Kyle smacked me on the head. “Shit, man. I don’t see why I can’t get laid with one of the other whores first and then we can save your girlfriend. I’ll be quick.”
I hit him back. “Yeah, your ex mentioned your little problem. But sorry, not going to risk it. And she’s not my girlfriend.”
Vic shook his head, disgusted with us both. Kyle and I partied with the best of them, but poor Vic still hadn’t learned his lesson after his ex-wife had cheated on him. He harbored some fucked-up fantasy that he’d find a girl to be faithful to him when he was away; some delusion that he might be able to have a marriage, which defied the Navy SEALs infamous eighty percent divorce rate. Optimistic bastard.
“Whatever you say, man.” Vic laughed. “I know you. You’ve been obsessed with her since you met her. She’s all you’ve talked about for the past two weeks. Once you save her, she’ll worship you. You two will end up getting married. Mark my words. And she’s from San Diego—how convenient. Plus, you said yourself, she gave great head. Sounds like a match made in Hell Week if you ask me.”
“Fuck you, Vic. I’m not saving her because I love her. I don’t even know her. I’m saving her because it’s the right thing to do.” But Vic’s words resonated with me. Annie was all I thought about. Though I hadn’t had more than a cheap sexual encounter and an awkward conversation with her, over the past weeks I’d learned everything I could about her. I’d watched childhood videos of her and her family from their website, seen interviews of her parents crying and begging for her safe return. She’d wanted to be a teacher and had volunteered with a dog rescue. And, though at first I saw her as just another woman who could satisfy me, now I couldn’t wait to see her again. Even if it would be to watch her walk away in the end.
I could never make any woman happy. Especially not one who had been through so much and seen men at their worst. I doubted Annie would ever be able to trust a man again.
I loved women. All women. My mom taught me never to disrespect a woman. I’d given my heart to one once—I’d been faithful to her, encouraged her dreams, and supported her. Once, when I’d been deployed for six months, I arranged to have flowers delivered weekly to her house, with notes I’d written ahead of time and had given to the florist. And my ex gutted me. All the times I was stuck in some hole in Afghanistan, dreaming about her, she was screwing around on me. I didn’t need that complication; my job was stressful enough. I needed my home life to be peaceful, because my line of work was anything but. The only men in the Teams who had successful marriages were married to women who were completely strong, honest, and loyal. Faithful women, who were both mothers and fathers to their children when their husbands were away. If I ever found a woman like that, I’d marry her in a heartbeat. It was impossible to build that type of relationship when I was never home. Since I’d turned eighteen, I’d spent most of the past seven years deployed or out training. In all that time, with the exception of BUD/S, I’d spent a grand total of eight months in San Diego, broken into two or three-week intervals. So I chose to be single until I retired, yet I was still a man and had my needs. It didn’t help that I was plagued by the memory of Annie’s mouth on my cock and her hands gripping my thighs as I came.
I knew despite my best efforts, I’d worry about what would happen to Annie after I dropped her off at the embassy. I hoped she could heal and recover. But it wasn’t my problem. She wasn’t my problem. I would do my job and get her back to safety and then I had to get the fuck out of there. I’d seen what the media did to rediscovered treasures—they stalked them like celebrities. I could never be part of that media circus, not with my job, my life.
I’d fulfill my duty to her and keep my promise. But after that, she was on her own. There was no other way. She had a family and a boyfriend waiting for her anyway. I could never fit into her life and she could never be a part of mine. She’d have to forget she ever met me, just like I hoped she would forget all the torture she endured. And I could go back to living my life the way I liked to.
Alone.
9
Star
THE DOOR OPENED TO MY dimly lit cell. Had Patrick returned?
“Get up, princessa.”
Jose stormed in.
Fuck.
“Get dressed, we’re leaving.”
My palms became moist and it wasn’t because I was coming down. Had he somehow heard me tell Patrick my name? Years of building trust all thrown away in a careless moment.
“Why? Where are we going?”
Jose smirked, I recognized that look.
He was trading me.
Like Eva last month. One day, he came in the middle of the night and took her. And we never saw her again.
“Just put on your nice clothes. And your makeup. We leave in ten.”
“But what about my—”
“No more questions. It is taken care of.”
No. I couldn’t leave! Patrick could still come back for me. He was my only hope. The only way I could foresee reclaiming my life.
“Please, Jose.” I batted my eyelashes. I would do what I had to. Sliding my hand up his thigh, I leaned into him.
He pushed my hand away. “Get ready.”
I bit my lip. I never left the brothel. The pain of facing the outside world, seeing people who were enjoying their lives, even just a glimpse of my past, was more than I could handle.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you.”
But how could he? For the past five years, I’d been invisible. I was sure my father had hired private investigators to look for me. And what about the FBI? How could this SEAL locate me on his own if no one had been able to before?
My dress, a skin tight, tacky fuchsia number, the type of outfit I would’ve made fun of back at home, was now the highlight of my wardrobe. Black, plastic heels completed my ensemble. One pump of body spray and I was ready to go.
Would my new pimp torture me? I survived this horror too many times to count. At least here, I knew the routine. I had earned Jose’s trust. He didn’t rape me anymore and I had seniority amongst the girls. Who knew what hell waited for me somewhere else.
Jose arrived back at my door, wearing his crisp, white suit, a few of the other girls crowded around him. He only dressed up when he did a trade. “We go.”
“We’re all leaving?”
“Yes, we’re moving to new house.”
He let me take my purse, even though there wasn’t much in there. Condom, gum, a hair clip, some lube. I grabbed my smack—I couldn’t live without it. I shuffled my feet across the concrete floor and followed him and the others outside.
The purple sunset was breathtaking. I remembered seeing this sunset the last night before I was taken. I was a spoiled bitch back then. Chris wanted a romantic vacation, but I wanted to let loose. Partying with the dancer in the club the night before I’d been taken was my right. No one could control me. Renzo later told me watching me dance on stage with the band made him determined to make me his. What a naïve fool I had been.
Jose shoved us into a van. I stared out the window, holding back sobs.
The driver started the engine, and I burst into tears.
“Hey honey, it’s okay. We’ll be fine,” Sveta offered.
But she didn’t know why I was crying. I’d told no one about Patrick. I’d done everything he’d asked of me, not aroused suspicion.
The van sped away, flashes of neon buildings whizzed by my eyes like a movie. I held my necklace. I didn’t believe he would find me. I didn’t believe in anything anymore. As the brothel disappeared in the distance, any hope I’d had of being rescued vanished with it.
10
Patrick
MAN, I WAS FUCKING TIRED. Thirteen hours by plane, including a redeye and a layover in Miami, and our airplane finally touched down at the Queen Beatrix airport, Aruba at sunrise. Had this been Annie’s last sight before she had been taken? Her desire to photograph its beauty had cost Annie her freedom. Today, I would liberate her. I couldn’t wait to se
e the look on her face once I’d saved her, hold her, and tell her she was free. All the training I’d gone through in my life had prepared me for this mission. The excitement, the adrenaline, and the high of completing a mission were indescribable. But liberating Annie would be the biggest reward of all.
Vic, Kyle, and I left the airport and headed to the private dock to stow our gear on our yacht rental.
We made our way through the maze of scuba tours, glass bottom boats, and moonlit cruises. A middle-aged bearded guy with a ponytail and a beer belly met us at the dock, dangling the keys.
“You must be Dave.” Kyle shook his hand, and Vic and I followed suit.
“Nice to meet you. The Cleito is all cleaned up and ready for you.”
I glanced at Vic and Kyle. The Cleito. In Plato’s myth of Atlantis, Cleito bore Poseidon ten sons. An obscure Navy SEAL trident reference, but we all understood the significance of the name instantly.
“And I secured you the weapons you wanted.”
“We appreciate it.” We couldn’t bring our own weapons and check them on a commercial airplane.
Dave handed me the keys and narrowed his eyes toward me. “So, what are your plans? I know some great scuba spots.”
I placed the keys in my pocket. “Thanks, man. Just wanted the guns in case we encounter any pirates. We’re just going to relax, go fishing, and snorkel.”
Dave glanced at our sea bags, which concealed our night-ops equipment. He was no dummy, a former old school Frogman. He probably sensed we were planning something other than checking out the local tropical fish. “Well, I’m happy to show you around. Anything you need.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“We will.” I eyed Kyle, who nodded toward me. We could trust this man. Any BUD/S class, any trident. He was one of us. Basically fucking family.
“Well, let me give you a tour.” He led us on the boat. It was no luxury yacht by any means, but it would suit our needs well. Downstairs there was a small galley, upstairs there were two cabins—one with two narrow bunks and one with a queen, a head, and a tiny living area. And a small area to relax up on the top deck. I gave Kyle the keys and he fiddled around with the controls.
We spent the rest of the day stocking up the yacht with food, drinks, and supplies. I’d bought Annie clothes, shoes, toiletries, magazines, books, and a small duffle bag so she wouldn’t have to go to the embassy empty handed. Wasn’t sure what she was into, but I figured anything, which could keep her mind off drugs and what she’d been through would be a good bet. I hadn’t a clue how long she’d be kept at the embassy, so I wanted to take care of her, even if I couldn’t be there.
Hours later, the sun had finally set. We cleaned, loaded, and concealed our weapons.
We’d gone over the layout from the diagram I’d sketched when I returned from the brothel that night. We weren’t too worried about smuggling her out. The plan was to head over to the brothel at night, posing as clients. Once I was inside the room with Annie, Kyle and Vic would take down the pimp until I smuggled her out of there. We weren’t going to use force unless necessary.
After we rescued her, we were going to take her to the embassy. The full plan should take us three days tops.
I was ready to give Annie her life back.
Kyle stood up. “Let’s do this!”
Operation Rumpelstiltskin was ready to go down.
We’d all dressed casually. I had no fear—this was more like a training exercise than a mission.
Nothing could go wrong.
We walked through the back alleys of Aruba. A rush pulsed through my body. In less than an hour, Annie’s nightmare would be over and a whole new world would begin.
Five blocks away—the cool night breeze blew across my face. I was so close to Annie, I could taste her. Knowing we were breathing the same air, and we were minutes away from seeing each other again sent tingles through my body.
Four blocks away—every step brought me closer to her. The town was unusually quiet; I could almost hear my heart beat in my chest.
Three blocks away—Kyle turned and nodded toward me. A silent confirmation that we would be successful. He had no doubts of our abilities, our plan.
Two blocks away—my palms sweaty. Something seemed off. Usually by the time I reached this street, I could already see her pimp scouting for johns. But the streets were hauntingly empty.
One block away—my chest clenched. A distant smell of smoke wafted through my nostrils. My breathing became labored.
When at last we turned onto the street, my jaw tightened. The brothel was nowhere in sight—instead, ashes were strewn across the ground, burnt mattresses collapsed in the street, a lone teddy bear tattered in the rubble.
It was gone—she was gone.
I’d failed her.
Vic put his arm around my shoulder. “You sure this is the place?”
“Positive.”
Kyle sifted through the embers, eyes focused. “I’m sure she’s alive and they just moved her. Buildings down in these parts have a way of mysteriously catching on fire.”
Tears rimmed my eyelids and I could feel the pulse in my throat. I scooped up the teddy bear from the ground, remembering that it looked like the one I’d seen in Annie’s room the first night I met her.
A man walked by wearing a watch which looked like the one I’d given the pimp.
I ran and shoved him against the next building. “Where did you get that fucking watch?”
He quivered. My hands clasped his throat and he let out a croak.
“Where is she, you motherfucker? Where did you take her? Tell me before I fucking snap your neck!”
His hands flailed in the air. “I don’t know—I don’t know what you are talking about. A man sold me this watch.”
He quivered, and once I got a closer look, I realized it wasn’t my watch.
Vic and Kyle dashed after me, pulling me off the man.
I stood back. “Get the fuck out of here.” He scurried down the street.
Vic stood in my personal space and made strong eye contact. “Pat, we’ll find her.”
I backed away from them, and started back into town.
If she were still alive, I would find her. Annie had survived this long. I prayed she wouldn’t give up, because I would scour every corner of this Earth until I found her. Nothing would stop me. Not even my job—I’d fucking take extra leave from my Team.
11
Patrick
WE SAT AROUND IN THE yacht and hatched a plan over beer and pizza. I had less than four weeks to find her. Four weeks until our leave was over and we deployed to the Middle East for six months. By then she would be lost forever. And so would I. There was no more room for errors.
Kyle always tried to take charge. “It’s easy. Let’s go and ask around town until someone talks. Or we can ask Dave for help. He knows this area.”
“It’s not that easy.” I took a swig of my beer and studied the breaking waves. “I don’t want to involve Dave unless we have to. He’s a local. We can’t raise suspicion. They could kill her if the wrong person found out.”
Vic nodded in agreement. “We contact the FBI, go through the channels. That’s the best way.”
Kyle and I exchanged a glance. I’d already informed Vic that telling the FBI wasn’t an option. Especially now—I’d wasted enough time.
“I fucked up. I should’ve told you guys the night I met her. We could’ve gotten her the next night when I went back. Now it’ll be on my shoulders if she ODs or winds up murdered in a ditch.”
Kyle placed a reassuring hand on my back. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. We had to get back on the ship that night. And we didn’t have access to our weapons. What the fuck could we have done? Save her and then drop her off somewhere? And don’t be such a fucking pussy. She didn’t get moved because you came back. They move these girls all the fucking time.”
I knew that, she’d even told me that. But I hadn’t listened. Too cocky
, and now I didn’t have a fucking clue where she was.
I stood up. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t have to explain myself. Vic and Kyle pounded back their beers, polished off their pizza, and we left.
We weaved in and out of the underbelly of Aruba. Must’ve hit up a dozen more brothels. It was so fucking depressing. I wanted to get hammered so I didn’t have to deal with the guilt I felt for hiring Annie. How could I have ignored her suffering? Even if she hadn’t been trafficked, I realized now that visiting any of these brothels was so wrong. My mom would be disgusted with me. Some of the prostitutes couldn’t have been older than fourteen. The older ones reeked of desperation. Dead eyes, bruised bodies, drugged minds.
There was no sign of Annie.
At all of these brothels, I never recognized any of the other girls who’d worked with Annie. I knew they couldn’t have all just vanished into the night. They had to be somewhere.
At the next brothel, Kyle disappeared into one of the rooms with a girl. He said he was going to ‘take one for the team’ so we didn’t arouse suspicions.
When he emerged from the room, he had a big smile on his face.
“Was she that good?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t know. I couldn’t bear to fuck her, in case she was another American sex slave. Just gave me a hand job. Not half bad but I do a better job myself. Anyway, I told her I had fucked this amazing whore at the brothel that had burnt down. She said she’d heard a bunch of girls were just moved to Curaçao.” He smirked. “Told you I’d take one for the Team.”
I pressed my palms downward on my pants; this time I didn’t want to be overly confident. The cool Caribbean breeze calmed my mind. Annie had mentioned she’d been transferred to Curaçao once. Made sense that she might be back there now.
BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Page 20