Protecting it All: Dark Romantic Suspense (Punishment Pit Book 6)

by Livia Grant

  The feel of the door at her back opening jarred her forward. She turned as Mohammed's large frame darkened the room. Pulling Mia along with her, Hannah rushed the man, catching him off-guard with a hard kick to his groin, doubling him over in pain. She moved out into the hall back in the direction she had come from, only to be stopped at the security door.

  What a fool she was. She stood still, looking at the retina and thumbprint scanners, knowing she would never get through the door. The building was a labyrinth she'd never be able to navigate. She heard Dylan in her ear. "Turn around and run the other way!"

  She tried to stay as far away from the entrance to Jake's office as possible, but the foyer wasn't big enough. He was on her before she could move past his door. He rushed forward, tackling the women against the far wall hard, pressing his angry body into them, containing them easily.

  "You're gonna pay for that, you little bitch. You just don't know how deep of a hole you're digging yourself here."

  She felt rather than saw Mohammed coming near. As soon as Jake released her, Hannah moved to bolt, but Mohammed stopped her with his own backhand across her face, snapping her neck with a crack. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to cry out.

  He leaned close, his black eyes piercing her like daggers. "I'm gonna enjoy hurting you when Mr. Davenport is done with you." With a final glare, he turned his attention to a dazed Mia, picking her up and lugging her over his shoulder just as he had her sister before. She was limp, and Hannah suspected she might be in shock.

  Hannah didn't have time to worry about Mia. Jake was too busy dragging her unmoving feet back in the direction of the office. As hard as she tried to dig her heels in to prevent their forward movement, Jake was stronger, yanking her along, slamming the door behind them.

  In her ear, she heard Dylan speaking softly. "Hannah, hold on, baby. We have him. He's keeping you against your will. We have him threatening Mia and Lucy on tape. Lukus is on with the police. Just stall him as long as you can, honey."

  It was hard to camouflage her relief at Dylan's words. The small tether of communication to the outside world was the only saving grace keeping her from truly losing it. She forced herself to take a cleansing breath, determined to be brave until the cavalry arrived as Jake shoved her hard into a chair near where Mia had been kneeling, before calmly taking his seat behind the desk as if he were about to conduct an interview.

  Her skin crawled as the psycho steepled his long fingers together, staring at her with his harsh eyes as if he were deciding the best way to torture her. Little did he know she was happy with any delay, as it gave Dylan more time to rescue her.

  A full minute passed in uncomfortable silence, Hannah becoming more confused by the second.

  "You think you're going to get out of here without bending to me, don't you?" he taunted her.

  She stalled. "I don't know what to think. I'm sure there are a lot of women who would love to work here. I don't understand why you even want me here."

  "Let's just say I feel like I owe it to your good ole dad to take good care of his kids."

  What the fuck does my dad have to do with Jake Davenport?

  Bile rose up in her throat. She had to swallow fast to avoid throwing up. Nothing had prepared her for him mentioning her father. She refused to meet his gaze, wringing her hands in her lap, trying not to let him see how badly she was shaking.

  It didn't work.

  "I see that got your attention." When she didn't answer, he continued. "How is Connor doing?"

  Oh my God. What game is he playing?

  "Connor who?" Her voice shook with emotion.

  His laughter almost sounded joyful. "Come now. Don't dig yourself deeper in lies. You've been dealt a shitty hand in life, Hannah. I think it's time you let someone take care of you and Connor. That's all I'm trying to do. You believe that, don't you?"

  She almost asked how the hell he knew her father, but then realized she didn't want to know. There was only one kind of person who might be acquainted with her father, and that was the most evil of evil. The only comfort she got was knowing the vile man who had raised her was behind bars for the rest of his life, where he wouldn't be able to hurt her or Connor ever again.

  She steeled herself to look up at her captor. Hatred bled into her words. "You leave Connor alone. If you so much as come within a mile of him, I'll kill you myself, you bastard."

  "Such strong words. You almost make me believe you. You're doing an admirable thing, taking care of your brother." His eyes danced with mirth at his ability to cut her to the core with a truth she'd worked hard to bury. "Or do you prefer to think of him as your nephew? Too bad about your sister, Holly. Last time I saw her, I just knew she wasn't doing well."

  Alarm bells were going off like firecrackers in her brain. She choked out her words. "You saw Holly? When?" Unwanted tears flowed down her cheeks. She'd mentally prepared herself for the sights she'd see inside this hellhole of warehouse, but she hadn't been prepared to deal with digging up her hellish childhood in Ohio—a past she'd moved across the country to run away from.

  "Oh, I don't know. A few months before her untimely death, I guess. Your father was nice enough to share her hospitality with his guests upon occasion, although I had rather hoped he would share you instead," Jake said.

  She was on her feet, rushing him, blindly wanting to rip his eyes out for daring to touch her tormented sister. She vaulted over the desk, reaching for this throat to strangle him, but he easily subdued her, shoving her back into her chair and returning to his own as if he had just swatted a fly.

  Fury consumed Hannah as memories from her past closed in. Nightmares of men exactly like Jake Davenport had finally pushed Holly to take her own life, leaving Hannah to care for the only bright spot in their lives, Connor.

  Guilt rushed Hannah, making it hard to breathe as she remembered how Holly had protected her younger sister from their father as much as she could. He had reserved his most vile perversions for his oldest daughter. Holly's final strength had been spent helping put the monster behind bars and making sure Hannah and her son, Connor, would be safe.

  Once Holly had accomplished her mission, she had no will left to fight for her own survival. Connor had never known his real mother. Hannah was all he had left, and she needed to survive the hell she was in for him.

  Hannah forced herself to let go of the nightmare memories to focus on the here and now. "I'll repeat. What the hell do you want with me?" she said.

  Jake droned on, seemingly uncaring about the bomb he'd set off inside her. "I want a lot of things from you, but for starters, I want you to be my accountant. I also want you to escort me to an important party tonight."

  She must have heard him wrong. "A party? Now?"

  "It's a special kind of party. I think you'll learn a great deal about my most lucrative business by attending."

  He was being vague, probably hoping she would ask more questions. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He continued anyway. "Your father used to hold the same kinds of parties in Ohio, with a little younger crowd. I attended a few. He was very... accommodating."

  Fury flared in her. "I knew you were a lot of things, Jake, but I didn't know you were a pedophile in addition to being a rapist."

  "There you go with that rape allegation again. That's not how I remember it at all. Maybe this will help jog your memory." He took out a remote control from the top drawer of his desk and pointed it at the large, flat-screen TV on the wall. The movie that came to life was a horror flick.

  The picture was dark, but Hannah recognized the office at his house. The sound of his hand connecting with her bare ass filled the room. It was surreal to be watching him spank her. Had that really only been three nights before?

  She'd been drugged that night, but as the scene played out, she was sure he had edited out the parts where he'd hurt her the most. What remained played as if she had begged him to fuck her.

  His words from the TV filled the room. "That's it, baby.
Let me take care of you. Your body wants this."

  Damn him. She remembered how her body had wanted to be fucked, but it had been the drugs!

  "Jake..." She had called his name.

  "That's 'Sir.'" He had corrected her.

  She watched herself wriggling with pent-up lust. On the screen, Jake swatted her ass hard, reminding her he was still in control.

  "Sir... please... I need..."

  "That's right, Hannah. Tell me what you need. Use your words."

  She had been so angry with him in that moment, but it didn't compare to her pure hatred today. She remembered what was coming next.

  "I need you... inside me... now."

  Her stomach churned at having to watch her humiliation again. "Turn it off! Enough!"

  Surprisingly, he listened, returning them to the awkward silence. "So you see, I think anyone watching that hot little scene will have a hard time believing that what followed was rape."

  "You drugged me, you bastard!"

  "Tsk, tsk. More pointless allegations you can't prove. This is getting tedious. You work for me now, Hannah. Get your head wrapped around that. You will be my accountant and you'll do a fine job, or I'll make sure the people you care about, like Mia and Lucy, pay the price for failure. I'd like to keep Connor out of this, wouldn't you?"

  His threat was clear. She was trapped for now. "Yes, sir," she bit out.

  "Very good." He glanced at his designer watch. "It's getting late. Our guests are already arriving and I still have a few items to take care of. Let's go."

  He rose to leave, stopping to pull her to her feet. She wanted to fight him, but remembered she'd never get out through the locked doors anyway. She clung to the knowledge that Dylan was coming for her. She just had to hang on long enough to survive until he got there.

  Trying to keep Jake talking in hopes of securing more damning evidence against him, she probed. "So exactly what kind of businesses do you run here, anyway? I think I'll need to know that if I'm going to be your accountant."

  They were in the foyer, about to pass through a heavy door protected by several layers of security. "I thought you'd never ask." Jake grinned as he pushed open the door to reveal a large open office space with dozens of small cubicles that would be more appropriate in a fortune 500 company. The partition walls were low enough that she could see over a dozen women, and several men, working at the desks.

  That was where the comparison to corporate America ended.

  Each naked employee had on headphones and a microphone, and Hannah picked up snippets of X-rated phone sex in progress as she slowly walked past with her captor.

  Unwelcome tears came to her eyes as memories of her time at Jake's house invaded her thoughts. She'd worked hard to force down the trauma of being raped just days before, but the sight of the naked men and women, each sitting on a stool looking suspiciously like the one she'd been forced to sit on at the desk in Jake's office, made it impossible to ignore. Over a dozen sets of tortured breasts were lashed to the desks in front of them, holding the impaled bodies in place, just as she had been.

  "Welcome to Strictly Disciplined, Hannah. This is just one of my many lucrative businesses. You already passed through the sets we use for our live online sex websites. This is our call center. But I can't wait to show you our most exclusive wing of the company. Come along."

  Through her blurred vision, she looked over her shoulder as she was pulled away to see one of the women begin to hump up and down on the fake cock shoved up her pussy, protruding from the stool. The fact that she was obviously enjoying something Hannah would forever remember as one of the worst experiences of her life was like a slap in the face.

  How the fuck could these women choose to work here? I'm in so much trouble. I pray Dylan gets here with the police soon.

  Chapter Ten

  Dylan

  "God damnit!" Dylan was furious that they'd put an innocent woman like Hannah in danger. The men were crammed into the back of a windowless utility truck they'd rented for their stakeout. Dylan backed away from the video screen to rush Lukus Mitchell, not giving a fuck that he was his boss. "You asshole. She's is so much trouble!"

  Lukus's green eyes were serious, meeting him with a cold stare that was all business. Despite being tackled against the back panel of the truck, he maintained the connection of the cell phone to his ear.

  "Settle down or you'll be relieved from duty." Lukus's voice was eerily calm.

  "Fine by me. I've had enough of sitting out here with my thumb up my ass while Hannah and her friends are in danger. If you aren't going in with me, I'll go in alone."

  Dylan's brother's arms closed around him from behind, pulling him off Mitchell. "Knock it off. You know we're working our connections to get the right law enforcement groups on the ground. They have to get search warrants and that takes time. We're going as fast as we can."

  Dylan pushed free to round on his brother. "Well, it's not fast enough. He's going to hurt her!"

  He saw regret in his brother's eyes and knew it wasn't fair to keep blaming the men in the truck for the vile shit Davenport was doing, but he didn't know who else to blame at that point. If he were truthful, he was maddest at himself; for not packing Hannah and Connor up in his rental car and driving away earlier that afternoon, when they'd had the chance.

  Connor. Fuck, what a messed up family poor Hannah had come from. Hearing the story through their surveillance feed had been like torture. Cameron had filled in additional details he could glean from the press coverage of the story.

  Dylan wanted to hold Hannah in his arms and tell her how proud he was of her for being so strong, for taking care of the innocent baby through all of the bullshit her family had put her through.

  His blood simmered with anger as he thought about all they'd learned in the last hour. How Hannah's father had been the ringleader of one of the biggest American underground sex trafficking societies ever ferreted out by international law enforcement. Not only had the bastard pimped out his young daughters as favors to his scum friends, but he'd proudly fathered a son with his oldest daughter.

  Connor had been the asshole's downfall for many reasons. The need to protect the innocent child had been the final straw, which had given Holly and Hannah the courage to report the incestuous abuse. The blood flowing through the kid had also provided the DNA evidence the police needed to help nail his father's ass to the wall.

  The only consolation Dylan had from the sad story was that the FBI had put hundreds of sexual offenders behind bars when they'd brought the bastard down. The lowlife had kept meticulous records of his clients who'd bought the underground photos, videos, and even flesh—records that led right back to their doorstep.

  I hope that asshole is raped daily for the rest of his miserable life in prison.

  Z was eloquent as ever. "Will you all shut the fuck up so I can hear what the hell is going on? I thought we were still building evidence, not starting our own version of Fight Club."

  Dylan reluctantly returned to the bank of surveillance screens capturing the entrances to the building. There were many screens that depicted the exterior of the building, but today he had all of his attention on the center console; the feed from Hannah's earring inside the warehouse. He heard Lukus behind him, fighting with the local district attorney Markus had gotten him connected to about the evidence, or rather the legality of the evidence, they'd collected.

  On the monitor, he watched as Hannah scanned the dozens of cubicles filled with naked workers who were tied to their desks, several bouncing up and down on the rubber cock shoved up their pussy or ass as they talked dirty to paying customers on the other end of the line.

  Fresh waves of anger flowed through him as he recalled the video of Hannah's rape they'd just had the horror of watching. He could barely contain his fury at himself knowing that he had been sitting in his rental car right outside Davenport's house as that nightmare had been playing out inside. At the time, Dylan had allowed the men to talk him out of burs
ting in to protect her, and now, unbelievably, he was being put into the same position again; sitting in the van, watching her getting deeper and deeper inside the torture chamber of the warehouse.

  "Hang on. Davenport's talking again." Derek and Z were conferring, and he had to shush them so he could hear what was being said inside.

  The men went silent, and then Dylan wished they hadn't as he heard Davenport saying, "I think I made it clear that all of my employees are naked at all times unless they're in fetish wear. I've been kind enough to let you keep your clothes on so far, but I'm afraid that has to change before we go to the party."

  Dylan could see Jake reaching for Hannah from the vantage point of the small camera she wore. He grabbed the mic to talk to her, but Derek pulled it out of reach. "There's nothing you can say to her right now that will help her. She needs to stay focused on following Davenport's directions. Reminding her that we're witnessing her humiliation will only make it worse."

  He hated that his brother was right. Dylan felt helpless as he watched her struggling in vain. He clapped his hands over his ears to block out the sound of her begging Jake to stop, and the sound of her clothes being ripped from her body.

  The feral look of hunger in Jake's eyes as he got off on Hannah's fear was upsetting Dylan's stomach. He had to turn away from the screen as she was dragged along behind her captor and they approached yet another locked door; this time a steel elevator.

  The men were taking notes on the security measures they would encounter when they rushed the building with the police. No one had said it out loud yet, but with each set of security barriers, they were all becoming more concerned. First that it would take too long to navigate through all of the complex locks to get to Hannah when the time came, and second, more importantly, what the fuck could Davenport be hiding that needed this much security?

  Jake pulled a key ring from his pocket, using a metal key to open the elevator door and then again to close the door once inside. Hannah did a good job of watching his actions, giving the men the view they needed to see him programming a six digit code into the elevator bank to get it moving lower, below ground.