by LK Shaw
“Part of what The Haven does is help women establish new identities. It’s not something they advertise since it’s probably not entirely legal. I never asked. I just know that during my volunteer work there, I confessed to Nancy that I was trying to get out once I had the means to do it. She told me to let her know when I was ready and she’d get things started on her end. That was part of the program I never asked about. I didn’t want to know too many details.”
“So, this women’s shelter has their own in-house witness protection program where they get the women new identities and send them off to a new life with whatever life skill they’ve learned?”
“Basically.” It was the simplest explanation.
“I’m actually pretty impressed. On occasion I work with another local women’s shelter, but now I’m thinking I need to speak with the administrators of The Haven. I do quite a bit of pro-bono work. I’d be happy to see if they might need my services.”
I studied this man across from me. He didn’t seem real. Something must be wrong with him, because no one was this perfect. He treated me like a normal person and not a criminal and now he was offering to help, for free even, The Haven. I felt like I was living in an alternate universe.
Donovan sobered. “You had the means, why hadn’t you left yet? How did you end up where you did?”
“Kieran discovered my plan. I’m not sure how. I swear I kept everything hidden, including my hatred, which was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I came home from The Haven one night to a darkened house. I’d just reached the living room when a single light was flipped on to show Kieran sitting in his favorite chair. When I asked him why he’d been sitting in the dark he was silent. Something in his face terrified me.”
A shudder had my hair standing on end as I recalled the expression on Kieran’s face. It matched the evil in his soul.
“I thought about running, but it was useless. I wasn’t going to make it far before he’d drag me back kicking and screaming. I figured it would be less painful if I didn’t fight. He rose from the chair and before I could even blink he backhanded me across the face. He began screaming at me about how I was a traitor. How he’d done everything for me and this was how I repaid him, by leaving. About how I was now less than worthless to him; I was nothing. He reminded me that I’d regret trying to ever leave him again. He pulled out a needle from his jacket pocket. I knew then and there he was going to kill me. He grabbed my hair, fisting it in his palm, and pulled my head to the side before ramming the needle into the side of my neck. When I came to, I was in that cell.”
I wrapped my arms around myself at the cold chill that swept over me. I’d lived in that hell hole for two long months. And while I might be free of my physical bonds, my mental bonds were still shackled inside that cell.
Compassion filled his eyes as he stared at me. “I’m sorry that happened, Phebe. I can’t imagine what you went through. Which is why I want you to talk to Madeline.”
Donovan held up his hand when I started to protest. “You’ve suffered tremendous trauma. Not only recently, but at various times in your life. You’ve been bottling that shit up for years, Phebe. It’s not healthy. Neither emotionally nor mentally. Especially if you’re blacking out from the memories. Go see her and just give her a chance. Please?”
“Fine,” I snapped, annoyed at his directive.
Donovan must have sensed I was reaching my breaking point, because he slipped his pad and pen back into his briefcase. “I think that’s enough for today. I don’t want to overwhelm you. We’ll start back up tomorrow at ten again. I want to delve deeper into Mr. Underwood’s clients and operation. I’ve also already made your first appointment with Madeline. You’re scheduled to see her Wednesday at two. Someone will be here to pick you up at 1:30 to drive you to her office. You and I won’t meet that day, but I’ll be back on Thursday morning to continue working on the case.”
Absently, I nodded. I didn’t want some shrink analyzing my childhood and all the other shit that happened throughout my life. There was nothing that could be done that would change it. Things happen for a reason. Why rehash them over again? No one wants to live through hell twice. The first time was bad enough.
“Get some rest tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.” Donovan rose from his seat, grabbed his briefcase, and stood for a moment without speaking. When I stared at him, he opened his mouth as though wanting to say something, but then snapped it shut. He turned without another word, leaving me alone in the living room. That was me. Always alone.
Him
“Noooo!” I roared out my fury. She was gone. My malen’kaya igrushka, my little toy, gone. I’d been told of a raid at the facility and that my men had been detained and all the women taken somewhere. I didn’t care about any of them though. I only cared about her. I’d spent the past months training her and just when she’d finally passed her last test, acknowledging me as her Korol’, her King, she was ripped from my grasp. It didn’t matter though, because I would find her. There was no place on this earth she could hide from me.
She was mine.
Maya karaleva.
My queen.
Donovan
At exactly 9:59 I pulled into the driveway of Connor’s safe house. I took a few extra seconds to scan my surroundings, to study the area for any type of threat. My time in the Marine Corps had trained me to pay attention to details that the average person might miss. The last time I missed something vital, half of my platoon had been killed. It was a lesson I had no desire to repeat. When I didn’t notice anything suspicious, I turned off the ignition and headed up to the house.
Bridget’s car was missing today so I rang the doorbell instead of just walking in. There was no reason to cause Phebe any more stress than necessary, and I’m sure me walking into her home, no matter how temporary, would put her on edge. An edge I needed her to stay off.
No matter how hard I’d tried, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Something about her called to me. I wasn’t sure if it was the pain I saw in her eyes whenever I looked at her or if it was the strength buried so deep even she forgot she possessed it. Regardless, she fascinated me.
Heavy footfalls came from behind the door, so I knew it wasn’t Phebe answering. The door opened to a tall light-skinned black man of average build. He was baldheaded with piercing hazel eyes. He was dressed in dark colored clothes with Army issued boots and a walkie talkie clipped to a pocket of his BDU pants. I recognized him from one of the few times I’d visited Blacklight Securities.
“Roger, right?”
“Yes, sir, come on in. I’ll let Ms. Lawson know all’s clear.”
Roger stepped aside for me to pass through the entryway and while he secured the house and went to notify Phebe I was here, I immediately made a beeline for the kitchen. My gut told me Phebe hadn’t eaten today. I quickly grabbed the ingredients to make an omelet and set to work. I also started cooking a few pieces of bacon. Soon, delicious smells filled the kitchen, but Phebe still hadn’t made an appearance. I’d give her until the time I needed to flip the eggs before I went in search of her.
I’d just finished folding over her omelet when she walked through the kitchen door. Her eyes were slightly blood shot and she looked like she hadn’t slept well. A familiar feeling welled up inside me. The Dominant urge to care for and protect my submissive. I ignored the thought. Phebe was not, nor would she ever be, my submissive.
Even knowing it was a dumb question, I asked it anyway. “How are you feeling this morning?”
She didn’t even glance at me when she gave me her rote response. “Fine, thanks.”
Even expecting that answer, I was still disappointed at the untruth. I knew I needed to let it go, though. “Have a seat, please. I made you some brunch.”
Phebe barely shook her head, although she did take a seat at the bar stool on the opposite side of the island as me. She still hadn’t visually acknowledged me. “I’m not hungry.”
I stood there silently, staring at her as
I waited for her to finally pay attention to me. The ticking of a clock seemed overly loud in the quiet room. After a handful of ticks. Phebe finally raised her head in my direction. Once our eyes met, I spoke softly, but firmly.
“You will eat something.”
“I said, I wasn’t—”
“I don’t care what you said,” I ground out using my Dom voice, effectively cutting off the rest of her words. “You are going to at least eat some of what I’ve spent time making you. You need to keep up your strength. You’re not hungry because you’re not eating and that’s what your body’s been used to the last couple months. If you start eating a little bit at a time, your appetite will return. So, I want you to eat. Please.”
During my speech, I’d set the plate in front of her with a glass of orange juice. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the counter, waiting.
Defiance shone from her eyes, but reluctantly, she picked up the fork and dug into the meal in front of her. She chewed slowly, taking small bites. I continued watching her, neither of us speaking to the other as she finished almost half the omelet and two pieces of bacon. She’d just taken a long sip of juice when she set her cup and fork down, pushing the plate away from her.
“I can’t eat any more.” She bit out, shooting me an angry glare.
I stood from my reclined position and stepped up to the island. As I reached for the plate, I praised her. “You did well, Phebe. I’m proud of you.”
Her head dipped a little in embarrassment before she spoke. “Thank you. I ate as much as I could before I started to feel sick.”
“That’s all I ask. I’m not going to make you eat the entirety of what I put in front of you, but you need to continue to eat something. If for nothing else than to keep up your energy. I need you to promise you’ll eat at least something when I’m not here.”
She nodded her assent before sitting back in her chair.
“I’m going to clean up in here. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the living room. I’ll be in shortly and we’ll get started.”
Phebe rose from her perch and hesitated a moment. She glanced quickly over at me and seemed to want to say something, but she turned on her heel and left me standing there staring at her retreating form. I’m not sure how long I stood there before I returned to my task. Once the kitchen was cleaned and the dishes put away, I joined her in the living room. She’d taken her usual seat on the couch, her legs pulled up underneath her, so I sat in the chair I’d occupied a couple days ago. She darted a glance in my direction and then turned back to stare out the window.
The next few weeks were going to be difficult. Phebe needed to be prepared for everything, because the defense attorney, a jackass by the name of Zeke Bronson, was going to be gunning for her. I reached for my briefcase and pulled out my legal pad.
“Alright, let’s get started.”
Phebe shifted and turned back toward me. Her entire posture was guarded and I could tell she was psyching herself up for this. She’d agreed to testify, but it was clearly something she wasn’t happy about doing. A spike of irrational jealousy hit me. Did she still care for Underwood? Even after everything he’d done to her? Was that the source of her reluctance or was it something else?
“After your rescue, you spoke to Detective Webber and Connor Black. They mentioned the connection between your father and Underwood. You’d seemed surprised by the discovery. So, you’re saying you had no idea that Underwood worked for your father, Charles Santiago?”
She shook her head. “No, I had no idea. I’d always assumed Kieran worked for himself. He never once mentioned my father.”
“You know your father was a racketeer. He would set up legitimate business to launder money through. Kieran was not only dealing drugs, but he was also helping to launder the money.”
Shell-shocked was the only way to describe Phebe’s expression.
“I— I knew about the drugs, but I had no idea about any of this other.”
“You do realize that the defense is going to use your relationship with your father to cast doubt on the fact that you weren’t fully aware of the connection between Santiago and Underwood.”
“I don’t care what he does. Or how he tries to spin it. I’ll take a lie detector test if I have to. I didn’t know.” Her voice rose emphatically, her expression pleading for me to believe her.
“I believe you.”
Her stiffened form relaxed and her expression eased into one of relief.
“Do you think my father was the reason Kieran pursued me? I mean, I’m not even sure why he would, but when I threatened to leave that first time, Kieran’s rage was so uncharacteristic. It was like he was more than desperate to make sure I stayed under his thumb. I never understood why.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have answers for you right now.” She seemed so forlorn that I couldn’t give her what she wanted.
She shrugged, but I knew the not knowing bothered her.
“The FBI is also highly interested in this case. It seems that in addition to your father, Underwood also had a connection with the Russians. Or rather, one in particular by the name of Vladimir Dragomirov, although from what the FBI has uncovered, he goes by the name Korol’. When Webber and the FBI raided the underground storage facility you were being held in, they apprehended several Russian men who are currently being detained and questioned by the FBI. None of them were this Korol’ they’ve been searching for, unfortunately. Several other women were also rescued besides you, but I’m not sure where they were taken.”
Had I not been observing her so closely, I may not have seen the blankness that entered her eyes. In fact, she completely shut down, became almost catatonic.
“Phebe?” I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her. No response. Nothing. Not even the flutter of an eyelash. She was completely unresponsive.
Fuck, she was scaring me.
“Phebe.” This time I spoke a little louder and moved to the couch next to her. Not knowing what else to do, I reached out and laid my hand on her thigh. With just the barest of touches, she erupted like a wildcat. An unearthly scream filled the air and she dove at me, throwing punches, clawing, and kicking. I tumbled backwards onto the couch as a fist connected with my jaw causing me to see stars for a second. Even still, I wasn’t concerned for myself, but damn it she was going to hurt herself.
A door slammed open and Roger came rushing in, gun drawn.
“Get out,” I roared, not even waiting to see if he followed my command. My entire focus was on Phebe as she seemed to be fighting for her life. She didn’t even see me, she was only reacting. As gently as I could, considering her adrenaline-infused strength, I grabbed her by both wrists and pulled her on down top of me, effectively pinning her arms arms between us. I wrapped first one arm, then the other tightly around her and slung my thigh over the back of her legs to stop the kicks, wrapping her in one giant hug. She continued thrashing, mewling noises endlessly coming from her. My heart ached at the tortured sounds.
“Shhhh. You’re okay Phebe. You’re safe, I promise.” I whispered over and over again, as I stroked her hair, praying I could get through to her. Endless minutes passed as her struggles grew weaker until eventually the ceased, her ragged sobs piercing my heart. When she didn’t immediately move, I continued holding her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms more than I should.
Before I was ready, she shifted and whispered so softly, her voice hoarse from her screams. “Please, let me go.”
Phebe
Donovan immediately complied with my entreaty as his leg fell from around me, and he raised his arms above his head in surrender. Not able to move fast enough, I lifted myself off him and headed out of the room, hugging my body tightly to ward off the chills and settle my stomach so I didn’t get sick. I could hear Donovan behind me, not at all surprised that he’d follow. My mind was torn on whether I wanted him to or not. Once he’d gotten through to me and I’d finally forced my body to relax, I couldn’t reconcile the fact th
at his repeated words actually rang true. That I was safe and that everything was going to be okay. It didn’t mean that my mind wasn’t completely fucked up right now at the mention of him.
I stepped outside and kicked off my shoes before heading out into the yard, my destination the koi pond. I stood there, trembling, staring down into the pond watching the colored fish swim around, enjoying their watery home. I could hear the hesitation in Donovan’s footsteps as he moved closer to me. Apparently, my silence was his cue to continue. I appreciated that he positioned himself on the other side of the pond and remained silent.
My voice cracked a little when I broke the silence. I cleared my throat before beginning again, my voice deadened and flat. “When I first woke after Kieran drugged me, I was naked and tied spread eagle to a bed. I screamed for help for what seemed like hours. My throat hurt and my voice grew hoarse, but no one came. I have no idea how long I laid there, waiting, wondering where I was. My stomach started cramping and my mouth was parched. Still, no one came. It could have only been hours or it could have been days. The drugs were still clouding my head and I must have dozed off. When I next woke, I wasn’t alone.”
My whole body shuttered and sweat gathered on my brow. A fog started to cloud my mind, but I pushed it away, taking deep breaths and counting to ten as I gathered myself. Forced myself to recount the beginning of the destruction of my soul. The day my life was damned.
Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room was a man. He was muscular with long wavy black hair that was brushed back and just touched his shoulders. His large, ridged forehead was punctuated by thick black eyebrows. His bulbous nose was crooked like it had been broken more than once. His thick lips were curled in the semblance of a smile. If not for his eyes, he could have been considered almost handsome. His black eyes, however, were filled with evil.