Escape From Paradise (17 page)

Colin nodded. Even as a Scot it might take longer to earn their trust.

“And Douglas?” Abernathy raised an eyebrow. “If you get the lassie out, you can keep the reward money, because it will be your last mission with us. Once you’ve taken property from a man like Marco Ruiz, you’ll need to disappear. If Angela Birch is alive, and if she’s at this estate, she’ll also need to go into hiding. Only her parents will know. We’ve warned them that they’ll need to make new lives for themselves too, and they’re willing. They’ll do anything to get her back.”

Colin let this news settle into his mind. This could be his last job with the agency. He could start a new life for himself. Become a new person.

If he survived this mission and could get the girl out alive.

“I understand,” Colin said.

“Good. Here’s a video compiled of the girl by her parents so you can get to know her a bit.” Abernathy reached out a hand and they shook.

Back at his flat, Colin got to work, sliding the homemade DVD into the player.

It began with a surprise party for Angela Birch’s eighteenth birthday in her senior year of high school, went through her graduation, and extended through her year and a half of college before she went to Cancun. Colin watched her laugh, sing, and interact with her parents and friends. She seemed responsible, mature, intelligent, and unaware of her own natural beauty. Unassuming. Innocent. The video tugged at parts of Colin he hadn’t felt tugged in countless years—or maybe never.

The Birches were a family. A real, loving family, who deserved to be together. He wanted to make this happen. And he couldn’t deny that a strange, deep, selfish part of him wanted to meet this Angela. How would this responsible, smiling girl have taken to the world of slavery? He couldn’t imagine her filthy and drugged on the floor like Graham had been. The very idea made him want to thrash everything in his path to yank her out of whatever situation she might be in.

Disappointment filled him when the DVD ended, and he pushed Play again. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. After hours of repeated footage he had her voice memorized. He knew her expressions of amusement and sentiment. He felt like he knew her, which was ridiculous, but he felt it nonetheless and couldn’t bloody wait to get her the fuck out of captivity.

His head spun with possibilities as he envisioned himself inside the world of Marco Ruiz. He would have to put on his best show yet, submersing himself into that shady battle land where lines of right and wrong became skewed.

To enter a snake lair, Colin would have to become a snake.

The night of Josef’s beating, for the first time, Marco allowed a patron to keep me until the morning. Until that point he’d been sheltering me, but I knew those days were over. Now, men could have me for more hours, waking me during the night if they wanted, pushing my head down to their crotch in the morning while they were still half asleep. Making me feel less and less like a human.

When Luis took me back to the slave quarters to shower the next morning, I was nervous to see Josef. My patron had paid to have me all day, so I’d be taken back to him once I was cleaned.

In the room my eyes darted around for Josef. I saw Perla first, sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up, naked. She gave me a sad look and her eyes drifted toward the wall. I rushed in and saw Josef lying on his stomach. My hand flew to my mouth.

His back.

I’d never seen so many bruises. He was purple and red in criss-crossing streaks. My eyes burned with moisture, but no tears fell. The memory of him hanging there flashed through my mind alongside an image of the grin he’d given me during sex. I wanted to run over and beg his forgiveness, but Perla’s voice stopped me.

“
Déjalo dormir.
”
Let him sleep.
She’d apparently gotten the memo from Marco to speak only Spanish to me now. She didn’t sound mad, only sad.

I gazed at the sleeping Josef and hoped he’d had one of those pills for his own self yesterday. With reluctance I turned and went for my shower.

My stomach was upset when my patron led me into the dining room for lunch that afternoon. I crawled at his side and he sat on the end next to Marco. I hadn’t slept well the previous night, and my neck hurt. He’d made me sleep on the floor without a blanket. Granted, the temperature in the rooms are always perfect, and the carpets were lush, but I still hated it.

I reached up slowly to rub my neck when I saw one of Marco’s men escorting Jin into the dining room on her hands and knees in a red, strapless dress. When she got within five feet of me she looked up just enough so that our eyes met. Her face contorted into a raging, feral expression.

Oh, shit.

Somehow she knew Josef’s beating was because of me. And she must have added up the pieces and figured out we’d had sex. Jin was yet another aspect I hadn’t taken into account when I seduced Josef. I felt horrid and my guilt was surely written across my face. Her feelings for Josef had to be off the charts because she launched herself forward, taking me completely by surprise.

My ears filled with ringing as we both screamed. She had handfuls of my hair, yanking as we rolled, kicking, kneeing, snarling. I’d never been in a fight before. It was scary to have someone attacking me, wanting to hurt me. I grabbed her wrists, trying to subdue her hands and protect myself by keeping distance between us, but she was a strong and vicious little thing. Her teeth cut into my shoulder and I screeched in pain, bringing my foot up and kicking her back. She came away on her knees with blonde strands between her fingers, panting.

Why the hell wasn’t anyone stopping this? One quick glance around answered that for me. They were too busy watching and laughing, enjoying the cat fight. Marco sat stiffly, unamused, but made no move to end the fight.

Jin raised a hand to slap me and I caught her wrist, but then she swung the other one and clapped me hard across the ear, almost making me vomit. I threw myself at her, trying to wrestle her down with my heavier weight and hold all of her limbs down. She bucked when I straddled her and I brought my face down close to hers.

“Lo siento,” I whispered fervently through my teeth as she thrashed underneath me. “Lo siento.”
I’m sorry…

The room cheered, thoroughly entertained at my domination over her.

Jin finally stilled, pressing her lips together and breathing hard through her nose. I watched the fire drain from her, replaced by fear as she realized what she’d done. I wondered if we’d both be punished. My shoulder and scalp were freaking stinging, but I couldn’t be mad at her. I hadn’t been beaten, and I felt like I deserved it.

Someone yelled in Spanish, “Kiss and make up!”

Oh, no.

The girl on girl scenario was yet another thing I hadn’t had to do in my time at the villa. But Jin didn’t hesitate, and I knew she was trying to save face. She pulled her hands from mine, and reached around to grab my ass, pulling me closer. She craned her neck up to me. When our lips met I was shocked by the softness of her mouth, so small. She tasted like strawberries. I relaxed into her, kissing her, my heart still pounding. Jin moved her hips and I met her rhythm, rocking against her. Her body was so tiny under mine. The whole thing felt weird, but not bad…just…very different.

“Angel,” Marco called. I broke the kiss and looked over at him. He nodded to my patron, who was giving me “the eye.” I climbed off Jin and crawled to him, sore all over now as I felt an array of scratches from her nails and teeth across my skin.

My patron pushed his chair back enough to show me his tented pants. Without question I went forward and took care of him.

I felt numb, like I was coming down from a high.

I didn’t think about the people watching.

I didn’t think about how he insensitively grabbed the hair on my head, bringing further pain to my tender scalp.

All I could think about was how much Jin cared for Josef, and how she’d shown more human emotion in that moment than I’d ever seen at the villa. And how strangely grateful I was to witness her beautiful burst of passion.

Months passed. I’m not sure how many. In the early days I’d kept a mental calendar, but that all stopped after the Josef incident. Even though he was a total sweetheart and held nothing against me.

When we’d finally made eye contact for the first time after his beating, he stuck out his tongue at me and freaking winked, like a kid. The tension immediately fell away from my body and cool relief had filled me, but I’d always carry guilt about it. We never discussed it, and even Jin went back to being her normal distant self.

I think Marco kept me hidden from many of the people who visited the villa. No doubt my parents and those in the U.S. had rewards out there for information about my whereabouts. They weren’t the type to give up or give in. And Marco clearly did not trust all of the people who came through his doors.

Sometimes whispers would spread through the villa about a government official coming, or a westerner, and I’d be locked in the slave quarters for the duration of their visit. I wondered what would happen if someone did recognize me. Would they have the balls to blackmail Marco, or turn him in? I could see some of these skeevy, disloyal criminal, mafia types pulling something like that. I could also see Marco’s men hunting them down and killing them while they slept.

There seemed to be something missing from the eyes of everyone who came to the villa. They lacked the basic human elements I’d grown up seeing in facial expressions—compassion, remorse, joy. The eyes I saw here were calculating and suspicious, greedy and selfish. When they smiled or laughed it was usually about something fucked up.

And of course there was lust in their eyes. Always.

I tried not to look in their eyes unless it was clear they wanted me to, but thankfully they were usually fine without eye contact. Except the ones who liked to inflict a little pain. They enjoyed seeing my eyes.

The average patron was middle aged. Very few of them were young or in shape. Those with nice bodies had cruel faces. But we were expected to stroke their gigantic egos and screw them as if they were gorgeous rockstars. There came a point where attractiveness meant nothing to me anymore. The best looking men to come through the villa were some of the most boring. The fat and old men who I assumed would be sweet were some of the meanest. The average looking men who I wouldn’t have given a second glance to in my old life could go either way. They never ceased to shock me with their wild desires or surprising gentleness. Even with warnings or advice from the other slaves, I never knew what to expect when I walked in a bedroom.

I did, however, know what
not
to expect. I never expected consideration or conversation, unless you count the “You like that, don’t you?” question, to which the answer always had to be, “Oh, yes.”

I knew I was just a body. I was ever aware. The way eyes followed me with hunger, even Marco’s men. My body was not mine. It belonged to whomever paid the high price to rent it. Or it was gifted to business partners of Marco’s as a “thank you.”