by Day, Vella
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Rescuing Their Virgin Mate
Pack Wars-Book 3
by Vella Day
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief questions embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Kimberly Killian
Edited by Maureen Sevilla and Anne Marie Carroll
Final Pass by Victory Editing
Published in the United States of America
Copyright 2013
Chapter One
“Can anyone hear me?” Elena Sanchez’s voice cracked. She dropped her head against the rusty cage and her stomach lurched. “Help me. Please.” As she rattled the metal bars of her five-foot-by-five-foot cage, her sweaty palms slipped.
Her voice echoed off the cavernous walls of the warehouse, sounding as empty as the hope in her heart. Had it not been for two small windows at the top of the tall building, she’d have been in total darkness. The stench of mold found its way into her nostrils, making her sick and weak. She sneezed and then groaned, “Why me?”
She sank back, lifted the cross from her neck, and kissed the head of Jesus. “Please, God. Tell me what to do.” She would have cried, but the tears had dried up two weeks ago when those bastards kidnapped her.
Every day she yelled until her throat grew dry and her voice disappeared, but no one ever answered. Never had she been so alone. Hungry, sweaty, and filthy, despair was her constant companion, but she refused to give up hope. There had to be a way out.
Even after hours of self-reflection, nothing made sense. Why were they keeping her alive? What did they plan to do with her? She was glad they hadn’t killed her, but making her suffer by keeping her crammed in the cage defied logic.
Had the stranger who’d approached her after work been responsible for her capture? The pretty girl had seemed rather desperate herself. She’d come out of nowhere and stopped Elena less than a block from her office. She said if Elena was willing to quit her job that day, the woman would give her five thousand dollars. Her mind couldn’t even comprehend such an amount of money. On her secretary’s salary, it would have taken her forever to save that much.
She jumped at the offer. Working for Couch had been a nightmare. Twice he’d groped her in his office and even insisted she stay late several times without compensating her for her overtime. She’d already decided at the first of the year she’d look for another job. The woman’s offer appeared to be an early Christmas present.
Even at the time, it seemed too good to be true, but did she listen to her conscience? No. And, that was the problem. Greed was the root of all evil—a sin. Now, she understood why she should have turned down the stranger’s offer even if that kind of money would have helped her mother’s family in Costa Rica. Her grandmother was ill. Since her mother met her father after high school, her parents had lived in Gulfside. Last year, her parents had given up their jobs and moved to Costa Rica to take care of Abuela.
Elena gave up questioning why, because there never were answers.
Her thin pillow was crammed in the corner, and she lay back down, waiting for the sullen guard to come. He never said a word and didn’t seem to understand English. He fed her three times a day and let her use the bathroom.
Her captors had already confiscated her money and her suitcase on the day they’d taken her. They hadn’t violated her. Yet. She wasn’t naïve enough to think they wouldn’t.
Her stomach grumbled. She lowered her head to her pillow as sleep won over the hunger pangs. She was about to doze when the metal garage door leading to her prison squeaked opened. She bolted upright. No one had used that door before.
Sunlight streamed in. She squinted to stop the light from piercing her eyes, desperately trying to focus on what was outside. Cars passed by, but she didn’t recognize her location. She was tempted to scream, but the sight of two burly men with guns affixed to their shoulder holsters made her throat close up.
Heart pounding, she believed this was the day they’d rip her from her cage and kill her. Her stomach tumbled and her muscles shook. The cool outside air made her skin prickle, but the scent was sweet and salty like maybe she wasn’t far from the Gulf.
“Put those two next to the other bitch.” The command came from a skinny dude with the nasty goatee.
As he got closer, her breaths quickened. She recognized those tattoos on his arm. He was the one who’d taken her. God have mercy. She hadn’t seen his face during the abduction, but when he’d stuck the needle in her arm that day at the airport, she’d spotted the unforgettable snake and devil design on the back of his hand.
She shifted her gaze away from him and, only then, spotted women inside each of the two cages. One had dark hair like hers, and a second was a dirty blonde. Both girls looked close to her age. Though at twenty-three, she hardly considered herself a girl anymore.
Neither moved and Elena suspected they’d been drugged, too.
The skinny dude came up to her cage and kicked it. “I’ll be back. A good soak in the tub and I bet you’ll be ripe for the plucking.” He spit and walked out.
Bile tinged her throat, and she covered her mouth to keep the vomit from erupting. She made the sign of the cross and prayed for a miracle. She was going to die. Now there’d be no man in her life or little ones running around. Tears finally spilled from her eyes, and she wiped them away.
Elena dipped her head. There was only one thing left to do. “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”
When the big door closed, and they were once more shrouded in semi-darkness, she kept watch, not only for the men to return but also for the women to awaken. With the addition of these new girls, it probably wouldn’t be long before they eliminated her.
A sob escaped. Her mom’s birthday was in a month and she really wanted to be there with her. Now that wouldn’t happen and her heart trembled. A mother should never outlive her child.
One of the girls moaned and Elena faced her. She rapped her knuckles on her cage bars. “Hello? Can you hear me?” After dragging the pillow to the end of the cage, she knelt on it waiting for the first one to rouse. When Elena had first arrived, the drug they’d given her took a long time to wear off.
The blonde pushed up on her elbows then dropped back down. A trickle of hope surfaced. Three could think better than one.
“Hey. Open your eyes. It’s okay.” Not really, but any reassurance would help them cope once they found out what happened.
She needed to speak with them before the guard returned to tell them resistance was futile.
After prodding the new women for several minutes, the blonde opened her eyes and looked around.
She licked her lips. “Holy fuck. Where am I?” She grabbed the bars and rattled them. “Hey!”
Her anger at the injustice must have struck home.
“No one can hear you,” Elena said with an eerie calm.
The girl faced her. “Whoa. You look like shit. What the fuck’s going on?”
The girl swore too much, but given the situation, Elena understood people weren’t always at their best under these circumstances.
“Do you remember how you got here?” Perhaps all three of them had been abducted the same way.
“Fuck, yeah.” She brushed the hair from her face. “I was
leaving the club out the back door like I do every night when this dude stumbles toward me moaning and holding his stomach. I’m thinking maybe he’s been shot or something, so I go to help him. That was when he straightens and freaking sticks a needle right here.” She rubbed the back of her arm. “Doesn’t pay to be helpful.”
The girl’s experience kind of matched hers. Her mind spun at what that might mean. “Then you woke up here, right?”
“You’re a real genius.”
Why was the girl being nasty? Didn’t she understand their situation was quite dire? They’d be better off working as a team. “I’m Elena Sanchez.”
The blonde studied her. Given she was wearing a too short skirt and a top that barely covered her breasts, she might have been an exotic dancer or worse, a hooker. “Barbie Lassiter.” She leaned against the bars. “I could use another round of whatever they gave me.”
“You want drugs?”
“Girlie, there is nothing better than a little coke. You should try it some time.” Barbie rubbed the inside of her arm. “So, you want to tell me how the hell you got here? You homeless or something?”
“No. I was at the airport about to get on a plane to surprise my parents when a man who I thought was a security agent asked me to come with him. The same man who delivered you here stuck me with a needle. I’ve been here two weeks.”
“No shit. That sucks.”
At least the blonde was capable of some sympathy.
The brunette rolled over, draped an arm over her face, and coughed. She then pushed up on her hands and looked around, her hair in total disarray. She spotted Barbie. “Who are you?”
“Well, ain’t this a regular circus. I’m stuck here with two princesses.”
Elena had had enough. “What is your problem? Don’t you understand we could die soon? Be nice.”
“Sure, Pollyanna. That and a buck will buy me a cigarette.”
Elena refused to rise to the bait and kept her mouth shut. She turned toward the brunette. “I’m Elena.”
The girl faced her. Her pretty, heart-shaped face was accented with gorgeous blue eyes that looked like they belonged to a wolf rather than a human. “I’m Cheryl Johnson.”
What a stark contrast to Barbie. The soft way Cheryl said her name made her sound fragile. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
She rubbed her arms. “I came to Gulfside for a job interview. I’m a paralegal from Muncie, Indiana. Moving to Florida has always been my dream.”
“Did you get the job?”
Her chin trembled. “No. There was no job. I am the dumbest person alive. I had the cab drop me off at a rundown building outside of town. I stupidly ignored the little person in my head who told me that no respectable law firm would have a building out there. When I arrived, there was this nice woman sitting at a desk in a decent enough office, so I thought my paranoia was due to nerves. She smiled and then escorted me to a back room, where I thought I’d meet the lawyer.” Cheryl shook her head. “All I felt was a prick to the back of my arm and then nothing.” She sniffled.
Elena’s heart ached. That was so unfair. “Your poor parents. They’ll be worried sick.” As would her own when she didn’t call.
Cheryl glanced down. “I’m not on the best terms with them. Only my landlord will be upset when he doesn’t receive his rent check in three weeks.”
Both girls looked exhausted, but if Elena could just figure out why they were taken and what they had in common, she might be able to bargain with these horrible men.
Elena wet her dry lips. “Barbie, where do you work?”
Her chuckle came out harsh. “I’m an exotic dancer at Mons Venus.” She jerked her shoulders forward as if ready for a fight.
Elena mentally crossed herself and schooled her features. “I was a secretary for Harvey Couch.” Given he was such a jerk, perhaps he’d visited her strip club.
Before they got a chance to figure out what to do about their confinement, the side door opened and the hulking figure she’d come to accept as part of her world trudged in. He had three food trays with him and mumbled something that sounded Russian.
He shoved the meal through the small door at the bottom of each cage, and she wrinkled her nose at the stench. When she lifted the lid, she nearly gagged. It was some kind of porridge that smelled like burnt shoes rather than a cousin of the wheat family.
Elena didn’t complain though. Barbie, however, shoved it back out. “What is this shit?”
The guard picked it up, walked across the room, and dumped it in the trash. Like her, Barbie would learn that complaining would gain her nothing but pain.
“Hey,” Barbie yelled at the retreating figure. “I need to take a piss.”
The man pivoted and returned. He unhooked the latch on the door and it swung open. Barbie crawled out and winced when she stood.
“Follow.”
So, the giant could speak English. He led her outside instead of to the bathroom at the back of the warehouse. Elena was about to protest and ask why she had to use the filthy restroom in here and Barbie didn’t, but thought better of it.
Cheryl sat up and looked around. “What’s going to happen to us?” Not only was her hair a mess, her clothes were dirty and torn.
“I don’t know.”
Cheryl leaned against the bars and closed her eyes. Poor thing. From the way she wound her fingers, she was working hard to keep it together.
She dropped her head against the cage. “I never should have come down here. I knew the offer was too good to be true. Fifty-five thousand dollars to be a paralegal. Right.”
Greed. It seemed to be all about greed.
After an hour, Barbie still hadn’t returned, and Elena’s heart grew heavy. Dear Mary, mother of God. The girl was never coming back.
The killing had begun.
#
General Armand handed Clay Demmers a suitcase full of cash. “There’s fifteen thousand in there. The going rate for one of Couch’s girls is eight thousand. When we spoke with Elena Sanchez’s mother in Costa Rica, she said her daughter had never been with a man.”
Clay whistled. “That sucks.”
His partner, Dirk Tilton, shot him a dirty glance.
Clay shrugged. “What? Just saying, if we don’t buy her first, there’s no telling what will happen to her. A girl like Elena may be emotionally damaged for life if the wrong man gets a hold of her.” He turned back to the general. “Is Elena from Costa Rica?” Neither he nor Dirk spoke Spanish. Perhaps the general should put someone in charge who did.
“No. She grew up in Florida. Her parents moved down there, recently.” The general gave them the details of the exchange. “I also included some names you can drop to prove you run a high end strip club in Miami. Our contacts will vouch for you.”
In other words, they’d lie. He hoped he didn’t have to name drop too much. Neither had been in Miami in over a year. They’d done undercover work many times before and understood it was a slippery slope. Having their backgrounds hack proof would make for a smoother transition. One slip up and Elena Sanchez might be subjected to unthinkable acts.
“Any other intel we should be aware of?”
“If we go by past events, he usually sells ten girls at a time. But that was Couch. Now that he’s dead, it’s John Hood’s show.”
“What do we know about him?”
“He’s new. Likes to dress the part of the man in charge. From what I’ve heard, he can be ruthless. He’s slick. So, watch out for him.”
Clay nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
The sale was being held in the backroom of a strip club in the less than desirable part of Gulfside, Florida. To look the part, they dressed in fifteen-hundred dollar suits and three-hundred dollar shoes. Clay didn’t mind looking upscale once in a while, but Dirk kept tugging on his suit as if he’d rather roll in shit than put on the expensive clothes.
Dirk chose a black tie that Clay gave a thumbs-down. “Dude,” Clay said searching for another tie
. “We’re supposed to be flamboyant rich boys, not freaking lawyers. Here.” The red and yellow striped tie at least looked like it might have come from a Miami store.
“I can’t do this right anyway.” Dirk ripped off his conservative tie. “I never learned to tie one.”
That was because Dirk’s dad split when he was a kid, and he’d had to learn everything by himself. Dirk grabbed the tie and made a shitty looking Windsor knot.
“You suck.” Clay stepped in front of his friend and straightened the mess. At least the guy had shaved. “Let’s get this over with and hope we’re not too late.”
#
The morning after Barbie disappeared, Elena awoke to the sound of the warehouse’s side door opening. She expected the guard, but when the sweet scent of lavender perfume reached her, her pulse raced at the change in routine.
Dressed in a formfitting black dress with white trim, high heels, and a pearl necklace, a thin woman huddled next to a taller gentleman. He had neatly trimmed gray hair, and from the cut of his suit, was rich. Together, they reminded her of a couple from the nineteen fifties—her grandpa’s era. Sleep deprived, she couldn’t figure out what a classy looking couple would be doing in a dump like this.
As she stared at them, blood whooshed through her veins. Had they come to rescue her? Or should she be afraid they’d kill her?
The two newcomers stood ten feet away from the three cages as if getting any closer would sully them. They leaned near to each other and whispered. They glanced at her and tossed out words like heavy, greasy, needs work, but she couldn’t piece together what was going on. Then they looked over at Cheryl and bandied about the words high price and perfect.
The powerful-looking man nodded, stepped over to Elena’s cage, and opened her door. He yanked her out by the arm, and the torsion wrenched her shoulder. She yelped.
“Shut up.”
Elena swallowed a whimper. She really needed to use the bathroom but didn’t dare ask. They seemed to have other plans.
“Christ, you stink,” Mr. Suit said.
Like that was her fault? He turned her around, and when he slapped cuffs on her wrists, her heart hammered at the restriction. His rough handling bruised her skin, but she swallowed her complaint.