by M. S. Parker
Once I got out, I’d get ahold of Clay, and he would send men in to rescue the rest. Jenna would help him find every one of these sons of bitches who hid behind the two-way mirrors and in the shadows.
“A word of warning,” Serge said as he grabbed my arm. “Don’t. Be. Stupid.”
I ignored him. I was going to be stupid very shortly, and his warning wouldn’t change that.
We made another turn, and I finally caught a glimpse of what I’d been looking for from the moment we stepped inside.
Red light.
Exit.
The people involved here might be heartless bastards who had no problems with buying and selling human beings for all sorts of depravities, but they weren’t stupid enough to put themselves into a building without fire exits.
The moment Serge’s grip loosened, I yanked away…hard. As I’d hoped, it made my stumble into the scrawny man look unintentional. A move that threw him off balance and gave me my one chance.
I ran out of the flats, cursing the way the dress hindered my movements, but not daring to hesitate. It was going to be cold, and it wouldn’t feel pleasant on my feet, but I’d take ice over this any day. I expected shouts behind me, a flurry of activity, but the only sounds I heard over the racing of my pulse were the exclamations of the other women and fists against flesh to turn those cries into ones of pain.
My hands hit the bar on the fire door, and the gust of cold nearly took my breath away. I hadn’t realized how overheated I’d gotten until a full breath pierced my lungs like icicles. My feet slapped the wet blacktop, and I ran blindly, searching for something familiar, for someone, anyone, who would take me to the police.
An open door. Warmth. Strength. Safety. I’d be at a hospital soon, getting my system flushed, wounds tended. I’d be home by tomorrow. Or better yet, I’d be in bed with Jalen, sleeping in his arms.
Except none of that happened.
Oh, I tried to run, and I made it to the fire exit. But when I hit the bar, I bounced back, my feet tangling together. Strong arms caught me, but they weren’t the ones I wanted. These were hard steel, confining, bruising. They pulled me against a granite chest.
“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Serge said in my ear.
I screamed, kicking my feet up and throwing myself back against him. He squeezed me harder, muttering curses as he fought to hold me still. I didn’t stop, twisting and using as much of my body weight as I could, anything that could get me out of his grip and through that damn door. Except I couldn’t breathe, and screaming had emptied my lungs until spots exploded in front of my eyes.
And then I felt it. The all-too-familiar sting of the needle, then the rush of drugs making my head spin.
My body went slack, and I forgot what I was doing. Forgot why it hurt so much to breathe. Two blows to the stomach had me retching, but the pain was muddled as the colors came flooding back, dancing around as someone pulled me to my feet and ordered me to walk again.
Time slipped and swirled, and then I was standing on a stage, staring stupidly into a blinding light as I tried to remember why I should care about being here like this. Men’s voices came from behind the lights, but their voices blended together, making it impossible for me to understand what anyone was saying.
Someone listed numbers that kept growing higher and higher until, finally, I made out a single word.
Sold.
I’d been sold.
I swayed, trying to remember why those words sent a shiver of fear down my spine, but it was all I could do to stay on my own two feet.
Iron fingers dug into my arm, and I heard a bark of displeasure. The grip lessened, and I frowned but didn’t pull away. My muscles felt rubbery, weak, and I could barely feel my feet. I saw another girl shuffle past as I was pushed out of the way, and I felt a dull throb of helpless anger that I couldn’t do anything to change her fate any more than I could my own.
“Just keep walking.” A man’s voice came from next to me. “Just keep walking.”
I nodded and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
Nine
That beeping was damn annoying, but I had an idea that it was important. I wasn’t yet sure why, but it’d come to me eventually, I was sure.
For now, I was content with my change in circumstances. I had an inkling that they were supposed to somehow be worse than they had been, but I didn’t have the energy to question it. Instead, I stared up at the ceiling and enjoyed the fact that I was warm and laying on something much softer than the floor.
“I was hoping you’d come,” I said as I heard the scrape of a chair. I didn’t need to look over to know who was sitting there. I would know him anywhere.
“Rona? You’re awake?”
Fingers closed around mine, but I still didn’t look. With everything that had happened, a part of me knew that my brain wasn’t quite all back to normal, but I was okay with talking to hallucinations. On some level, I was aware that I’d been doing it since I was drugged the first time. It was how I’d coped in my basement cell, and it would get me through whatever came next.
“I’m not sure,” I answered slowly.
“Not sure what, baby?” His voice was soft, and it made me smile.
“Not sure if I’m awake.” I turned my head finally, grimacing at the ache in my muscles, but it was worth it to see his face again.
Even though he looked rough. Stubble, dark shadows under his eyes, wrinkled clothes.
My hallucinations were getting even more detailed than they had been before.
“Why’s that?” he asked as he smoothed his free hand over my forehead.
“Colors have been talking,” I whispered.
His eyes widened slightly. “Really? And what have they been saying?”
I shrugged. “All sorts of things. We played games, but sometimes they cheated. You and Clay wouldn’t play with me. All you ever wanted to do was talk.”
“We talked.” He made it a statement rather than a question.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course we talked. All the time. You and me and Clay.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, something real flickered across his eyes. But it couldn’t be real because I hadn’t escaped. Serge had caught me, and I’d been sold. I still remembered that. So even if I was somewhere warm and laying on something soft, it was only because the person who bought me wanted me healthy so that he could hurt me however he wanted.
“I liked that you were getting along,” I admitted. “It was nice, being able to talk to both of you together.”
He got a thoughtful look on his face, and he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “Clay really means a lot to you, huh?”
I nodded. “He’s family.” I scowled. “Not exactly, since that’d be gross, but you know what I mean. Clay was there, even after Anton died.”
“You need him.”
I shook my head. I didn’t like the way he sounded. Sad. Resolved.
“He’s a friend. That’s all.”
“And what am I?”
If he hadn’t been an illusion inside my head, I would’ve thought he was talking to himself, but since he wasn’t real, I answered him with the simplest, most straightforward response I could give. “You’re everything.”
Ten
I sucked in a breath and jolted upright, eyes wide, and my mind brutally, and finally, clear.
I was awake. Really, truly awake, and information inundated every one of my senses in an almost overwhelming flood.
I was in a hospital. The beeping that had made its way into my subconscious made sense now. Based on the quality of the sheets I felt under my palms and the fact that I appeared to be in a private room. I had an IV in my hand and one of those clip things on my finger. I was still sore, which meant I hadn’t been out that long, though I didn’t know specifics about when or where I was.
Or if I was safe.
A private room in a hospital didn’t necessarily mean that I’d been somehow rescued. Until I saw proof
that I wasn’t still a prisoner, I needed to keep my wits about me. Who knew–
“Rona, thank God you’re awake.”
I turned toward the door, half hoping that I was mistaken and that I would see Jalen. Instead, I saw the person I second most wanted to see. “Clay.”
He crossed the room quickly, the relief obvious on his face. “I was so worried.”
I was glad to see him, I really was, but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Jalen wasn’t there. I wasn’t surprised though. He had a baby to think of now, after all. I refused to be sad. Clay was there, and I was alive. Not only alive, but free.
He crushed me in a hug, then cursed when I made a pained sound. He immediately released me but didn’t move away. He wrapped his hands around mine, mindful of the IV.
“What day is it?” I asked.
“Sunday,” he said, his eyes moving over my body, as if he was reassuring himself that I was real.
I knew the feeling.
“I’ve only been gone for three days?” I frowned. “It seemed like more.”
He shook his head. “You were missing for eight days, and you’ve been here since Friday night.”
A memory battled through the drug-induced fog of my time away.
“What about the others?” I looked around even though I’d already seen that I was alone.
“The others?”
“The other girls,” I said impatiently. “Are they okay?” More memories prompted more questions. “What about Serge and Yerik and the other men who took me? And those bastards at the auction? Did you get them all?”
The baffled expression on Clay’s face was the first indication that something was off.
“Clay,” I spoke slowly, unsure if I really wanted an answer, “what happened while I was gone?”
He sat down in a chair I hadn’t noticed before, pulling it closer so he could reach for my hand again. I was tempted to pull away until he explained whatever it was that had him looking like he’d been hit by a two-by-four, but I needed the comfort of a familiar touch.
“I tried calling you on Friday morning to ask you about one of the cases you were looking into for Jenna.” He looked down at our hands. “When you didn’t answer, I texted you. By noon, I knew something was wrong, so I went to see Jalen at work.”
I braced myself for whatever Jalen had told Clay about the last time we’d been together.
“He wasn’t there.”
A flash of pain went through me. Jalen had probably been busy with Elise. Doctor appointments. Shopping for baby stuff. Working out living arrangements.
“I finally got one of his employees to tell me where he was.” Clay’s eyes flicked up to my face, then fell again. “He was with Jenna.”
I frowned. Jenna?
“I went over and found the two of them in front of computers, looking like they hadn’t slept in a day and a half. They hadn’t been able to get ahold of you either.”
They’d noticed. All three of them had noticed that I was gone. Even as busy as they were with their families and jobs, they’d missed me. A lump formed in my throat.
“Jalen and I went to the police to file a missing person’s report,” Clay continued. “I wanted something official in the system when I petitioned the FBI to let me use our resources to find you, but they wouldn’t help. First, they said that it hadn’t been long enough. Then it was because of what happened between you and Jalen the last time he saw you. He said you two hadn’t broken up, but they clearly didn’t believe it.”
Based on his tone, I suspected that the cops weren’t the only ones who hadn’t believed it. I didn’t press it though. I wanted to know more and getting us off-track by talking about my relationship with Jalen wouldn’t accomplish anything.
“Then they asked if you had a history of leaving and not telling anyone, of cutting off contact without warning.” His eyes finally met mine. “I had no way of knowing if this time was different than when you bolted from Virginia.”
I kept my lips pressed together to keep me from saying something that I’d regret. He knew damn well this wasn’t the same. Jalen and I were in a relationship. I never would’ve just left without talking to him at least. In Virginia, I’d been lost, reeling from being expelled, my future suddenly empty. Here, I had a business. A home. Friends. Without the FBI, the only thing I’d had in Virginia had been him. And what we’d had never would have been enough to hold me, no matter how much he wanted to believe it.
“What happened next?” I asked, my voice as stiff as I felt. I rubbed my fingers, both of us pretending that was the reason I’d pulled my hand away.
“I went to the office and made some calls,” he said. “I spoke to the warden in Indiana and had your father’s correspondence checked. I got a list of his visitors, the calls he’d made and received. I had the warden talk to other prisoners and to your father.”
My dad? My forehead furrowed as I frowned. He was a lot of things, many of them horrible, but he wasn’t a human trafficker. He’d tried to kill me, sure, but he’d never sell me. And he sure as hell didn’t have the resources to pull off something like that auction, even if he’d suddenly decided to go into business.
“While I was doing that, Jenna was digging on her own and Jalen was out on foot,” Clay continued. “He retraced your steps over and over, starting where he’d last seen you and going through all sorts of possibilities. Saturday afternoon, he called me, but I was busy and didn’t pick up. That evening, I got a call from Jenna, but I didn’t answer that one either. I figured if anyone was going to find you, it would be me.”
Clay hadn’t found me. The realization stunned me. I’d been certain that my rescue had been the result of an FBI raid he’d led. Now, I had no idea what’d happened.
He ran his hand through his hair, then rubbed his jaw. “I kept ignoring them, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. If I’d only listened…” He shook his head, his expression haunted. “The reason they’d been calling me was that Jalen had found your phone in a ditch near his house, and Jenna had dug deep into activity around your father. The two of them were convinced that you’d been taken by someone not connected to your dad, but when they finally talked to me on Monday morning, I told them they were wrong.”
Monday morning. Jalen and Jenna had known by Monday morning that I’d been kidnapped, but I’d spent four more days in my cell. Even though I hadn’t yet heard the end of the story, I couldn’t help but blame Clay.
“I didn’t talk to them again until Friday night when Jenna called to tell me you were here.” He stretched out his hand again but stopped short of touching me. “That’s when I found out what Jalen had done.”
My blood ran cold at the way Clay delivered that single statement. “What did he do?” The question barely made it past my numb lips.
“Jenna monitors the dark web for any chatter about human trafficking. Sometime on Wednesday, she heard about an auction in Wellington.”
I knew the name and that it was about twenty minutes north of Fort Collins. My knowledge of it ended there.
“She said her gut told her to check it out, and when she did, she found a…catalog of people for sale. Male and female, all under the age of twenty-five. She recognized a couple of them as college students who’d been reported missing over the last few months.”
My stomach lurched, and I twisted my fingers together, but I didn’t ask him to stop.
“It’s my fault,” Clay said. “She tried to tell me, but I ignored her. She called Raymond, but I’d told him that I needed his help to find you, and Jenna was on the wrong track. She tried to do things the right way, but I was too stubborn and arrogant to listen. Jalen listened though.”
The memory hit me then, clearer than the experience itself had been.
A familiar scent crept through the odors of fear and pain. A familiar arm wrapped around my waist, and a familiar voice spoke.
“Just keep walking.”
I knew that voice, that smell. I’d been dreaming ab
out them, praying that I’d find them again. Now, he was here with me, and I didn’t want to believe it.
“Just keep walking.”
“What did you let him do?” I whispered.
“I didn’t let Jalen do anything,” Clay said. He hesitated, then added, “But I didn’t listen to him and Jenna either.”
“Clay.”
“He went undercover at the auction and bought you.”
Everything stopped with that sentence. “He did what?”
Clay repeated his statement, but it didn’t make it any less bizarre. I now knew that Jalen had been the one who’d saved me, the one who’d taken me from the auction and brought me to the hospital, but it wasn’t until that exact moment that I understood how he’d done it. He hadn’t worked with the FBI to take down a trafficking ring. He hadn’t made sure that trained agents had his back while he did something insanely stupid.
He’d pretended to be one of those sleazy assholes and bought me.
Oh hell no.
Eleven
Clay left not too long after he got a complete statement from me about what had happened. Because of Jalen, he’d already known about the other people being sold, but Jalen hadn’t been able to give him the names of any of the sellers, and he’d only had the vaguest descriptions. With what I’d given Clay, he had enough to start looking through known traffickers, and once I’d assured him that I was fine by myself, he left.
I let my mind drift aimlessly as I flipped through the television channels. I’d lost more than a week, and it was going to take some time to absorb that. Nurses and doctors came at random intervals, checking machines and poking and prodding me. I let them do their jobs, answering their questions when asked and being quiet when they didn’t. They didn’t ask about what I’d been through, not beyond the medical things that they needed to know.
