There’s only one thing I can do to protect her more than I am.
Chapter Seventeen
In which Sorcha finds herself continuing the MacTavish tradition.
Sorcha…
The next evening…
Rousing from a restless sleep as the light flips on, I blink, trying to focus as a cloth bundle is dropped on the bed.
“Get dressed.”
My captor is standing at the foot of the bed, his hands in his suit pockets and glaring down at me.
My heart starts pounding and I’m humiliated when my voice quivers. “What’s- what’s going on, then?”
He merely raises a brow, as if my question is merely the ridiculous prattle of a child.
“Get. Dressed,” he repeats. “Do something with your hair. I will be back to collect you in ten minutes, and we will leave, no matter what state you are in. So, I suggest you move quickly.”
Scrambling out of bed, I grab the clothing and hurry into the bathroom. He said, ‘Leave,’ aye? As in, we will be leaving this place? This could be my chance. If we leave here, maybe I can find the right moment to run.
Shaking out the clothing, I find a pretty silk dress, a deep crimson color, along with black heels. The two scraps of lace included with the dress don’t count as underwear. The G-string makes me cringe. Ignoring the feeling of the undies riding up my arse, I get dressed as quickly as I can, barely having time to run a brush through my hair before he returns.
“Come along,” he says, taking me by the arm. He seems angry about something and I slow down. Is he angry at me? Is he going to hurt me?
My knees nearly give out and I stumble. Is he taking me back to that place? Is hesellingme?
Sighing impatiently, he slips an arm the size of a tree trunk around my waist, moving me along.
“Where are ya’ taking me?” I whisper.
For once, he doesn’t chide me for speaking before being spoken to. “Judging by your trembling, you think I’m sending you back to the meat processing plant.”
My legs give out and I nearly land on the marble steps until he scoops me up.
“I am not,” he says harshly, “taking you back to the auction house. You will not be hurt. Do what you’re told and you’ll be just fine.”
I choke down a sob. “Define ‘just fine.’”
Eileen is standing by the open lift doors, twisting her hands together anxiously. She gives me a reassuring smile as the doors close, but it’s hard to feel comforted by it.
“Tell me where you’re taking me! Are you-”
He strides across the parking garage to the Maserati SUV, where Callum is holding the door for us, carefully expressionless. Hedoesn’t look at me as my captor lifts me onto a seat and fastens the seatbelt for me before heading to the other side.
The only thing I remember about the horrible night when he’d bought me was that the meatpacking plant was in a heavily industrial area. To my relief, it looks like we’re heading into the area by the Houses of Parliament instead. That doesn’t mean he’s not selling me or giving me away, though. The nasty scraps of lingerie stick to my suddenly sweaty skin.
I’m panicking. I know I am and I can’t shut up. My captor is staring - as usual - at his phone, frowning as he sends off a text. “Can ya’ not play with your phone for a moment, then?” My voice is high and shaky. His chilly gaze focuses on me.
“You must calm down.” His voice is deeper with his irritation, but I don’t think it’s directed at me. My captor is crabbit, as if he’s being compelled to do something he doesn’t want.
I canna imagine this man being compelled to do anything.
“Are you selling me?” I wheeze, putting my hand against my chest. The concrete is back, pouring into my chest and freezing my lungs and heart. “Are you giving me to someone?”
The bastard has the audacity to look surprised.
