by P. Jameson
“Yeah,” Ace snickered. “Only Felix could ever push Weaver around.”
The space grew tense at the mention of their lost leader.
Smokes sighed, wishing he could light up a cigarette. “Point is, the doctor needs things for Jan. Y’all gonna help, or just give me shit?”
“Fuck,” Ratchet spat. “We’re sitting on a felony here. And so soon after all the shit with Bastian.”
Skittles finally spoke up. “Not if… not if the doctor agrees to stay voluntarily.”
Ratchet looked to Smokes. “Will he?”
“Yeah.” Smokes nodded. “Sure.” If you don’t count all the threats of bodily harm he’d already leveled at the guy.
Ratchet paced the floor. “Having him here is risky. There has to be another way to help Janet.”
“There’s not. She won’t go to the hospital. And I won’t make her.” He lowered his voice, hoping only those with shifter hearing, those who were mated, would pick up the next part. “It terrifies her. I won’t do it.”
Monster, who hadn’t said a word, cleared his throat. “We take care of the females. That means every part of them. If Janet doesn’t trust a hospital, we bring the hospital to her. Smokes did right.”
Right? Wait.
Wasn’t he trying to avoid that whole right and wrong thing?
Abducting a doctor from the hospital was somehow… right?
Ace shrugged. “If it was my female, I’da done the same thing.” Murmured agreement from some of the others left Smokes surprised. Were these the same males who growled at him just minutes ago? What had changed?
Ratchet scowled, his bronze hair shadowing his face to make his eyes glow. “Convince the doctor to help on his own goodwill. And hell, pay him for his services. And Weaver, you’re gonna help watch him.”
Weaver grumbled a response.
Smokes let out the breath he’d been half holding. His balls were on the line here, he knew it. But Janet was worth the risk. He wouldn’t let her or her young fall through the cracks.
Someone had to care.
That someone was him.
He was so fucked.
***
Logan stood outside the warehouse, watching as Toya’s ratty Honda Civic pulled onto the gravel lot and parked. He remembered the days of his own residency. Of riding the line of being broke from all the school loans and drawing a life changing salary. She was smart for holding onto her reliable vehicle for a while. Many young smartasses would go out and buy the first flashy thing that caught their eye. Just for shits and giggles. And after all those years of schooling hell, they kind of deserved to.
But not Toya Crest.
She was different.
And that’s what he was counting on when he asked her help.
She got out of the car, carrying a small duffle bag, her nervous steps bringing her across the gravel until she stood before him, looking as wobbly as she probably felt.
Logan glanced at the muscled-up giant who was standing guard beside him. As if Toya could do any harm at all.
Well, she could call the police. But he’d told her not to.
“I brought what you needed,” she said quietly before her gaze went to the one Smokes had called Weaver. Her eyes went wide like maybe she recognized him. Logan opened his mouth to ask, but then she shivered as if shaking off a ghost, and turned her attention back to him. “Are you all right? What is going on?”
“On vacation,” Logan quipped.
She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “On vacation. Here? And needing medical supplies that should be ordered through proper channels. This doesn’t look like Cancun to me.”
Weaver smirked. “Not even close, woman.”
“Call it leave then. I’m on leave and I have a patient to tend to. Thank you for your—”
“A patient?” Toya frowned, but Logan could see the intrigue in her expression. She had what many residents didn’t. A true interest in bettering those around her.
It was a good trait for a doctor to have.
He’d also seen it ruin careers.
“Need an extra hand?” she asked.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why? Are you in danger?” He’d already told her he was, but her gaze flitted to the other man, seeming to challenge him.
“He’s here of his own free will,” Weaver answered.
“Yes,” Logan agreed quickly. He needed to get Toya out of here before she became necessary to their cause and they decided to keep her too. “Thank you for this. I’ll be in touch.”
He nodded for her to get back to her car.
“No. She comes with us,” Weaver spoke.
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
The man finally pulled his attention from Toya to smirk at Logan. “Don’t worry, doc. I won’t keep her. Just gotta take her to Ratchet first so he can talk to her.”
Logan slid a glance to his resident. She could run but she wouldn’t make it far. He gave her a slight nod and turned back to the warehouse, praying she followed. Weaver fell in behind her as they entered the building.
“You can go help Janet,” he told Logan. “I’ll take care of your little doctor friend.” But the slide of his voice wasn’t exactly reassuring, and Logan didn’t want to leave Toya alone with the man.
“She’s sleeping. She can wait.” Logan eyed Toya. “I’d like to meet this… Ratchet as well.”
Weaver shrugged. “Fine.” And then stalked off toward one of the open office doors on the lower floor.
Logan and Toya followed, and when they got close, he could hear the faint sound of a female voice.
Great. There were more helpless women here. Of course there were. He might be the only one who could make sure they were safe. It was true what Weaver said. Logan had his own reasons for staying now.
Inside the office, he was surprised to find things weren’t as he’d assumed.
On a long couch sat one mean-ass looking man. His shoulder length blond hair hung in his face and through the strands, his dark eyes promised many kinds of pain to anyone who came against him. But the thing that had Logan confused was the smiling woman who sat sideways on his lap, one arm draped around the man’s neck and the other cradling her very pregnant belly.
“Hello,” she said when she noticed them. Her smiling morphed into something friendly instead of one that shared secrets with a brutal man. Awkwardly, she maneuvered off his lap and using his hand to help, stood to face them. “I’m Marlee. And this is my… this is Thomas. People around here like to call him Ratchet.”
The man stood to his full height, towering over her. But the way he tucked her gently against his side, like she was something precious, seemed all at odds with Logan’s first impression of him.
“Doctor,” Ratchet nodded. “If there is anything you need, or want, during your stay with us, just let me or my lady know.”
The words were kind but the tone beneath them was not. Maybe this was how the man always spoke though. Maybe it was how they all spoke. It probably wasn’t easy for such a cruel group of people to make nice.
And Logan was no stranger to their specific brand of cruelty.
“This is Dr. Toya Crest,” he introduced. “She’s only here to bring me emergency supplies. She should be allowed to leave now.”
Marlee frowned, looking concerned. “Of course she’s allowed to leave.”
“Actually,” Toya smiled enthusiastically. “I’d love to stay and help Dr. Logan if I can. My shift is over at the hospital.” He knew what she was doing. She didn’t want to leave him here until she knew the whole story.
Goddamn it.
Marlee’s smile grew. Turning to Toya, she took her hand in both of her own. “Thank you so very much for helping our Jan. It would have been very hard for her to go to the hospital. It likely would’ve set her back a few weeks, and that…” She finished her thought with a sad shake of her head. “The two of you coming here… well, it just means the world to us.”
“S-sure,” Toya murm
ured, “No problem.”
No problem.
Marlee clearly didn’t know that Logan had been forced here by that maniac Smokes. Or that he was attempting to smuggle medical products from his veterinarian and his place of employment.
But she also didn’t seem to be in any danger. She wasn’t be held against her will. She was healthy and thriving.
Not at all like his patient who was wasting away in a bed down the hall.
“Stay as long as you’d like,” Ratchet added, pegging Logan with a hard gaze. “Both of you. You’re our guests. Even if the accommodations aren’t exactly five star, we have good food. Good drinks. And we’re in your debt.” He gave a nod that felt like a promise. What kind of promise, Logan couldn’t guess.
But time would tell. For now, he needed to see that his patient got better. Tomorrow he would investigate whether any other people were being held against their will here. And Toya would go back to the hospital whether she wanted to or not.
Because someone had to watch over Felix.
If that bastard regained his memory and showed up here… well, Logan could kiss any hopes of leaving this warehouse with all his fingers and toes a big fat fucking goodbye.
Was it wrong to wish for a patient to never recover?
If it was, he didn’t want to be right.
Chapter Seven
It was a dream.
It was always a dream. But it spun so quickly that it was hard to say at what point she became aware she was dreaming. And it went from good to ugly in less than a heartbeat.
The only nice thing about it turning ugly was that it meant it was almost over. The dream always turned into a nightmare before she woke in a panic. On her luckiest nights, she didn’t wake at all. The nightmare just ended, and she could sleep in peace for a while before waking to new nightmares of reality.
Maybe tonight would be that kind of ending.
She danced among a crowd, music popping out a beat that her body insisted on responding to. Lights flashed, different colors slapping the faces around her. Faces that smiled and laughed. Faces that held hungry eyes. Faces that wanted to let loose after a hard day of finals exams.
She’d been one of those faces.
She had smiled and laughed and hungered for contact. For release. For freedom.
Glitch.
She giggled as the man kissed her neck, and together they fell through the door and into his apartment. He smelled like expensive cologne and tequila. And smoke from the club. She knew he was hardly a man. He was a student, like she was. Studying law or politics or… something. She couldn’t remember the details. But his touch made her feel good and she wanted more. So here they were, kissing their way to his bed. And they’d both be smiling by morning.
Glitch.
Text books were splayed open on her bed as she studied for midterms. No parties until she could hammer down that anatomy test with a 100%. And no, the man helping her study didn’t need to take his clothes off when she asked him to. But she did ask very nicely. It was always a good idea to study real anatomy instead of those crazy text book drawings, right?
She giggled as he pushed her back against the mattress and showed her all his parts. Intimately.
Glitch.
She was almost there. One more year of school and she’d have the job she’d always wanted. She’d be able to patch up the wounds her father came home with. Wounds he wouldn’t go to the hospital for. Or couldn’t, she suspected. Because the man he worked for was a real piece of shit.
But it was a good paying job.
Good enough to put her through school. Which he was determined to do.
And college had been good to her. There were no horror stories to tell like her father said there would be. She’d learned a lot about herself. Experimented with her own boundaries, and had no regrets. She was a good student who still found time to have fun.
Life was good.
Glitch.
Life was bad.
What was life anyway?
This. Life was this. A pain between her legs that she had no control over.
She lay on a bed in a dark room, staring at the shadow of the ceiling above so she wouldn’t have to look at the man using her. Her stomach roiled and she clamped her jaw tight to keep anything from coming up.
It was almost over. It had to be almost over.
Glitch.
Another bed. Another dim room.
Another man.
Just another of many. So many she’d lost count.
It was a stupid thing to count anyway. What was the point in knowing how many men you’d been sold to over the years? It was better not to think about it. It was better to just exist as shallowly as possible. Be an empty shell. Because empty things didn’t feel.
Glitch.
A monster or a man. Maybe there was no difference. She had no point of reference anymore. There was the monster who held her captive, and the ones who did his bidding. There were the monsters who bought her night after night. There were monsters who pretended to be good but never helped her. And they were all men. So maybe monsters were men and men were monsters. Maybe the ones she’d known in college were monsters now too. From where she was at, it was too hard to tell.
“Almost done, baby.”
Stare at the ceiling. Imagine you’re somewhere else. Imagine you’re dead.
Imagine you’re free.
Glitch.
The man glared at her from across his shiny mahogany desk. The biggest monster of them all. “You’re losing me money, Twenty.” Twenty. The number he’d assigned to take the place of her name.
I’m Janet! she wanted to scream.
But she wasn’t her anymore, was she? She didn’t smile and dance and make new friends. She didn’t spend her days learning how to mend people who needed help.
“My doctor says there’s nothing wrong with you. Know what that means, little girl? It means you’re faking it. You’re making yourself vomit because you think it will save you from working.”
She shook her head, but didn’t bother explaining. He wouldn’t listen to her words. Wouldn’t hear that she wasn’t pretending. She wasn’t shoving fingers down her throat to gag.
“But I know how to break girls,” he murmured, deceptively quiet. “I’m very, very good at it. Breaking girls and turning them into Dolls.”
Glitch.
Life was this. Dressing up, working for the monster, pretending she was somewhere else. Being sick.
She was always fucking sick. It didn’t matter what she ate or how much she practiced mind over matter.
Her body betrayed her at every turn. As if the sickness she accepted into it, constantly had to come back out.
Glitch.
Freedom, but she wasn’t free. She was chained by what she’d lived through. There was no such thing as freedom when you’d been a Doll. Wait, that wasn’t true. Other Dolls were happy. Other Dolls had become what they were before being taken and used. Other Dolls smiled and laughed and loved.
Other Dolls were free. Just not her. Not Twenty.
Not Janet.
Glitch.
He watched her. A new monster. One who spoke hardly anything since a cigarette was usually hanging from his lips. He watched but never touched. Sometimes he watched with no expression. Other times he scowled. Occasionally his eyebrows lifted, transforming him into something softer.
He gave her hope.
Hope that not all men were monsters. Hope that she could be free like the others.
He watched her always. Watched but never touched.
She tested her hopes with a smile. Not a full one, but the best she could offer him. Was it enough?
Time stood still… him watching… her trying to smile…
Tick tock, tick tock.
He tossed his cigarette to the ground, grinding it with the toe of his boot, and then turned and walked away.
She watched him go. Walking and walking forever until he was nothing more than a speck in her vision.
<
br /> Gone.
Glitch.
Pitch black darkness enveloped her as her stomach stormed and rolled with impending doom. This was the end, and it was the worst part. The darkness. There was nothing above or below her. When she reached out, she felt nothing before or behind her. Tears tracked down her cheeks but they had nowhere to fall. Because she was nothing surrounded in nothing. She wasn’t Twenty, she wasn’t Janet. She was a void. Something that existed once and now didn’t.
Drawing in a breath full of darkness, she screamed. Screamed as loud as she could, so that someone could hear her. Anyone.
But her scream made no sound. It was nothing too.
Nothing. Silent. Vacant. Void.
Glitch… blink.
Janet came awake with a shriek, jerking upright in the bed and instantly regretting it. Her world tilted and bucked, her stomach responding as it always did, threatening to heave until she couldn’t breathe. She blinked, trying to slow her breath to normal. Slow and steady, and sometimes she could keep her stomach calm enough.
Her hand ached, and she realized it was because there was a needle in it. The tubes attached to it led up to a small machine hanging over the rail of the bed. An IV pumped something foreign into her body, and her immediate thought was to rip it out of her hand as fast as possible. Get it out, get it out. But strong fingers wrapped around her wrist before she could attempt it.
“No, female.” Smokes’s familiar voice had her blinking away some of the panic. “You have to leave that in. Doc says it’s good for you. Gonna make sure you aren’t dehydrated.”
She found his face in the dimness of the quiet room. Dim, not dark. And she could feel. She wasn’t nothing. Wasn’t a void.
She was awake.
A relieved breath left her chest and Smokes eased her arm to the bed, pushing his chin forward to suggest she lay back. She slumped to the pillow, curling her legs up to keep her stomach steady.
“Where is he, the doctor?” she asked. Her voice was hardly even a rasp, and she cleared her throat to try again. But Smokes had already lifted a straw to her lips for her to drink. It was water, but it tasted funny. Not drugs, her mind prayed. No, he wouldn’t drug her like Bastian had.
“Doc is resting. I gave him my room for the night. Or however long he needs to be around.”
