He grins, handing me the mug of coffee from the tray Eileen just brought in. “Oh, it’s been busy. Our people in Glasgow say the MacTavish soldiers turned the city inside out. There are calls out to every one of the families allied with them and a few to enemy ones as well. They didn’t trace her to the auction last night, but those pictures you sent to the family certainly raised a fuss.”
I down half the mug of coffee, waiting for the caffeine to do its work. “Given that they’ll trace the images back to Cape Town, South Africa, after that exceptional rerouting job, the bastards will have their hands full for a while.”
“Yeah, Terrence and Lucy know their shite,” he agrees. “Remember the time they remotely unlocked every door in the Morales compound and changed the code before they could?”
I chuckle, my hackers do exemplary work, enough that I allow them the occasional prank.
“So, what’s the plan for your guest upstairs?”
“She stays in her room. The door locked. No one speaks to her,” I stare at him levelly. “She doesn’t know who I am, and we will keep it that way.”
“Like a prisoner of war, eh?” He’s lost some of his joviality.
“I’m not torturing her,” I say sharply. “Do you think she’d be better off with that insane fuck Zhang?”
“No Boss,” he says. “It’s just… we’ve never kept female captives.”
“Really,” I scoff. “Did you think I would send her home to her fucking family with a pat on the head? After everything they’ve done?”
“No Boss,” Callum agrees heavily, rising to his feet. “I’ll be checking guard rotations if you need me.”
If I didn’t know my Second’s loyalty to me was absolute, I would have made him regret questioning me.
Turning to my laptop, I pull up the surveillance camera in the girl’s bedroom. She’s sleeping face down, arms and legs spread out as if to claim the entirety of the king-sized mattress.
She must be a challenge to sleep with.
Why would I think that? I don’t sleep with women after I’ve had sex with them. I rarely even bring one home.
Still… the position she’s in makes me think of tying her, spread open wide, to my bed. Those long arms and legs of her inrestraints, a thin sheen of sweat as she waits for me to bring her to orgasm in a dozen different ways…
The spill of her fiery hair over the white sheets is beautiful, a masterpiece any artist would fight to paint. Her mouth is slightly open, her beautiful features relaxed. As I watch, a frown creases her brow, her lips moving in some soundless plea as her arms and legs thrash and kick, fighting against an invisible assailant. I hit the volume button just in time to hear her scream in terror, her voice sounds younger, like a child as she moans, “Please please please not them don’t hurt them please don’t!”
Somehow, I’m up the stairs and in front of her bedroom before I realize what I’m doing and she screams again as I open the door.
“Shh… hush now. You’re safe.” I pull the covers up that she’s kicked off, settling them around her waist. Her silver-grey eyes are open, but I suspect she’s still swimming in the river of her nightmares.
“Don’t…” she whispers, “hit me instead.”
I pull my hand back. Her lovely features are still twisted in terror.
“Sit up, there’s a good girl.” I kept my voice low, calming as I helped her upright and put pillows behind her back. “Are you awake now?”
She sucks in a deep breath and nearly chokes letting it out. When she finally looks up at me, her gaze is focused and wary. “Wh- what are you doing in here?”
“You were screaming,” I deflect.
Passing a shaking hand over her sweaty forehead, she whispers, “Sorry.” She refuses to look at me, keeping her chin down until I raise it.
“Take some slow, deep breaths. What are three things you can see in this room?”
Her breath hitches.
“Go on,” I prod, “three things you can see.”
Pulling up her blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders, she takes another deep breath. “The pot of flowers on the windowsill.” Her voice is small and shaky. “The red rug by the door.”
“One more.”
