Before I know it, Devil’s pulling over. I get my phone out, ready to summon my brothers as soon as we know what’s going down. From the radio we hear voices and shouting, the women are being told to get out of the truck and being helped roughly if I’m translating the sounds correctly. My gut clenches at an involuntary oomph from Sam.
Devil drives the van behind a clump of brush, then his hand snakes out and fastens around my arm. “We wait.”
“No, we fuckin’ don’t. We move in.” I try to wrench myself away, but he fastens his grip.
“Not until we know who’s there and what’s going down, Drum. We need to get the ringleaders.”
He can afford to be calm and wait. It’s not his woman who’s being hurt. My hands clench as I force myself to hold back and not hit him. Just as I’m about to have another go at him, we again hear speaking and understand why they’ve stopped.
My knuckles go white as I’m forced to listen to Sam, and the other women, being inspected like cattle. Devil was right, it must be one of the ringleaders who’s turned up, and he’s making lewd comments on the quality of the goods that’s been delivered to him. At first the voices are distant, but as they move closer, I tense myself, realising they’re getting to Sam.
“Hey, Kurt. Here.”
“So, Louis, this is the one?” It’s a different voice now, a cultured accent, American, but I can’t quite place a regional accent. I see Devil making notes of the names we’ve heard.
“Yeah, man. We’ve kept our hands off as instructed.”
“You better have done,” the first man snarls out, presumably at his men.
I hear a gasp, explained by the next words.
“Small tits. You sure about this?”
Devil and I exchange looks; the voices are so close he has to be talking about Sam.
Another gasp, and a protest from Sam, followed by a slapping sound that nearly has me shooting from my seat. Christ, it’s hard sitting here with no visual, my imagination is conjuring up the very worst that could be going on.
“They’re on the small side, but I can get them enhanced. I can have them made to exactly my requirements. The rest of the package is what I expected,” the cultured voice says again.
“Fuck!” Devil slams his hand on the steering wheel. Being slightly slower to catch on, he continues, “It’s her fucking buyer.”
“What does that fuckin’ mean?”
“Quiet, Drummer. Listen and we’ll find out!”
An amount of money is mentioned, again we glance at each other, not having truly appreciated her worth.
“The rest of them going south?”
“Yeah. Some are going up for auction. Others will go on to their buyers. You can take her from here.”
Shit! It sounds like Sam’s not going with the rest of the women. Exchanging worried looks with Devil, I start to think fast. It’s Sam I’m concerned about. We can approach them now, while they don’t expect it. Devil won’t get everything he wants, but we can free the rest of the women, and I’ll get Sam. Devil will have to live with it, his plan is down the drain now without Sam in the transport—he’s fucked. There’ll be no way for him to track it.
As I turn to tell him, he waves at me to keep silent. We listen to the instruction for the women to take a piss and then get back on the truck. The men laugh and jeer, obviously enjoying watching their captives empty their bladders.
“Not you.” The voice again so close the words are obviously being addressed to Sam. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where are you taking me?” Brave girl, she’s trying to get us the information.
“Wherever I fucking want to, bitch.” If I hoped someone with any compassion would be taking her, my hopes would now be dashed. Particularly when I hear Sam’s yelp of pain.
I take out my phone. “I’ll get the boys down here. We’ve got to get down there now. Surround them, get the women out now. You’ll get one of the ringleaders—”
“Not doing that. The plan is to get them all. Find out where they’re holding the auctions, and maybe even round up the buyers. We’ll just do this the old-fashioned way without the GPS. Follow the transport.”
I throw him a look of utter disbelief. “Someone’s fuckin’ taking Sam to God knows where, and you want to go after the fuckin’ slavers? That’s not what I fuckin’ signed up for.”
But Devil’s not listening to me. “Tell your boys to stay out of sight,” he instructs quickly. “They’re on the move.”
Thinking fast, I do what he says. We’ve obviously missed our chance to take them here. Once we’re all together we can stage an ambush. Whatever Devil says, I am not going to let Sam be separated from me. So, I get the boys ready to move as Devil manoeuvres the car around, and we’re speeding back up the track. But Devil doesn’t come to a stop, he joins the freeway, heading in the direction that we’ve just come from. For a fleeting moment I believe he’s changed his mind and he’s going to be following Sam. I tell the boys to get their engines started. Then Devil stamps down on the gas, makes a U-turn, and starts heading slowly back in the other direction, watching out for the truck that will soon be exiting the turnoff.
“What the fuck you doing?” I yell at him.
“Continuing our mission. We’ve just got to follow the transport.”
“But Sam—”
“Sam’s one woman, Drummer. If we lose this chance to put a stop to everything now, how many others will be taken to be abused? And we know where Sam is; she’s got the GPS implant. We can retrieve her later.”
Retrieve her later? He makes her sound like a dog that’s been dropped off at the pound. How much later? What will she suffer in the meantime? “I don’t give a fuck about the other women! You promised no harm would come to Sam!” Not even needing to even think about it, I take my gun from its holster and point it at him. “Turn this car around now, or I’ll shoot you, Devil.”
Devil laughs. He fucking laughs. “You didn’t check your weapon when the ATF handed it back, did you?”
Suspicious, I do so now. Stupid fucking schoolboy error. There are no bullets in it. I check my pockets for my spare ammunition. It’s all gone. Being in such a rush to get moving, I’d forgotten the basics. Without wasting time, cursing, I call for my brothers. Devil can’t go any faster, or he’ll be within sight of the truck. Soon the bikes come alongside. I open the window of the van and wave at the bikes following; they pull over. Using my phone, I give them one further instruction. Devil tries to stop me, but he can’t drive and fight me at the same time.
“When I give the signal, shoot the tyres out on this SUV.” Devil knocks the phone from my hand, but it’s too late, his action confirming that unlike mine, my brothers’ guns weren’t tampered with.
“Fuck, Drummer. You can’t do that. Stop this mission, and I’ll have the FBI pick you up for real. And this time they will search your compound. Thoroughly.”
Right now, I don’t give a shit, knowing I’ll happily go to prison for life if it means Sam will be safe.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sam…
There’s no voice in my ear. No one comfortingly telling me they’re on their way to save me. Something’s gone wrong.
Devil wanted the ringleaders. He’s followed the transport instead. Shit! Am I already out of range? What if the tracker’s not working? As I glance at the man called Kurt sitting beside me, the man who thinks he now owns me, tears start trickling down my cheeks as I start to wonder whether being this man’s plaything for real will indeed be my fate.
What if I never see the president of the Satan’s Devils again? Or my father, who I only recently found? I’ve not even had a chance to learn much about him. Why hadn’t I gotten to know him when I’d had the opportunity? Or spoken more with the other men that I’ve come to respect? And their women too? Me and my bike, my skills as a mechanic, I’d thought my life was stretching out in front of me with no sign of an end. But now, my hopes, dreams, and expectations might all have been taken from me,
and I’m staring a totally different sort of life in the face. I’m pinning my rescue on one man. Am I wrong to think I mean so much to him? Has he abandoned me to complete Devil’s mission?
As my fears grow, I’m unable to stifle the genuine sobs that start coming from my mouth. It’s too much. Why did I ever agree to this? Drummer was right, I should have stayed under their protection. I’m frightened and scared.
The car drives on. Now we’re off the side road and out onto the highway, heading back the way we’d come. As we pass other vehicles I lean forward, trying to wave my free hand to get their attention, but I can’t make myself seen. We race past, a car with a woman held captive inside and no one notices. My captor, however, doesn’t miss what I’m doing—he pulls back my hand with a sharp tug and chuckles. Loudly. He continues to hold onto me with a sweaty palm. His fingers move against mine in a mocking caress. “No one can see in. No one’s coming to save you. Just accept it, girl, stop fighting it. I own you now. You’re mine.”
It’s a wretched twist that Drummer had said the same words to me. Wrenching my hand out of his grasp, I spit out at him, “I belong to no one. You can’t own another human being.”
His beady eyes crease and his lips turn up into a parody of a smile, which sends shivers down my spine. He reaches out and touches my cheek, then his fingers close on my skin, pinching it painfully. “Oh yes, my dear, I think you’re going to find that I can.” I try to pull away, but he waits a moment before releasing me. Just his touch has me cringing, and I’m unable to prevent a shudder. It simply elicits another laugh.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy training you to respond to me,” his voice rasps. “And, just for the record, my dear, your tears and pain make me hard.” To punctuate his words, he places my hand over his groin, making me feel him behind his tailored suit.
Bile rises into my throat.
Then he grabs my hair, pulling me down roughly, so my face is in his crotch. As he does so, he accidentally bares my neck. “What the fuck is this?” His fingers quickly find the small raised lump and probe it, none too gently.
“It’s an insect bite.” I offer up Devil’s explanation, but a rough tug on my hair and having my face slammed back down shuts me up.
He traces it. “You been tagged?”
“No, what?” I try to act surprised. “I got bitten.”
“Best we don’t take any risks.”
“Should we stop and try to cut it out?” The driver sounds concerned, but not about me.
“Need to check what it is first. Poke around too deep with a knife, and I might hit a nerve, it’s at the top of her neck.” Kurt sounds doubtful, and I hope he won’t want his property damaged.
No, don’t do that. I don’t want to be paralysed.
“Bradley, you got a jammer?”
The driver, Bradley, helpfully reaches over and opens the glove compartment, extracts something and waves it at his employer. Without saying anything, he plugs it into the cigarette socket.
“Thank you, Bradley.” Kurt stares at me. “I’ll get a doctor to see you as soon as I can. If it’s a tracker, he’ll remove it. But for now, the jammer will do its job.” He tightens his hand painfully in my hair, pulling some strands out by the roots. “And if turns out you’ve been tagged, you’ll have some questions to answer, girl.”
As I suppress a tell-tale shiver, Bradley announces, “Dust storm ahead, sir.”
The driver’s words turn my thoughts to the weather and distract Kurt too. He releases my head and I remove my face from his groin. Sitting up, looking ahead through the windshield, I see it’s true, the precursor to an Arizona summer monsoon. I might not have been in the state long, but long enough to know the ferocity of the sudden storms. Is it possible we’ll be forced to stop? Could I have a chance of escape? Tugging unobtrusively, I try to loosen the handcuff, but it’s futile, there’s no way I’ll be able to jump out of the car, even if it comes to a halt. Unless I can knock Kurt out, steal the handcuff key and overpower the driver. While I might be desperate enough to give it a try, there’s not much chance of success.
Don’t fight them, Devil had told me, or you’ll get hurt. But what sway do his instructions hold if he’s forsaken me? Left me to my fate? Is getting hurt while trying to escape worth the risk?
“Sir?” Once again the driver speaks, getting Kurt’s attention. “There’s a group of bikers coming up fast behind us.”
“Shit!” Kurt pulls himself up to look out of the rear window. “Step on it, Bradley, I don’t know who the fuck they are, but I don’t like it. Lose them.” Following his instruction, the engine roars as the car picks up speed.
I turn too, they’re only just in sight but drawing closer. A wave of elation rushes through me. I’m going to be saved. The bikers will be armed. They can surround the car and stop it. I knew they wouldn’t let me down. My heart starts beating faster at the thought I could soon be free, when the car shoots forward again. Looking around the driver’s seat, I see the needle on the speedometer already touching the 100-mph mark and still climbing.
Then the rain starts. Soon it’s as if we’re driving into a solid wall of water. Bradley slows his speed, the car fishtailing across the highway, but he regains control fast. Now I can’t even see the bikes through the rain lashing down. Knowing four wheels are better than two in this downpour, my brief expectation that rescue might be at hand starts to fade.
“Flood coming up.”
“Go through it,” Kurt replies tersely.
With a quick nod, the car lurches forward. Suddenly we’re driving through the torrent, crossing the road, with water cascading over the roof. Bradley fights the wheel as the tyres lose traction. Oh God, please let us crash or break down… But the water’s not quite deep enough to stop us, and with Bradley’s expert handling, we’re across and out the other side.
I stare out the back window, but the bikes are no longer in sight. Even if they’ve got the radio with them, I must be more than half a mile away now, and there’s no way they can hear me, and the GPS signal is being blocked.
Drummer had tried to save me and failed, through no fault of his own. Despite my plea, God’s not on my side, and even the weather is against me. I really am on my own.
“Bikes haven’t been able to cross.” Bradley checks the rearview mirror and starts laughing. Kurt joins in. Their triumphant jeering doing nothing to help the churning in my stomach. Unless I can do something to get out of this myself, or a miracle happens, Drummer won’t be able to locate me. I pray the torrential rain will hold us up and force us to stop, allowing the bikes to catch up again, but Kurt must have the devil on his side, as well as a good driver, as we proceed at a steady pace heading north. I’m noting the directions, but what good will it do me? Even if I could offer my location, I’m too far away for anyone to pick it up.
Kurt’s arm comes around my shoulders, pulling me toward him. “Can’t wait to start having some fun with you.” As he murmurs the words into my ear, his hand slips south, under the barely-there dress that I’m wearing. He toys with my nipple. My body betrays me as it peaks under his touch, an automatic reaction, but one he appreciates. “You’re so responsive,” he continues, before pinching it hard, making me yelp. “Oh, yes, pretty baby, I’m surely going to enjoy possessing you, knowing I’ll be your first, that my cock will be the first, and last to be inside you.”
He grabs my hand, putting it on his crotch again, moving it up and down as if proud of his size, showing me just how much he’s looking forward to defiling me. I try to pull away; his fingers tighten sharply round my wrist, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the damage, he lifts up my arm, sucking the red drops into his mouth, his tongue sweeping out to lick his lips in appreciation. “Is this what your virgin blood is going to be like when I take you? Hmm, I can’t fucking wait, my dear.”
But I’m no longer a virgin. What’s he going to do when he finds that out? A whimper escapes my lips.
“Not much of a conversationalist, are
you, darling? Not that I mind. No, I’ve got other uses for that mouth.”
Just the thought makes me gag. “What are you going to do with me?” I ask, not actually wanting to know, but I’d rather keep him talking and his mind off anything else.
He laughs, it’s an evil sound. “Anything I fucking want. And you’re going to take anything I want to give. Your life from here on in is to serve me. Any way I want to be served. In fact,” he pulls away and turns my head toward him, running his fingers over my lips, “I’m tempted to start right now with that pretty mouth.”
No, don’t! Inside I’m screaming.
“What do you think, Bradley? Shall I try her out?”
I can see the driver in the rearview mirror, and the sneer on his face does nothing to reassure me. To try to distract him from whatever he’s got in mind, I quickly ask another question. “Why me? Why did you pick me?” If my voice sounds slightly hysterical, there’s nothing I can do about it.
Again, his clammy fingers reach out and touch my face. Turning me toward him, he gazes at me, soaking in my features before he deigns to speak. “Because you’re quite beautiful, pet. Just my type. Exactly as Jackson knew you would be when he first laid eyes on you. When he found out you were a virgin… Well, that was just the icing on the fucking cake.”
“How the hell did he learn that?”
“Your colleagues were quite forthcoming. Jackson acted as though he was interested in asking you out, of course, and they laughed and told him he wouldn’t have a chance. That it was unlikely any man would ever get close to you, as you didn’t seem to know what your pussy was made for. But don’t worry, I’m going to enjoy teaching you all about that. And I at least, will delight in your lessons.”
While not doubting the mechanics I worked with would have put it in quite such crude terms, I have to agree, I’d had a reputation for not being interested in the opposite sex. Before Drum, I hadn’t thought anything could be better than bringing an old engine to life.
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