by LK Shaw
It took me longer to bring my brain and body up to speed.
Eventually, they both caught up and my breathing slowed to a normal pace. My stomach growled reminding me of my hunger. I took a small bite of the protein bar and chased it with the water. Loud voices, one a female’s, could be heard out in the hall. I looked questioningly at Webber. He smiled and nodded as though all was well. The noise quieted out in the hall and a few moments later Connor re-entered the room.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked, concern radiating from him.
“I’m fine now.”
He nodded before continuing, gentler this time. “Due to your connection to Josie, you’re one of us. We’ll do everything we can to make sure Underwood is punished. We’re also working with the FBI on locating and prosecuting the man we believe is the head of the trafficking ring. We need your help though. Are you willing to testify against Mr. Underwood regarding his criminal activities as well as anything you might remember about the events leading up to your captivity? And as painful as it may be, we also need you to recall anything you are able to during your time in that cell. Names. Faces. Information regarding their operation they may have let slip in your presence.”
Hysterical laughter threatened to explode from me. All I wanted to do was forget the last two months and here these people, these strangers, were asking me to remember? To recall the faces of the men, one man in particular, who took delight in breaking me? To relive every hellish moment I spent in that cell, praying for it all to end? Hadn’t I been tortured enough? Apparently not.
They also wanted me as a witness against Kieran’s crimes. After all I’d been through, I didn’t know if I was ready for that, for any of this. I knew I hated him; had for years. Yet, there was still that part of me that was terrified of him. Of what he’d do to me if I ever spoke out against him. I refused to acknowledge my terror of the Russian. My gaze went back and forth between the two men. Did I dare trust them to keep me safe? My faith in people, men especially, wasn’t strong. I’d been let down so many times in my life by people I thought I could trust.
Then, against my will, I thought of him. His voice, with its Russian accent, taunting me about about how he’d purchased me like a piece of meat from Kieran. About how I was his.
I remembered, no matter how much I tried to push it out of my head, being powerless. I never wanted to feel that way again. If putting these men away gave me even an ounce of power back, I’d do it.
No woman… no person, should ever be subjected to what I’d gone through. Renewed hatred for him burned through my veins. It sizzled inside my gut and I knew what needed to be done. I had no illusions that it would be easy. My mind wasn’t screwed on tight right now. I knew that; recognized it. Fear permeated every pore in my body. Fear my time spent being broken had cultivated. But if I was ever going to survive, I had to do it.
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” I was resolute in my decision.
By the faint smiles on their faces, both men were pleased with my answer.
Connor spoke again. “Josie worked her ass off to find you and to put together a case against Underwood. She’s desperate to meet you. I wasn’t sure if you were ready or not so I made her stay in her office. Are you up to seeing her?”
So, from what Connor’d said, this Josie was my sister. A sister I never even knew I had. As unfair as it was, I couldn’t help the bitterness that spread through me. If Josie was as good with computers as Connor had alluded to, why hadn’t she tracked me down sooner? Maybe this —brokenness— wouldn’t have happened to me. No, I couldn’t do it. Not right now. Hateful thoughts ran through my head. Thoughts I had no control over.
“No, I don’t want to see her.”
Connor nodded as though expecting my answer. “I’ll let her know. She won’t be happy, but she’ll respect your decision. If you change your mind, let me know. Now, I know you’re exhausted and starving. I’m not going to keep you here any longer. Webber says you don’t have anywhere to go. Is that true?”
Ashamed, I could only nod, refusing to make eye contact.
“Webber’s going to take you to a safe house. One we use to keep people hidden. No one else stays there so you won’t be bothered by anyone. You’ll have a crew of men you’ll never see securing the house. No one will disturb you, except you’ll get an occasional visit from Webber, me, or my wife, Bridget. She’ll bring you groceries and some new clothes in the morning. You’ll find a few t-shirts and sweatpants in the dresser. There’s also enough food in the house to last you until then. In the next week, you’ll be meeting the prosecuting attorney in the case. He’s a friend so you don’t have to worry about him. Now, do you have any questions?”
“No.” There wasn’t much more to say at the moment. I was only glad they didn’t ask me about the last few months yet. About my captor. My destroyer.
Connor made his way to the door, but before he opened it, he turned slightly to peer at me over his shoulder. “They won’t get away with what they did to you. Whether it be in a court of law or not, I swear to you, neither of them will get away with it.”
Without waiting for a response, he left the room, his words echoing inside my head.
“Are you ready to go?” Webber’s voice shook me out of my frozen state.
“I’m ready.” No more untrue words had ever been spoken. I wasn’t ready for any of this. Regardless of what I’d agreed to, I didn’t think I’d ever be ready.
Donovan
Eden. My second home. Sitting at the bar, the bass of the music sending vibrations coursing along my arms, I observed my surroundings as I took a slow drink from my longneck. Before her, I took pleasure in the small nuances between a Dom and his, or her, submissive. The non-verbal communication. A tilt of the head, a raised brow, the intense stare, a soft gasp, a slight flick of a tongue against lips. Kneeling with head bowed. Everything that signaled arousal. Trust. Signs I made sure I always looked for in my subs, even though they were all temporary. Well, they had all been temporary, until Shannon.
Shannon had been the perfect submissive. All the signs were there. Until they weren’t. Refusing to dwell on what used to be, my eyes scanned the room, my heart no longer into watching all the happy couples playing together. I picked up my beer and headed toward the small office at the end of the half-hidden hall that disappeared behind the bar. It was a restricted area for employees only. As part-owner of Eden, I traversed the hall several times a night.
I used to spend most of my nights out in the public playroom, scening with whatever sub struck my fancy that evening. Now, I couldn’t be bothered. I’d lost interest in developing that deep seeded trust needed between a Dom and his submissive. It was like a switch had been flipped inside me. I hated it, because being a Dominant was in my nature. It wasn’t just a role I played. It was who I was. Day by day I felt a small part of myself slipping further away, and I had no idea how to get it back.
Now, though, most of my evenings were spent in my office. I’d receive verbal reports from the dungeon monitors, or DMs, that worked for Eden. Plus, we had a high tech surveillance system with cameras throughout the club. The only privacy the members had were in the private rooms at the back of the club. We encouraged new members to play in the public room until they built a relationship, but they didn’t always want to be seen. Our main priority here was to make sure that every member played by the rules. Safe, sane, and consensual. Eden was highly exclusive and our members were all vetted before being allowed membership. But on occasion, we had a random guy who thought he was a Dom. In reality, he got off on bossing women around and took things too far. He didn’t abide by the submissive’s safeword.
The DMs were always quick to react and forcibly removed any offender from the club. Their membership was revoked and their name added to a special database that Connor, a fellow Dom and Eden investor, kept at his security company. He shared the database with other BDSM clubs so they could keep their members safe as well.
As I sat in silence behind my desk, ignoring the security footage on the wall next to me, a bone-deep weariness threatened to suffocate me. Emotionally, I was exhausted, and I didn’t know how much more I could take before I broke. I tried to focus on my career at the District Attorney’s office, but even that ceased to give me the satisfaction it used to. I needed something to give me a new purpose, but whatever that thing was, it remained elusive. My friends told me I was hiding back here, but I ignored the barbs.
The room abruptly filled with the sounds of the music from the playroom as the door opened, before silence again fell when it closed behind the man who’d entered. I tried holding back the sigh when I saw who’d intruded on my privacy, but it didn’t work. Broad-shouldered and narrow waisted, Marcus Allen’s presence invaded the room. His leathers hugged his lower body in a way I knew his wife appreciated. He was still in his prime, despite the flecks of gray in his hair. In the twenty-plus years I’d known Marcus, I’d never seem him looking happier. Well, for the most part. He didn’t appear to be too ecstatic at the moment.
God, I didn’t need another lecture right now. I knew Marcus and Connor meant well, but they just didn’t understand that every time they tried to cheer me up, it only made things worse. Both men were happily taken; Marcus by a sexy, voluptuous woman named Penny, whom, for one night, I’d known quite intimately and Connor by a feisty, bratty sub named Bridget.
How he survived with Bridget as his collared sub I had no idea. I’d want to spend all my time spanking the sass out of her. I got along well enough with Bridget outside of Eden, but in the club, not so much. I didn’t take well to brats. Bridget, however, adored Connor and he, in turn, worshipped the ground she walked on. It was almost nauseating, to be honest.
I was happy for them, even if I’d sworn off love. It made you weak. I refused to acknowledge anything different. Needing some peace and quiet again, I wanted to quickly figure out what Marcus wanted so he could be on his way.
“What is it now?” Even I heard the frustration in my tone.
“Normally, I’d bust your balls about sulking back here, but this is more important.” It was then I noticed the tension in Marcus’ body.
He was always a little intense, but this emotion was different.
Bigger.
I sat to attention, my entire body now on alert.
“What’s going on?”
“Connor needs your expertise. Well, really, his cop friend, Webber, needs it.”
“Explain.”
If Connor and the cops were involved, it was big. For him to bring in Webber, or vice versa, then Marcus wasn’t exaggerating its importance. I knew the kinds of cases Connor took on.
“You know that Josie’s been searching for her half-sister for months, right?” Without waiting for a response, Marcus continued. “Well, last week she found her. Or rather, she discovered her location. Webber was the one who actually found her. God, Donovan, she was naked on the floor of an underground cell. Webber is still shaken by the condition he found the woman in. I have a feeling some bad shit happened to her. Shit neither of us could even fathom.”
Marcus stopped his recitation. I could tell his mind was imagining the “bad shit”. A somberness settled in the air.
“Anyway, based on her statement, her boyfriend drugged her. She woke in a living nightmare. Connor and Josie have spent the last two months finding out everything they could on the boyfriend, who happens to be a big-time drug dealer. They dug up a shit ton of charges on him. They even discovered a connection to the Russians. Well, one Russian in particular that some of Connor’s FBI friends have on their radar. A man well known for dabbling in human trafficking. They can’t find any proof the boyfriend was the one who gave her to the Russians beyond her statement, at least not yet. But she witnessed enough of his criminal activity while they lived together that her testimony would be vital to the prosecuting attorney. Over the last week, Webber has been working on getting a warrant for his arrest. He’s run into a few roadblocks.”
Marcus’ stare bore into me, sending an unspoken, and unneeded, plea. I knew what he wanted.
“You need my help in getting the warrant, and you want me to take the case?” Honestly, it was the type of case I lived for. Any man who would drug and give up his girlfriend to be raped repeatedly, because, let’s be honest, that’s the most likely scenario considering the condition she’d been found in, deserved to be strung up by his balls. I couldn’t stomach a weak mother fucker who felt powerful by abusing a woman. If I could put this guy away for life, then it would be my pleasure to take on the case.
“You and I both know you’re one of the best attorneys in town. The FBI wants this Russian. I think you’re the best bet they have to getting him.”
Leave it to Marcus to try and stroke my ego, even if it didn’t need stroking. “Let me talk to Connor. I need to see all the charges and what I think we can use for leverage against this guy. Do you have a name?”
“No, Connor didn’t share that with me. We just talked about how you needed to take this case to get your head back in the game. Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’ve changed over the last year. I don’t know what happened, and I haven’t wanted to push it, but you’ve been different for a long time now, Donovan.”
Son of a bitch. I should have known I wouldn’t be so lucky as to get off that easy. They needed to leave shit alone.
“I don’t know—”
Marcus held up his hand to stop my words. “You don’t have to talk about what’s been going on, but don’t lie to me either. We’ve been friends a long time. Since college. I know you almost as well as I know myself. You’re different. Morose. Unhappy. I’m not going to bug you about it, but find someone to talk to. That’s all I’m going to say on it. Now, I’m going to go find my gorgeous wife and flog the hell out of her. Enjoy your night, Donovan.”
Marcus disappeared out the door, leaving me to think about everything he’d just said. About the case. About something changing.
He didn’t need to tell me what I already knew.
I was well aware I was a different man than I used to be.
Betrayal did that to a person.
Phebe
Cold. I was always so fucking cold. I took three showers a day to try and get warm. I ignored the voice inside that said I was taking them to wash away the uncleanliness.
The filth.
The touches.
Stop it, Phebe. It’s over. You’re safe now.
That was something else I did every day, although it was definitely more than three times. I constantly reminded myself that I wasn’t back there anymore. With him. In that cell. That I was safe. Even if safe was a relative word.
I mean, what does safe truly mean anyway? My body might currently be protected, but there was no doubt my mind was far from fucking safe. From secure. Tendrils of thought were moments away from snapping, but I held on for dear life. I pushed that shit back to the deepest recesses of my brain. Slammed the compartment door closed and locked that bitch up tight.
Grass tickled my feet as I strolled barefoot through the backyard of the house I was staying at, the sensation reminding me of a happier time. A time of innocence. A self-deprecating laugh bubbled out of me at the thought. There was nothing innocent about me. Not any longer. I couldn’t even remember a time that I wasn’t tainted.
Ignoring that thought, I continued my walk, the birds singing in the trees around me, the faint sound of a dog barking a few houses over, the sunlight peeking through the tree branches to produce random patterns of light on the ground.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I shivered despite the heat and the layers of clothing I wore, my toes tracing one of the patterns. It could be a scorching summer day and even wearing a winter coat and sweatpants, I still wouldn’t be warm. I was doomed to be perpetually cold. And even though the ground was damp, never again would I take for granted the feel of grass under my feet, a beautiful flower, or the sunshine above me.
You’re safe.
Would I ever stop jerking at the slightest noise?
I knew it was ridiculous, but I ignored the soft sound of footfalls coming closer to me. Maybe if I didn’t acknowledge her, she’d go away. Wishful thinking, because, yes, I knew who it was. I’d excelled at quickly identifying footfalls. I’d memorized each one during my captivity, so I always recognized who was coming for me.
At the beginning of my relationship with Kieran, I’d been a social butterfly. I’d had tons of friends, even if they weren’t always the right kind. Although, thinking on it, maybe they weren’t really friends after all. Regardless, I’d loved being around people. Going to the clubs and having a good time. Now, the thought of being in a room full of people gave me chills. I didn’t want people touching me or looking too closely at me. I shivered, again, despite the heat.
“Hey there.” The woman’s voice came from a close enough distance to make me a little nervous, although I could tell she tried not to startle me. It was sad, really, that a person couldn’t even stand five feet from me without making me twitchy. I hated this feeling and all the people who caused it. Knowing it was futile to ignore her, I slowly turned toward the interloper.
A beautiful red-head named Bridget stood there looking stunning in a vintage blue and white halter rockabilly dress that hugged her in all the right places. Bright red Mary Jane high heels complemented the outfit. I almost envied her style and confidence. Every time I saw her, it reminded me of all the nice things I used to have, which only made me bitter and liking her more difficult. If it weren’t so sad, it would be comical to see how far I’d fallen.
Her chocolate brown eyes were filled with pity, even though she tried to hide it. She’d been stopping by every other day since I got here. In fact, I saw her more than Connor or Webber. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not. Connor had been right though. Other than the protective detail I never saw, but knew stayed close by, I was here alone. With my thoughts. My nightmares. Which was both a blessing and a curse.