, it isn’t quick, and it isn’t full of desperation. But, it is no less passionate. He moves slowly, lovingly, and with precision so I feel every inch of him as he brands me.
It is magnificent.
His tongue makes love to my mouth as his cock makes love to my pussy, and as cliché as it sounds, I know this is the exact moment I fall from in lust with Zander, from in serious like with him, and go headfirst into being in love with him.
No one has ever made me feel so alive, so taken care of, and so loved.
When I climax, it is with tears in my eyes and love in my heart. It is the most beautiful moment in my entire life.
I’m emotionally spent by the time we finish, our breathing heavy and my body riding on cloud nine. Nothing could be better in this moment. Then Zander begins to kiss down my neck.
“That was an incredible first round. Now on to round two.”
Okay, now it’s the best moment of my life.