Chapter 60

“Let’s get right down to it then, Ashley. I’ve been doing some more research on your boyfriend and his terrorist friends and I have a few questions for you, starting with: When did you meet Oliver Memphis?”

Leave it to Patt to ruin any semblance of a pleasant moment. The man is an automaton and his programming is set to one objective: get the bad guys by any means necessary. I would respect him if he weren’t trying to ruin my whole life. Just another way he reminds me of Alan. “That’s not where we left off, Patt. You said I could tell you the whole story.”

He sighs. “Dr. Emerson called me after she left the hospital. I’ll get all of her notes later, but for now, she said the only thing to come out of your time with her today was an acknowledgment it was Alan who left you the money in Atlanta. Two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars is a lot of money to transfer and deposit for a girl he planned on selling. I definitely want to talk about that, but for now the important thing is to find out more about Memphis. When did you meet him?”

Patt has been here for less than ten minutes and he’s already managed to royally piss me off. “I didn’t know that’s what he was doing. I didn’t know until later he’d left me the money.” It takes me a second, but then the rest of his words sink in and then I’m angry with Emerson as well, the only thing to come out of our three hour talk is that Alan went to the bank? That’s pretty cold. Everyone around me is just full of surprises lately.

“Memphis, Miss Ashley. When did you meet him?” Patt has apparently decided to forgo the imposing environment of the craft room and interrogate me in my room. Fine with me.

“He was there when we got to Atlanta,” I whisper. This isn’t a part of the story I want to tell, but I know it’s what I have to do. The truth is – I want Patt to make it to that auction. I want him to round up those bastards and free those slaves. I owe it to them. I owe it to myself. I owe it to Alan. “He’d been waiting for us.”

Patt and I are silent for a moment. He pulls a recorder out of his jacket pocket, presses the record button and puts it down on the bed. “It’ll help me go through your statement later. I know this is hard, Miss Ashley. I also know, you think I want to make it that way, but I don’t. I just want to do my job and make these people pay for what they’ve done, to you, and to so many other women and children. There are children there too…did you know that?” I shake my head. I hate him for putting that thought in my head. I can’t stand the thought of a child suffering. No more jokes or banter. Patt quietly lifts his briefcase and sets it on the ground before he sits down.

I clear my throat and lick my lips. This is where the real story begins.

I don’t know exactly what time it was when we arrived, but the sun had set not too long before. Alan and I hadn’t done much talking on the way. I didn’t really have anything to say to him that wouldn’t result in him punishing me.

My heart pounded a sharp tattoo in my chest as we made our way down the seemingly endless driveway. The person who owned this house definitely had a lot of money and demanded a lot of privacy. Large trees hid our destination, but I could see the glow of lights in the distance. Soon. Soon, I would lose everything that was ever important to me.

I berated myself for not making more attempts to escape, even if I could barely walk, let alone run. Still, even if I died in the process, I felt like I should have tried again. Death had to be better than what I had coming. I knew once he got me inside that house I would be a sex slave for the rest of my life. I know Alan said two years, but I just didn’t have any faith in that. How could I?

“Don’t cry, Kitten. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Obey and you’ll be fine.” Alan’s words were supposed to soothe me, but his tone was somewhat deadpan. It seemed not even he, believed what he said.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and closed my eyes to try and find my bearing. I could do this, I kept telling myself. I could survive. I could get well enough to escape. I couldn’t lose hope. Someone would come for me.

Abruptly, the truck stopped and a man wearing a tuxedo asked Alan for his invitation. I was tempted to shout for help, but something told me the man knew exactly why I was being brought here and the last thing I needed was to prove to Alan he’d been right about me. I would try to escape at the first opportunity. It was true, but he didn’t need to have that kind of certainty.

“I don’t have an invitation, but I was invited: Alan.”

His name, that’s all it took. The man waved us on and a little further up the driveway Alan stopped the vehicle, came around to my door and gripping me by the arm, pulled me slowly up the walkway while someone else took the truck.

“I can walk!” I shrugged out of Alan’s grasp, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. I was sobbing, completely unable to stop. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

You’re going to die in there. Stop marching to your own fucking doom!

I stopped walking. “Alan. Please, please don’t make me go in there. Please. Please!” I turned to run, but Alan’s arms surrounded me before I managed to take my first step. I struggled and pain radiated from every part of my body, but especially my shoulder.

Alan’s hand covered my mouth as he pressed his body against my back and held me immobile. “Kitten, don’t you dare!” he half whispered, half growled into my ear. “I warned you not to use my name. I warned you not to run from me. You are going inside one way or another and there is nothing you can do about it. Accept it. Breathe and accept it.”

I whimpered and sobbed behind his hand, but I had to admit being held by him was slowly bringing me back toward center. My panic was palpable, literally thrumming and pulsing in my veins, but Alan’s arms were strong. Caleb was solid. My muscles strained and the pain was approaching unbearable. I willed myself to relax my body in degrees and I noticed Alan’s fingers also relaxed.

He slowly withdrew his hand from my mouth. I gasped for breath and sobbed. “Shh.” He stroked my hair as he continued to hold me up. “I know it’s terrifying. I know you’re scared. I’m trying to make this as simple as I can, but you cannot disobey me. If anyone believes I am not your master… It will be bad, Kitten. Do you understand?”

I gripped Alan’s arm, wrapped around my midsection. Don’t leave me, I silently screamed. Don’t leave me. I nodded slowly and let Alan’s touch comfort me and reassure me he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. So long as I obeyed Alan, I was his and no one could hurt me. No one, but Alan.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, but Alan let me hold his hand. I knew he’d eventually punish me for my outburst, but that was later. At the moment, his anger was tempered and his hand was warm and strong against mine. Alan was finished comforting me the moment we reached the large wooden door of the enormous estate. My entire body trembled, but I kept my head down and tried to breathe. My safety was assured, so long as my obedience could be expected. It could be a lie, but doubt was something my fragile psyche could ill afford.

Alan rang the bell and after a few seconds, there was a metal clang and the door creaked open. “Buenas tardes, Señor….”

I tuned out while Alan and the man who answered the door talked. In the place of their conversation, I heard a high-pitched screech. I felt dizzy, too, but somewhere in my head, I knew it was only my panic and adrenaline doing this to me. I forced air in and out of my lungs at a steady pace, willing myself not to hyperventilate.

Alan’s hand at the small of my back urged me forward and somehow I did it: I took that first step toward my own annihilation. Then I took another and another, my eyes watched my feet as they continued to carry me.

Music played in the background as we walked and soon I couldn’t help but notice the place looked like a lavish hotel. The floors were made of marble, and use of rich, wine colored carpets was also prevalent. I kept close to Alan, especially since he didn’t discourage it. Suddenly, I heard a loud slap, followed by a woman’s whimper of distress from the left. My eyes followed the sound past the man in front of us and landed on the scene in the adjoining room.

A crowd of finely dressed men, and even some women, was loosely gathered to watch as another man in a white tuxedo held a naked woman over his lap. Her black hair was swept to the side, her pain-stricken face clearly visible. Her body seemed graceful, even in its debased position. A glaring red hand print stood out prominently against her pale white skin. The man stroked her spine and she undulated, lifting her behind higher into the air as if begging the man to strike her again. I looked away when he did and the woman once again whimpered, but did not scream.

Is that the kind of thing Alan expects from me? I knew the answer. I also knew I would fail at the task miserably. No matter how many times Alan had spanked me I always screamed and begged for him to stop, even as I surrendered to the orgasms he gave me.

“There is someone here to see you. I am taking you to him now,” said our chaperone.

Alan’s fingers twitched against my spine and I felt a corresponding shock of pure panic. “Is it the master of the house? I’ve been eager to meet him.”