by J. S. Scott
“I am. I swear I am,” I answered in a pleading tone. “Why else would I be here?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” he demanded.
I startled as he grabbed a large hunk of my hair, yanked my head back, and I felt cold metal against my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I verified what I already knew. He was holding a gun to the side of my head.
“Tell me!” he bellowed. “What in the hell were you looking for?”
“Nothing. I just stopped in here because I could see the bookshelf.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to think about the weapon aimed at my head.
Keeping his grip on my hair and the gun close to his target, he pushed me in front of him. “Move,” he said in a menacing voice, pushing me to set my body in motion.
“Where?” I asked, trying not to let my fear take over.
“We’re going to take a fucking ride. I don’t trust you here.”
My heart was racing as I stumbled over my high heels in front of him, his grip on my hair feeling like he was tearing it from my scalp.
Marcus! Signal for Marcus.
There was no way I was getting away from Becker’s death grip. If I released the pepper spray, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t shoot me on the spot.
The only way to get help was to bring Marcus into the mess I’d just created. But I was terrified he’d get wounded or end up dead. There was no way for me to warn him that Greg had a gun.
I hesitated as Becker pushed me outside and toward his vehicle in the driveway, trying to think about how I could pull myself out of the situation without getting Marcus hurt.
As ordered, I climbed into the passenger seat from the driver’s side, his weapon trained on me the entire time.
“You’ll pay for your betrayal, bitch. Nobody snoops around me and lives to tell about it,” he bragged as he got into the driver’s seat.
“Greg, I wasn’t snooping. I was just looking at your office,” I said, trying to reason with a madman.
“I told you what to do, and you had to go digging around. I said to stay out of the other rooms. You brought this on yourself.”
Sweet Jesus! He was so paranoid that I wasn’t going to be able to reason with him.
He pushed the button to start the vehicle, and I started to contemplate whether or not I should push the panic button for Marcus’s backup.
By now, he’d probably seen us. The house was sheltered, but if he was on the street, he might already know what was happening. If he came into the situation knowing Becker had a weapon, he might be more careful.
My thoughts instantly dissipated as the lights in the car came back on, and Becker was temporarily diverted by a man standing next to the open driver’s side door. The gun that he had trained on me wavered for a moment, and it only took me seconds to figure out why.
“I’m taking this vehicle, asshole. Get out or I’ll blow your head off,” Marcus growled in a low, agitated tone.
Like Becker, Marcus had a gun, and it was leveled at Becker’s head.
Like I was watching in slow motion, the weapon moved from being aimed at me and started toward Marcus.
With a twist of a stone, I hit my mark with the pepper spray in my bracelet. A wounded howl escaped from Becker’s mouth as I grabbed for his gun.
Marcus moved faster than me, grabbing Becker’s shirt and hauling him out of the vehicle, and then slamming him to the ground as he intercepted Becker’s gun in the process.
He hopped into the driver’s seat and sped away, making sure he had the keys in the vehicle before he left Becker’s bellowing figure on the ground.
I fumbled for the control for the windows, opening the one on my side as fast as possible because of the discharged pepper spray.
I panted for breath, my heart galloping as I realized that I’d escaped with Marcus.
“What are you doing? Where are we going?” I asked in a panicked tone.
“Not far,” he answered in a clipped tone.
We stopped a few blocks away from Becker’s house. “Are we getting out?”
“Get into my sedan. Go!” he said in an urgent tone.
I stumbled out of the luxury sports car and to the vehicle I’d seen Marcus driving earlier in the day. I’d barely closed the door when he stepped on the gas and sped away from the abandoned vehicle.
I didn’t speak as Marcus drove. My body was still shaking, and I was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Marcus had appeared out of nowhere, and I’d definitely been looking for any sign of him when Becker had brought me outside. Everything had happened so fast. All I’d been able to process was the fact that Becker was trying to shoot Marcus. I’d acted completely on instinct when I’d released the pepper spray.
Finally, I said in a husky whisper, “You’re safe. We’re both safe.”
“I could have used some help before you used the chemicals,” Marcus said tightly. “If you were in trouble, why didn’t you signal for me?”
It was a reasonable question. I just wasn’t sure how to answer.
Jett
I’d done some crazy-ass shit in my life, but what was happening before my eyes was one of the weirdest things I’d ever seen.
I watched as a naked woman left the stage, obviously happy that her body had fetched a high price, judging by her smile. Apparently, not all of the women here were victims, but I had no doubt many of them were either brainwashed or coerced into the situation.
Jesus Christ!
What female would want to be sold like their value was nothing more than monetary? Probably not many.
I’d done some bad things in the past, usually to save lives or keep people from getting hurt. I’d done plenty of illegal hacking. I’d even used a gun to fire on terrorists when I was working with Marcus for PRO. I might have been the tech guy, but every one of us had been skilled with weapons of all types.
But I’d never—in my wildest damn dreams—imagined the atrocities that were happening here at this club tonight.
My body stiffened as I realized the grand finale of the evening, the virgin sale, was about to occur.
I heard men talking in hoarse whispers as a naked woman stepped into the spotlight on stage, and then my heart completely stopped.
The woman looked young, probably barely drinking age—if not younger. I had no doubt that this was Ruby, and I already knew she was almost twenty-three years old, but she looked like she could be straight out of high school. Her body was youthful and curvaceous, her pussy obviously shaved to make her look even younger than she did naturally.
For fuck’s sake, even her hair was in two ponytails at the side of her head, and she was completely devoid of makeup—not that she needed any.
She was beautiful in a totally earthy way. But her expression was what was making my heart do strange things that it had never done before.
Her head was held high, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I’d gotten a table near the stage, and I could see her swallow hard as she tried to gather up the courage to keep her chin up.
She was trembling, even though she was trying to wrap her arms around herself to try to stop it and hide it. When the man holding onto a thin chain around her waist knocked her hands away from her body to put her on better display, I had to keep myself from jumping onto the stage and strangling the bastard.
The MC’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker. “What would you give to get this pretty young thing into your bedroom? She’s one-hundred-percent virgin, and ready for whatever you have planned for her. Or maybe you prefer a dungeon where you can torment her slowly before you take what you paid for. A prize like this is worth any price. She’s afraid, and I have a feeling she’d put up a good fight. Imagine punishing this one for being a naughty girl. Gentlemen...let’s start the bidding.”
My gut rolled. Jesus! I had to admit I’d been around the block, and I could be as kinky as the next guy. But this was way too difficult for me to be comfortable observing.
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The young woman looked hopeless, and I was almost feeling her pain and humiliation.
I tried to catch her eyes, but she was still staring straight ahead, her head up like she was trying to salvage her pride.
I frowned as I looked closer, noticing that she was biting her lower lip.
Protective instincts surged up inside me, the need to save this woman from further pain and humiliation so strong that I had to force myself to stay in my seat.
The bidding was ridiculous, a slow torture that I almost wanted to just end by offering any price for her.
Stay cool. Stay calm.
I looked around the room, watching some rich old men practically salivating to get their hands on the woman gracing the stage.
Hell, I wanted her, too. I wasn’t innocent. But I was more desperate to rescue her than I was to fuck her at the moment.
I didn’t want a terrified female.
All I wanted was a woman who actually wanted me now that I was damaged goods. But Lisette had already taught me a lesson about wanting more than I could ever have.
I was damaged, and there was no way in hell I was ever going to find anybody who didn’t cringe at my scars. Hell, sometimes they even made me look away from the injuries on my own body.
I signaled to the auctioneer—if I could really call him that—to up my bid.
I wasn’t leaving the building without Ruby.
The bidding hit six figures, and men started to slowly drop out with disgruntled looks. The amount of money being offered was nothing to me. I had more money than I could spend in plenty of lifetimes. I didn’t care if we hit seven figures or beyond.
I had no more than placed my bid when I suddenly looked up and met Ruby’s gaze. Her steady, tormented expression made me want to just scoop her up, wrap her in something warm, and take her home with me.
I knew something about her life, things that Dani had shared with me.
She was a woman who’d never really known kindness.
She was a woman who’d usually been cold, defenseless, and alone on the streets.
She’d been hungry.
She’d been frightened.
And by God, I was going to show her that not all people were bad.
Ruby deserved a whole lot better than the crappy hand that life had dealt her.
I sent her a conspirator type of wink and a grin. I was rewarded by the first hint of emotion from her dark and tortured eyes.
For just an instant, I saw a glint of hope pass across her face before it fled just as quickly.
Dani hadn’t told Ruby exactly how she’d help her, but I was hoping she’d understand that the last thing I wanted was to hurt her.
Finally, Ruby was going once.
Going twice.
Sold—to the gentleman in the front row.
I breathed a damn sigh of relief.
Ruby was coming home with me.
Dani
“Marcus, is this big rush really necessary?” I asked as I fastened my seat belt for takeoff in his massive jet.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
Okay, he was angry at me for not signaling for him to come and help me. Maybe I should have explained that I was terrified that something would happen to him, but I’d made up some stupid excuse instead.
He hadn’t liked my explanation.
So, he’d been nearly silent while he’d driven like a bat out of hell to the airport.
Honestly, the whole carjacking idea had been brilliant. The ruse and the lack of connection between me and Marcus had been perfect. I’d already handed over the tiny camera to a government official who had taken it when we’d arrived at Marcus’s jet, and left almost immediately to have the information analyzed.
If they could get what they needed, Becker would go down. If Greg thought Marcus was simply a carjacker or a thug, then he wouldn’t really get twitchy about the fact that someone might be onto him. He’d be most likely to believe the criminal who’d taken the car and the woman inside the vehicle had gotten cold feet when they found me in the car and both of us had bailed. Or at least that’s what I hoped he’d believe. It would give law enforcement time to do what was needed to arrest the jerk.
I knew we were headed to Rocky Springs. I’d heard Marcus talking to the pilot. “I don’t even have a home in Colorado,” I informed him.
“You’ll be staying with me,” he replied in a voice that allowed no argument.
“Do I have a choice in this decision?”
“No,” he answered flatly.
“And will you continue to be pissed off at me?”
I could have mentioned that I had a sister in Colorado, one I could most certainly stay with when I arrived. However, I could tell now wasn’t the time to be argumentative with him.
Marcus was…well…he was Marcus. That meant he was bossy as hell, which could be incredibly annoying. But it was hard to get angry at a man who kept saving my ass.
“Most likely,” he grumbled.
“I wish you wouldn’t be,” I shared. “You saved my life tonight.”
“Again,” he said in an ornery tone.
Granted, he had saved my butt twice now. And I was grateful. But I didn’t want to spend the whole trip to Colorado with him in a mood. “Thank you,” I said, putting a hand on his arm in gratitude.
“Don’t thank me. I’m beginning to think it’s my goal in life to make sure you stay alive.”
The fact that he cared enough to keep saving me was actually humbling. Marcus was one of the richest men in the world, and he had a lot on his plate. He didn’t have to worry, but he did. It said a lot about his heart and the kindness that was buried underneath his sarcastic and gruff exterior.
“I didn’t want Becker to hurt you,” I said in a rush. “I was afraid because he had a gun. I didn’t want him to take you unaware and have you end up injured or dead because of me.”
Marcus was silent for a moment before he said, “If I ever let somebody take me unaware, I’d be dead by now. For God’s sake, Danica, it’s not like I didn’t know that asshole didn’t have more than one gun.”
“I couldn’t risk it,” I told him as I removed my hand from his arm.
“You should have,” he argued. “Christ! I’d never get over it if something had happened to you. It would have destroyed me.”
My heart tripped as I realized his anger was all for me, generated by his fear for my safety.
Oh, Marcus. You’re a better man than you know.
Maybe he was formidable, but the guy had a good heart.
“I was willing to take the risk,” I reminded him.
He turned his head and pinned me with his steel-colored stare. “I wasn’t,” he growled. “I hated this whole damn idea from the beginning. Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head slowly, mesmerized by the volatile emotion I could see in his gaze. “No. Not really.”
I could feel the jet leveling off, and the seat belt sign went off.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I said as my head began to spin.
I fumbled with the restraint and then stumbled to my feet.
Marcus steadied me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I’ll be fine.”
I used the seats for balance as I sprinted toward the toilet. Once I’d closed the door, I lowered the toilet seat and sat down.
I’d gotten there just in time.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my heart began to race until I was gasping for breath. A loud sound started to buzz in my head, and tears flowed down my cheeks. I put my hand on the counter by the sink, willing the helpless feeling to go away.
But it seemed like it lasted forever.
“Danica? Dani? What the hell is the matter?” I heard Marcus say, his voice muffled by the ringing in my ears.
I was swept up into my own dizzy, heart-pounding, breathless world for what seemed like an endless period of time before I started to come back down again.
“Dani!” Marcus called to me,
demanding that I respond.
Problem was, I couldn’t say anything. Not until my body belonged to me again.
I put my trembling hand on my thigh, leaning over to get some air. I felt like I was choking, but I knew I wasn’t.
Finally, the fog started to clear and I started to suck in some deeper breaths.
“I’m making an emergency landing,” Marcus said emphatically. “I think we need to get you to a hospital.”
As I came back into my body, I protested. “No. Don’t.”
He was kneeling in front of me, holding a cold cloth to my sweaty forehead. “I don’t know what’s wrong—”
“I know. Just give me a minute,” I pleaded. I started to take deep breaths and straightened up, taking the cloth from his hand to wipe my perspiring face.
“You’re getting some color back. Jesus! You were as white as a sheet. What happened?”
“Panic attack,” I answered. “I haven’t had a full-blown attack in a long time. I guess what happened tonight just brought it on. It won’t kill me.”
I was mortified that I’d fallen apart in front of him, but I’d forgotten that the bathroom had an entrance from the bedroom where he’d come in.
“You have panic attacks?” he asked gently. “Since the incident a year ago?”
I nodded as I started to feel steadier, my heart regaining its regular rhythm. “I thought I was over them. They were pretty bad after I got back to the States a year ago. Through therapy, I’ve slowly recovered from my PTSD and anxiety. But I guess I’m not quite there yet. I’m sorry.”
He took my hands into his as he told me, “Don’t be sorry for something you can’t control. If the only thing you’re left with is an occasional panic attack, you’re doing well. Jesus, Dani. You’ve been through hell and back. Why can’t you give yourself a break?”
“It helps to be busy,” I said weakly.
“You can stay occupied with something safe,” he said in a graveled voice. “How are you feeling now?”
“I’m okay now. I hate not having control when they happen. I feel like I can’t breathe, I get really dizzy and disconnected, and my heart races about a million miles a minute. It’s embarrassing, and I feel so damn helpless. My last experience with this was months ago. I’ve learned how to deal with them, but I guess it’s still going to happen occasionally, especially if I’m stressed out.”