Then she walked back to the bed and sat down to wait. Her fingers wriggled against the mattress, checking her location against the rip holding the precious scissors.
Closing her eyes, she pictured her mom and dad, long gone now. Greg. Too handsome for his own good, stubborn, intractable, bossy, caring, sweet, protective, Greg. Emotion pinched her heart.
Ally sighed with longing. Sure, he’d trample her poor, chubby heart to smithereens. She didn’t care. Besides, she’d already surrendered to the inevitability of loving him.
The lock clicked open and her muscles cramped. Her moment of reckoning had arrived. Quickly, she pressed her back to the headboard, wrapped her arms around her chest to cover as much as possible of her breasts and crossed her legs tight at the ankle.
Alone as Jia Li promised, Victor strode into the room without stopping to lock the door behind him. Either he thought she was suitably cowed or he was confident in his ability to control her. Deliberately, she relaxed without changing position, one muscle at a time forced into submission. She would never survive the tension otherwise.
“Good morning.” Victor’s cold gaze moved over her. The unholy gleam in his eyes made her womb shrivel up and hide.
“Yes. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” Retreat into sarcasm worked for her. “I so enjoyed the beautiful sunrise over the city.”
His lips curved in a horrid smile. “I’m glad to see you still have spiri’. It will make this so much more enjoyable.”
He looked over his shoulder, made a hand gesture at the wall and pointed toward the hallway. She frowned. Why? He faced her again and she stilled in momentary shock. The camera. Victor had just instructed them to turn off the camera. Or at least leave it unmanned and exit the small room on the other side of the panel. She was free to carry out her plan uninterrupted.
He moved closer and her momentary elation dissipated into a shiver of revulsion. Repulsive lust lit his eyes. She tensed, waiting for him to leap on her. Instead, he sat beside her and casually dropped his hand on her silk-encased leg. As if he had the right. Fury bubbled beneath Ally’s eerie calm.
“Beau’iful lingerie never fails to arouse me.”
Gross.
His hand moved to her knee, sliding over the stocking to her thigh. Thankful for the thin separation of fifteen denier between her skin and his, she narrowed her eyes and focused on keeping her breathing even. Closer, he had to be much closer before she attempted anything.
He shifted farther up the mattress, beside her hip. His hand touched the top of her bare thigh. Ally’s muscles coiled in preparation.
Her palpable tension seemed to please him. Despite her concentrated efforts not to, from the corner of her eye she noticed his visible arousal. Mouth dry, throat convulsing, she remained still.
Freakishly soft fingers skimmed her pelvis before covering her belly. She trembled. He smiled. The sick pervert was having a grand time.
Maybe she should aim for his joystick. Put him out of commission and do women everywhere a huge favor.
“You have beautiful skin, doll-face.”
Grinning, he yanked her down flat on the mattress. Her body covered the rip, hiding her only means of self-defense and sheer, unadulterated panic surged through her. Her brain fogged.
She lashed out, hitting him with her fists and trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
The sick freak laughed and jumped on top of her. He grabbed her wrists and anchored them over her head in one hand, his grip so hard her fingers stung. His erection pressed against her and she screamed.
“Music to my ears,” Ally heard him say through the haze of terror.
His lips cruised over her neck as she strained away from him. He bit and sucked, and her skin crawled with revulsion. She lurched upward into a hard arch, trying to fling him off. He groaned and rubbed his erection against her.
Sliding down, he nudged aside the flimsy bra, licked her nipple and bit down. Pain crashed through her and she bowed off the bed, her scream echoing in the room.
Fighting her fear, she pushed through the veil of pain. Instinct demanded she withdraw to the safe place in her mind. Common sense said otherwise. She could not slip away or she'd be trapped in this hell forever.
Victor lifted off her slightly, glanced down her body and groaned. She followed his gaze. What few clothes she’d been wearing had shifted in their struggle, spreading her thighs and baring her pelvis completely. Degradation burned. He licked his lips, released one of her wrists and slid his fingers into her most intimate folds.
Closing her mind to what was happening to her body, she reached under her back and fumbled for the rip in the mattress. Tears ran down her temples and into her hair as she searched, fingers trembling. Victor moved to her other breast. He viciously bit the tender underside of her breast, ripping another scream from her.
Sobbing, she found the hole and curled her fingers around the small scissors. Heart thundering, she clutched them.
Ally drew a mental picture of his anatomy and calculated the best place to strike. She would have to touch him to make sure. Steeling her nerves against the revulsion racing through her, she pressed her fingertips to his chest. He didn’t even seem to notice while she counted ribs.
Arriving at the location she sought, she maneuvered the sharp point of the scissors into place. She braced her palm over the handles and with a deep breath pushed, putting all her terror, pain and fear into it.
Victor screamed and rose above her on his knees. She followed and gave one more vicious shove, forcing the handles to follow the tip between his ribs. He gasped and his eyes rolled back into his head. He started to fall on top of her, but she used his momentum to propel him off the bed and onto the floor.
A dull satisfying crack echoed in the room as his head made contact with the cement floor. She flew off the bed, panting, adrenaline racing through her veins. Whether she’d killed or only temporarily incapacitated him, Ally didn’t dare hang around to find out. She spun away but paused. The opportunity was too much to resist. Drawing back her bare foot, she kicked him in the balls as hard as she could.
Damn, that hurt.
Yanking the door open, she stuck her head out and looked up and down before creeping out into the long hallway.
Biting her lip, she beat back the urge to run, screaming and sobbing like an asylum escapee. Close to the wall, she moved as fast as she dared, shoving her inadequate bra cups back into place with trembling hands. Her knees were like Jell-O and her head swam.
She reached a stairway and went up, grateful she wasn’t wearing the heels Victor had forced onto her feet yesterday.
Pausing on the next level, Ally searched the shadows. Nothing moved and her nerves jangled. In a building filled with unwilling sex slaves and who knew what else, the stark silence and empty hallways were eerie. She licked her lips and started down the long hall.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember how many flights of stairs they’d gone down. Panting with fear, strung out on adrenaline overload, Ally passed numerous doors and wondered how many women lived in this house of horrors.
Another staircase. The lack of consistency in the building’s floor plan made it harder to focus and harder to decipher the layout.
Ally climbed up to yet another long hallway. At the head of the stairs, she paused and sidled into deep shadows to catch her breath. Her breathing was coming too fast and she struggled to calm down, to shut out the danger and her fear.
Leaning against the cool wall, she focused on deep, even breathing. She didn’t dare close her eyes and refused to count the passing seconds. Her racing heart slowed along with her respiration rate, and she started moving again. A sigh of relief escaped when she reached the end of the hall. Hand on the rail, foot on the first step, she paused—if only she could remember how many stairs Victor had dragged her down.
A big hand clamped over her mouth, a muscled arm clamped around her bare belly and her feet left the stairs as she was yanked into the dark recesses beside
the stairwell and held fast against a hard body. What little composure she’d regained fled like seagulls before a hurricane; her vision went black with terror and she screamed.
Chapter Fourteen
His hand muffled what should have been ear-shattering shrieks. Ally fought and squirmed in his grip, jabbing her elbows back. She made contact and a satisfying grunt of pain followed.
“Damn, you have pointy elbows, Ally.” The steel band around her body tightened. “Calm down, sweetheart. Shhhh.”
Warm breath ruffled the damp hair alongside her face as he whispered in her ear and rubbed her arm. Greg’s low voice and familiar touch popped her bubbling panic and she sagged against him.
He soothed her, his touch and scent so reassuring tears stung her eyes. “That’s right. Just breathe. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
No. She wouldn’t be safe until she was far, far away from this place.
A door slammed somewhere in the building, followed by a shout. Fear sprang back to life with fangs and Ally whimpered.
“It’s okay, baby.”
By increments, he eased his hold on her, as if afraid she’d collapse. When she stood on her own, he took her hand.
“All right. Follow me and stick close to the walls.”
Staring at his back, she did exactly that. He’d found her. Braved the lion’s den to rescue her. Her heart swelled.
Shouts and thuds followed them as they raced through the maze of hallways and stairs. Down a long hallway, Ally spotted light ahead. Brilliant, beautiful, natural sunlight.
Her eyes widened. Men slinked past in the opposite direction wearing black vests buckled over their chests with big black guns cradled in their arms. Greg had brought the troops to rescue her. Thick emotion tightened her throat.
The men stalked like silent predators down each side of the dim corridor. One of them turned, gave her a quick salute and grinned.
She and Greg burst out the door. Ally closed her eyes against the blinding sunshine, tripped and slammed into Greg. He swore beneath his breath and swept her up into his arms.
She hid her face against his neck. Buried alive came the closest to describing the feeling. Surely months had passed in the interim.
Squinting, she raised her head to stare at the building looming over them. Greg’s long stride carried them across the street and out of its menacing shadow. He sat her on the crisp sheet of a stretcher and someone draped a warm blanket over her bare shoulders.
His eyes narrowed, clouding with concern. The hot sting of shame swept over her and she turned away, closing her eyes against his scrutiny.
Greg gently tugged the blanket closed. “You had me worried.”
Sighing, she looked at him. “Sorry.” Unsure what else to say, she stared at her lap.
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” Outside the open rear doors of the ambulance, people hurried past. Ally’s head throbbed. Had everyone gotten out of the building? “What’s going on?”
“We’re taking apart Victor’s little business. If I had my way, it would be brick by brick.” His mouth tightened to a grim line. “And limb by limb.”
She appreciated—and shared—the sentiment.
“What’s going to happen to the women?” She fiddled with the edge of the blanket.
“That depends. It will take time to sort everyone out and find out who belongs where. I imagine some will be in desperate need of medical attention.”
Ally nodded, fighting back visions of the violence she’d witnessed. “There was a beautiful Oriental woman. She helped me. Her name is Jia Li. I wouldn’t have…” She paused, swallowing hard. “I don’t think I would have survived without her.”
Greg’s fists clenched. “I’ll ask around.” He hesitated. “Ally, I…” He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Damn, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you in time. Tracking down Victor’s holdings, finding the right one and getting a warrant took so long. Too long.” His chest expanded and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you tell me what happened in there, sweetheart? Did anyone…Were you…Ah, hell.”
Nausea swirled through her with the realization of what he was asking. She’d lived with the horrid possibility for three days, but her worst fears had gone unrealized. Fragmented light spilled through her badly tarnished thoughts. “I wasn’t raped.”
His head snapped up and he stared hard at her, took a step forward, stopped and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. More light spilled into her, dispelling the gloom. Hope.
“Greg, would you hold me? Please?”
He closed the space between them in a blink and eased her into his arms like she was made of spun glass. She closed her eyes and snuggled into his embrace. He felt so good. Smelled so good. The horror of her captivity receded. The memories weren’t gone by any stretch, and likely wouldn’t be for a long time, but they were less stark.
She’d missed him so much. Her belly tightened. So not panic-worthy. Get a grip. If he stomped all over her heart, she’d survive and be stronger for it. Just like she had survived the last few days.
Ally opened her eyes and looked at his shirt fisted in her hands. Hands covered in Victor’s blood. She gasped and jerked back, but the damage had been done. He had bloody prints on his shirt.
Greg stared at her, as if he could see right through her, into her. He glanced at his shirt. She flinched. After everything she’d witnessed inside that hell-hole, she didn’t want him seeing the evidence of what she’d been reduced to. Turning her face away, she squeezed her eyes shut against the hot sting of tears. A few escaped anyway.
“Baby.” His thumb followed the damp trail down her cheek. “It’s okay. The paramedic will clean you up while I try to find Jia Li for you.” He turned her back to face him, but she kept her gaze focused on her lap. Sighing, he released her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He jumped down with the ease of a natural athlete and disappeared around the side. A rush of emotion slammed into her like a tsunami and her shoulders drooped. The interior of the ambulance was all sparkling and sanitary. Her wavy reflection in the cabinet caught her eye; a motley of blue, green and yellow, with a few ragged cuts thrown in for interest. She grimaced.
A package of wet wipes sat on the narrow bench beside the gurney. She roughly scrubbed her hands, front and back and in between her fingers. The large wipes turned pink, then dirty brown. There was even blood under a few of her fingernails. She scrubbed those clean too. If only the memories could be scrubbed away so easily.
Snapshots of the past few days swarmed. Her throat closed and her vision swam.
Greg reappeared as Ally debated the merits of a full blown melt-down, so handsome it hurt to look at him. He grinned and stepped aside.
“Jia Li!”
“You did it.” Jia Li clasped her hands in front of her, looking two seconds away from bowing. “We all free now. You did it.”
“You did it too.” Ally reached out her hand, and Jia Li clambered into the ambulance and sat beside her. Jia Li didn’t take her hand, keeping her own tightly clasped in her lap.
Greg leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms.
Jia Li shook her head. “I do nothing.”
“That’s not true.” Ally leaned forward, intent on making Jia Li see the part she had played in freeing herself. “You had the courage to give me those scissors. I would never have gotten past Victor without your help.”
Jia Li shivered. Ally badly wanted to hug the woman, to share her pain and offer comfort. She refrained. From her own short experience in the hell-hole, she knew Jia Li wouldn’t be comfortable with casual physical contact. Instead, she poured her heart into her words.
“You are a remarkably brave woman, you know.”
Jia Li’s demure posture remained unchanged.
Ally fought a frustrated sigh as she met Greg’s eyes.
“You must be one strong lady,” Greg said.
Jia Li glanced at his face before focusing on a spo
t over his shoulder.
“There’s a reward on Victor’s head. Sounds to me like you were instrumental in his capture and deserve the money.”
Ally’s eyes widened and Greg winked at her. Light pink suffused Jia Li’s cheeks, a sparkle lit her blue eyes and her slender shoulders straightened. The dawning of hope.
Greg had given Jia Li the means to start a new life. Except, there wasn’t a reward. Or there hadn’t been. With absolute certainty, Ally knew the reward money would be coming from Greg’s personal account. Beaten and bruised, sitting in the back of an ambulance in slutty underwear and a scratchy wool blanket, Ally lost the last piece of her heart.
A commotion across the street drew Ally’s gaze, but Greg blocked her view before she could see what was going on. She frowned and met his gaze just as a vulgar curse spoken with a familiar lisp colored the air. Light-headed with dismay, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Victor is still alive.” Her voice sounded flat, even to her.
Greg sighed and touched two fingertips to her cheek. “You don’t want his death on your conscious, sweetheart. No matter what he did, it’s a heavy weight to carry.”
After seeing Jia Li safely off, Greg whisked Ally to a downtown boutique hotel and took her painfully given statement before disappearing. Taking care of police business. The flash of big hulking male hovering outside her door when he left reassured her she’d be safe in his absence.
After wandering aimlessly through the ridiculously large suite, Ally sank into the whirlpool tub in the bathroom and scrubbed away the memories and humiliation until her skin was rosy. Steam rose. The citrus oil she’d poured into the water scented the air. The hot water numbed her skin and soothed her muscles, melting away her assorted aches and pains.
She rested her head against the tub pillow and closed her eyes. The past several days seemed more nightmare than reality. Unwilling to dwell on them, she shoved the unpleasant memories aside.
Pounding on the bathroom door woke her.
“Ally? You okay? Ally!”
Sweet Deception Page 15
