“I try not to think about it.” I hated to admit it, but I liked Chris. He was honest and respectful.
Annie returned carrying three plates, like a waitress. She placed a burger in front of me, and Gabriel climbed into my lap.
I took a bite. It tasted great, but there was one problem. “Did you order me a veggie burger?”
“That’s the only kind of burger they have. This place is vegetarian.”
Figured. I was not cut out for the surfer lifestyle.
“So, are you guys best friends yet?” Annie teased.
Chris dug his fork into some kind of weird grainy salad. Quinoa? Bulgur? No clue. “You bet. Hey, do you think you could ever give me a tour of the base? I’d love to see the obstacle course.”
“Sure, buddy.” This guy was more of a fan than a threat. I was glad I met him.
“See? I knew you two would hit it off.”
The rest of the lunch was uneventful. Chris talked about some surf competition he’d entered; I guess the guy was pretty good. Seeing them together gave me a small glimpse of who Annie had been before she’d been taken: carefree, laid back, and sweet. She had probably been the type of girl who would’ve never even considered dating a SEAL.
Annie went back into the café to get some boxes.
Chris stood up. “Nice meeting you, Pat. If you ever need anything, let me know. And I’ll always be here for Annie, even when you’re gone. But you don’t have to worry about us hooking up. I’d never do that to you. Seriously, dude. You finding her was the best thing that ever happened to me. You not only gave Annie her life back, you gave me back mine.”
“I’ll have a beer with you anytime, Chris. And let me know when you want to see the base.”
“I will. That would be awesome. Hit me up if you ever want to ride the waves with me.”
I had no desire to learn. I’d never surfed, and I spent enough time in the water. But, I’d try anything once. “Sounds good. Later, bro.”
Annie walked back out of the café, carrying a paper bag. “Bye, Chris.”
They hugged again and I stared at Trigger. Friends. That’s all they were.
We climbed into my truck and Annie had a big grin on her face.
“What?”
“I knew you’d like him.”
“He’s cool. Different than how I thought he’d be.”
“See?” She rubbed my thigh. “I told you nothing was going on.”
We backed out of the parking lot, and drove away. She squeezed my hand.
Later that night, after Gabriel went to sleep, Annie cuddled up to me. “I’ll tell you what happened.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“No. I want to. I’m calm now. I just have to separate the experience from myself, you know? I have to be in the right state of mind to talk about it.”
I nodded. Looking in her eyes would make this conversation too painful. For her. For me.
She took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. “About two years after I was taken, these two American men came to the brothel. Not the same one you met me at, but a different one in Aruba. They were in their mid-thirties, one guy had brown hair and one guy was a redhead.”
Holy shit. My muscles quivered. Dave was right. I didn’t want Annie to see any reaction from me. “Go on.”
“Well, the first time they showed up, they chose two other girls. But I swear to God they both recognized me. When you picked me, you barely gave me a second glance, but the pimp allowed customers to ‘check out the merchandise’. The redhead got right in my face, as he walked down the line. Looked straight at me, even stared at my ankle, like he was looking for my tattoo, you know? I thought for sure he was going to pick me that night, but he didn’t. Around a week later they returned, but this time they chose Nicole and me. We’d been picked together before, sickos wanting to watch some girl on girl action. We were both cautious yet hopeful, thinking maybe they would recognize us. I mean, they were American.”
I ground my teeth. This was almost unreal.
“We went back to the room. They didn’t talk, just kind of motioned at us what they wanted us to do. To each other. Then to both of them.” Her hands made fists. I wanted to take my gun out and shoot something. “So after that, they just kind of lay there. They didn’t bolt like most guys do.” She pointed at me.
Guilty.
“So, I thought they recognized us. I was so excited and still had hope back then. I opened my mouth to tell them our names, but Nicole stopped me. She didn’t want to get in trouble. I didn’t care. Nicole had this look of sheer terror. The redhead, I remember, took this long, like, pained breath. I thought for sure he knew our stories, who we were. But the other man, he was really cold. He stood up and they left. The redhead looked back at me when he left the room and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’ I knew he recognized me. I was so positive he was going to come back. And I guess I’d even convinced Nicole we were going to be rescued. That at least they would share the sighting with my folks, and someone would come save us.”
My ears pounded. These motherfuckers, possibly former SEALs, found these two Americans there, and left them to die! They couldn’t be SEALs; we were bound to a higher code.
Granted, I clearly didn’t always live my life with uncompromising integrity. But I couldn’t fathom these men leaving these girls, knowing they were trafficked.
Her hand was shaking now. “But after six months, nothing. I was so fucking mad at them. I mean, why couldn’t they tell someone? This was my life that had been stolen. I was a sex slave. How could they recognize us and do nothing? And I was pissed at myself for believing I would be saved. Nicole lost it. I mean, she went crazy. Started mouthing off to the pimps, refusing clients, even begging for extra heroin. I pleaded with her to stay strong. We would find a way out. Somehow. Someday. Together. But she wanted to die. She stole my drugs, and some from a few other girls and shot herself up. And I wanted to die, too. But I had Gabriel. I had to hope for him. I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself. Why me? Of all the girls who got drunk on spring break, why me? Then I remembered years ago hearing about a girl who had been kidnapped for ten years and escaped. It was possible. So why should I give up? I had to get out—for me, for Gabriel, for Nicole. I had a life to live. I had to survive no matter what. That’s when I made the decision not to give up. The next time I met a man who I even thought could save me, I would take the chance. Risk it all.”
I held her, stroked her forehead. “Thanks for telling me. It means a lot to me. I’m not going to leave you, Annie. I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re my hero.”
We didn’t talk for the remainder of the night. Yet, my thoughts raced. There was no more doubt. I was one hundred percent committed to Annie. Committed to making her happy.
But I still didn’t have the entire story straight. Who were these men, who hired them, and why did they leave the two girls behind, when they were completely capable of saving them?
The only thing I was sure of was I wouldn’t rest until I found out what the fuck was going on.
33
Annie
WHY DID PAT WANT TO know? What was he up to?
No one knew what happened in the brothel. I hadn’t uttered a word, besides that basic timeline and facts to anyone. Not my parents, not my therapist. Not even Pat. My father had convinced me that sharing my sob story would turn me into a media target, endanger my life and the life of my child. Reporters, photographers would stalk me. People in the grocery store would look at me with a combination of disgust and pity. Gabriel would be ostracized at school—teased for what his father had done to me.
But was my father right?
I felt free, liberated. Telling Pat gave me a sense of strength. Healing.
I couldn’t keep these secrets bottled up inside me. I had to tell my story. Maybe it would help people. Women, make them more cautious on vacation. Or if an innocent girl heard my story today, maybe one day if she had the misfortune of ever being
kidnapped, she would remember hearing my story. My words, my rescue, my hope. I remember hearing about other women captives that had been freed. Their stories kept me going when I’d lost my way. If my story could do that for one woman, it would be worth it.
But I couldn’t. My mouth was bound, I was gagged. Just how I had been in the brothel. But not by my captor. No. By my father. I didn’t want to disgrace him further. It was bad enough that people thought I’d run away, and that fake story had quickly died down in the media. The truth, though, would make me a household name. And my infamy would never go away.
But it wasn’t about me. I had to think about Gabriel. My parents. And even Pat. Yes, oh God. Pat. I couldn’t let his story get out. It would ruin his career. Hiring me at the brothel, going rogue to save me. His face and name would be splashed all over the tabloids. And it would ruin any chance of us finding happiness together. Nothing was worth that risk.
I loved him, he said he loved me. And he loved my son.
One day, I would tell my truth. Maybe years from now, when Gabriel was grown, when my parents had passed, when Pat had retired. But for now, my story will remain buried deep inside my head, my heart, my soul.
34
Patrick
I TOLD ANNIE I HAD to work the next day. I headed back to Kyle’s house, but this time, instead of Sara opening the door, I was greeted by Vic.
“Hey, man, come inside. I think we’ve got something.”
I followed Vic back to Kyle’s office. Kyle was in Intel and made mission plans like they were football plays—there were pictures, diagrams, timelines, and maps. Luckily, his security clearance gave him access to SEAL service records.
I sat on one of the chairs. “What do we have?”
Kyle looked up at me. “Well, I made a list of all men who left the Teams in the last five years. Then I eliminated all the men who went into non-security-related careers. I was left with one hundred and forty-three names. They were spread out among different countries, different states, and different contractors. There were only three gingers. Two of them still work at their security companies, but one of them worked for Neptune Group. He left his security detail around three years ago.”
“Six months after he found Annie.”
“Exactly. Name is Matt Houston. I asked some buddies who knew him, looks like he checked into drug rehab. And get this, he lives in Poway.”
Vic jumped in. “And we’re meeting him for lunch in an hour. I fed him some bullshit that I’m thinking about contributing to a foundation for fallen SEALs. He ate it up. Was happy to meet with some Team guys.”
Brilliant. Team guys always welcomed meetings from fellow Frogs, even if they had never met before. That was one of the benefits of being part of the best fraternity in the world.
We headed inland in Kyle’s Black Cadillac Escalade Hybrid. I texted Annie to see how she was doing. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before I had to deploy, but I needed to find out the truth.
Matt had recommended we meet at Brothers Provisions, a sandwich shop which served craft beer on tap in Rancho Bernardo, a town next to Poway.
As we approached, I scanned the patio. I recognized him immediately. Red hair, still built, looked hardened. I didn’t care if he was a Team guy—I wanted to kill this motherfucker for fucking my girl and leaving her to die.
“Hey, Matt. I’m Pat, this is Kyle and this is Vic.” I reached out my hand, but he didn’t take it. His hands had an unsteady twitch, and he was rattling his keys.
He nodded his head, and we all went inside to order sandwiches and beers. Back out on the patio, we made small talk—Teams we’d been on, guys we both knew, and deployments.
He took a sip of his beer, and his eyes shifted back and forth. “I need to hit the head.”
He stood up and went inside the shop. Barely a few seconds had passed when an older-model black Ford truck barreled out of the parking lot. He’d been on to us.
We didn’t speak; we knew what to do. I threw down some money for a tip and we hightailed it into Kyle’s Escalade.
I could see Matt’s truck entering I-15 Freeway going south.
Kyle chased him down the freeway, dodging in and out of cars. Matt didn’t slow down. Where the fuck was he going?
I didn’t have time for this shit. He slowed to enter the 56 West and I took out my pistol, leaned out the window and shot out his back right tire.
He pulled to the shoulder of the freeway, Kyle’s Escalade right behind him.
I saw him reach toward his glove compartment. This motherfucker was going to kill himself. Or us.
We all jumped out to the car, our weapons ready.
I approached the vehicle. He had the gun aimed right at me. “You have about ten seconds to unfuck yourself, Matt. Put down the gun. We’re not here to kill you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
He kept the gun steady. “He sent you. I didn’t talk to anyone.”
“No one sent us. We’re the ones who saved Annie. We did some digging. We just want to talk to you.”
With three guns pointed at his head, he didn’t have much choice. Kyle disarmed Matt without a struggle. I slid into the passenger seat of his truck and handed Matt’s keys to Kyle. I told Vic to get Matt’s spare tire out just in case a cop drove by and thought we looked suspicious. Kyle stood guard on the side of Matt’s truck.
I needed some answers. “Start talking, asshole. Why did you leave her there?”
He blinked. The creases around his burdened eyes were so deep they looked as if they had been beveled with a blade. “First off, it’s not my fault, man. I tried to save her. You have to know that. It started out like a standard job. Missing girl, possibly trafficked. Go to the island and see if she’s alive, if you can find her.”
“Who hired you?”
“Her father. Paid three hundred thousand dollars. Taylor, another former Team guy, and I volunteered. Seemed like a piece of cake—go hang out on Aruba for a month, all expenses paid, drink, snorkel, rescue a girl, and come home. We went down there, started fishing around. Asking locals. Visiting brothels. We had a tip a girl who matched Annie’s description was at this one brothel. We cased the place. The first time we went in, our only goal was to see if we thought it was her, identify the tattoo and see what kind of shape she was in. The minute I saw her, I was positive it was Annie. Her hazel eyes, hair, tattoo, scar, and height. But we were ordered by our bosses to pick other girls that first night and not her.”
His eyes focused ahead on some red lights from a construction truck. I tapped him over the head to get him to keep talking.
“I was so fucking stoked that day . . . to think I’d found this kidnapped girl and we’d be bringing her home in a week or so. The girl she was with, Nicole, we didn’t even know she was there. That was a stroke of luck finding her. Of course, we’d read about her disappearance in Aruba, and we knew about her. I thought I’d be a fucking hero—saving two Americans. Collect her reward, too.”
Cars whizzed by on the freeway. I looked in the rear view mirror, and Vic had the car jack out. “So what the fuck happened? Why did you leave her there?”
“I didn’t have a fucking choice. We did some more searching, about the brothel, the pimp, and the dancer who took her. Surveillance on Annie. At night, after all the clients left, she had a baby with her. Cute little boy, around six months old or so. We checked in with our bosses, after we found her in the brothel and they reported back to her father about Annie and the baby. We had a conference call with the motherfucker. He asked me how certain I was it was her, if she looked high, her demeanor, what she was wearing. I told him I’d bet my Trident it was his daughter. She was definitely a heroin user. I saw tracks on her arms when the pimp let me check her out. Then he asked me about the baby. If I was certain he was her son. I told him I couldn’t be one hundred percent, but she saw him every night and I thought he was hers.”
He turned to me, his eyes almost tearful. “As long as I live, I will never forget the next wo
rds out of his mouth. ‘Leave her there. Forget you ever saw her. With any luck, she’ll overdose soon.’”
My pulse quickened, and I wanted to shoot this motherfucker and save a bullet for Annie’s dad. Gabriel was in danger. I was a professional warrior; I knew how to control my emotions. But this was unbelievable. What if her father had a plot to get rid of him, destroy any proof of Annie’s past? I had to get Annie and Gabriel away from her family.
“Believe me, man. I begged him to reconsider. I told him we could detox her, and she’d be hailed as a survivor. And with therapy she could integrate back into society. He wouldn’t consider it. He firmly reminded me of the one million dollar non-disclosure agreement I’d signed. I didn’t have a fucking choice. I haven’t ever told anyone, until today. You can’t tell anyone—we have an unbreakable code.”
“I won’t.” He was right. We would never repeat what he was telling us to anyone. Especially since he knew we’d been the ones to rescue Annie. He could ruin our careers. If I hadn’t told him, he would’ve never talked to me. I needed to know the truth about Annie’s dad.
“I racked my brain, thinking of anything I could do to save her. Go rogue; convince my partner to back me. But he wouldn’t even discuss it, and I couldn’t do it myself. We were ordered to go back a final time to verify with one hundred percent certainty that it was Annie. Which we did.”
He paused and I wondered if he was reminiscing about fucking Annie, remembering her and Nicole going to town on each other. His own personal porno. I watched Matt’s thin lips and I pictured them all over Annie’s body. Her stroking his limp dick. My hand was on the trigger of my gun.
Give me an excuse to kill you motherfucker.
“Leaving them in that room was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Knowing I’d found them, but was abandoning them to die. I told the girls I was sorry, and walked out the door. When I returned to the States, I finished my remaining contracts and quit. I couldn’t work with people with no integrity. Private contract work is nothing like being in the Teams. There’s no morals, no law.”
BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Page 30
