by Kitty Thomas
She shook herself back to reality. She didn’t have time to contemplate and daydream and pretend she wasn’t dying inside. He’d miraculously brought her to a room with a bathroom that could give her the smallest window of privacy. She never thought she’d get a second chance to attempt escape... but here it was... and this time, if they caught her, she wouldn’t go quietly, no matter what that meant for her.
Gabe wasn’t here to swoop in like an avenging angel and rescue her from her plight. It didn’t matter if she’d fallen asleep fantasizing about him doing just that every night since she’d been taken. These nighttime comfort stories didn’t suddenly make a safe protective Gabe a real living breathing thing.
Dmitri had been very clear about the honored guest and his intentions. Gabe was one of them. Just as bad, and from all whispering she’d overheard for the past week leading up to this, probably a lot worse. Standard blow jobs and sex with boring mostly old rich guys was one level of ick. But whatever Gabe was into went far beyond that. She’d only gotten the smallest taste of it that night in her apartment. But he’d stopped. He’d shown restraint with her then. Maybe he would again.
No, that wasn’t real. She had to remember that fantasy Gabe and real life Gabe were two very different people. And even if he wanted to help her, what could Gabe do? She couldn’t see any realistic way he could get her out of here. Maybe he could go to the cops but it would only implicate him as well.
If it weren’t for the fact that he’d told her himself he was a bad man, she might have held onto the ludicrous hope that maybe he was part of the sting operation Carmen kept praying for.
There was a light knock on the door. “Julie, are you all right in there?”
“J-just a minute,” she said.
Except for that awful thing he’d said in the ballroom when he’d picked her, he’d been very civil. What if he really could help her and wanted to? But what if he didn’t? She couldn’t imagine being subject to pain and humiliation at Gabe’s hands, not only for him to see her like this, but… to participate in her degradation. She just… couldn’t.
Carefully and as quietly as possible, she unzipped and removed her boots and crept to the window. She ran her fingers over the sill. Her fingertips dipped into the grooves where the bars came up to lock the windows, making escape impossible when they were in the house cleaning during the day. But the bars went down when a client would be using a room—couldn’t ruin the thin veneer of respectability. Bars made it clear that this was prison and nobody wanted to be here.
With the bars down, the windows could be opened. Except for that first night, she’d never attempted it, mostly because she’d never had this much space and time to do it before. When clients were in the house, there were more armed guards. But like the first night, she had to take this opportunity.
Deep down she knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of escaping. There wasn’t a convenient guard shift change she could utilize or some area of the property that was less well-guarded that she could make a beeline for. This was a suicide mission. Not once had she even gotten this close to freedom again, but she wasn’t deluding herself. They would gun her down before she was halfway across the property. At least she’d be outside in the open air when she died and not like some rat in a cage. Not like those blood stains in the basement. She couldn’t take another night of this. Not another minute.
She couldn’t go back out there, not to Gabe. Anyone but him. She was sure that whatever noble intentions had held him back on their date—caused him to spare her—were absent now that she was just some used-up whore.
The window was large enough that it was easy to climb out; the tricky part was the descent. At least it was the second floor and not the third. There was a balcony one door over, if she could manage to cling to the side of the building and edge her way along the thin ledge to that...
She held her breath and moved very slowly along the ledge, every second fearing Gabe would knock down the bathroom door and catch her. What would happen if he caught her? She’d probably startle and fall off the ledge. That might actually be the best way things could end.
After an endless space of time, she finally breathed as she gripped the railing of the balcony as if it were a life raft in a storm-tossed sea. She climbed over it and hid behind a large potted plant to figure out her next move.
Manka and one of the clients were in the room that connected to the balcony, so she couldn’t go back into the house. Manka’s cough had finally subsided, and whatever sickness she’d had months ago seemed to have cleared up. Though that wasn’t much comfort because she had to be back upstairs now.
On the other side of the balcony, there were what looked to be some very strong vines growing thickly against the wall. They hadn’t been feeding Julie well here, and she’d always been tiny. Still, she wasn’t sure the vines would hold her. But short of jumping from a second story balcony, it was her only way down. And even if it was a suicide mission, she kept hoping somehow that there would be some tiny slim chance she could escape. However unrealistic it might be, she wanted the chance even as she knew there wasn’t one.
Julie waited until Manka and the man moved to the bed out of clear view of the glass door, and then she half walked/half crawled to the other end of the balcony. She tugged hard on the vines, but they held solid.
She took a long, deep breath, screwed up her courage, and swung a leg over the railing of the balcony and grabbed onto the vine. Slowly, she eased her way down the side of the building, wincing as the vines scratched her skin and tore at the scraps of lingerie that barely covered her.
She was only a few feet from the ground when the vine snapped and she fell. The ground smacked her hard for such a small drop, but at most she was bruised.
Her gaze darted around the grounds, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. Dmitri’s property was too open. It was the main reason escape was so impossible. This was the inevitable final outcome she’d been delaying for months, and now she was sure the delay hadn’t been worth it.
They’d all been warned about running and what happened to girls who tried to escape, but Julie didn’t care anymore. She was sure Dmitri planned to kill her after tonight anyway because she couldn’t fake servile contentment as well as some of the others.
She’d only been running for a couple of minutes when one of the guards spotted her.
“Stop!”
A feeling of resignation and vague dread washed over her. She could barely find the will to keep running. Just stop, let it end now. But she couldn’t surrender.
A couple more guards saw her and began to converge on her as well. She kept running. The grounds were too big. She couldn’t run that distance and outpace gunfire. But would they start shooting with guests here? She wasn’t sure. Maybe they’d try to catch her and bring her back quietly, or take her somewhere discreet and pull out one of the smaller guns with a silencer and finish her off with that. Maybe they’d make one last use of her services first. She shuddered at that thought. That wasn’t an option. She was leaving this place tonight, even if it meant leaving this plane of existence altogether.
Julie shifted course and ran back toward the house and the parking lot. The one thing she knew was they wouldn’t shoot at the clients’ fancy cars. Footsteps pounded behind her as she zigzagged in and out of shiny Bentleys, Rolls Royces, Maybachs, a stray Bugatti or two. Her bare foot hit a rock, and she went down hard.
The guards caught up, and all at once three large black scary-looking guns were aimed at her sprawled and trembling form.
“Gentlemen, hold your fire.”
Julie looked up to find Gabe coming from the house and heading right for them with a frightening sense of purpose. The guards seemed confused and unsure of what to do. Dmitri had obviously not run them through this potential scenario before.
“Mr. Griffin, we’re sorry you had to see this, sir.”
Gabe looked pissed off. Of course he wouldn’t help her—if he was thi
s angry she’d try to run from him. But what could he expect her to do in this situation? She’d been right to run from him. He held his cell phone out to one of the guards. “Dmitri would like to speak with you.”
“Ummm...” A guard who only spoke English took the phone, his hand a bit shaky as he did. “Yes sir. Uh huh. Yes sir. Of course sir. I understand.” The guard ended the call and handed the phone back to Gabe. Then he turned to the other guards. “We are to return to our posts and let Mr. Griffin leave with the girl.” One of the guards translated in Russian for the others.
“But...” one of them said.
“Dmitri was insistent,” the first guard said.
The others shrugged and they wandered off back across the grounds to their posts.
Julie struggled to cover herself, not that such a thing was possible since everything she was wearing was short and see-through.
Gabe fiddled with something on his phone, lost in thought while the valet, having witnessed the commotion and determining that Mr. Griffin was ready to leave, went and got a dark blue Bentley from the lot. If not for the lighting in the parking lot, the car would have appeared black. The valet pulled the car around and tossed the keys to Gabe.
When they were alone and he was finished with whatever had been of such importance on his phone, Gabe turned all his focus on her. His stare was inscrutable. He silently watched her for a couple of minutes. Finally, he said, “I told you I could help you. Get in the car, Julie.”
“B-but you drive a Honda Civic.” That was the part to focus on. She still couldn’t believe she was alive.
“I drive a Honda Civic when I want to blend with the normals. Get in the car.”
She’d torqued her knee when she’d fallen, so running wasn’t an option now. At least Gabe didn’t have a gun trained on her. Still, he was one of them. Wasn’t he?
“Julie, so help me, if I have to tell you a third time...” His eyes blazed with fury.
She scrambled and half-crawled to get into the passenger side of the car. Gabe got in on his side, started the engine, and they peeled out of the parking lot.
“Why did Dmitri let you take me?”
“I convinced him that since he planned to get rid of you anyway, it only made sense to sell you to a willing buyer and at least make some money out of it. I bought you. You are now mine.”
She couldn’t help it when the tears started to fall again. “A-are you going to pimp me out?”
“No. Never.” He practically growled at her when he said it.
“Are you going to take me back to my apartment?” Like she still had an apartment. Either way, that outcome was unlikely. But she had to ask.
“No. You can never be out of my sight again.”
“W-what are you going to do with me?”
They reached the end of the driveway at the main road.
“Julie, please be quiet. I need to think.”
She closed her mouth and looked out the window. She jumped a moment later when Gabe’s hands slammed against the steering wheel and he shouted, “Goddammit!”
He looked over at her and no doubt noticed she was shaking because yelling meant violence came next. He put a hand gently on her knee. It took a large amount of self-talk to keep from pulling away. Why make him more angry?
“I’m sorry I’m scaring you. I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with the motherfucking bastards who did this to you, and now I don’t know what I’m going to tell Anton. We are supposed to be doing business with these guys. If I could go back in time I would have fucking kidnapped you on our first date and taken you away with me. Anything to spare you this. It’s my fault this happened.”
She stared at him a moment, trying to process all that. How could it be his fault? And... kidnap? Who the hell was this guy? She really wanted to trust him—trust in anything—but he had to stop using words like kidnap so casually. It wasn’t a word she could understand in a casual way. And unless he’d directly had her taken by Dmitri’s guys, it wasn’t as if there was any real way this could be his fault. She didn’t understand how his brain had made that leap.
“C-can I talk now?” she asked.
Gabe pulled out onto the main road and sighed. “Go ahead.”
“How is it your fault? Did you set me up?”
“Of course not! If I’d had any idea where you were I would have come after you then.”
“But don’t you do what they do?”
“Not exactly. Though I’m not sure you would appreciate the distinctions at this point. Are you hungry?”
Julie looked out the window and wiped another tear off her cheek. “Yes.”
“They didn’t feed you?”
She turned back to him when she’d managed to compose herself. “They don’t feed us until after we service the clients. If they are pleased, they feed us. If they aren’t...”
Gabe gripped the steering wheel so hard she was sure his knuckles had started to turn white, despite that golden tan of his.
“You’re thinner than you were the last time I saw you.”
“Like Dmitri said, I’m not his best.”
And Gabe was going to be very upset when he found out how poor of a whore she really was. She didn’t know how much he’d paid to get her out of there, but any amount high enough to have tempted Dmitri was way too much. Still she wondered. Ten thousand? Twenty? Certainly not more than twenty-five. And yet she knew Gabe would never get his money’s worth and was afraid of what would happen when he finally realized it. Experience had taught her, nothing good.
A streetlight shone into the car, and he used the opportunity to glance at an expensive gold watch on his wrist. “It’s closing in on eight, so the kitchen will be closed by the time we get there. I can get in, of course, but I’m not much of a cook.”
None of this made any sense to Julie so she remained quiet.
“The mall closes at ten on the weekends right?”
“I-I think so.”
“Okay, we’ll make a pit stop.”
“You’re wrong. This is my fault,” she said. “I should have gone to seminary like my parents wanted and married a nice preacher. None of this would have happened.”
Gabe’s hand closed over hers as he drove with the other. He didn’t take his eyes from the road. “Would you have been happy with a nice preacher?”
“Happier than this. I would have had to bury myself underneath his calling and never speak another honest word in my life, but I would have been safe at least and provided for.”
“You’re safe, now. I promise you are safe. And you will be provided for.”
They drove in silence for a while. Julie didn’t ask him anything else because she was still trying to puzzle out exactly what he did, why his kitchen was “closed”, and what it meant when he said she was his now. She thought she knew in a vague sort of way what it meant. And over the past months she’d been trained to see everything through the lens of her body being prostituted to wealthy men. So it wasn’t as if she were some naïve flower. Even so, there was a lot implied in that phrase that she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she wanted to. She was really afraid it had to do with his unconventional desires despite any earlier bravado about being able to handle it if he would only set her free afterward.
About fifteen minutes later, they were at the mall. Gabe parked at the very back of the lot.
“I-I can’t go in here.”
“Not yet you can’t. I’m going to get you some clothes. You’re about a six, right?”
“More like a four now.”
She flinched when he reached out and cupped her breast. Despite the intrusion, it didn’t seem like it was meant to violate. Though he could have asked her.
“36B” Gabe said. He seemed to abruptly realize what he’d done, a comical sort of horror lighting his face. “I’m very sorry. It’s a long story why that seemed normal and appropriate to me. Shoe size?”
He wasn’t going to grab and paw at her foot for that?
“Six.”
He filed all those numbers away. He took off his jacket and covered her with it. “I’m locking you in the car. I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you open the door, the alarm will go off, and I don’t imagine you want to call attention to yourself dressed like that. Don’t run from me again, Julie. I will protect you. Whatever you think of me, give me a chance to explain things.”
She nodded. He was right, running would call the wrong kind of attention. Whoever noticed her next was likely to be worse than Gabe. At least he was a somewhat known quantity. Even if she didn’t know everything about him, or all about his darker side, she had seen the parts of him he’d let her see. Given the choice between him and some random unknown predator, she’d take him. And if she ran and came upon a cop? He’d probably arrest her for prostitution rather than help her right now.
Gabe was gone maybe forty-five minutes. When he returned he had bags from a few different nice stores, including a lingerie shop. She was half afraid of what she’d find in the bags, but it was all normal stuff. A pair of jeans, a normal, lightweight long-sleeved shirt, sandals, and some underwear and a bra. Nothing slutty or attention-grabbing.
“I would have gotten you shorts and a T-shirt but I can’t take you in there looking all scratched up. I’ll stand outside while you change, then we’ll go inside to the food court and get something to eat.”
“Okay.”
He turned his back on the car to give her privacy. He looked like a bodyguard with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out into the distance. When she was dressed, Gabe came around to her side to help her out.
“Ow, ow, ow.”
“What is it?”
Was that real concern in his eyes? She barely remembered what concern looked like on a male face.
“When I fell, I hurt my knee.”
“Sit back down.”
She sat in the passenger side, and he knelt beside her, his strong hands pressing in at different places around and behind her knee. A breath hitched in her throat at the gentle, sure way he touched her. Then there was a sharp pressure, a tiny pain, and then it was gone.