by J. C. Cliff
The iron gates open up before me, and I drive down into the damp, dark parking lot. I park and dismount my Ducati Monster, and remove my helmet, I leaving it on the seat. No one will bother my shit here. Everything we need to be a self-sustaining operation is here—labs, clinic, cafeteria, exercise rooms, offices, and sleeping quarters. The sleeping quarters are not only for certain staff, but also just in case one of us needs to pull an all-nighter.
Walking up to the metal entrance doors of the facility, I have to punch in a code and swipe my hand over the sensor in order to gain access. I enter the building and make my way to Nick’s office. We have some serious shit to discuss this morning.
When I left her room last night, I was feeling myself melt in front of her, practically becoming a puddle of drool. Everything about her was beginning to affect me. Even battered and bruised, she was beautiful. I could tell she was affected by my close proximity, as well, just by the way she stared at me and the shy gestures she displayed. By the end of the evening, I had her eating out of my hand…literally. When I held her in my arms, she felt so damn right, and I can’t afford to feel things like that.
Aside from her beauty, her strength draws me in like a magnet. It’s hard to believe she had two full-grown men howling in pain during her capture. She seems so fragile on the outside, when in reality, she’s a spunky little shit. When I went into the clinic this afternoon, the nurse was changing out both of the men’s bandages. One of them needed twenty stitches on one hand alone. I smirk at the thought. I would’ve paid to see that…serves him right. They had strict orders not to rough her up; they should have been more prepared. I believe they will howl again once Nick gets ahold of them. I need to keep my eye on this girl, that’s for damn sure.
I can only imagine from her petite body frame that her body is pure sin. Thank God, her body was hiding underneath the blanket. I had a hard enough time sitting next her, holding her, and feeding her. I’ve never gotten such intense urges of desire before, but damn if she didn’t stir something deep inside me.
I’ve also never taken stock in a female’s roller coaster of emotions before. It’s my job to deal with that shit day in and day out, and quite frankly, I don’t even hear half the shit they say anymore. Hell, even when they’re not in captivity, they still send men on a wild fucking goose chase, confusing the hell out of every male on the planet. But Julianna? For some reason, seeing her trembling in pure fear pissed me off. The shock and anxiety wracking her body almost sent me overboard. She literally screams innocence, and the way Nick clambered all over her was a total dick move. It took every trick I had to calm her down.
Damn Nick, he never should have touched her to begin with. She hadn’t even been in the facility for twenty-four hours before Nick put his sick and twisted paws on her. He’s never done that shit before. I’ve also never seen him display the need to dominate someone like that on their first day, let alone torment them before I even had a chance to get their Blyss regulated.
The broken, vacant expression on her face after Nick left had twisted my gut with emotions I hadn’t felt in years, not since the beginning of all this, when I hadn’t been quite so immune to the goings-on of the facility. I had to remind myself to stay detached and unemotional like I’ve trained myself to do, because I’d been seconds away from losing it and snapping Nick’s fucking neck. What the hell was he thinking? Maybe that’s just it—he wasn’t thinking, because none of the women before her seemed to affect Nick, not the way this young woman did.
In addition to talking to him about that, I’d had to answer questions on the fly for her that I knew nothing about. Then, out of the blue, she’d asked about the St. Andrew’s Cross. She’d had no clue what it’s used for, nor what erotic play means. I sure as shit wasn’t going to sit there and tell her Nick is into all that sadistic shit after I had just calmed her down. She’s intelligent and mature for someone her age, but at the same time, she screams innocence and naiveté. So I’m sure as shit getting my questions answered, if for no other reason than to be able to answer hers to make her training process less detrimental.
My job here is a love-hate relationship, and I do it because it’s a means to an end for me. In this profession of female trafficking, there is a constant battle against authorities, and it will be fought until the end of time. Where one sex-trafficking operation gets taken down, another six spring up in its place. This operation I’m involved in, however, is no child’s play; we’re untouchable.
The drugs we use—even though they are still experimental—really do most of the hard work for me, which makes my participation bearable. Granted, every female who has been brought into the facility before her had experienced the same wide range of emotions Julianna had. I can usually ease them into their new lifestyle without a hitch. The trick is to give the drugs a few days to reach their total effectiveness. By the third or fourth day, their minds are ready to be introduced to a new way of thinking--a new way of life--but shit, Nick couldn’t even wait for that.
Nick insists we call the drugs the women receive a medicine, instead of calling it what it really is—an illegal drug, a substance which our genius scientist, Jared, helped create. He’d been working on finding the most perfect-yet-safe illicit drug to use on women as an aphrodisiac…only more. The product of all the research, reformulations, and experimentation had finally resulted in what is now called Blyss.
I round the corner to Nick’s office and start removing my leather jacket. It feels warm in here, or maybe it’s my rising anger as I think about who Julianna is. The fact Nick does business with her father just adds to the pile of complexities here. Hell, the man has definitely gone insane! He must have a fucking death wish. Messing with Lance Oakley can only lead to heaps of shit rolling downhill, and then rolling onto me. I shake my head in frustration at the thought.
Stepping into Nick’s office, I toss my jacket on the chair by the door. He’s here early today—good. “Taking your personal recruits a bit young these days, Nick?” I ask curtly.
He looks up from his computer. “Good morning to you, too, Travis.” He grabs the coffee cup off his desk and takes a sip. “But to answer your question, no. I’m simply taking what’s mine.” His eyebrows rise in authority. “She’ll be twenty-one in less than a week. She’s hardly a child.”
“What the hell, Nick? She’s engaged to somebody else.”
He waves his hand around in the air, dismissing the statement. “She only thinks she’s in love…child’s play, really.” He leans back in his chair, giving me his full attention. “No matter. He’s young enough; he’ll recover and get on with his life.”
“So you thought it was okay to just rip them apart? I don’t see that going down without a fight.”
Nick runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily. “Let’s just say he’s had a little incentive to get on with his own life, okay? If he truly loves her, he will.”
I feel the muscles in my jaw clench as I try to formulate my next question. He still doesn’t know I recognized her when she was brought in, so if he doesn’t come clean with me and tell me she’s Julianna Oakley, it will mean something is off - he’s withholding something from me.
“You hiding something from me, Nick? Care to share, for instance, who this girl is, or why it is you’ve just got to have her specifically?” I wonder if he’s going to try to tell me her dear old dad is just fine and dandy with her new love life.
Nick looks thoughtfully toward the ceiling, as if he has to think about my question. I know better; it’s a bullshit move, and he thinks he can try to placate me. “No, Travis, there’s nothing to hide. I don’t get the twenty questions, though.” His lips thin in annoyance, as do mine.
“How long, Nick? How long have you been planning this, and why wasn’t I privy?” I pointedly ask. I’m getting even more pissed, and I can feel the boiling rage beginning to surface. I take a deep breath. I’ve got to control my emotions. My stonewall face falls naturally back into place. I can’t let myself g
et worked up over this shit for the wrong reasons.
Nick raises an eyebrow and says with growing concern, “Correction, twenty-one questions. Why, Travis? Jealous much?” His body begins to visibly tense, and I can see he’s going on high-alert. I can clearly see the man is hiding information from me, and I know I won’t get anywhere approaching him from this angle, so I back off…for now.
“Hell no, I’m not into owning bitches; you know that. My intuition tells me, however, you’re running rogue here,” I glare accusingly at him, “and I despise surprises, Nick. I won’t be kept in the dark about anything. People get their throats slit when they don’t know who their true enemies are.”
Nick visibly becomes less tense and explains, “Look, the fiancée was given a more-lucrative opportunity elsewhere.”
He shrugs. “With very little persuasion, he decided having his own architecture firm took precedence over his love life.”
“So basically what you mean is, you were going to have the boy killed if he didn’t turn around and silently walk away.” There’s a bite to my voice as I briefly narrow my eyes.
“Very good, Travis.” Nick tilts his head to the side inquisitively. “Why is this so hard for you to comprehend? We do this all the time.”
He keeps trying to get me off track, purposefully misconstruing my questions, and answering me elusively with another subject. I need intel on the Oakleys, what I’m up against, and why he chose to take the daughter of one of the most powerful men I know. That’s the thing about dealing with people in this business—you never know what their true intentions are, and you’re left wondering if you’ll find a knife in your back when you least expect it.
Crossing my arms, I gesture to Nick, lifting my chin with a quick nod. “All right then, let’s talk about your little princess, shall we?”
“What about my little princess, Travis?”
“You screw this shit up, it not only looks bad on me, but it will make a fool of you. Care to tell me what the hell you were thinking when you decided to dominate her last night, before the Blyss has even had time to get regulated in her system?” Pointing my finger at him, I ardently say, “If you don’t diligently dance around her emotions in this first phase, you’re going to create a deep-seated bitterness within her, and that’s something even Blyss won’t be able to quell. She will either fight you at every turn or secretly scheme against you. At the point her subversion becomes apparent, you will be made the laughing stock, the fool. I will not be known as her trainer. You are not going to mar my reputation, just because you can’t control your shit.”
“I get it; I got the picture—“
I interrupt him mid-sentence, “No, I’m not sure you do, Nick. Imagine wanting to take her somewhere public as your piece of arm candy, and she goes AWOL. How do you think that will look on our business, our drugs, our training?” I arch a brow accusingly and watch as he shrinks back a bit, looking guilty. “Do you now understand why it is we don’t let clients visit their newly-acquired merchandise before we’re done with them? You need to back the fuck off.”
Nick raises his palms in surrender, attempting to ward off my escalating anger. “All right, man, I get it. I got out of hand. It won’t happen again.” He shakes his head, running his hands through his hair again. “You’re right; I can’t afford to screw this one up. I just got a little excited and couldn’t help myself.”
I half-laugh at his absurd wordage. “A little excited? Well, tell me then, how do you expect to contain yourself next time, Nick? I mean, not unless you want to be the one to train her after she’s had a colossal mind fuck…bestowing more damage on her than you already have, that is.”
He briefly closes his eyes, clenching his jaw, and goes silent for a moment. He then taps his forefinger against his lips, coming to a conclusion. “I’ll tell you what; I won’t even come around until her surprise birthday party this Saturday.”
“What the fuck?!” I blurt out. Has he lost his mind? “Again, when were you going to tell me? I got to know this shit. Am I her fucking trainer or not, Nick?” I bellow incredulously. “I don’t give a shit who trains her, but if it’s me, you make damn sure I not only know about all your shit, but you’ve got to stop intervening.” I pause for effect as renewed rage courses through me. In anger, I slam my hand down on his desk with a loud bang, almost making his coffee cup spill over. “Don’t fuck with my reputation, Nick.”
At my final words, a deafening silence ensues. He has a decision to make, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. We’re in a stare down, and the first one to speak is the one who blinked.
Nick gnaws on the inside of his cheek and nods his head slowly in thought. “I need you to train her,” he admits with resolve. “I have every confidence in your abilities. I know your track record for keeping these women submissive to their masters, even years later. They stay faithful, even when it’s a piece-of-shit master who controls them. I need that,” Nick emphasis by pounding his forefinger on his desk, “because this girl is my forever, and I need it done right.”
It’s evident I’m still pissed, but I give him a curt nod. “All right, Nick, but if you want this done right, you can’t get personal. It will make for a more difficult time, not only for me, but for everyone involved. Every time you step in the wrong direction with her, the longer the transition period will be. You get me?”
He nods his head in acknowledgment and grabs his coffee to take a sip. He doesn’t like eating crow. Well, tough shit. I relax a little knowing he wants me to train her. It will buy me some time to figure out what the hell is going on with this new obsession of his.
Our conversation is interrupted by a subtle knock on Nick’s office door. I turn and see Jared, who’s standing in the open doorway with his knuckles still resting on the door. He appears to be reluctant to step in, which means he most likely heard the arguing. “Is everything okay, guys?” he asks warily.
Nick pipes in, wanting our discussion to be closed. “Yeah, we’re done. We were just talking about room seven’s needs.”
“Yeah? How’s she doing?”
I chuckle as I speak to Jared while staring Nick down. “Well, she’s quite the little hellcat.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Nick mumbles and moves some papers around on his desk.
Jared must feel it’s safe to come into the room now, since the dissension in the air has calmed down. He’s walked in on Nick and me in a heated argument before and wound up in the crossfire. He’s not cut out for conflict of any kind. He can’t handle all the guts and glory on our side of the business. He’s a science geek, and he’s damn brilliant. Jared heads straight for the refreshment cart, and I shake my head. I don’t know how he stays so damn skinny; he eats doughnuts and other junk foods constantly.
I move to the credenza on the far side of the wall and grab a mug. I begin making myself a cup of coffee because I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.
“On a different note, we’ve acquired a new client, Craig Reynolds,” Nick says. Mr. Reynolds already put down his deposit for us to begin extrapolating his newly purchased pet from the real world. I figure after you’ve set things up, it will take about three weeks before our men have her captured, brought back here to the facility, and be ready for training.”
“What about the victim?” I ask, slipping into an overstuffed chair in front of Nick’s desk. “Any complications I need to handle—boyfriend, fiancé…?” I ask, exaggerating the last word before trailing off and giving Nick the stink eye.
Nick ignores the jibe. “No, she’s been too focused on finishing her master’s and getting her foot in the door with a prestigious firm. She hasn’t had time for one.” He takes a sip of coffee and then eyes me down for a moment in silence. “I will need you to take a trip in about two weeks to begin tracking this girl’s movements, setting the stage for our men to follow her, and then go meet with Mr. Reynolds afterwards.”
“Isn’t that when the monthly formal dinner takes place?”
&
nbsp; “Yes, but this is more important. I need you there,” Nick says briskly.
“Why don’t you reschedule it? I have been to every one of these formal events. This is not a good idea; you’d be down one man, not to mention I still have a livewire in room seven to contend with.”
“No can do,” Nick shakes his head. “Everything is already confirmed and set up with Reynolds.”
The bastard—he wants me out of the picture so he can have Julianna all to himself, without me interfering, but he’ll only wind up messing with her mind some more. His scheming plan is written all over his face. Once a month, we hold a formal dinner upstairs in the hotel’s main ballroom. It gives us an opportunity to test the women’s loyalty, an experiment to see how each captive behaves in mixed company, if she’s truly accepted her new role, or if she’ll try and bolt for the door. Of course, there is no way out, and security is always doubled upstairs.
The room falls silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts until Jared pipes in out of nowhere. “Well, would you like my report on deductive and inductive reasoning regarding the—“
Nick immediately cuts him off, “No, and hell no.” He holds out his hands in a stopping motion. Jared is one smart motherfucker, but he doesn’t have the first clue of how to communicate. He can only think in scientific reasoning, and Nick has no patience for it.
Nick then turns his attention back to me and asks, “Where are we with the new implant chips?”
I clear my throat, wiping the grin off my face that had formed from their exchange. “One of the biggest hurdles right now is we’re waiting for the company to finish perfecting the GPS receiver chips. They do have some working models, but they’re still undergoing extensive testing.”
