Saving Brigit (10 page)

“I don’t care much for chocolate, Omar.” Her words would have had more effect if she’d been able to keep a quiver from her voice. “I came, as you said to. Can we go and find Brigit now?”

“Soon, Mrs. Williams. I can promise you’ll see Brigit soon.”

Turning toward the sound of the voice, she searched the darkness for him. Her nails cut into her palms. Her knees threatened to fold at any minute. She’d never been so frightened, yet she had to be here. She had to do what she could for Brigit. Gone was any thought of adventure or excitement. The embassy experience had quashed any flair of excitement, and Rashid had opened her eyes to how dangerous—not exciting—her trip was. Her one goal now was to do what she could to gain Brigit’s safe return home.

The tip of a cigarette glowed a few yards away. She pictured him there, smoking and knowing how scared she was, enjoying her fear. Well, she wouldn’t let him know how scared she was. She took a step forward and then another.

“Why are you standing there? Shouldn’t we be going?”

“Just checking to be sure you really did come alone.” He chuckled. “My cousin at the hotel didn’t see the man you dined with. Who was he?”

So, Rashid had been right. “The man I told you about, the one who helped me get around the city today. Everything is so different here.”

“Did you not take him to your bed? American women are quick to spread their legs, I’ve found.”

“How dare you,” she said sharply. “What about Brigit? I want to go to her. Now.”

He took another drag on his cigarette. The tip grew bright red and then faded to a rust-colored burn. “She spread her legs for me two, three times a day. She fucked like a slut, in any position, anytime and anywhere I commanded her.”

“I don’t want to hear—”

“I tied her up, you know? I treated her like the bitch she was, and she loved it.”

Thia stood her ground. Her only movement was to slip her cell phone from her slacks pocket. “Take me to her,” she said firmly. “Right now or I’ll call for help.” She held up the phone.

He laughed. The bastard laughed, and the sound rolled through the street like a bowling ball rumbling down a rippled lane toward the pins. Thia glanced over her shoulder, then nervously up and down the street. There was no one. How could the road be totally empty when, minutes ago, Islamabad had appeared as busy as San Francisco on a mid-week workday?

Where is Rashid?

The laughter abruptly stopped. He dropped his cigarette. She heard the brush of his shoe as he crushed it out, and then he stepped forward.

She saw the man she’d come to think of as her enemy for the first time. No wonder Brigit had been attracted. His dress was casual, loose, light-colored pants and an open-necked shirt hanging outside the waistband. He was of average height and stocky, though he carried his weight well. His olive complexion was clear, and what looked like laugh lines marked the edges of his eyes. If she hadn’t known what he’d done—or suspected it, at least—she might have passed him on the street and thought him sexy in a dark, mysterious kind of way. Now she looked at him as she might a roach.
He should be stepped on and crushed beyond recognition.
If he’s harmed Brigit, I’d do it, too. I’d kill him right where he stands.

“It seems you did come alone.” He leaned against the building, jammed his hands in his pockets, and regarded her coolly.

“I said I would.” She shrugged. “Besides, who would I bring? I don’t know anyone here.”

“Doesn’t matter. You won’t be here much longer.”

“And where we’re going, you won’t need even what you have on.” He looked her up and down with a critical eye. “I’ll be able to redeem myself by bringing you to him.”

“What are you talking about? Him who?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Brigit is there, though I doubt by now she’ll want you to see what she’s become.”

He pushed away from the wall and came close enough for her to smell the tobacco on his breath and the hint of male excitement.

He ran the back of his finger down her cheek. “How about a sample, huh? You’ve got long legs and fuller tits than Brigit. We could do it right against the wall and let the rats watch.”

A shiver ran down her back. It took all of her willpower not to slap him. But what if she really was out here alone? Rashid hadn’t shown himself yet.
If you slap him, could it get any worse than not slapping him?

“With you? I don’t see that happening.”

For some reason, that struck him as funny. Bad breath hit her as soon as he began laughing.

“Might as well with me. You won’t find any better where you’re going, and you can be sure you’ll spread your legs there. Often.”

He grabbed her breast and squeezed hard. She cried out and tried to step away, but like lightning, he’d reached behind her and grasped her bottom, keeping her from escape.

Instead of fear, Thia was seized with a burst of anger. “Let go of me, you son of a bitch.”

And he did. She almost fell backward with his sudden release. Then she saw the reason. Rashid stood behind Omar, pulling back his head by the hair and scraping the tip of a long knife at his throat.

“The lady doesn’t want a goat’s prick like you to touch her.”

Omar glared at her. “You said you were alone. My men watched you, and you
were
alone.”

“I guess your men were mistaken, you…you goat’s prick.” She glanced at Rashid who nodded, pleased. “Where’s Brigit?”

“Not now, Thia.” Rashid gave a low whistle. A car engine started. A dark van rounded the corner and pulled up beside them. Before she knew what was happening, two men jumped out, gagged and tied Omar, and threw him into the van. Rashid almost lifted her in, and the van took off. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than twenty seconds.

“Where are we going?” she asked Rashid.

“Somewhere we can chat with our friend Omar and find where he took Brigit.” Omar struggled in the back. She heard a thud, and then there was quiet.

“I’d like to kill him, and that scares me.” With aftershock, she began trembling uncontrollably. Rashid took her hands in his and chafed them.

“I’m sorry I took so long. We needed to check the area thoroughly to be sure what we were up against. You did very well. I am impressed.”

“Did…did you hear what he said? He’s taken her somewhere awful. He said she’d have to…” Thia couldn’t finish. In her mind flashed an image of Brigit at her high school graduation party at July’s. She’d looked happy and sweet and so ready to start her life. What must she feel now? How could she ever handle being in a place where she was a slave, at the whim of any man who saw her?

“We will find your friend,” Rashid said in a low voice. “We will find her, and we will bring her home. In the meantime, if she is like you, she is strong enough to wait for us.”

Brigit tried to turn over. She was so tired. It seemed Fatima had been taken to guests’ rooms every night, and she had been forced to watch. But she knew her fatigue was due to more than late nights and days filled with preparation for late nights. Seeing Fatima used over and over had caused a kind of malaise to come over her. All she wanted was to sleep and let the world go by. What difference did it make anyway? She’d been here weeks, and there had been no sign anyone knew where she was, or even cared, damn it. Where were her parents, her friends? Where was
help
?

If there was no help and if this was to be her life, she wasn’t sure she could face it. She’d thought she could deal with things, but that was when she held out hope for rescue. Now she didn’t think she’d make it. Why try?

Someone shook her shoulders. Fatima. Brigit wished Fatima would just leave her the hell alone.

“Brigit, you must get up. Tonight you will service the guests. It is your turn.”

“What?” Shock made her open her eyes. “But…but I’m not ready, I don’t know what to do, how to act.” She stared into Fatima’s eyes. “I don’t want to.”

Fatima stood and stared back. “Then you will bring punishment on us both. You will make your point tonight, and tomorrow we will both be below stairs. There the women do not have walks in the garden or perfumed baths. There you lie on a bunk and wait for whatever man stumbles by with a free moment. And there are many men. I do not want that for myself.” She drew herself up. “But you will put me there if you do not do as I have trained you.”

Shit. How in hell had she ended up here? What had she done that was so bad she deserved this?

Slowly, Brigit dragged herself out of bed. “What do I need to do?”

“Bathe first. Then we will arrange your hair. You’re lucky to be blonde. The men here love light-colored hair. That alone will please them.” Fatima turned Brigit to sweep her hair into a ponytail that still managed to reach far below her shoulders. “I will apply your makeup in a provocative style that will show the men how much you wish to serve their needs.”

She walked across the room and pulled out her makeup case. Searching through the box, she said, “This is a test to see if you can perform. Your every move, your every expression will be watched. If you try but do not succeed, I will be punished and you will also. But we will have a second chance. If you do nothing, if you refuse to even try, we will both be sent down.” Fatima looked up. “Do not doubt me, Brigit. I have seen it happen more than once. In these weeks, I have come to think of you fondly, but I do not want to give my life for you or your stubbornness.”

The two women stared at each other for long moments. Then Brigit blinked. “I understand.”

Fatima smiled. “Good. I will help you as I can.”

For the next hours, Fatima did her best to soothe Brigit’s nerves, which worsened as the day drew to a close. By the time she’d been bathed in rose water and her body shaved, her hair brushed to a luster and her eyes outlined in kohl, all Brigit wanted to do was puke. Only fear kept her in check, fear of what the owners of this place would do to her if she failed. And what they’d do to Fatima, who had shown her nothing but kindness in this shitty place in the world’s asshole.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“The men know this is your first night,” Fatima told her. “Perhaps you will be lucky, and they will be easy on you.”

“I’ve watched you, Fatima. You submit without question. Is that what I should do?”

Fatima thought for a second. “I submit because it is my nature. It is what they expect of a woman of my breeding. All I can say is we must all be what we are born to be, Brigit. This place is our fate. It is not our being.”

A simple yes or no would have been more help, but there was no time to ask anything else. The guard arrived. Brigit wore a flowing, translucent gown in light blue, which suited her fair skin and golden hair. Except for the excessive makeup and rouge accentuating her nipples—something Fatima assured her would drive the men to their knees—she would have enjoyed going to meet a man dressed as she was. If the man was one of her own choosing, that is.

When they reached the room, the guard stood Brigit to the side. He took Fatima to a cage and locked her in. Tonight, she would watch Brigit be taken.

The guard returned for her. He positioned her in the center of the room. No one else was there. She tried to look over her shoulder at Fatima, but as soon as she moved, the guard tapped her with a leather stick all of the guards carried. They could use it as a light reminder or as a whip, depending on their mood. She stood still.

Presently, she heard loud laughter and talking. The door slammed open, and three burly men entered. One was Asian. The other two looked Middle Eastern. When they were seated, the guard made a show of removing the gown. He pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and said something. The men nodded and smirked. The guard stepped away. One of the Middle Eastern men stood and came toward her. Brigit sucked in her breath.

His big palm covered her breast. His hand was warm and dry. His breath was sweet. She’d expected to find he’d been drinking, but instead, it seemed he’d chewed on a peppermint. His trousers tented to show a huge penis, and Brigit knew soon it would be inside her. She began to tremble. The man smiled down at her. Strangely, his eyes were kind. He murmured something she couldn’t understand, but his tone calmed her.

The incongruence of his kindness and what they were here to do to her struck her so strongly, she wanted to laugh, something she felt certain the men wouldn’t appreciate. She took hold of her emotions and shoved them aside. The man noticed. He nodded and then barked a command to the guard.

The guard dragged a table near Brigit. The top and edges were padded and covered in satin. He untied her hands and then bent her over the table’s edge. Her hands were tied to the other corners. So far, her first experience with the pleasure room wasn’t too bad.

The other men came to her now. They stroked her back, played with her hair, ran their hands over her body as though it was their own. Something cold and wet was smeared over her butt. She raised her head as much as she could and stared at Fatima, whom she could just see. They were going to take her in the ass and she had no say, no option. Fatima stared back, a silent reminder that Brigit had more than her own life in her hands.

The breach began. Brigit wondered if her partner was the first man with the huge cock. Whoever it was, the fit was tight. She fought hard to relax her sphincter as the onslaught continued. She tried breathing as Fatima had taught her, focusing on relaxation instead of what was happening. And it started to help.

Being filled from behind was so different from having a man in her pussy. Her clit swelled and begged for attention, but would receive none. Instead, the fullness in her ass proved satisfying in a titillating way. The man had more control. Like a dog on a bitch, he was on top, and she had little recourse but to let him do what he wanted.

The man reached under for her breasts. He squeezed in concert with his thrusts, which had become long, deep, and faster. With a grunt, he finished, sending a flood of warm cum into Brigit. Then he pulled out

Before she adjusted to his rapid exit, another cock found its way into her, its way eased by the first man’s ejaculation.