Callahan."Sir, we have a lead on David," Dante announces as I turn away from the woman in frustration. Her English is broken but from what she's telling me, she's one of the women they'd trafficked at some point. Terrified out of her mind, she keeps making the sign of the cross every time she glimpses either of the dead men, a stream of words in a language I don't understand pouring from her."They brought me to make the food," she repeats again. "But the girl doesn't eat." When I turn away, she continues to tell one of the soldiers. "I go now," she says, nodding as if giving herself permission to leave.“Where?” I ask Dante.“Hotel in Amsterdam. I can get you there in forty minutes.”“Does he know we found him?”Dante shakes his head. "The man who just delivered his dinner called. Soldiers are on their way, but it'll be about twenty minutes before they're on site.""Let's go," I say, then glance at the woman who has started sobbing again. One of the soldiers is holding on to her. Sh
Callahan“I need to sit down,” David says. Antonio pulls the chair out, moves it around the desk and shoves it under him.David sits, tucks his free hand into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.He looks up at Antonio, smiles a little, the look on his face strange before he turns his attention to me, that expression different, colder."I could have let you die, I didn't. It would have been better for Antonio if I'd let you die but I saved your life because he wanted me to. I did it for him."“What do you mean it would have been better for me?" Antonio asks.I can't peel my eyes from him. This man who, if what Fernando says is true, masterminded my family's massacre.“You don't know anything. Neither of you. You never knew your father, not really. How ruthless he could be. Only Michael saw that side of him. And you never knew your mother, either."I fist a handful of his hair, tug his head backward and lean my face close to his. "Then educate us because you k
PortiaShe leaves the door open so I can see a part of the bedroom and hear clearly. I scrub my hair as I listen to her talk to Mara, chastising her for not being in her seat. She was at the window."Let's get you changed. Mr. Petrov will be here soon.""Do you know him?" Mara asks her as she undresses her before dressing her again in a pretty pink dress hanging in a garment bag from the closet door."No, of course not. But he's paid handsomely for you. Just look at this dress he sent.""It's very pretty," Mara deadpans. I can see her face from here. She hasn't even looked at it.“And look at this. There's even a teddy bear for you.”"I'm fifteen. I don't play with teddy bears," Mara says.“You'll accept it and be grateful for it. Now sit.""Do you know how old he is?""Why would his age matter? Silly girl. Now sit down so I can arrange your hair the way he wants it."Mara turns to look at Helga, who has her back to me. Her eyes catch mine for just a brief moment. “I'm scared," she te
PortiaHelga stumbles backward, the sound she makes, the low keening, strange almost inhuman. She catches herself on the vanity as Mara scrambles out of the way.My towel has fallen. I stand over the woman naked and raise the lamp again. I bring it down harder on her forehead. Blood splatters across the mirror and she drops to her knees, eyes unfocused, mouth open but no sound coming.Mara, who has backed away a few steps drops to her knees to stare at the woman.“Again," she says.I glance at her but she's staring at Helga. Helga turns her head to look at Mara.“Again," Mara repeats. “Harder."I bring the stand down one last time and this time, she falls backward, her bulk shoving the vanity, dropping a perfume bottle onto the carpet.Mara crawls toward her, peers at her face. She sits back on her heels and looks up at me. She smiles and begins to rock."He'll hurt you," she says to me.I drop down to my knees too, cover myself with the towel then take her hands. “Mara?"She blinks,
PortiaOver the next twenty minutes two men keep me down while three women do their work. One waxes me to within an inch of my life. The only hair left on my person is that on my head and my eyebrows. I'm beyond feeling embarrassed at this point. I'm just fighting and I manage to kick one of the women in the nose. I'm pretty sure I break it, but I don't care.Finding me too much trouble to apply makeup like they have to the other women, they brush out my hair and leave it loose down my back before attaching heavy cuffs to both my wrists and ankles then securing my arms at my sides by chains that attach to the ankle restraints. My ankles are connected too, by a short chain that makes every step a hazard.There are more than a dozen women in here with me. I recognize a few of the younger ones from the boat. We're all naked, my towel long gone. I'm the only one whose chains connect at the ankles, though. Theirs lock their arms to their sides but give them some mobility.They're heavily m
Portia“Which one started the crying fest here?" she asks, eyes on the girls.The guard who is responsible for the guilty one, pushes his charge forward.The woman steps toward her, cocks her head to look at her then touches her face, wiping away a tear. "Look what you've done to your face. Your makeup will have to be fixed, The others too."The girl swallows standing suddenly, very straight. I realize why when I see how the woman with the clipboard is holding her chin, nails digging into skin."But there's always one example to be made," the woman says and gestures to the other woman to step forward. “I'm going to give you a choice. Each of you sobbing will have the same choice to make if you're still crying like babies when I'm finished with this one."The one from the kitchen steps forward and raises her hand to show what she's holding. It's a large wooden paddle that I imagine can do real damage.“We'll need to make sure our customers understand there's a reason you're crying. Six
Callahan"Any chance we can get eyes on the estate? Gauge what we're walking into," I ask Diamente as we drive toward the location in Eindhoven. I watch the dark sky, the raindrops only a nuisance on the windshield now. Clouds are rolling angrily in the distance, illuminated by still-silent flashes of light.Dante is coordinating more manpower and Antonio is sitting beside me staring out the window, hands fisted."We can't get closer than the public road leading up to the house. They've got their own drones," Diamente says."Of course, they do."I have him on speaker phone but I'm not sure Antonio's listening."From what I've learned about past auctions, they issue, at most, two dozen invitations. In most cases, the buyer himself doesn't attend. They send someone in their place. None of these men want to be in the same room together if they can help it. None of them want to be seen.""Makes sense. How do they know what they're bidding on?""A brochure would have circulated prior to th
Callahan"I don't think..." the man starts then stops. "Shit!"I follow his gaze to where another vehicle drives erratically toward us from inside the gates. It's a large SUV and I can only make out the shadows of the two in the front seat. The driver honks his horn angrily."Petrov," the one with the clipboard says."Mother fucker," the other one curses.The driver lays on his horn opening his window and flipping us or the guards or the whole lot of us off as he barrels toward us and even over the music, I can hear him laughing."Fucking asshole," clipboard guy says as he jumps backward.I hit the gas and pull through the gates, only managing to miss the SUV by a hair. In the rearview mirror I see it swerve as if to run over the soldiers."Who the fuck is fucking Petrov?" Antonio asks."He's the asshole that got us in," I say once we're far enough away from the gates that I can't see the soldiers stationed there anymore."Two guards at the front door," Antonio says.I park the car wh
PortiaWe're lying in bed, Callahan's big arms around me. I'm curled into him, our heads resting on the same pillow.He's playing with a strand of my hair. I touch his unshaved face, liking the stubble."I would be dead if it wasn't for you," he says.I study him, thinking about what I need to tell him.“I didn't want to live afterward. I wanted to die. Even though I knew it would kill Antonio, I just couldn't. But then there you were, and you made me remember things. Made me feel things. Made me care again. Maybe you make me less selfish, Portia."“You've never been selfish, Callahan.”He shrugs a shoulder."I need to tell you something," I start. I take a breath in and lay on my back to stare up at the ceiling. He puts a hand on my belly. Slides it up to cup a breast.“I like this," he says. “I like a little more meat on you.""Well, I'm glad you think so." I sit up, put my pillow on my lap."What is it?" he asks, all serious when he sees my expression. He sits up too and takes the
PortiaHe also told me about Antonio, about him possibly being a product of rape. He's already sent DNA to a lab for a paternity test. We're waiting on the results."Petrov has disappeared. Diamente thinks he'd arranged the explosives to detonate after he left." I'd assumed the explosions were from Callahan's men, a distraction, but this makes much more sense."Why would he have done that?"Callahan shrugs a shoulder."Maybe he knew Felix and his fondness for cameras? Maybe he just hated the assholes present? Who knows? Who cares?""Who is he?""Russian businessman. That's all I've been able to get so far. But I'll find him.""We will find him," says a low, raspy voice from the bed.I gasp, turn my head. Callahan is beside the bed in an instant."Brother!"A doctor and two nurses rush in. They must have been alerted by the machines to Antonio's waking."Well, it's good to see you're awake, Mr. Scarfoni," the doctor says, smiling."I'd have opened my eyes earlier but these two were dec
PortiaI carry two cups of coffee into Antonio's room. Callahan is sitting across from his bed watching him. Maybe willing him to open his eyes. To wake up.Callahan is alive. Battered and bruised, his hearing comes and goes but he's alive. The blast had knocked him out. For a minute, I thought he was gone, really gone this time, but he's back.He looks over at me, stands. I take in the bandages I can see on his arms, his neck, the side of his head and I'm sure he does the same with mine.But it could be worse.I glance at Antonio.“You need to let the doctor look at you again,” I tell him."After." Smears of blood and dirt still stain his clothes and skin. I know most of it isn't his at least.He takes one of the cups of coffee and leads me to a chair. He sits down beside me, and we watch Antonio together.It's been twenty-seven hours since the house blew up.Twenty hours since Antonio came out of surgery.I don't know how many hours or days since David kidnapped me.I look at Callah
PortiaCallahan stands and helps me up."Don't look at him. He doesn't deserve your gaze."Antonio reads something on his phone, and I see the Glock he's holding at his side."Our men are on the grounds, not in the house yet though."I hear gunfire outside the house then, and a moment later, a small explosion.Callahan goes to the window, one arm wrapped around me, as he looks out over the front yard. I see the men out there, the gunfight. I notice the fire at the far end of the house.“We need to move," he tells Antonio, then turns his attention to me. "Is Felix on site?"“I don't know," I say.He nods. "If he is, I'll find him. But I need to get you out first." He holds my hand, and we walk around the bed to where the dead man is lying face down in his own blood. He bends to tug his knife out of the man's side.I notice the new injury on his side then. The bandage over the new set of stitches long gone. I touch it tentatively.“You're hurt."He takes my wrist, shifting his grip to m
PortiaThe chains that bind my wrists to my ankles are removed and my arms are stretched overhead, bound to a metal rung on the headboard. I'm flipped onto my stomach, the cuffs clanging as I'm tugged downward. The link that hobbled me is also removed. My legs are pulled apart, stretched to either corner of the bed and linked to the rungs there.The two men responsible for preparing me, stand back and look down at me. One tugs the pillow out from under my head and shoves it beneath my belly. He nods, meets my eyes and cups his erection."I'll take your ass when it's my turn," he says in Spanish. "Save me a piece."I spit at him.He slaps my ass."Hey," the other soldier interrupts and points to the corner where I see one of those flashing red lights again. The camera is hidden but the soldiers know about it. They must be Felix's men."After."The man glances at the blinking light, nods then returns his attention to me. "If there's anything left."They walk out but don't close the door
Portia"You won't be walking out of here tonight."Did she mean that literally?Because if this is Felix's plan for me, then I'll be fucked by every man out there in turn.I hear the woot of the onlookers once the curtain is fully raised. I can't see much of them and I think that's on purpose. The spotlight follows me even when I turn my head.A man calls out a ridiculous number and makes a lewd comment. Several laugh out loud as the auctioneer chuckles into his microphone, tapping his gavel twice to get everyone's attention.“You haven't even seen it all yet,” he notes in a sing-song voice.Two sets of hands take hold of my arms and force me to turn.When they do, I catch a glimpse of the blinking red light coming from the top corner of the room.Felix is recording this. Is it for me? Well, I should say is it for him?To show those who won't pledge loyalty to him what happens if you are his enemy? Or is it to hold onto after these men leave. Material to blackmail them when it suits h
Callahan"I don't think..." the man starts then stops. "Shit!"I follow his gaze to where another vehicle drives erratically toward us from inside the gates. It's a large SUV and I can only make out the shadows of the two in the front seat. The driver honks his horn angrily."Petrov," the one with the clipboard says."Mother fucker," the other one curses.The driver lays on his horn opening his window and flipping us or the guards or the whole lot of us off as he barrels toward us and even over the music, I can hear him laughing."Fucking asshole," clipboard guy says as he jumps backward.I hit the gas and pull through the gates, only managing to miss the SUV by a hair. In the rearview mirror I see it swerve as if to run over the soldiers."Who the fuck is fucking Petrov?" Antonio asks."He's the asshole that got us in," I say once we're far enough away from the gates that I can't see the soldiers stationed there anymore."Two guards at the front door," Antonio says.I park the car wh
Callahan"Any chance we can get eyes on the estate? Gauge what we're walking into," I ask Diamente as we drive toward the location in Eindhoven. I watch the dark sky, the raindrops only a nuisance on the windshield now. Clouds are rolling angrily in the distance, illuminated by still-silent flashes of light.Dante is coordinating more manpower and Antonio is sitting beside me staring out the window, hands fisted."We can't get closer than the public road leading up to the house. They've got their own drones," Diamente says."Of course, they do."I have him on speaker phone but I'm not sure Antonio's listening."From what I've learned about past auctions, they issue, at most, two dozen invitations. In most cases, the buyer himself doesn't attend. They send someone in their place. None of these men want to be in the same room together if they can help it. None of them want to be seen.""Makes sense. How do they know what they're bidding on?""A brochure would have circulated prior to th
Portia“Which one started the crying fest here?" she asks, eyes on the girls.The guard who is responsible for the guilty one, pushes his charge forward.The woman steps toward her, cocks her head to look at her then touches her face, wiping away a tear. "Look what you've done to your face. Your makeup will have to be fixed, The others too."The girl swallows standing suddenly, very straight. I realize why when I see how the woman with the clipboard is holding her chin, nails digging into skin."But there's always one example to be made," the woman says and gestures to the other woman to step forward. “I'm going to give you a choice. Each of you sobbing will have the same choice to make if you're still crying like babies when I'm finished with this one."The one from the kitchen steps forward and raises her hand to show what she's holding. It's a large wooden paddle that I imagine can do real damage.“We'll need to make sure our customers understand there's a reason you're crying. Six