by Selena Kitt
But it never did.
Instead, a voice came on. “911. What’s your emergency?”
Thank-fucking-God.
“I’ve been kidnapped,” Tilly panted, trying to think of the fastest way to say it all—she knew they would be recording it—before she was discovered. “Me and a lot of other women. I think they’re going to sell us—sex trafficking.”
She knew that would get their attention, and she went on, “We’re on a ship. A cargo ship. I don’t know what it’s called, but I think we’re in Guilford Harbor. The name of the kidnapper is Erich Reichman and he owns a nightclub called The Block...”
Tilly paused in her information dump, blinking, trying to think of what else she could tell the woman on the other end of the phone. “Please, send help.”
What else what there to say?
“Can you be more precise about your location?”
“Uhhh...” Seriously? Tilly looked out the bridge windows. “I think we’re actually at the far end of the harbor. I’m not sure. I think it might be the north end>”
“Do you see a light from a lighthouse?”
“Oh my God, yes!” she cried. If the woman had been in front of her, she would have kissed her. “I don’t see anything but dark between us and that—oh wait. I see a big white number on a shed out on the dock. It says ‘eleven’. Maybe it’s Pier Eleven?”
“What’s your name?”
“Mathilda,” she answered, squinting out the windows, trying to find any more identifying information out there in the darkness that might help them locate her. Giving her name calmed her down somewhat, and a little bit of hope seemed to take flight in her chest. They were going to be rescued. This nightmare would have a happy ending after all, thanks to her. “Mathilda Beeston. Tilly.”
“Okay, Ma—Tilly. I’m sending emergency units to your approximate location. Can you tell me how many women are there with you? Is anyone in need of medical assistance?”
Tilly opened her mouth to answer, but an arm seized her about the middle from behind, squeezing her so hard she couldn’t breathe or speak. The phone was seized from her hand and slammed back on the cradle.
Chapter 19
“You couldn’t just stay at home like I told you?” the gruff voice asked in her ear. “Goddamnit, Tilly.”
Beast let her go and she whirled around to face him. He stood there wearing khakis and a black tank-top, arms crossed over his chest, so much anger in his eyes they were brimming with it. He was angry? At her? It was too much for Tilly. She didn’t even have words for him.
So she hit him—or she tried—both fists raised to pummel his chest, but he caught her wrists, shaking his dark head.
“You motherfucker!” she hissed, struggling to get away. “It’s too late—I called 911. They’re coming. They’re going to arrest both of you!”
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Beast said lowly, holding her wrists firmly. It was the first time she’d remembered how bloody and torn up they were, and he frowned when she yelped in pain.
“Me?” She gaped at him, seeing the horror in his eyes when he saw how bad her wrists were. What did he think, it was going to be a nice cruise across the ocean into sexual slavery? “Fuck you, Beast! Just—fuck you!”
“You made a mistake,” he told her, grabbing her forearms instead of her wrists when she came at him again with her fists this time. “Coming here—”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious!” she snapped. “Clearly my first mistake was ever believing a goddamned word that came out of your lying bastard mouth!”
“Tilly, listen to me,” he said, pulling her closer, so he didn’t have to talk loud to be heard. It was unsettling to her, and she tried to twist away, but there was no use. He was three times her size and had ten times her strength. “I warned you about Erich and I warned Frankie, too. I told you—”
“Oh right!” She gave a strangled laugh, rolling her eyes. Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious. “Yeah, let’s see, you said, ‘Hey Frankie, hey Tilly, Erich and I are into this BDSM thing with a little white slavery on the side, so you might wanna back off or you might get kidnapped and sold. Right! Now I remember, that’s exactly what you said, right? Silly Tilly, of course you—!”
Beast let go of her forearms, seizing her by the shoulders and pulling her hard to his chest. She gasped—it was like hitting a wall—and he kissed her. His mouth bruised hers, teeth raking her lips, a low noise escaping his throat as his arms went around her, trapping her against him. She was too stunned to move or react and, momentarily, offered no resistance. In fact, she went completely limp in surprise and nearly slipped right to the floor.
“Quit noodling,” he whispered against her mouth and she felt the hint of a smile there. She hadn’t heard that term in years. They used to play a game like that, where she’d go limp and wiggle out of his arms, didn’t they?
She used his lowered defenses to burst out of his arms and when he grabbed her again, turning her face him, she wound up to punch him, not caring if her small fist did any damage or not. It would just feel good to hit him!
He grabbed her to him again, pinning her arms at her sides.
“You little idiot,” he hissed, looking back over his shoulder and then at her, eyes blazing. “Do you really believe I’d have anything to do with human trafficking? That I’d let a guy like Erich get away with something like this?”
“But…” She blinked at him, taken aback, fumbling with an answer for that. She’d seen and heard for herself, him addressing Erich like she wasn’t even there, talking about selling her. “I thought… you…”
Then she hammered on the only thing she could think of. “What about the BDSM thing? I never would have thought you would do that, either, but—”
“For fuck’s sake, Tilly!” He rolled his eyes briefly toward the ceiling, as if flabbergasted by her leap in logic. “If you can’t see the difference between that and this?”
He shook his head in disbelief, and all the air went out of her argument. He must have sensed her collapse, because he pulled her to him, enveloping her in a tight, back-crushing embrace, and she let him, hearing him whisper the words, “Did you really think, for one minute, that I would sell you? You, of all people?”
“But I thought…” She swallowed, turning into his shirt, hiding her face. She hadn’t thought, had she? She’d just reacted. That little voice had known, from the very beginning, if she’d only listened. Erich couldn’t be trusted, but Beast? He was her rock. He loved her, even when he was running as far and fast as he could in the other damned direction, even when he denied it and pushed her away and told her no—he’d always loved her.
“Erich’s selling women,” Tilly choked out. “Frankie’s downstairs in a room with a bunch of other girls. He’s—”
“I know, baby,” he whispered, stroking her hair, her back. “He’s living-fucking-scum, and I’m here to stop him. Now—can you stay the hell out of my way?”
“I thought I was helping Frankie,” she cried. “Erich said… he said—”
She could barely remember, now, what he’d said to get her to run out of the house and straight into his little trap.
“If you’d just trusted me,” he said softly. “Both you and Frankie would be home safe right now.”
Tilly didn’t have an answer for that, too stunned and uncertain to say anything else.
“Trust me.” He reached down and lifted her chin, holding it, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Don’t doubt for a minute that I’m going to keep you safe. You have to do what I say, even if you’re scared. You have to obey me. Pretend we’re alone on The Bottom Floor, baby, and say the words.”
Yes sir. That’s what he wanted to hear. But she couldn’t do it—not now. Not after his betrayal—or, what her broken heart still felt as one. How could he ask her to trust him? How did she know he wasn’t playing her for a fool, right this very minute?
“I can’t,” she choked, shaking her head. “Just tell me w
hat’s happening. I need to know. I—”
“Goddammit!” Beast swore, grinding his teeth. “You don’t need to know anything! Erich or one of the crew could come through that door and hear us, and then what? If they find out what’s really going on, we’re all dead.”
“What is really going on?” she whispered, glancing at the door, all too aware now that they could be interrupted. “Please, just tell me. Trust me enough to tell me…”
“I can’t.” He shook his head, stubborn. “Tilly, do you know how close I came to losing it, when I saw you? Fuck. I nearly emptied a whole magazine into his head, and that would have killed the whole operation.”
And Erich, Tilly thought, but didn’t say. Operation? What operation? What the hell was he talking about?
“So you really don’t want to sell me?”
“At the moment, I could strangle you,” he growled, grabbing her in another tight, bear hug. “But no—I can’t even believe Erich would think, for a minute, that I’d allow it. Thank God he’s a fucking idiot.”
“What operation?” Tilly asked, voice muffled against his shirt.
“I can’t tell you more than I already have,” he said, sighing as he let her go. “Tilly, if you love me, you’re going to have to trust me. Say the words. Tell me you’ll do what I say. Without question.”
She opened her mouth to protest—he was asking too much—but the look in his eyes stopped her. And the tremble in his lips as he pursed them, his gaze sweeping over her, decided her.
“Yes sir,” she said, giving him half a salute, and that made him give her the ghost of a smile.
“Good girl.” He grabbed her upper arms and lifted her to him in a long, hard, crushing kiss that took her breath away. Then he told her, delivering the news like a death sentence, “I have to take you downstairs, and put you back with the other girls.”
“No,” she whispered, horrified. After everything she’d done to escape? She couldn’t! She wouldn’t!
“Just say the words, Tilly.” He looked pained, like he hated to ask her. “You’ll be safe there, I promise you, until this is all over. That’s why you were there in the first place. Do you think I’d let anything happen to those girls? To you?”
“I…” She took a deep, shuddering breath, her body trembling. Her clothes were still wet, but that wasn’t what was causing the shivers. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” He hugged her quickly, lending her his strength. “Just be brave for me, a little longer. Just a little longer, Tills.”
Tilly pulled away, looking up at him, lost. How could she believe him? How could she not?
She turned, glancing back at him, as she brought her hands together behind her back.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, feeling tears stinging her eyes. Her shoulders ached again in this position, her wrists chafed and raw.
“Later, I’m going to spank you so fucking hard,” he murmured as he came up behind her and zip-tied her hands. She winced—they were still so very sore—but preened under his praise. “And I shouldn’t tell you this—because you should have listened to me and stayed home in the first place—but I’m damned proud of you.”
“What for?” Tilly looked back at him with big eyes and he chuckled.
“For figuring out how to get out of these, for one.” His hands moved over the zip ties around her wrists. “And climbing out the porthole? Christ, girl. You’re unstoppable.”
He kissed the top of her head, long and lingering. “I have to be rough with you. I don’t mean any of it. Just play along. I won’t hurt you.”
Beast took her off the bridge and once they were in the presence of others—a few guards on the main deck—he made a show of being mean, yanking her around, forcing her to stumble and catching her again. He threw several nasty comments in for the benefit of the guards—she wondered if he needed to be that convincing—but he kept shoving Tilly along the main deck, towards the forward superstructure. Back to the room she’d escaped from.
The guard at the door stared at them, open-mouthed, as Beast dragged her down the hallway. He’d had no idea Tilly had even escaped.
“What the...?”
“Porthole,” snarled Beast, as the guard unlocked the door for them. “You’ve got an extra padlock in the storage room next door, yeah? Lock it—from the outside. And keep a closer eye next time or I’ll let Debrovna know about this.”
“Okay, yeah, sorry,” the guard ran a hand through his hair, looking completely bewildered.
“I mean it,” Beast snapped over his shoulder as he pushed Tilly into the room. “I don’t want anyone near this room. We’re about ready to move, and I don’t want any distractions, or I’d call him right now. If there’s a next time, you can be sure he’ll hear about it.”
The guard seemed genuinely scared of what Debrovna would do under such circumstances and he hurriedly rushed off for a padlock. It was just in time, because Frankie tackled Beast as he filled the doorway, probably in an attempt to get past him. Beast sighed, grabbing her around the waist and turning her around so she couldn’t kick and punch him as he slapped a big hand over her mouth.
“Tilly, tell Frankie I’m not going to kill her,” he hissed.
“It’s okay,” Tilly urged, putting her arms around Frankie, hoping to calm her down. Tilly was relieved to see Frankie, unhurt, still unbound and ungagged. “It’s… Beast isn’t part of this. He’s going to help us. We just… we have to stay down here a while.”
“What?” Frankie asked behind Beast’s hand. He slowly lowered it, warning her to be quiet. She whispered urgently to Tilly. “How can you trust him? Are you out of your mind?”
“If you’d listened to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be here,” Beast reminded her quietly, letting her go. She glared back at him, but Tilly soothed her. “I’m going to have to bind her again, too, Tills.”
“No way!” Frankie backed away from him, shaking her head. “No fucking way!”
“Goddamnit, Frankie, get over here,” Beast growled. “Don’t make me chase you.”
“Do what he says,” Tilly urged, nodding her head. “It’ll be okay.”
At least, she hoped it would.
Outside, the guard was pulling the porthole closed, locking it, while Frankie submitted and let Beast put another zip tie on her wrists. I know how to get out of them, now, if I have to, Tilly thought. But Beast was about to leave and shut that big, lockable door behind him, posting a guard to make sure they didn’t escape again. And what if something happened?
“I’ll be back for you when it’s over,” Beast said, his voice low, only for them. “Hang in there. Not much longer.”
“Not much longer for wh—” Frankie asked, but Beast was putting the gag back into her mouth.
Then Beast turned to Tilly, kissing her quickly before gagging her, too, and leaning in to whisper, “I love you, Tills,” just before the guard came back to his post.
“Lock this door—and make sure no one else escapes,” Beast warned the guard as the door closed behind him.
Tilly let herself slide down the wall, sitting beside Frankie. A few of the other women were awake and had watched what transpired, but most were still sleeping. The two friends sat shoulder to shoulder. Tilly wondered what Frankie was thinking—she probably thought help had come when the door opened and she saw Tilly.
Well, maybe it had, Tilly thought, closing her eyes and praying everything on the other side of the door went however Beast had clearly planned it. And she had called 911, after all, she remembered, shifting on the cold, hard floor, trying to get comfortable. She ached all over, but that was overshadowed by the fear and anxiety creeping through her.
They weren’t out of danger. Even Beast. He’d refused to tell her any details, but she could start putting some of the puzzle pieces together—and she shuddered at the idea of “Debrovna” showing up. She had no idea who he was, but she didn’t want to find out either.
Be safe, she prayed, closing her eyes, the same prayer she’d r
epeated to herself over and over when she knew he was overseas. Be safe, and come back to me.
Something’s wrong.
She woke up from a dream, a nightmare, really, where she was on a giant ship that had stairs and hallways like a maze and she was looking for a way out but couldn’t find one. She woke up to find that her nightmare was real, her neck stiff from leaning against Frankie while she slept. The steel floor was unforgiving, and she couldn’t get comfortable, not with her hands tied behind her back, but still, she’d slept.
Tilly had no idea how much time had passed. The only light in the room was weak, coming from the porthole above, the moon reflecting off the night sea. From time to time, the brief flash of the lighthouse swept by, and was gone.