The phone rang, and Gabi made a sound of exasperation. “Here. Can you take these out?” She handed over the platter and turned to answer the phone. “Hello?”
As laughter came from the two women in the living room, Kim stood still, having to fight the urge to retreat into solitude.
Once she joined Jessica and Kari, she knew—knew—they would lighten her mood. That was something else that Gabi had done. When Kim had started to retreat from people, Gabi’d brought in a couple of her submissive friends. Being in the lifestyle, they had a good idea of what had happened and how a person might react. Their understanding, without Kim having to explain, was wonderful. She liked them.
The only light during her captivity had been her friendship with the other slaves. Like Linda, the older woman who—Kim swallowed—who that fat scumbag had beaten. As the attendants had been bandaging Kim’s back, she’d heard the bastard refuse to buy the redhead, saying she was too old. God, had Linda survived what the Overseer did to slaves who didn’t sell?
Kim hauled in a breath. Fretting wouldn’t help, or so the counselor kept telling her. Only it made her so…so mad. And guilty, like she’d abandoned Linda without doing anything to save her. But what could she have done? Maybe she—
Gabi cleared her throat and made a fist, gesturing in the way that meant full speed ahead.
I should never have taught her those old tugboat signals. Kim nodded and headed into the living room.
“You’ve got the cookies!” Jessica trotted over. After one bite, the short blonde moaned in delight. “Kari, this is the best recipe.” Another bite and she took a second cookie, sending a frown to the woman across the room. “And hey, thanks for not helping me lose weight.”
“Z likes you round,” Kari said. “I’m just doing him a favor.”
As Jessica curled up in a chair to nibble, Kim set the platter on the coffee table for Kari and tried not to laugh.
The very pregnant, sweet-faced schoolteacher was trying to lower herself into the other overstuffed chair. Finally, arms giving out, she dropped the last foot with a bounce and a squeak. After a squirm to settle, she gave Kim a composed smile. “Made it.”
“Uh-huh. God help you when you want to stand up again. And you still have another month?”
“If I survive that long.” Kari leaned forward to get a cookie and was stymied by her stomach. She giggled. “Help?”
No one could be grumpy around these two. Jessica was intelligent, logical, and assertive. Kari almost beamed with joy at the new life inside her, despite being so short and round she resembled a bowling ball. Kim handed her a couple of cookies. “Are you having a girl or a boy?”
“Dan doesn’t want to know, and I let him have his way. Though he’s getting ahead in winning arguments.”
Kim smiled. Yesterday, when Kari’s husband had dropped her off for a visit, she’d been spitting mad. Apparently Dan had seen her trying to adjust the driver’s seat to accommodate her stomach, but not so far she couldn’t reach the steering wheel. The dom had taken her car keys away.
Kim might have been angrier, except the man had driven Kari over himself. Hard-faced with cop’s eyes, he looked really mean, yet he touched his wife as gently as Marcus did Gabi.
It was nice to be shown that all men weren’t the enemy. But some are. Shoving the thought aside, she snatched a cookie and sat on the couch.
Gabi walked in, brows drawn together. She squeezed Kim’s shoulder before sitting beside her. “That was Vance—the guy from the FBI. He’s coming today.”
“Really? Good.” Kim’s anticipation surged. They’d asked her not to call her mother until they figured a few things out. Mom must be going crazy with worry. I need to go home. “When will he be here?”
“Right away.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “There’s a typical man. He probably smelled the cookies baking all the way across the city.” She leaned forward and picked up her glass of iced tea. “Speaking of which, can I take some home to Z? He loves chocolate chip cookies.”
“Who doesn’t?” Gabi said. “But sure, we made tons.”
“Eat up, Kari, and we’ll leave before Vance shows up. Otherwise I’ll question Mr. Closemouthed Special Agent about what’s going on, and he won’t spill, and I’ll get mad and be rude.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “He’ll tell Z.”
“And you’d love it.” Gabi snickered. “We all know you act out just to see what creative torture Z will use on you.”
Jessica pointed her cookie at Gabi. “Takes one to recognize one.”
“This is true.” Gabi’s satisfied smile looked exactly like her young cat’s after it had snatched a chicken wing from the table. “I’m not sure who’s more inventive, your dom or mine.”
Kim shuddered. “Don’t worry, fuckhole. I’m quite inventive at finding ways to break slaves.” The whippings. The cage.
“Kim.”
Kim jerked her head up at the sound of her name.
Worry darkened Jessica’s green eyes as she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, I’m glad I’ve recovered enough that you forgot,” Kim said, remembering all the times she’d dissolved into tears. “Besides, it’s nice to be reminded there’s such a thing as teasing a dom for fun.”
Kari grinned. “In that case, you should have been at the last barbecue when Gabi called Marcus a cretin and asked him if he’d had an extra bowl of stupid that morning.”
Kim felt the blood drain from her face. What had he done to her?
“Easy, girl. He didn’t beat on me or anything.” Gabi bumped her shoulder against Kim’s. “I’d rather have had the beating. Would you believe the butthead threw me in the pool after I’d spent an hour on my hair and makeup? And I’d done some really cool temp tattoos around my arms too.”
Kim sputtered a laugh; the knot in her stomach eased.
“You looked so funny.” Jessica rose and hauled Kari out of the chair with a grunt of effort, before grinning at Kim. “She kept cursing him, and he pushed her back in—I think about four times before she cooled down enough to beg forgiveness. And then she hugged him.”
Kari snickered. “You deliberately got his clothes all wet. He didn’t know whether to laugh or curse.”
“Teach him to try to drown me.” Still smirking, Gabi walked with the other two women to the front, exchanged good-byes, then returned to sit beside Kim. “Hey, Jessica forgot Z’s treats—more for us.” Before she got a cookie to her mouth, the doorbell rang. “Well, hell.”
Someone from outside. Heart rate increasing, Kim grabbed her hand. “No, it might not be Vance. I hear another man too. You don’t know who it is.”
“I recognize the voices. It’s okay, girlfriend.”
After a couple of slow breaths, Kim managed to let go of Gabi’s hand. “Sorry.”
“Been there, done that. It takes time.” Gabi hurried to the door and opened it.
The agent walked in first, followed by…Master R? In jeans and a white shirt, he nodded at Gabi, and then his dark gaze went straight to Kim. Intent, powerful.
Her head spun, and her face burned, but the pit of her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed ice cubes. Dizzily, she scrunched into a corner of the couch and pulled her legs up.
His mouth flattened into a straight line, and he said something to Vance too quiet to hear.
“We’ll see.” In khakis and a blue short-sleeved shirt, Vance walked into the living room and took the chair directly across from the couch. “How are you doing, Kim?”
She swallowed. These are friends, not the enemy. Master R—Raoul—got me out. That was the only reason, she realized, she hadn’t run for her bedroom. He’d saved her. “Not good, but better.”
“Lots better,” Gabi said staunchly and dropped down beside her.
Disconcertingly, Master R kneed the large ottoman closer to Kim and sat on it. Within touching distance.
Kim barely kept herself from shrinking away. She’d forgotten how muscular he was. The sleeves of his polo shirt strain
ed to fit around his thick biceps.
“You said you needed to talk about problems,” Gabi prompted.
“Problems, definitely. Our operation is…” Vance’s jaw tightened. “The Harvest Association auctions are big events with many buyers, lots of slaves, and a large number of the association’s personnel. We’ve wanted to raid one for some time, but they change the locations and give out the date and time of the auction only at the last minute. The buyers are transported in windowless vans with anti-tracking technology. Sandoval was to have refused the slaves, so he’d get invited to the next auction. Instead…” He gestured toward Kim.
Instead he bought me and won’t get an invitation. Kim wet her dry lips. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not, chiquita,” Master R said softly. “We’ll figure something out.”
“But the FBI is angry and—”
Vance smiled slightly. “We can’t be mad at him. He got referred as a buyer all on his own and was generous enough to let us in on the action.”
“I didn’t know that,” Gabi said. “You weren’t recruited? But why?”
Master R flashed her a grin. “My mamá named me after Raoul Wallenberg. How can I not help?” His mouth straightened. “Gabi, it’s a dom’s job to protect his submissives, not sit back while they volunteer to get kidnapped.” He gave her a stern stare.
Kim gripped her friend’s hand. Gabi had done insane things trying to rescue her. What if the slavers had actually succeeded and if—
“Stop imagining,” Gabi muttered to her. “What happens now? Can Kim go home?”
Vance hesitated, and Kim couldn’t bear the silence. “I know it’s probably not good news. Just spit it out, okay?”
He smiled. “If you can speak to me like that, you’re doing better than I thought.”
Master R growled. “She is very strong, but she has been very hurt. This is not—”
Vance broke in. “First, going home isn’t a good idea.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice tight. “We’ve discovered at least two slaves escaped.”
“Really?” Gabi leaned forward. “Then they can identify, testify—”
“They can’t,” Vance said flatly. “They’re dead along with anyone they talked with.”
Kim felt her skin go clammy. Going home would put her mother at risk?
“I’m sorry, Kim.” Vance started to say something and then stopped. Waited.
Can’t go home. God, by staying here… She swallowed and edged away from Gabi. “They might come after Gabi and Marcus?”
Gabi broke in. “Don’t you even start thinking like—”
“It might not be a good idea to stay here,” Vance interrupted.
If she ran, where would she hide? The Overseer claimed they had people in every state. She had no money. Her arms wrapped around her legs. The tide was coming in, and it was black.
“Kimberly,” a low, resonant voice said. “Kimberly.” Master R’s voice.
She shuddered and looked at him.
His eyes held hers. “Better. You will listen to everything before you panic. You have options, chiquita.” His intent gaze stayed on her as he prompted, “Buchanan, go on.”
“We are trying to accomplish two things,” Vance said. “To keep you safe and to continue with the operation of shutting down the slavers in the Southeast quadrant. You have a couple of choices.” He waited for her nod. “We can put you into a witness-protection program. Sandoval will report you died—we can’t risk saying you escaped, in case they go after your family—and he’ll ask to buy another slave. The downside is your death would have to be public enough they’d know it was true. Your family would… It might be difficult for them.”
Kim stared. Have Mom think I’m dead? Is he insane? “What’s the other plan?” It must be better.
“We give up on having Sandoval attend the auction. Instead he’d refer someone else.”
“That sounds good,” Gabi said.
“It would be except for the Association’s fu—damned precautions. The only way to talk to the Overseer is at the follow-up visit.” Vance frowned at Kim. “The visit where he finds out if the customer is satisfied. Where he’ll expect to see you, Buchanan’s slave. A good slave, since otherwise you get returned.”
Kim felt the ground drop away. Be a slave. Meet the Overseer again?
“God, no.” Gabi scowled. “She can’t handle that.”
All the feeling had receded from Kim’s fingers. How white they’d gotten. Did she have any blood left inside her? “How long is the visit? How long would I have to pretend?” She’d have to see the Overseer. Deep inside her body, her bones shook like a Halloween skeleton in a cold wind.
“I’m not sure. Probably a couple of hours at least, maybe an evening.” Vance shook his head. “But, Kim, the problem is this: the Overseer doesn’t make contact for a few weeks. At that point, he’d expect to see a fairly well-trained slave. One who knows Sandoval—his habits, his protocols.”
“She could fake it.”
Vance snorted. “Don’t play stupid, Gabi. This isn’t something a slave picks up in an hour. When Marcus nods at the floor, does he mean strip and prostrate yourself, suck his cock, or present yourself doggy-style, or maybe kneel with your hands on your thighs? Or does he prefer your hands behind your head?”
With a sinking feeling, Kim saw Gabi’s understanding nod.
“But maybe she could be…well, kept in a separate room. Like Raoul only uses her for sex or something?” Gabi asked.
Master R shook his head. “During my interview with the Overseer, he asked what functions my slave would perform. I said I wanted service as well as sex. I never imagined being caught in this kind of situation.”
“Who could?” Vance asked. “So Kim would be expected to serve and be present in the room. Having her cringe if her master’s displeased wouldn’t be unusual, but cringing whenever he touches her—or even looks at her? No. Not knowing what to do when he motions for something?” Vance’s gaze turned to Kim, pity softening his blue eyes. “You can’t fake this kind of slavery, sweetie. You’d have to live with Sandoval starting now and actually be his slave, in order to act like one in front of someone as experienced as the Overseer.”
“I already told you no. I won’t have anything to do with this,” Master R said in a hard voice. “She can’t do it.”
The tiny amount of pride left in Kim flickered at how easily he’d dismissed her. She could do whatever she put her mind to. But the rest of her agreed. Go back to being a slave? No way.
But to have them tell her mother she was dead? Would Mom survive such a devastating blow? No.
“I don’t see any other choice,” Vance said. “Not if—”
“I bought her to free her, not to torment her further.” Master R interrupted. “She has enough nightmares without me adding to them. What if she panics when he’s there?”
“Not a deal-breaker,” Vance said. At the deadly look Master R gave him, he shrugged. “To still be struggling with her problems would be normal enough. So would jumpiness. But she can’t fake training she never gets. Most masters do some instruction, even for a sex slave. The kicker is that you not only asked for a service slave, you’re also known in the lifestyle as being an excellent teacher. I’m sorry, Raoul. You’ll have to train her—and you’ll have to touch her as well.”
“Maybe I could go and be there with her? It would be easier with…company or something,” Gabi offered.
Kim looked up. Maybe that—
Vance shook his head. “They do an extensive background on the buyers, so they know Sandoval lives alone. They might do some monitoring after the sale. For him to bring in another woman right after he buys a slave would be downright unlikely and would probably send up a warning flag.” He scowled. “They’re paranoid bastards.”
Warning flag. Ice water trickled into Kim’s core as she remembered… She closed her eyes, took a breath. She had to tell them, but her words stuck to her tongue. “Vance.”
Master R
was still fighting to keep her out of it. “There’s always the demonstration. I could get into an auction that way.”
“Maybe,” Vance said. “But that only gets you on the waiting list for God knows when in the future. Besides, the Overseer would still expect to see Kim since your audition is during the follow-up visit.”
“Vance,” Kim said, raising her voice. Their attention shifted to her. “The gossip in… I heard from the other slaves that if a buyer kills a slave, they don’t contact him for quite a while in case he didn’t cover up well enough, or the body’s found or there’re witnesses. Repercussions.”
“Hell.” Vance scowled. “Then pretending you died won’t work. At least not for getting Sandoval into an auction in the near future, either as a buyer or doing a demo.” He cursed under his breath.
Silence. The number of eyes on her made her shake, and she stared at her hands. Such white fingers, all twined together in knots.
Master R’s voice. “It doesn’t matter.” She looked up into compassion. Worry. “Go into the witness protection program anyway, Kimberly. Stay safe and out of sight.”
How incredible it felt to have someone on her side. In slavery, each woman stood alone, for if one tried to protect another, both were beaten. She winced as a lash cracked across her memory. But now… She wasn’t at their mercy, and the man beside her, like a massive tank, was so, so not helpless.
How could she find a plan that would work? At one time, she’d been good at solutions. Back…before. But now… Pretend to be dead and be safe, but her mother would suffer, and she’d have ruined any chance of getting the FBI to the auction. Be a slave and…oh God, she couldn’t.
“What about the other slaves still in their grasp, Raoul?” Vance asked, his voice edged with pain. With pity. “Can you abandon them so easily?”
The question was a blow straight to Kim’s chest. She watched as Master R turned his face away, the skin taut over his cheekbones. He’d planned the whole thing to rescue all the slaves and abandoned it to save her. Just her. While the rest—Holly and Linda and the others—were still there. They’d never get out. Because of me. Because he rescued me.