Once she slept it off, though, she was back to her feisty self. So, I let her free into the hallway and invited Miles up for a little game of cats and mouse. The easiest way to get her to make her decision between fending for herself with anyone else in the building and me.
But even that only worked for a little while, and after she begged me to take her back inside, what did I do? I shoved a butt plug up her ass and tied her to my bed.
Her mini-induction—but more importantly, my moment to get out and regroup my thoughts. She had to come face to face with what she’d been dragged into and I, for the life of me, had to get away.
I also had to finish my report—which was going on more than eight hours late.
How the hell was I supposed to explain?
I took the phone and went up to the roof. The only place that was never bugged or monitored—even though a few of our crew sometimes liked to use it for hook ups, as if there wasn’t an entire compound of places to do it.
After checking the area, I sat against the wall near the edge and did what I didn’t usually do—I called in.
“How’s the weather?” Trent asked—he sounded alarmed, but didn’t give anything away. We had a code—one that hadn’t appeared in any code books except the ones we wrote as kids. It was simple enough but served our needs.
“Feels like rain. And that’s not the least of my worries.”
“Sounds like you could use a drink.”
“It’s a girl problem,” I said somberly. “A major one.”
“Aren’t they always?” Trent was quiet for a moment, then came back on. “Lines look clear.”
“They brought her in today. Picked her up off the street, I’d guess. Can you get her out?”
“Fuck.” I heard a rustle of noise, but silence from Trent. “Only if we bring the whole thing down early. I can’t even guarantee we can do that at the moment. I can call in. See if we can get everyone mobilized.”
“Damn it, T—” I cut off before saying his name. “She’s in my bed. It’s either them or me.”
“You can keep her with you, then? Without putting either of you at greater risk?” He made it sound like that was the obvious and easy solution.
“We’re already at greater risk. The only way I can get away with it is to train her, and you know what that means.”
“I’ll take this up and we’ll look for an extraction opportunity.”
“One that won’t get us killed, preferably.” I knew I didn’t have to remind him, but speaking it made me feel a smidge more confident.
“Don’t blow your cover.”
This was all more than I bargained for when I came in. She was an innocent girl—not that the others deserved any of it. They were the only reason I could justify the naïve hope that any of my work would make a difference in the long run.
“Remember how far off the books you are,” Trent said. I was the first and only person to infiltrate this far, and it was only through doing things that were in no means legal or scrupulous.
“No price too high for one man’s head. An unplanned raid doesn’t increase either of our chances, so I’ll play my part and keep her as safe as I can, but I can guarantee she isn’t going to like it.”
“I’ll make damn sure she’s taken care of when we find a way to extract her. Get me her name, and I’ll keep the heat off as well.”
“Appreciated. Is this what you’d do?” I had to ask, had to be sure I wasn’t deluded and using some excuse made up by my warped subconscious to keep her.
“I’d keep her alive. There’s no way to sneak her out?”
“Gabe isn’t exactly discrete about anything. Everyone already knows—they knew before I got involved.”
“Do what you have to.”
“I don’t think this is what they meant by ‘any means necessary’.”
“They sure as hell didn’t mean it was going to be easy.”
I disconnected the phone and took one final breath of fresh air before heading back down to my new twenty-four-seven torture chamber. I had hoped that she’d calmed down while I was gone—or that she was at least smart enough not to push, but I was wrong. Shortly after I opened the bedroom door, she snapped once again.
“I have to piss.”
Did she not understand where the hell she was or what she was in for?
Back at square one again. Who the hell was I kidding, that would have been an improvement. My jaw spasmed because I was clenching my teeth so hard. Anger wasn’t going to be so hard to come by—she was going to get us killed. “Try again.”
She didn’t open her mouth, though she looked like she was going to, and that was enough to give anyone away around Ross.
I turned away. I needed a shower before dinner, so I figured I might as well let her sit and stew, but I added a final warning before I left. “If you piss my bed, I’ll take payment out of your ass when I get back.”
“Please,” she called.
That damn voice could get even me to waver.
“Please, let me go to the bathroom.”
But I couldn’t give in that easily. I turned back to look at her, leaning as casually as I could manage against the door frame.
I watched her struggle between her own needs and her will, before she whispered, “Master.”
Her eyes closed as she uttered the only acceptable title she could use to address me, and my stomach twisted. I swallowed my own disgust and nodded, “I guess that’ll do for now.”
I freed her from her chained prison, but before she could step away, I had to solidify our understanding. “Crawl.”
Of course, she didn’t take that as well as I hoped either.
“Is this how you get your jollies?”
“You’re going to become very familiar with how I get my jollies.” As soon as I stepped toward her, she lowered to her knees. I tried to watch, just in case she looked back, but once she was out of sight, I plunged onto the bed.
I knew there was no way I could keep up with the exhausting charade—not as long as she remained as obstinate as a mountain. And I had to figure out a way to overcome that without breaking her completely. I picked up the chain, mindlessly swirling it and wrapping it around my fingers.
She came around the corner on hands and knees, and I saw her face visibly pale as soon as she saw the chain in my hands, but she approached anyway. Stubborn, belligerent, and brave.
Three traits that’d get her killed.
I dropped the chain to the floor next to the bed. “Come up here.”
She paused, but finally climbed onto the bed and straddled my lap as I directed, and damned if I didn’t feel like I was losing it. The bruises from her encounter with Gabe’s buffoons were starting to set in, but she pulled back and shut herself off as I examined her.
Such a degrading way to make sure nothing was broken, but if she didn’t believe my act, no one else would either. I realized the plug in her ass was probably growing even more uncomfortable with time, especially if she hadn’t experimented with them before.
Not that I could ask since I wasn’t supposed to care.
“Hate me all you want, Sugar,” I said, hoping to get her to walk a fine line between trust and fear where she might listen. “I’m the only ally you have.”
“Ally...?” she whispered. “You’re going to hurt me.” Her eyes filled again, but she blinked it away and held back just like she had in the basement, and I couldn’t face her any longer.
“I am,” I replied—it was as much honesty as I could muster. Then, I lifted her off of me, flipping her over. “Ass up.”
Even though she kept up her protective walls, I saw her body visibly relax when I pulled the plug free and sat it on the side table. It was going to be hard enough for her to kneel through dinner. I hoped the threat of it might make her more compliant.
The mix of vulnerability countered with her impossible stubbornness had an aphrodisiac effect on me. I had been convinced this was the only way we’d survive, but for the first time,
I truly considered the effect it was going to have on both of us.
Chapter 3
No Escape
The next day, my cousin Evan came to pick me up. I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital—a night’s sleep that didn’t involve being woken by nurses and a day that didn’t include Dr. Combs clawing through my memories sounded like heaven. But between checkups, the three appointments a week Dr. Combs insisted on, and interviews and paperwork that I had to complete, I wasn’t sure how the hell I was supposed to get any rest.
Dr. Combs was trying to fit in as many sessions as possible in the time I’d agreed to not contacting Rose, but I was convinced that it would be her questions that would push me over the edge.
Rose. I kept repeating her name over and over in my head, trying to rewrite my mental programming. I tried to picture her face as well, happy and smiling as I imagined it now. Free from the torment and stress of being with me at the Retreat. I needed a new positive image to shed the memories.
But with every attempt my mind snapped, reeling me back with images of her face twisted in pain. Memories of other women kneeling at my feet or laying helpless across the dinner table as Ross forced them to endure sexual acts.
Once I was settled in at Evan’s house, the only things I really cared about were the bed and the bathroom. While I got relatively comfortable, he and Trent went to pick up a trunk of my clothes from the storage container.
Step one to pretending everything is okay apparently included a touch of nostalgia.
“Do you need anything?” Katie asked quietly from the doorway. She’d been downstairs with their two-year-old son Jack when I’d come up to lay down.
“No,” I mumbled into the pillow.
“You sure?”
“No,” I repeated, lifting my head so that it was a little louder.
She came into the room anyway and leaned against the footboard of the bed. I’d known Katie for more than five years—since she and Evan had started dating. Evan was the closest member I still had of my family. His parents had moved to a warmer climate after retiring, and although he, Katie, and Jack visited them for a few weeks every year. I was thankful that they stuck around. We’d grown up within an hour of each other, but I started spending more time with them after my sister’s death. It hit my parents hard, and they followed her a few years later.
“Evan has an electric razor tucked under the sink if you need to use it,” she said.
“I look that bad?”
“Nah,” she curled her lips, “not if you’re going for the rugged hitchhiker look.”
“And I take it no one trusts me with a blade?”
“I thought it would be easier, but I’ll pick you up some razors tomorrow if you prefer.”
I buried my head in the pillows. “Has someone put down some kind of order that I’m supposed to talk for a required amount of time each day?”
“No.” She brushed her cropped blond hair back, digging her fingers through it a couple of times. She didn’t continue speaking, but she didn’t leave either.
“Say what you want to say, Kate. I’m sure it’s not something I haven’t heard or already told myself.”
“I didn’t particularly come to say anything.”
I propped my forearm under my head, so I didn’t have to strain my neck to look down at her.
“Even injured, you’re not the kind to stay silently in bed all day. Is there anything I can do?”
“Sounds like you did have something to say. And, not really. Sleeping is my only escape at the moment.” Even though it wasn’t really effective once I started dreaming.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything—company included. And, no questions—I hear they make you cranky.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Kate.”
“Offer never expires.”
As she disappeared, I drowned in my own thoughts again. I wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but I wanted to see Rose so bad I felt like my chest was being sucked in on itself.
My eyes shot open. I was curled up in the bed like a five-year-old trying to hide from the boogie man. I could barely remember the dream, yet its fog twisted my brain into a tailspin of paranoia, fear, and anger.
I wiped my clammy hand over my face and threw the blankets to the side.
Dr. Combs was right. Fuck me, she was right and the realization made my hands quiver. I clambered to the bathroom and splashed a handful of cold water over my face. I looked like a mess. A screwed up, and—as Katie had pointed out, rugged—mess.
I fished the electric shaver from under the counter and frowned. I hated those things, but I figured it’d have to do, to at least get rid of the scraggle forming.
Once I was moderately presentable again, I considered curling back up in bed, but I forced my legs to bypass quiet respite and headed for the stairs.
Katie was on the couch—sitting sideways with a book on her lap while Jack slept on a little cot nearby. It was quite possible that the living room was a bad idea since the kid had obviously decided to booby trap it against my entry.
“Sorry,” Katie said, jumping to her feet.
I waved her back and settled in the recliner near the entryway. “I’m good.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually be down.”
“I need a dis—” distraction.... I couldn’t say that word. For the last month, Silver had been my distraction—or Kirk’s distraction. Separating myself from that identity and leaving him for dead was harder than I thought. “I need something else to think about.”
“You can put on a movie. Evan just messaged me and they’ll be back soon.”
I reached for the nearby remote as Jack stirred across the room. He rolled over, and his eyes opened wide as soon as he saw me. After blinking a few times, he jumped from the cot and ran over to join his mother on the couch. Snuggling up between her and the back of the couch and watching me.
“Don’t take offense, he’s like this with most people,” Katie said, stretching to grab some yellow toy off the floor and handing it to him. “Give him a day or two, and I’m sure he’ll yack your ear off.”
Truth be told, I could live without him yacking my ear off. Cute as he could be, I was just fine with him keeping his distance. I smiled because I didn’t have any other response.
“I know I said I wouldn’t,” Katie whispered.
“You have a question.” My voice was dry and emotionless. I knew it was unavoidable. I hated the questions, the prying, and most of all the awkward answers, but sometimes they felt like my only way of connecting with the real world. “Go for it.”
“If they offered you witness protection would you take it?”
“No,” I licked my lips. “I gave up a year. Like h—” I looked at Jack and his wide brown eyes and reminded myself to choose my words carefully. “I’m not giving up my entire life. Besides, it’s mainly for witnesses who are in danger of getting knocked off before they testify. I’m not really in either boat right now. No one knew my real identity and most of them didn’t even know for sure the mole was me. The ones who found out are dead.” Mostly. In a way, I already had a new identity—one the people who might be after me wouldn’t know. I had all the papers to fully assume Kirk’s identity going into the operation, so my deal worked in reverse. Except I was still living in the same town.
“Trent mentioned a girl.”
“He’s keeping an eye on her. She could get called as a witness, but I doubt the Feds will need her. I stashed away enough evidence before I ‘died’ to ensure they’d have everything they needed to make it stick. The teams recovered even more during the raid.” We’d wiped one “retreat” off the map, any stragglers who might be left were likely scrambling to find a new opportunity or getting out of town and hooking up with one of the other facilities.
Milo had been the head of a network of sex retreats, and quite a few, I heard, which trafficked more than sex on a regular basis. Various law enforcement groups had been working for years to bring him down in hopes th
at it would land a blow to the network and weaken the system enough to dismantle the entire operation. The biggest hitch in that plan was Milo’s tendency to stay hidden—only the upper management of each facility had contact with him, and even they were nearly impossible to catch. Beyond impossible to turn. Everyone in Milo’s service would take a bullet over even hinting at something that would jeopardize the operation.
Apparently when you ply people with all the sex, money, and power they could ever want, they tend to be quite loyal.
They never expected a cop to work his way through their ranks. I’m not sure what it said about my character that I could play a criminal well enough to convince those bastards, but I’d done it. I’d spent nearly a year in their ranks, gathering everything we needed and waiting for Milo to finally show his face at an opportune time.
When he finally did, the SWAT team shot him on the roof trying to grab a ride on the private chopper he’d probably come in on. Ross got his justice, too, but apparently Miles was responsible for that bullet. I’d already been laid out unconscious from blood loss.
I fiddled with the remote against my leg, debating on whether or not I even wanted the mindless noise it could provide. I wanted to enjoy the quiet—for the first time in months I didn’t have to worry about who was doing what, whether or not I’d make it through the day without being killed, or how long I had until my next check-in was due.
And most of all, I didn’t have dozens of girls to worry about—even though I still worried about them. The effects of the raid—most of them had been in one retreat or another for so long, they probably didn’t have much of a support system anywhere. If any at all. And I wasn’t even sure how they’d all react to being out of the Retreat.
Alley was one of my biggest worries. She was a sweet girl, who’d won Miles’ heart long ago. She was probably the most significant reason he cared so much about the other girls. Not that Miles didn’t have a caring heart underneath all the muscles, scars, and tattoos.
I’d found it easy to work for him because of that—even though most of the things I had to do were still illegal and sometimes degrading and unspeakable. If not for Miles’ redeeming side, I probably would have lost my mind long ago. He did what he had to in order to survive. Maybe he hadn’t made the greatest choices along the way, but I still felt obligated to him, especially since he’d saved my life in the end.
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