My family had an abundance of money until my dad got caught up with other women and drugs. He overdosed, or so I’m told, but I think someone killed him. After that, my mom and I were left with nothing. I helped pay the bills until I went off to college, and then my mom started dating a man with a goodblue-collar job. She didn’t need my help anymore, so I focused on paying for college instead. Unfortunately, that meant taking out student loans.
I met Glenn a year ago when I was juggling two jobs, determined to pay off my student loans as quickly as possible. My plan was simple: eliminate the debt early so I could live comfortably for the rest of my life. Glenn seemed perfect—he took me out whenever I could squeeze in a free moment, showing me a world far removed from my exhausting routine.
As things got serious, he asked me to move in with him. He insisted I didn’t need to pay for anything—just focus on clearing my loans. With only one job to worry about, I suddenly had more time to spend with him, and for a while, everything seemed perfect.
A few months ago, though, Glenn’s cousin Monty showed up, saying he needed a place to crash. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea. There was something off about Monty, the way his eyes lingered on me for too long whenever he was around. But Glenn reassured me it would be temporary.
Honestly, it felt like once he moved in, he wouldn’t leave. Several times he came on to me. I know I should’ve told Glenn, but I never got a chance, too. Everything happened so fast.
It turns out that my boyfriend was involved in some business with his cousin and their three friends - Ralph, Setty, and Josh. One night, I woke up to an argument between the guys in Glenn’s game room, which he also used as an office.
I had crept down the hallway and stopped just outside the room. Voices spilled through the slightly ajar door, tense and angry. Glenn was laying into Monty, his voice low but furious. On the monitor, a video played—a woman bound and gagged in a chair. My stomach churned.
“Monty, I’m not splitting the money we make off these auctions with anyone outside the five of us,” Glenn growled.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Auctions? My eyes darted to the screen again. It wasn’t just a video. It was a live feed—a dark web stream where they were auctioning women off to sex trafficking rings.
“After the deal next month, we’ll be golden,” Glenn added, his tone calm now.
Ralph, Setty, and Josh seemed satisfied with the plan, nodding in agreement. But Monty wasn’t. He muttered something under his breath, his body tense.
I backed away as quietly as I could, my heart racing and bile rising in my throat. Back in the bedroom, I crawled under the covers, my mind racing. I couldn’t let on that I knew. I needed to act normal, to play along until I could figure out how to escape without raising suspicion.
Two days crawled by. I waited for my chance—until they were all out. When the house was silent, I crept back into the office. My hands trembled as I grabbed a flash drive sticking out of the laptop. A date was scribbled on it, likely tied to the recorded auction. I shoved it into my backpack and bolted.
The first thing I did was ditch my cell phone. I turned it off and tossed it into the yard of a house with a barking dog a block away from my home in the city of Atlanta.
I had no idea how close they might be to catching me, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
While on the bus to New York, I mourned my relationship with Glenn. I trusted him. Guess I don’t have good instincts when it comes to men.
He had that “bad boy” edge and ran a successful mechanic shop. Glenn never went to college but was smart and skilled with computers - perhaps too skilled, since he was involved in selling and likely smuggling people.
After reaching New York, I pored over maps of small towns and Blue Haven caught my eye.
Coming back to the present moment, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tub faucet. I test the water temperature with my hand until it’s just right for a bath.
I strip off my clothing, carefully fold them, and set them in a neat pile on the counter made of smooth, slate gray marble.
A week on the run and this is my first real bath. Truck stop sinks and hurried scrubs couldn’t compare to this—a hot soak that might finally wash away a fraction of the hell I’d gone through.
As I lower myself into the bath, the steam envelops me. I pour some shower gel onto a washcloth and gently scrub my arms. I relax and look up at the ceiling, savoring this moment of peace and freedom. My thoughts drift to Declan for a brief moment. Steve at the bar had warned me that he doesn’t do relationships. The tension in my shoulders eases - finally there is one man who doesn’t want me. And frankly, I don’t want him either. In another life where we both cared about protecting innocent people, maybe we could have been together - two individuals united in their desire to stop evil people from hurting others.
I can almost see his big green eyes staring into mine as he stands tall and strong, giving me orders while also making me feel safe and secure. “Just one night of safety,” I say out loud to myself.
CHAPTER THREE
DECLAN
Her arms wrap snugly around my waist as I guide my Harley through the quiet streets of my small town. The warmth of her touch lingers, and I wish she’d keep them there longer. I shake off the memory, willing myself to focus on anything else.
I admire Meridea for leaving toxic situations. Maybe this isn’t a bad situation. She could be running from a stalker. The way she clutches that backpack so tightly, it’s like she’s guarding something precious. Whatever it is, I’ll just have to wait until she’s ready to tell me who—or what—she’s running from.
Kneeling by the fireplace, I use a poker to stir the logs. My white undershirt clings to my muscular chest while the black pajama pants hang low on my hips.
“That feels good,” she says from behind.
My cock strains in my pants again. This has to be the fourth or fifth time this has happened since I’ve been in her presence.
