Intertwined (Redemption #2)

by Sasha Brümmer

  “Then what the fuck are we waiting here for? Get the shit back on the plane. Let’s go!”

  I start pacing the length of the cabin once I’m back inside, as they start to reload everything into the hole of the jet.

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask as he types out some shit on his laptop.

  “I’m not, but I know this guy, and he’s gotten more women out of this situation than I’d like to count. He said that he’s pretty sure that it’s her from the picture I sent him.”

  “Pretty sure? What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means that she’s been through some shit, Liam.”

  “Jesus.” I take my seat again, glass crunching underneath my boots, and shove my face into the palm of my hands. “Let’s get going.”

  Keep fighting for me, baby doll. I’m coming.

  To understand me, you had to understand why I kept myself back. You had to figure out why I did the things that I did, and having Isla taken from me is exactly why I was living my life on the edge of a deep, dark, and dank pit of nothingness. Life has a fucked-up way of bringing back our insecurities, and this right now is the most fucked up life has gotten for me.

  I won’t allow this to be the end of us. I refuse to let this be my final void in this wicked game of life. I shake with the trepidation of not finding her in time.

  What am I living for anyway if I don’t find her?

  I’m deliberately giving up.

  He has brought every negative part of my past to the surface at this point, and I’m unsure if I’ll be able to take one more malicious dig from Grady Kent.

  Especially now when he has me naked and handcuffed against an oversized wooden crucifix that has held many slaves before me. There are multiple men around the room starting to bid on me. No, that’s wrong. They are bidding on my body and not on who I am. I glance down to my toes that are barely able to hold up my body to reach the shackles when Grady clears his throat.

  “Use the neck restraint,” he says to the handler who’s currently standing beside me. A moment later, my head is forced back against the rough wood and held in place as a rusted collar is brought around the column of my neck, securing me tightly before the bidding continues.

  The shackles that have me bared to these sick fucks are digging into my skin as I hear number after number called out. I force my eyes to close as the numbers grow and my faith in humanity dips with each additional digit.

  How can I cling to anything good when I’m about to be broken in like a little bitch? When I’m being pulled back into my past? This, however, is so much worse than a secure padded room.

  “Let us try her out,” a heavy voice calls out from the back of the room. It’s more like an auditorium, and no, these men are not in days’ old rags. They are dressed to the fucking nines in designer outfits tailored specifically for them.

  “Damaged goods don’t sell. If you’d like to get a closer look, be my guest, but I don’t do returns. You know the policy by now,” Grady spits out.

  My eyes fly open as I watch multiple men step forward to the slightly elevated stage.

  I shut my eyes and keep them closed as man after man runs his disgusting hands over my exposed skin. As much as I try, I can’t hold back my emotional reaction as the thought of never seeing Liam again runs through my mind. I’m about to disappear without a trace, and there won’t be a hope in hell for my survival.

  The microphone pops before Grady’s voice is heard over the speakers. “Seeing the number of bids I’ve just been offered for this plastic piece of shit, I’m going to change the way I handle things for this slave and this slave alone. I will take the top five bidders and allow each of them an hour alone with her on my property. She is, however, still worth the value of a full sale. Anything less will not be considered.”

  The last strand of hope that I was holding onto snaps as the last of his words leaves his mouth.

  Numbers are shouted throughout the men, and I keep my eyes closed as the final five bids are secured. Involuntarily my eyes flip open as my wrists and then neck are released from the shackles, and I’m carried off of the stage and to a room that I’ve never been in before. I’m set down on the bed, and the rope around my neck is removed and set aside before the two men who brought me in here leave.

  I stand up and glance around at the ornate furnishings and fixtures, surprised that such a beautiful room can be kept in such a malevolent place like this.

  Grady steps into the room and takes a seat at the far end. His eyes are trained on me, taunting me with his stare. I give it back to him. Although he may have sold me to five soulless thugs, I refuse to let him be the one to see me crumble.

  “I’m going to enjoy this, dolly.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Ah, but you’re already in it. Now don’t you worry your pretty little head: the fucker who enjoys his women unresponsive is last in line today.”

  There’s a single sharp knock on the door then, and my body freezes up on me, willing me to become one of those vacant souls.

  “Enter,” Grady calls out, and the door swings open and an oversized man steps over the threshold.

  My blood runs cold as one of his guards closes the door behind him while he undoes the burgundy tie around his neck.

  “And what do we have here? I was told that I’d be able to enjoy you. My men know what I like and you, dear, are exactly that.”

  I can see the iniquity in his eyes as his pants tent around his crotch. I remain in my place as he strides toward me.

  “What do you say we have some fun?” he asks but doesn’t get a response from me, so he prods again. “Do you not speak English?”

  “She does,” Grady answers and crosses one leg over the other.

  “Good. I like to hear their pleading screams while I take my time.”

  He reaches out to pinch one of my nipples that refuses to pebble at his touch before he undresses. I swear I have to repress a laugh at the size of him. He’s a pathetic excuse of a man.

  I’m shoved backward and onto the bed that has soaked up hundreds of screams before it will do the same for mine. I gasp in pain as strong arms flip me over and then hold my neck in a chokehold.

  “Kent, retrieve the gun from my slacks.”

  There’s a shuffling noise before I’m forced up onto my knees with my ass in the air and the cold metal of what is unmistakably his gun runs up my left inner thigh. He pushes my thighs apart as the gun runs up over my sex and up past my ass.

  I’m breathing heavily as he tightens his arm around my neck to cut off some of my airflow. “I’ve paid a lot of money for you, and if you don’t cooperate . . .” He shoves the nose of the gun against my puckered opening. “ . . . then I’ll make this hurt.”

  Before I have the words to reply, the cool metal is moved down and pushed into my sex. My vision begins to blur from the tears and pain that course through me.

  “Easy,” I hear Grady say before this man starts to pull the gun out of me and then shove it back in as if the odd shape belongs buried deep inside of me.

  The cold metal is harsh and unforgiving, and I don’t want to feel any of this.

  His arm loosens around my neck, and for the first time since entering this world, I force myself to slip away, to let an unconsciousness willingly take me away from here in order to spare myself what I’m about to experience.

  Now, I completely understand the vacant stares of the women in the shower room. I don’t want to remember this. I won’t. He can dwell on the surface fear that his false perceptions let him see, but I’ll save myself by not letting them see me break.

  With my mind made up, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift away from these men, this room, this life as who I am is stolen from me.

  Muscular arms are locked around me when I surface from my internal prison, but my mind refuses to focus on what’s going on as I open my eyes. My body is being jostled from side to side as door after door passes by. I close my eyes again and will death to take
me. I know that I’ve given up, and I know that Liam will never forgive me, but I can’t do this.

  I don’t know how Chloe survived all of those years, but if there’s one thing that I do know, it’s that I’m not her. I do not have her strength, and I never will.

  “To your left,” a voice says, and a round of shots are fired. I blink my eyes open again in the dim hallway, as the body carrying me doesn’t stop moving.

  “Heads up, we’ve gotten control of the chopper, and it’ll be the fastest way to get her to the hospital right now,” a deep voice that I don’t recognize says. I understand what he’s saying, but none of it makes sense in my current predicament.

  “Hold the fucking door open.”

  That voice.

  Oh God. I know that voice. I force myself to focus, but it’s so hard to when I’ve only eaten a couple of bites every couple of days since I’ve been here, and my body seems to have given up on me now as well.

  There’s more shuffling as I try to focus my double vision. I lift my head and close my eyes before forcing them open again, hoping for more clarity than what I’ve been given.

  “Liam?”

  His eyes dart down to mine and relief fills his stern face as he carries me out of the warmth of the building and into the winter night air.

  “Isla. God, baby doll, I’m here, but I need you to keep those eyes open for me, all right? Do we have a deal?”

  I don’t know if I’m imagining this or if he’s actually found me, but I manage to respond through chattering teeth. “Deal.”

  I turn my head into his chest as my body moves with his and close my eyes regardless of what I’ve just promised him, because I’m too exhausted to keep my body functioning, let alone think right now.

  I don’t know if this is real or not, but if these seconds are my last, then at least I’ve conjured up the feel of his body against mine. He smells like home, and I breathe in a lungful before forcing myself into that deep, dark, and quiet place that I was in before I imagined him up.

  Please.

  Please.

  Pl—

  The slow beep of her heart monitor is the only thing that has been able to keep me from going back and slaughtering every motherfucker whose heart is still beating in that compound.

  In the two weeks that he had her, he’s managed to bruise and starve her. Her hair is fucking white-blonde, and blondes don’t do it for me, but on her . . . fuck. She still manages to look radiant after everything that she’s been through. The biggest things that are bugging me right now as I inspect her is how her skin clings to the outlines of her bones, but I’m thankful that she’s alive.

  The entire fucking stint feels like a dream now as I remember watching from the rafters as man after man laid his dirty fucking hands on her during the bidding process.

  Grady must have done his homework on her to know what would make her fall off of the high wire that he had her strung up on. He knew exactly what he was doing with each step that he took in his attempt to torment her. I clench my fist at the thought of what else he put her through, or possibly made her relive.

  It took us longer than I would have liked to find the room that she was taken to after the auction, but when I did, nothing could have prepared me for the sight. She was on her hands and knees, head bowed in submission as some old geezer shoved the barrel of his revolver in and out of her.

  I recall Grady struggling against one of my men as I charged at the sick fuck who touched her in ways that no one besides myself should ever be allowed. He was too big to react in an acceptable manner, and I got ahold of the same gun that was inside of her and shoved it between his lips before firing a single shot that ended his pitiful existence.

  I blow out a heavy breath as the only female doctor in this small hospital walks in after doing a full-body exam on Isla when we first arrived. I insisted on it being a woman. I couldn’t stomach another man touching her again, regardless of his occupation.

  “Mr. Jensen?” she asks in heavily accented English.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for waiting as long as you have. It’s difficult being the only doctor on staff when we fill up. Now, as far as physical harm, there are only minor lacerations and bruises on her body.”

  She moves to Isla and points to her temple, neck, wrists, and ribcage before pulling the sheet back over her. “Outside of that, I have not found any other injuries or forced penetrations.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  She clears her throat and gives me a weak smile. “This is my profession, and I thrive on helping those who need it. She’ll be all right.”

  “And the baby?”

  She shakes her head and sets her clipboard at the foot of Isla’s hospital bed before answering me. “Currently our ultrasound equipment is not functioning so I cannot give you a definitive answer to your question. The fetal heartbeat is strong at 164 BPM but based on a manual exam, the fetus is small for its age. You said she is about twelve weeks pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  She nods before continuing. “This is a small private hospital that survives on what little government funds that we can get. You’ll need to transport her to somewhere better equipped to do a more extensive exam on her than we can here.”

  “Thank you,” I say as she leaves the room. I take my phone out of my pocket and dial Wade’s number.

  I don’t give two shits what time it is back in Chicago. This is important.

  “Jensen?” he answers on the third ring.

  “I’ve got her.”

  There’s a long moment of silence that we share before he speaks. “Thank fuck. Where are you?”

  “Just inside of the Greece border. I need to get her to a more secure hospital, though.”

  I can hear him typing between our lines of communication.

  “Did he have her? Did Grady Kent have her?”

  “Yes.”

  He clears his throat before he starts to speak again. “You better have ended his goddamn life.”

  “The team is taking care of it as we speak. I needed to get her somewhere, and you’ll be fooling your CEO ass if you thought that I’d leave her in the hands of someone I believe that I can trust again.”

  “Good. Get her home when you can. I’ll have RW take care of the women that the teams are pulling out.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you for putting your life on the line and finding her.”

  We don’t say anything for another moment because he already knows that I would take many more bullets than I have these last two weeks to get to her.

  “How’s the baby?”

  “We’re unsure, which is one of the reasons that I need to have her moved. They don’t have functioning equipment for ultrasound.”

  “Get moving, Liam. Get her as far away as what you deem her capable of traveling.”

  “Already am, and I’m thinking that the United Kingdom may be my best bet right now. I’ll call you again once I have her out of this fucking area.”

  “Thank you,” he says before I hang up and stuff my phone back into my pocket.

  By the time the doctor returns I have my jet on standby, waiting for us to arrive so that I can take her away from here.

  “Here are her discharge papers, as well as everything that I found while examining her. I’m hoping that it will help when she arrives at the next hospital. Please keep in mind that I’ve already given her some pain medication for the flight. As for yourself, Mr. Jensen, I’d prefer it if you allowed me to remove the bullet before you left.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

  I take the papers from her and intertwine my fingers with Isla’s as one of my team members starts to wheel her bed out of the room and down the hallway to the waiting van right outside of the exit.

  I haven’t so much as moved from her side since the plane ride to London, England. Isla is currently under the watchful eye of the talented doctors at the Greenwich Hospital.
She’s woken up a few times, but she hasn’t exactly been present enough to acknowledge the fact that she’s no longer in the throes of hell.

  A doctor walks in, and I stand in greeting as he offers his hand out to me. We shake briefly, which causes me to wince, before he moves to the other side of Isla’s bed.

  “It’s my understanding that the police in Chicago and Key West have been notified of her being found?” he asks before checking the readings on her monitors.

  “That’s correct. Is your ward ready for the remainder of the women who are currently being flown in?”

  “We are as prepared as we can be. We will, however, need them to share rooms if your count is correct.”

  “That won’t be a problem. Please make sure that all of them are somehow registered under Remission Worldwide. The last thing I need is one of them disappearing on me.”

  “Of course. They have started preparing the 197 bracelets for them already.”

  “Good. Now, please tell me something good about the condition that she’s in.”

  He smiles up at me and nods. “That I am able to do, Mr. Jensen. Are you the father?”

  My hands begin to tremble out of anxiety when he says that word. My stomach lurches and my head begins to ache at the sudden onslaught of dire information.

  “I am,” I get out as my voice cracks underneath the pressure of the situation.

  “Good. The baby is doing just fine. It may be slightly malnourished at this point in time, but we are providing it with all that it needs through her IV lines.”

  My over-caffeinated body seems to sag as the tension that I was carrying leaves my shoulders. The festering guilt that had infected each cell of my body seemingly disappears at the knowledge that they will both be okay for the time being.

  “Will there be any future complications?”

  He lets out an exhalation before adjusting Isla’s bed height. “That is something that we are unable to predict at such an early stage in pregnancy. The important thing, though, is that for now, you and Miss Madden will be parents toward the end of the year.”