“Rob, can I talk to you for a second?” Michael said motioning for Rob to follow. Once they got to a private corner Michael continued, “I asked you to dance with her not fuck her. Not with Bethany. She is Emma’s best friend. You fucking her and leaving her will hurt her.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I need this tonight. I’m happy for you and Emma, you know that, right? It’s just so hard watching you two; knowing I will never have that again. She knows what I’m all about, and she’s still game. We’re both adults capable of making our own decisions. If she wants to take me back to her place, then I’m going to go,” Rob informed his friend.
“Just make sure you explain your expectations before you leave with her. That way she knows exactly what she’s getting into,” Michael admonished Rob.
“Fine. If that’s what it takes to make you happy, consider it done,” Rob assured his friend as he laid his large hand upon Michael’s shoulder and squeezed. He didn’t want to start any sort of trouble. He would do as his friend asked because he did care about Emma and by extension, Bethany.
After watching the bride and groom cut the fragile cake covered in flowers and then delicately feed it to each other, Rob said his goodbyes and wished them a wonderful honeymoon in Aruba. If anyone deserved happiness, they did. He knew first hand everything they went through stopping the terrorist cell that had taken his Lizzie. He walked back to Bethany and asked if she was ready to leave.
“Let me grab my purse,” she said leaving him standing alone near the entrance. She returned anxiously, eager for what the night had in store. He reached for her hand and led her outside.
“I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow,” she offered. Fuck, how was he going to sneak out of her bed now? He would walk home; God knew he did plenty of walking as a former Green Beret.
Chapter 3
Lola’s eyes felt heavy as she struggled to open them. She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious nor did she know where she was. She smelled a musty odor, like it had just rained and wherever she was, felt damp and moldy. She was lying on a lumpy mattress with her head on an even lumpier pillow, yet she still couldn’t open her eyes. Then she heard it. At first it sounded far off in the distance, but the more she came to, the closer the voices sounded. They were the voices of females talking in another language. She recognized the French from the classes she’d taken in school. Then she exhaled as she heard English coming from someone near her.
“Hey. You awake?” the voice asked. She was still too groggy to open her eyes or respond. She had to pull out of whatever lethargy the drug had caused. She never did drugs, not even prescription medicines. Under the darkness of her closed eyelids, the memories came flooding back to her.
She was fourteen when she found her mother lying on the ensuite floor, unresponsive to Lola’s pleading. Dead. She’d known about the prescription medicines, but it wasn’t until after the funeral that her father told her that her mom had abused prescription drugs.
She remembered when her mother had hurt her back and the doctor prescribed pain medication. Her initial injury healed, but she was never able to get off of the medication, and apparently, because of their wealth, she was able to get whatever she wanted with a simple phone call. It came to light that her father knew all along about her addiction to pain medication and had even tried committing her mother three times to stays at a rehabilitation facility, the best money could buy. But it was no use; she was an addict.
When she found her lying on the floor, Lola raced to her side and dropped to her knees. Tears immediately streamed down her face as she shook her and pleaded with her to wake.
“Help! Help us!” she screamed. Eventually the staff heard her cries and came running into the bathroom. “Call 9-1-1,” she cried. After what felt like forever, the ambulance finally arrived, but pronounced her dead on the scene. Lola was never the same afterwards. All of her fond memories of her mother were stained by the vision of her lifeless body lying on that floor.
Drugs robbed her of a mother. Lola swore to herself she would never touch the stuff and in her twenty years, she never had. She would suffer through headaches so she didn’t have to take a pill. She was pissed at her mother for not being strong enough to get off drugs. Pissed her mom had left her when she needed her the most, at the tender age of fourteen. Pissed she didn’t care who found her, not even if it was her only child. She never had anyone to share stories of her first kiss with, never had anyone to share any of her success stories with. She had been robbed of her childhood on that very dark day.
Now she found herself drugged and in a foreign environment. Definitely not the Ritz Carlton. She was someplace dirty and uncomfortable, and from the sounds of it – she was with other women. What did they want from her? Maybe everyone here was being held for ransom.
She felt herself coming back and started to blink rapidly to clear the drug induced sleep from her mind. What she saw shocked her, and she shrank back into the bumpy mattress. There was a stunning brunette standing over her asking her questions. She tried hard to make sense of her words.
“Êtes-vous d'accord?” the brunette asked.
“Qui êtes-vous?” Lola replied. “Parlez-vous Anglais?”
“Yes, a little,” the brunette responded shoulders slumping with relief that Lola was awake and alert.
“Where am I?”
“I not sure. We have no, how do you say, clue.” The brunette girl spoke with a heavy French accent. “We sit here and wait for medicine and food.”
“How long have I been here, asleep?” Lola asked the brunette as a beautiful redhead appeared and answered in perfect English.
“You have been here a while. You arrived when the sun was directly overhead and now it’s dark. We were worried when you didn’t respond right away. None of us stayed under as long as you did, once we arrived.”
Lola looked around and what she saw frightened her. She didn’t know places like this even existed in America. She noticed a straw roof which must leak when it rained, accounting for the moldy and musty smell. The walls were made of bamboo and were crawling with insects. The placed swarmed with them. She noticed a rather large bug crawling up her cot towards her. She had never seen an insect so large. She waved her arms, screamed, and with one jump was immediately off of her cot and standing on the earth-packed floor. Upon further inspection, she noticed five cots in the small hut, including hers. There was a bucket in the corner of the room. “What’s that?” She pointed to the bucket, but by the smell of urine and feces she had a pretty good idea.
“That’s the latrine,” the French girl responded.
“We try to give each other privacy by turning our backs. But, they only empty it once a night, so the smell is something you have to get used to,” the English girl replied. Morbid curiosity pulled Lola closer to the bucket. Within a foot, she began to gag on the smell. Insects covered the contents of the bucket - from princess to prisoner in the span of a day.
“I’m Lola,” she said extending her hand to the other girls, showing her ingrained good manners. The French girl just looked at her outstretched hand, but the English girl grabbed it with her same hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “How long have you been here?”
“I have been keeping track in the dirt under my bed. I have been here nineteen days,” the English girl responded pointing under her cot. “I’m Alisha.” She pointed to the red head and said, “That’s Cece. And over there is Dangani. She’s African, but she can speak French and English.” For the first time, Lola took in the African girl’s features. She looked young, not much older than fourteen. Her body had not yet matured to that of a woman.
“How old is everyone?” Lola asked trembling.
“I’m sixteen,” Alisha responded. “Cece is seventeen, but Dangani is only thirteen. We try to look out for her. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty,” Lola responded trembling with fear as to what her captives’ plans were. “You said they brought medicine. What kind?”
“They bring it three times a day. It makes the stay here more tolerable. Like you just don’t care that you’re here,” Alisha said in a tone that communicated the helplessness of the situation.
“And if you don’t take it?” Lola asked, dreading the answer.
“Then they shoot you full of something that makes you pass out. Trust me, you want the pill,” young Alisha replied. How was Lola going to swallow a pill after she committed herself to never turning into her mother? She couldn’t get hooked on anything which made her not care; she wouldn’t be the brazen princess people had grown to love. That was if she was ever getting out of here.
“Have they ransomed your parents?” Lola asked hopeful because her daddy would pay whatever he had to, to get his princess back.
“They don’t talk to us. We’re lucky if they grunt at us when it’s time to eat. We have no idea why we’re here. Although, a doctor did examine all of us, inside and out,” Alisha warned. “On our second day here, a doctor came in and made me spread my legs. I don’t know what they were looking for.”
“Did it hurt?” Lola asked as her brows pulled together waiting for the answer.
“No, he was very gentle,” Alisha responded. Lola exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“What about her? Dangani? Does she talk?” Lola pointed to the girl curled into the fetal position on her cot.
“Yeah, she talks. Her medicine has kicked in. That’s how she gets when she takes it. Me, I am still able to talk; I just don’t give a shit about anything, which is nice, ya know?” Alisha counseled.
“Me too,” Cece concurred.
Just then the door opened and a tall, lanky Latino man with a pit-marked face entered the room.
“Glad to see you’re finally awake,” the man spoke in perfect English. “I was beginning to worry Marco had given you too much.” All eyes were on the man. It was the first time he had spoken to any of them. “I have brought supper and your medicine for the night. It will help you sleep.”
Lola took the small plate handed her. On it was a chunk of bread, a piece of chicken, and broccoli. At least he was giving her decent food to eat. “Line up.” He motioned for the girls to form a line in front of him. He held out his hand and Cece took a pill from him. She placed it in her mouth and swallowed. He motioned for her to lift her tongue as he inspected her mouth. What was she going to do? He would make sure she was drugged one way or another. She would rather take the pill and stay cognizant of what was happening around her even if she didn’t care. Next up was Alisha. Same thing. Dangani was still curled up on her cot. The man signaled Lola was next. She took an apprehensive step forward. She watched as impatience grew on his face. His lips tightened into a thin line, and he raised his brows as if challenging her to disobey him. She trembled but stepped forward.
“What is this?” she asked.
“No questions. Your stay can be pleasant or it can be hell, it’s up to you. You want hell, question me and refuse what I have to give you,” the man said thrusting his hand in front of Lola’s chest. Lola wanted pleasant. This was already unpleasant enough as it was. She didn’t want to see how much worse it could get. She put the pill on her tongue and swallowed. “Open your mouth and lift your tongue.” When the man was satisfied Lola had swallowed the pill, he approached Dangani.
“She has already had enough. Can’t you see?” Lola argued with the man. The man stalked towards Lola and backhanded her across her face knocking her to her cot. She immediately raised a hand to the burning skin.
“Don’t question me.” He towered over her and raised his hand again to see if she would disobey. Lola slowly sank further into her cot. She watched helplessly as the man pulled a syringe from his pocket and plunged it into Dangani’s arm. He then grabbed their bucket and left. Lola sat numbed by the burning and humiliation of being hit. How could they feed them so well, but keep them drugged and have a doctor look after them? It didn’t make any sense. A few minutes later, a different man of the same Latino decent entered with their now empty bucket. He placed it in the corner and then he walked within a hair’s breadth of Lola. He gestured for her to stand and move to the center of the room. She did. He walked around her touching her body. She cringed inwardly at the touch, but wouldn’t show him her fear. She raised her chin defiantly and allowed him to touch her. He lifted her dress and admired her taut stomach. He squeezed her arms and then her thighs, grunting his approval at the toned muscle he felt in his hand. He leaned in and sniffed her. He was dirty and smelled like body odor and urine. She crinkled her nose and breathed through her mouth while he inhaled her. “Honeysuckle,” was the only word he spoke. He turned about and left the shack.
Chapter 4
Rob hit the snooze button on his alarm clock for the fourth and last time. Another morning and he felt like shit. Leaning up slightly, he looked at the time – 0730. Staring up at the ceiling, he sighed. Great, he was going to be late. Dragging his ass out of bed, he went downstairs, and made his way into his kitchen. He poured himself two fingers of scotch and gulped it down. Hair of the dog was the quickest way to put him back into tip-top shape. He needed to be at work by 0900. Running his hands through his hair, he headed to the bathroom and rushed through his shower. At least he hadn’t given up on hygiene, except on the weekends. He went to the boxing ring at his local gym regularly to take out his frustration on whatever lucky man happened to want to go a round with him. That kept him in fighting shape. His employment with Blackrain Security required him to stay in the best shape possible. His best asset to the company was that he didn’t care if he lived or died. He would gladly step into harm’s way to accomplish the mission. And, if he was lucky, it would be the mission which finally reunited him with his Lizzie.
Just the thought of her name had his head spinning. He stood in the shower and remembered the last night they had spent at home. They were watching some chick flick he couldn’t remember the name of, but he watched it because it pleased her. She cuddled up to him on the couch and rested her chin against his shoulder. He had his arm draped around her and was caressing her bare skin. She wore her pink boy shorts underwear with a tank top which left plenty of exposed skin for him to touch. She was remarkably soft and beautiful. He remembered the feel of a tear drop on his bare chest as she cried at the end of the movie. He remembered the way he tilted her chin to thumb away her tears. He remembered the way he slowly made love to her right there on the couch.
He had had his time in paradise; this, his life now, was pure hell.
He got out of the shower more determined than ever to take any and all risks thrown his way today. Heading to his closet, he chose his standard uniform. A pair of jeans that hung perfectly from his narrow hips and showed the briefest hint of the boxer briefs he wore underneath. A tight fitting t-shirt showed off his broad shoulders, ripped biceps, and peeked at his half-sleeve tattoo on his right arm snaking onto his chest and right side of his body. Slipping his feet into his work boots, he never bothered to take the time to lace them unless he was on a mission. He didn’t give a shit what he looked like, as long as he got the job done. Grabbing his keys from the leaf-like Pier One dish Lizzie had purchased for that exact reason, he headed out the door.
About forty-five minutes later, Rob reached Blackrain Security. The nondescript brick building housed the company which provided assignments while he and his friends were still self-contractors. Now, all five surviving members of the five tours in Afghanistan were employed by Blackrain, except Kevin who worked for Homeland Security. Blackrain’s owner, Rob’s boss, was a former Navy Seal who respected the Green Berets for the grueling training they endured as well as their success rate while on missions. He waited for Rob at the door.
“You’re early. That’s shocking,” Tyrrell bantered trying to change the semi-permanent scowl that adorned Rob’s face.
“Am I the first one here? That is shocking,” Rob said smiling. It was a start.
“Yeah. I have a job for your team. Let
’s wait until the others get here, and then I will brief you all at once. Go get a cup of coffee. You look like you need it,” Tyrrell said with an easy smile. Rob walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the company secretary, Helen.
“Good morning, Rob. How did you sleep?” Helen offered Rob black coffee, just the way he liked it.
“Like a baby, Helen,” Rob replied. He would never let anyone know he had to pass out from alcohol before he could sleep.
“That’s good. We need you in top shape for the new mission. It’s a big one,” she said with a genuine smile.
Rob walked back down the hallway to the cube farm. He sat at his desk, put his feet up, and drank his coffee while he waited for Tony and Steve to arrive. Michael wouldn’t be back to work for two weeks; he was in Aruba on his honeymoon. He really was happy for his best friend. He wished he could be a better friend and show it. It’s just he was still so raw; it still felt like Lizzie died yesterday. He heard his brothers enter the office, and also heard a voice he didn’t recognize. He got up and walked to greet his brothers and the new man. He pulled each brother into a one-arm hug and then extended his hand to the stranger. “I’m Rob.”
“I’m Aaron. I’ve been called in for your team,” he said and shook Rob’s hand.
“I didn’t know I was getting anyone new,” Rob said looking to his brothers.
“Neither did we,” Tony replied, studying Aaron.
Stronger (The Unit Book 2) Page 2
