There’s silence on the other end. I wait for her to flip out, but instead, she hangs up. I blow out a breath and shake my head.
Without thinking about it, I plan a trip to New York and get ready to head out.
***
When I walk into the state-of-the-art facility that the Briggs train in, I look around at all the new recruits. Some look focused, others are smiling. It seems they are adjusting fine to this new change.
A group of young girls and boys are on some mats, listening intently to Kelly Briggs. God, they’re so young, ranging from six to twelve. Most people would wonder why we didn’t just take them home to their families.
It’s because these are all the kids that were sold into trafficking by their families. If we took them back, they’d only be sold again.
It’s a shit life, but Nate did his research and that’s the stories he found. They’ll have a much better life here. In time, they will be given the option to go out in the world or stay and do what they’re being trained to do.
“Good to see you, John,” Bobby says as he walks over to me. I reach out for his hand and he pulls me into a one-armed hug.
“Good to see you too.”
“I wanted to thank you guys for helping with all of this. We were able to help a lot of people and put a few behind bars,” he says.
“Yeah, but they got away with a few. You didn’t get Sidorov?”
“Oh, we got him. However, his right hand did get away with a few girls.” Bobby frowns.
“Tough shit to swallow,” I mutter.
“Yes, it is.”
“Those are babies. How could their own families sell them to those monsters?”
“You’d be surprised. Some do it to eat the next day, some because they have too many mouths to feed or…” He pauses and shakes his head. “So many reasons. Not the world you and I know.”
That’s when she appears out of nowhere. The glare in her eyes says a million words. I look down at her, she looks better. She could still stand to gain more weight, but she looks healthier.
I have to keep from reaching out to tug her toward me for a hug. I don’t know where the urge comes from. I’m glad to see she’s up and moving, but it’s more than that. It’s more of a pull I feel in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to shield her in my arms.
It’s the same pull from that night. I wanted to hold her near and ensure she was okay then. It’s twice as strong now.
“Where’d you come from?” she asks in an accusatory tone.
“Home,” I say with a grin.
She frowns back. “I thought this was your home. Why would you talk me into coming here, doing this, and you’re never around? The one person I thought I could tr—”
She cuts off and waves a hand at me before turning to walk away. This time I don’t hesitate to reach out and halt her. I regret it the moment I see her wince.
Releasing her arm quickly, I close the gap between us. “I never said I lived here. I don’t live in New York.”
She tilts her head back to look up into my eyes. My cock twitches in my jeans. Shit, that look is perfect. It’s exactly how I’d want her to look up at me in my playroom, bound, gagged, and soaking wet.
I take a small step back and shake my head clear. I don’t know where that thought came from. After all she’s been through, the last thing she needs is to have me perving out over her.
Get your shit together, John.
“Where do you live?”
“Cali,” I answer the question before I can think better of it.
The crestfallen look on her face has me closing the space between us again. Those eyes. They say so much. I lean into her and dip my head.
“Are you okay? How are you adjusting? You’re ribs… are they healing well?”
She inhales sharply and takes a step back, looking away from me. I go to ask more questions, but I remember that Bobby’s watching us. I turn to find his sharp gray gaze locked in.
“So what? You’re here now to make sure I’m being their good little slave.”
Her words pull me back to her. She’s staring at me with blaring determination. I part my lips as the word slave vibrates in my head.
I wonder if she knows that she oozes submission even in her defiance. That defiance would be such a turn on to cut through. Her full lips thin into a line, but it does nothing to remove those sexy lip lines of hers. It’s not the first time that feature has stuck out to me.
I love a woman with a sexy mouth. Those lip lines make her mouth even sexier. I know, I’m an odd man. It’s the smallest things that turn me on—long lashes, full lips and lip lines, Cupid’s bows—fuck if she doesn’t have a perfect bow.
Come on, John. A sex slave? That’s what you saved her from. She’s not yours and never will be.
“They don’t want to make you a slave. The people here are family. They treat everyone that works for them like family. They protect their own,” I say.
“I’m not their own. I have n—” she stops short, her nostrils flaring.
I narrow my eyes, looking for the end of her words. That’s when Bobby clears his throat. I turn to him again.
“I’m going to head out. Good to see you, John. Roni, so you know. Once you stepped through those doors, you were family whether you wanted to be or not,” he says and nods, turning to leave.
Roni, cute name.
I turn back to a glaring her. A mix of spite and hurt cover her face. There is also… lost, confusion.
What is it about her?
Roni
I feel like I can’t breathe and it’s more than my healing busted ribs. It’s looking at him. He’s so gorgeous. Handsome would be the wrong word. He’s more stunning than I remember and for the love of God, he smells so damn good.
When he stepped into my space and I inhaled, I thought my knees would go weak. How did I not pick up on that before? His scent is lick worthy. I drag my tongue across my lips slowly. He allows those golden eyes to drop down to my mouth to watch the action. Frustrated with my reaction to him, I roll my shoulders back.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing,” I murmur.
He narrows his eyes at me more. With a shake of his head, he closes the gap between us. I tilt my head once again to look up at him.
I’m five seven, he has to be six one or six two. The fact that I have to look up at him makes my belly flip. Goosebumps rise across my skin.
“I know that’s a lie. I don’t do lies. Since you and I are going to be friends, I think we should establish that upfront.”
“Who says we’re going to be friends?”
“You have no one,” he finishes my earlier words. “Or so you think. Now you have me.”
“You don’t even live around here, how are we going to be friends?”
He places a hand on my shoulder gently and I swear my belly drops. With a small squeeze, he locks those eyes on me. Again, like that first night, I see something I feel like I can trust.
Trust.
I haven’t felt like… I can’t remember the last time I trusted someone. I try to recall a time when I was able to hold onto that feeling. To trust someone, to have someone in my corner. The recollection doesn’t come, but I know this is that feeling.