by Tawny Taylor
Brent’s eyes went wide. “What kind of fucking mother sells her daughter into slavery?”
“A fucked-up one, that’s what kind.”
“Yeah,” Brent nodded. “So, this Lei is hot?”
An image of Lei flashed through his mind, and he felt his lips tipping up into a semi-smile. In his imagination, he saw her gorgeous, expressive almond-shaped eyes. Her smooth porcelain skin. Her lush lips. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But she’s got problems.”
“Who wouldn’t, if their mother sold them to slave traffickers?”
“Yeah.”
Brent shrugged. “So, you give her time, take it easy, right?”
“Right.” If only he could give her time. If only. This is it. Time to tell him about getting married. “Except there’s a problem. Our family has some . . . unusual traditions. And I need to get married. Soon. That’s what I really needed to talk to you about tonight.”
Brent’s face paled. “You? Married? How soon?”
“By January first.”
“January first? That’s fucked up.” Several emotions seemed to play over Brent’s face, including shock, disbelief, and maybe pain. He stared down at the floor for several long, excruciating seconds. “What happens if you don’t want to get married?”
“My wife will be picked for me.”
“Fuck. Who does that anymore? I mean, nobody arranges marriages anymore.”
“Some do.”
Brent scrubbed his face with his palms. Malek could tell he was struggling to hide his feelings, but he was failing. And Malek’s heart ached, seeing Brent like this. “Married,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Do you want to get married?”
“It depends.” Malek reached for him and set his hand on Brent’s. “It doesn’t have to change what we have.”
Brent didn’t respond right away. He stared at the floor. And Malek stared at him, studying every inch of his face. Damn. He’d known this would be hard. That was why he’d put this conversation off for as long as he had. But he didn’t think it would be this bad. For one, he’d assumed—stupidly—that Brent wouldn’t care whether he was married or not. So many of their friends lived in open marriages, it was almost expected. Finally, Brent said, “How long have you known?”
“I’ve known I’d be expected to marry eventually for a while, since before Drako’s wedding. But I just found out about my deadline a few days ago.”
“Before I came over last?”
Malek nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Shit.”
He hated to see his friend, his partner, his confidant and lover suffering like this. He longed to embrace him, kiss him, tell him nothing would change. But the truth was, he didn’t know now if that was possible, as much as he wanted it.
He loved Brent. His heart ached when Brent hurt. His heart leaped when Brent was happy. He couldn’t imagine life without Brent.
“Let’s get back to Lei,” Brent said, avoiding the topic of their relationship for now. Malek had a feeling it was too painful for him to discuss at the moment. But sooner or later they would have to talk about their future. After this, Malek wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. Absolutely, Malek wanted to continue being lovers. But in the long run, what Malek wanted didn’t matter. Malek had to focus on Brent’s happiness, not his own.
As a dom, that was his obligation.
As a lover, that was his commitment.
Malek said, “I have feelings for Lei. Complicated, confusing feelings for her. And when I try to imagine myself married to another woman, I get this empty, hollow sensation inside.”
“So, marry her.”
“She’s not ready for marriage yet. She’s not even close to ready.”
“Can’t you put it off for a while?”
“No.”
Brent surged to his feet. “Dammit, this is fucked up.” After shooting Malek a glare, he began pacing back and forth. “I don’t get it. What difference would a few months, or a year make?”
Of course Brent didn’t get it. Not many people, outside of his own brothers, would. “There are reasons for my family’s traditions.”
Brent stopped pacing and locked an angry stare on Malek. “Yeah? Like what?”
“I can’t get into it.”
Instantly, Brent closed up. Malek watched him emotionally shut down. His eyes became cold; his expression blank. Brent was a generous, giving lover, and his best friend. But whenever something came up that Malek couldn’t discuss with him, Brent became extremely hurt. More than once, the issue had almost cost them their relationship. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, then. You’ve got to marry someone. You pick or your wife is picked for you.” Brent checked his watch, then smoothed his palms down his legs. “I gotta go. I’m meeting someone in a half hour.”
“Brent, I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you everything.”
“I wish you could trust me.”
Brent left.
8
Lei was so nervous her hands were shaking. She’d snuck out of the house—like a teenager who’d been grounded. But Malek had given her no choice. And here she’d thought it would be better for him to embrace the whole bodyguard thing than to go Dirty Harry vigilante on the bad guy.
Everything will be okay.
Yes, she’d taken a chance by leaving the house tonight. But there was a good reason for it. After spending hours upon hours on the Internet, trying to track down those two girls, all she’d found was a Facebook page for one of them, Kate. Naturally, she tried sending a private message. And another. No response. But she had learned something useful. They shared an acquaintance in common. And that acquaintance was having a party tonight.
The plan was simple. Go in. Find Kate. Tell her to change her name and leave town. And then go home.
Easy peasy.
After slamming her car door, Lei smoothed her sweaty palms down her skirt and click-clacked up the front walk of the upper-middle-class suburban brick colonial. She rang the bell, and listened to the echo of laughter and music inside.
Outside of the whole sneaking out thing, this was what she needed. Interaction. With people. More than just Malek. For more than one reason. Outside of trying to hunt down Kate, being cooped up with Malek was messing with her mind. He was becoming the center of her world. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Finding ways to be around him. It was getting bad.
The door swung open and the acquaintance, Gwen, holding a glass of champagne beamed a greeting. “Lei! So glad you could make it. Come in.” Gwen stepped to the side, closing the door behind Lei. In the foyer, she motioned to the small room to the left. “You can throw your coat in there. Then come on back.” Gwen handed her the glass of champagne. “Here, this’ll get you started.”
“Thanks. Is Kate O’Shea here?” Lei took a little sip of the sparkling wine—delicious.
“Kate O’Shea? I haven’t seen her yet. But I did invite her. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
“Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate, not knowing how much about Kate’s background Gwen had been told.
“Okay. Well, I’d better get back in there.” Gwen flounced off and Lei clacked across the stone foyer to the small but cozy office turned coatroom. After setting down the glass, she shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of a leather chair in the corner. Then she followed the sound of voices toward the heart of the house.
The open kitchen/great room area was packed with chatting, drinking, laughing guests. After doing a visual sweep of the room, searching for familiar faces—both good and bad—Lei spotted Gwen standing at the far end of the great room, next to the fireplace. She was talking to a man who looked a little familiar—good looking, tall, with dark, shaggy hair.
As she walked toward them, she remembered where she’d seen him. He was the one who’d been at Malek’s—her—house the other night. In the dungeon with Talen. Feeling a little uneasy, especially when a couple of men standing close by
gave her an appraising up-and-down look, she took a slight detour, heading into the kitchen to avoid passing directly in front of them.
Just as she was helping herself to a fresh glass of champagne from the tray sitting on the kitchen island, Gwen came bouncing up to her. The man she’d been speaking with was behind her. “Lei, this is Brent. Brent, this is my friend Lei. You two know at least one person in common.” Off she flounced, before Lei and Brent had even exchanged hellos.
Lei gave him a friendly smile as she offered her right hand. “Brent, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, too. Malek has told me a lot about you.” His handshake was firm and strong and brief, thank goodness. His voice was masculine, a deep baritone. His face was traffic-stopping gorgeous. And his expression was not the least bit creepy.
“Malek has talked about me?”
“Sure. Malek and I are good friends. Close friends.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Is he here with you?”
“No, I came alone.”
“Oh, really?” At her nod, he asked, “So, how do you know Gwen?”
“School. You?”
“I met her through a mutual friend. She’s—”
“Lei!” the object of the conversation cut in, grabbed Lei’s hand, and started tugging on her arm. “Sorry,” she apologized to Brent. “There’s someone who wants to meet her. Lei, this way.”
“Okay, sure.” Lei glanced over her shoulder. Brent had already found someone else to talk to.
“I met these guys last weekend,” Gwen jabbered. “They are both super hot and have great jobs. They’d like to go on a double date.” She whispered, “The tall one’s mine,” before halting directly in front of the two men Lei had noticed earlier.
Once again, they gave her that look, the kind her Johns used to give her. Creepy. A little shiver of unease quaked up her spine. Then she felt even more uncomfortable when she realized one of them looked familiar, too. And this one wasn’t a friend of Malek’s.
“Pete, Rob, this is my friend Lei.”
“Nice to meet you, Lei,” the shorter of the two, Rob, said. He wasn’t the one she thought she recognized. It was the other one. Pete. Judging by the way they were both staring at her, she was pretty certain she had been right about Pete; he had been one of her Johns. And he’d told Rob about her former career—that term used loosely.
Gwen chattered, “Rob here was telling me about an artist friend of theirs who was having an event at—”
“Excuse me,” a woman interrupted, stepping up to Gwen. “We’re out of champagne. Gwen, did you have some more somewhere?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll get it.” Gwen gave Lei a raised index finger. “Be back in a minute.” Off she trotted, leaving Lei with two men who gave her a serious case of the icks.
Lei decided a hasty retreat was in order. “Excuse me, but I see a friend—”
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Pete asked, a semi-sneer pulling at his mouth.
“Oh, I doubt it.” She took a couple of steps away. But one of them grabbed her arm, snapping her back around. She shot the offender, Pete, a warning glare. “What the hell? Let me go.”
“I do know you,” Pete said, a cruel smile taking the place of the sneer. His grip tightened. “How about we go upstairs and get more comfortable? Or maybe we should hit a hotel, where we can have some privacy?”
Lei jerked her arm. Her heart rate kicked into high gear and her face started burning. The air was getting thick. She couldn’t breathe. “Let go. Now. Before I—”
“What? Scream? Call the police?” Pete leaned closer, too close. “You’re a hooker. Do you want everyone here knowing that?” With his free hand, Pete reached for her breast.
She slapped his hand away before it reached its target. “I am not a hooker.”
“I saw you. At a party. You were one of the girls there. Fucked my friend. He said you were good with your mouth.” Pete dragged his thumb over her lower lip.
About to gag, she jerked back and smacked his hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong. That wasn’t me.”
“So . . . what? You’ve retired? What’s one more time?” Pete said coolly as he started walking through the kitchen, hauling her along. “Come on, Rob. You in? She can handle us both.”
“Sure.” Rob stepped up on her other side, looped his arm around her waist, and gave her a nudge.
“I said no,” she shouted, her gaze jumping from one cluster of party attendees to another. Nobody was looking at her. Nobody was noticing she was being half-dragged out of the room. Not one person.
Where was Gwen?
In the kitchen? No. The living area? No. No Gwen. No Brent.
She was on her own. Standing in a crowd, but alone. Defenseless.
Rob and Pete hauled her forward another several feet.
Going into full panic, she started fighting back, trying to break free from her would-be rapists before they got her outside. But Pete had a strong grip on her arm, and Rob grabbed her other arm as they dragged her toward the foyer.
“Dammit, somebody help me! You bastards!” she shouted, desperate now. If they raped her. Oh, God, if they got that far, she didn’t think she could make it through that.
“Shut the hell up,” Pete growled. “It isn’t like we’re doing something you don’t do every day. You’ll like it. I promise.”
“Gwen!” she shrieked as they shoved her toward the front door. If they got her outside, it was over.
Pete opened the door. “Shut up, bitch. Sheesh. Quit making such a fucking scene.”
“Excuse me,” someone said behind her. That someone was a male.
Tears started blurring Lei’s eyes. She was relieved. Petrified. Desperate. Embarrassed. All she wanted to do was get the hell out of this place. Go home. With Malek. Where she was safe.
Dammit, all she’d wanted to do was find Kate and warn her that she might be in danger. She’d never in a million years thought she’d run into one of the agency’s Johns at this party.
How many more times would this happen? When? Where? Would the nightmare ever be over?
Pete snarled. “Fuck off, she’s ours.”
“What the hell are you talking about, yours?” the man behind her said.
“This cunt is a whore. Here to do a job. Don’t worry. We’ll pay her.” With his free hand, Pete grabbed a wad of bills from his wallet, waved them in front of her savior’s face, whom she still hadn’t seen because he was standing directly behind her, and shoved them down the front of her dress. The unmistakable rip of the fabric echoed through the foyer.
“I’m not a whore,” Lei said, teeth gritted. Humiliated, furious, and just plain freaked out, she threw her hands over her chest, closing her fists around the shredded material.
“Yes, you are,” Pete said, as he cupped her mound.
Bile surged up her throat and she gagged. She twisted, trying to break free. She kicked. She tried to shove him away. But between Pete and Rob, her arms were absolutely no use.
“Let her go,” the man behind her said in a low but even tone. That tone, and the energy she felt buzzing through the air, reminded her of a dog that was about to attack.
“Fuck off.” Pete pinched Lei’s nipple and she screeched in pain and smacked her hands over her breasts. “Go find your own whore. I paid her. She’s mine. I can do anything I want.”
“I don’t want your fucking money,” Lei growled. “Just let me go.”
Pete’s hand skimmed down her body. “Isn’t that sweet? She’s willing to give me a freebie.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Her lungs were burning for air. Her knees were soft, rubbery. “I’m not willing to give you anything.”
“Last chance, asshole,” the man behind her said. “Let the lady go.”
“Lady. That’s a good one.” Pete laughed. The hollow sound echoed across the foyer. “Let’s go, Rob.” He opened the door.
“No!” Lei shrieked as she dug in her heels.<
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One second, she was about to be hauled through the door, and the next, all hell broke loose and she was caught in the middle of a melee. She was jostled, then shoved off her feet. She landed on the hard tile floor, ankle throbbing, eyes blurred with unshed tears. Clutching the torn front of her dress, she scooted back against the wall and watched the three men throw punches at each other, waiting for a chance to make her getaway.
“What the hell?” Gwen shouted.
“They tried to rape me.” Lei’s hand trembled as she pointed.
“What?” Gwen scurried to the three men, tried to break up the fight, was thrown aside, then raced back to the party. A few moments later, she returned with several other men. They had better luck getting the brawl broken up.
“What the hell is going on?” Hands on hips, Gwen looked from one man to the other.
Lei climbed to her feet, hands gripping the torn pieces of her dress. “I need to go home. Now.”
Gwen ran to her side, gaze zooming up and down. “Ohmygosh. Your dress. What happened?”
Pete dabbed at his bloody mouth with one hand and pointed at Lei with the other. “It was the whore’s fault.”
Everyone looked at Lei.
“I told you, Gwen.” She closed her eyes and wished for the floor to swallow her up and make her disappear. “They tried to rape me.”
Rob piped in, pointing at Brent. “We weren’t going to rape anyone. The cunt’s a whore. She took my money, but that asshole thought he’d play hero.”
Lei saw red. She grabbed the bills that had been smashed into her bra and threw them on the floor. “The hell I did. I didn’t ‘take’ anything. You rammed that money down my bra. And you ripped my dress doing it.” Humiliated beyond words, she charged for the door, staggered outside, and teetered on wobbly legs toward her car. She buckled herself in and was cranking the key when someone knocked on her window.
Fearing the worst, she ducked, glancing up through the glass.
It was Brent.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
She did owe him a thanks for what he’d done. After making sure Pete and Rob were nowhere in sight, she hit the button, powering down the window.