Savage Desires (Black Rose Doms Book 3)

Chapter 12

My skin itchesas I watch Kisten walk away. I really need to get a hold of my unhealthy attachment to him. It”s not sustainable. He will leave me sooner or later; the quicker I accept it, the better off I”ll be. I don”t understand how or why I”ve latched onto him like I have. I”ve never felt so safe and protected. Not even with my dad, who would”ve done anything for me.

Stupid delusions. That”s the only thing I can think of that caused such a sick need to be with Kisten every second. Just going to the bathroom was hard. I couldn”t even stay away long enough to brush my hair. Though that turned out amazingly well. I”ve never had anyone spend so much time brushing my hair. My dad did his best but never got the hang of doing girly stuff like that.

In the cage, I thought I was safe to escape into dreams of Kisten saving me. I made up so many scenarios that starred him saving me, protecting me… loving me. God, how stupid could I be? Now, my feelings can”t separate fantasy and reality. I knew I was fucked in the head, but this is next-level fucked.

I survived six years with my sanity. I didn”t break no matter what they threw at me, and here I am, safe and free with a broken mind full of delusions. Why did I let Kisten become my happy place? What about that one interaction made my mind latch onto him? The only answer I have is kindness. For the first time in six years, someone stood up for me. He was gentle and took care of me. He was pissed at what had been done to me. I was so starved for human connection that all it took was one nice thing from a stranger to make me obsessed.

”Now that he”s gone, are you really okay?” Tabitha asks.

I want to yell at her for insinuating that Kisten would harm me. He saved us, for fuck”s sake. He brought us somewhere safe. If he wanted to hurt us, he would have already. Hell, he could have left us to be raped, tortured, and killed instead of saving our lives. He spent nearly a hundred grand to buy me.

”I”m fine. Kisten won”t hurt me. He saved us,” I say firmly, reminding them that he”s not the bad guy here.

”I know… it”s hard to trust that we are safe here,” Tabitha says sadly.

”Did he tell you what they”re going to do with us?” Reghan whispers.

I shake my head. ”No… I was pretty out of it when I regained consciousness. The doctor checked me over, then I took a shower and slept. I don”t even know how long I”ve been here…”

”It”s Monday,” Lexis says, setting her book aside.

My eyes widen. I must”ve been unconscious for longer than I thought. No wonder Kisten looks so exhausted. Though I noticed he”s wearing different clothes today, he must”ve showered and changed while I slept.

”Now you know why we worried,” Lucy says with a pout.

For some reason, I doubt she was as worried about me as she claims. Unless it”s because she didn”t have me to hide behind. I don”t think she cares what happens to me. We”ve barely spoken in the months she was at Mecca, and I can”t say I particularly liked her. Being her friend was a dangerous thing. Considering her roommate is here as well says as much. Stacia wasn”t a troublemaker for Madame until Lucy came. Stacia hadn”t been at Mecca long, but she already had the lay of the land and knew how to avoid trouble. Lucy came, and she became difficult.

”How are you guys?” I ask, looking at each woman.

They all look surprisingly good. They are wearing nice clothes and look like they”ve gotten rest and a few good meals. They don”t look like a bunch of slaves anymore. Though I have no doubt some of it is a front so they don”t feel vulnerable in front of strangers. Lucy and Stacia are the only two who don”t seem to care who sees them cry and break down. In fact, it”s like they are begging for sympathy.

”We”re good. Everyone here is nice. Dr. Wolfe gave us all exams to make sure we are healthy. Gladys is an angel, and her daughter is great too. A few others have come in to help clean and bring supplies,” Tabitha answers for everyone.

”It”s boring here,” Lucy whines. ”They don”t have internet or cable TV! Just a bunch of DVDs… who even watches DVDs anymore?”

Her ungratefulness and judgment pisses me off. These people have taken us in and given us everything we could possibly need. And this isn”t the first time they”ve done it. They are well organized and have a freaking doctor that has an exam room here. This isn”t a one-time thing. How could anyone scoff in the face of all their kindness?

”Oh, shut up, Lucy. I”m about sick of your whining,” Reghan barks.

I raise my brows in surprise. Reghan has always been quiet and kept to herself if we were ever in a group. She likes to melt into the background as much as possible. She must really be annoyed with Lucy to snap like that. Makes me kind of happy to see her show some fire even if it is to tell someone to shut up. Reghan notices my look and shrugs with a smile.

”She”s been bitching since we got here. You should see the crap she asked them for when they asked if we wanted anything specific,” she says with disgust.

”Do you know how long it”s been since I had decent clothes? Not to mention shampoo and conditioner. Makeup! Ugh. It”s been forever…”

”You asked for special shampoo and makeup?” I ask, floored by her audacity.

”Of course. They said anything. I”m sure you asked for something, too,” she says accusingly.

I frown because she”s right. I did ask for something frivolous. A notebook and a pencil aren”t expensive, though—not like specialty toiletries and makeup. And I said I would be happy with a partially used notebook and pen they have lying around.

”See, you did ask for something,” she says. She obviously feels validated knowing I selfishly asked for something special.

”What did you request?” Tabitha asks curiously.

I look down at my clasped hands. ”A notebook and pencil. I told them it could be an extra they had lying around, but I have a feeling Gladys didn”t listen.”

Lucy”s mouth falls open. ”Paper and a pencil?” she says incredulously. ”That”s what you asked for?””

I shrug. ”I like to draw. It”s been a long time…”

”I asked for a book,” Lexis says, holding up the book she”s reading.

Tabitha laughs. ”I got gummy worms. I asked for cake too. Gladys is baking one. She nearly had a conniption when I said it could be store-bought or a boxed cake.”

I smile. I never would”ve guessed that Tabitha would ask for candy and dessert, though I don”t really know her, so maybe that”s not unusual for her.

”Reghan and Stacia asked for a bunch of stuff, too!” Lucy says snottily.

Reghan scoffs. ”Mine wasn”t frivolous crap.”

”What did you get?” I ask, curious.

She blushes. ”A bug-out bag.”

”Smart,” I say. ”Maybe I should change my request…”

”You can have both,” Kisten says, making me jump. ”Sorry, didn”t mean to startle you…”

I wave him off. ”Not your fault that I”m jumpy.”

”Do you want a bug-out bag, beauty?”

I blush at his pet name for me. I love it but don”t want anyone to get the wrong impression regarding our relationship. Not that we have a relationship. Lord, I”m a freakin” mess.

”It would help for when you let us leave,” I say quietly.

”First of all, you”re not captives here. I brought you here to rest and regroup. We were waiting until you were better before discussing your options. Secondly, I would never just send you out to fend for yourself.”

I try to ignore that he”s only looking at me when he says that last bit. I don”t want to read into it, but it”s next to impossible not to when he”s looking at me with such conviction. I wish I could read his mind because his words feel like they have a deeper meaning when directed at me.

”Options?” I ask.

”Yes, options. If you ladies would like to have that talk now, we can. I was just coming to tell you that Gladys has snacks in the dining room for you.”

I look at each woman and see equal parts fear and hope on their faces. I don”t wait for them to decide what to do. I stand up and go to Kisten”s side. That itchy feeling under my skin instantly fades the closer I get. He pulls me into his arms as soon as I”m within touching distance. I hear gasps behind me, but I don”t care. I sink into him, soaking up the safety he offers.

”She works fast,” Lucy fake whispers.

I hear a smacking sound, and I quickly turn to find Tabitha standing before Lucy, glaring. It”s obvious that Tabitha just slapped her because she”s holding her cheek with a shocked expression.

”Listen here, you little bitch, Willow and Kisten saved your fucking life. Willow almost died saving you from those guards in the woods. Show some goddamned respect.” By the time she”s done talking, her chest is heaving, and her face is red from anger.

”It”s okay, Tabitha. She”s not worth it,” I say. ”Let”s go find out what our options are.”

She storms past Lucy, shoulder-checking her as she goes. I bite down a chuckle at the indignant look Lucy gives her. I have a feeling that smack has been building up for days… maybe longer if they knew each other at Mecca. Unfortunately, Lucy is very slappable.

I expect Kisten to scold Tabitha for hitting her, but he doesn”t say anything. When the others are gone, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. ”You okay, beauty?”

”Yeah. Lucy is selfish and doesn”t have any survival instinct to speak of. She was at the auction because she was a liability,” I shrug. ”She tried to get club members that weren”t underground clients to help her the first time they had her scene on the main floor.”

”What happened?”

”Nothing. Madame and one of the guards stepped in and smoothed things over. Lucy was punished and has only been allowed in private rooms since.”

He shakes his head. ”She also cries. A lot.”

I giggle. ”Yes. Even though our cells were pretty far apart, I could hear her crying all the time. It really grated on my nerves. I think that Tabitha was closer to her room.”

”That explains a lot. Gladys says Lucy”s been taking shots at everyone. She was very mad that we don”t have internet here.”

I roll my eyes. ”I heard. Priorities.”

He chuckles. ”Yep.”

”Come on, beauty. Let”s get you a snack.”

The dining room is much bigger than I expected. The whole house is bigger than average, though still homey. The table is big enough to seat at least twenty people. There are tables set up on both sides of the room for buffet-style serving. The women are crowded around one of those tables, filling their plates.

I pick up a plate, and Kisten takes it, raising his brow in a way that says, ”What are you going to do about it.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If I took the plate back, he would let me, but I like that he wants to take care of me. He won”t be around forever, so I will soak up his caretaking while he”s here.

”What do you want, beauty?”

My stomach fills with butterflies, not just from the pet name but the way he looks at me so tenderly. This fierce man is capable of great violence, yet he”s been nothing but gentle with me. He brushed my hair until I felt like a puddle of mush from how good it felt. The two sides—hard and soft—of him are why I sunk so deep into my delusions in the cage.

I brush my feelings aside and focus on the food. Everything looks amazing. I want one of everything… Though I”d never eat it all, I refuse to waste food.

”The muffins look good…”

”Gladys makes the best baked goods. What flavor? Chocolate chocolate chip, blueberry, banana nut, or poppyseed?”

My mouth waters at the options… If the muffins weren”t so big, I would pick two, but these are huge, and I won”t even be able to finish one.

”Why don”t we share a plate? That way, you can pick whatever you want, and I can finish what you don”t eat,” he offers.

”Thank you,” I choke out. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I force them back. I will not cry because Kisten is being nice to me.

I slowly fill the plate with everything that looks good. A chocolate chocolate chip muffin, a blueberry muffin, two different mini quiches, and a variety of veggies from a tray. Broccoli, celery, carrots, brightly colored peppers, and tiny tomatoes. I drool over the fruit options next. I look at my full plate with sadness because there”s not an inch of space after all that. The fruit looks so good I”m tempted to put the muffins back. I haven”t had fresh veggies and fruit since I was taken. It was leftovers and scraps even in the places they fed us decently.

Kisten grabs a bowl and holds it out to me. My heart does another flip at how easily he reads me and how seamlessly he provides whatever I want and need. My attachment to him isn”t going away while he”s being so doting and wonderful. That”s a problem for another time. For now, I fill my bowl with berries of all kinds, kiwi, and pineapple. Oh, and I grab a banana.

I really hope Kisten isn”t allergic to anything and that he likes everything I picked because I know I got way too much of everything. I doubt I can finish even half of it, but it all looks so good I can”t help myself. Kisten takes the bowl from me and leads me to two empty chairs.

”What would you like to drink?” he asks.

”Water is fine.”

He frowns. ”There”s coffee, juice, lemonade, and soda…”

I used to love coffee, but I don”t want to go back to craving it like a caffeine addict. It might sound silly, but I”m not keen on rejoining the world of caffeine-starved people. I”ve lived without it for years, and there”s no sense in going back to any kind of dependency.

”Lemonade sounds great, but I”m really okay with water…”

He lets out a low growl and walks out of the room. The girls are looking at me strangely.

”What?”

”He”s a little intense…” Tabitha murmurs.

”Is he?” I ask. I think back to our interactions, trying to see things from an observer”s eyes. I guess maybe he could appear intense, but that”s not how it feels to me. It feels caring to the point where he”s spoiling me.

Stacia snorts and rolls her eyes. ”It”s obvious he”s claimed you.”

”He owns her,” Lucy adds.

Stacia nods. ”No man spends ninety-three thousand dollars on a woman for anything good. That”s why he”s kept us apart. Probably working the Stockholm angle.”

”That”s dumb. He saved us,” Tabitha defends.

”And yet here we are, trapped all over again,” Lucy snarls.

I grit my teeth at how they are talking about Kisten. ”We aren”t trapped. He told you that. Besides, you don”t know him…”

”And you do?” Reghan asks, looking nervous. Lucy and Stacia”s accusations are making her anxious. Bitches.

”I”ve met him before. He saved me from a public scene that got out of hand at Mecca. My client whipped me unconscious, and he wouldn”t have stopped if Kisten hadn”t stepped in. He took me to the aftercare area and held me until I woke up. He would”ve done more, but Madame came for me…”

Lucy and Stacia look at each other, but I can tell my words have had no effect on them. They”ve decided he”s the enemy. Maybe telling them he was at Mecca just solidified their assumptions. I don”t care what they think. They”re wrong about him. He”s not a monster like the men who took us and all the clients who paid to hurt us. He”s different.

”Is that why you were in the cage?” Tabitha asks.

I shrug. ”It was an important client. Punishment was inevitable.”

”See, he got you punished! You could”ve died,” Lucy accuses.

I narrow my eyes on her. ”Kisten didn”t know anything about my situation. He tried to help me. And he bought me to save me. If he hadn”t been there that night, we would all be dead.”

My words make everyone but Lucy relax… Stacia seems to be waiting to see how Lucy will respond, but even she looks less hostile than she did.

”He still owns you,” Lucy snarls.

”I”m glad! I”ll proudly be his. He”s a good man! I”ll get down on my knees and willingly thank him in whatever way he wants for buying me. He owns me, and I wouldn”t change it!”

I”m yelling by the end of my statement. I was so lost in my anger that I didn”t notice that Kisten had returned holding a cup of coffee and a tall glass of lemonade. My anger deflates, and I sag in my chair, looking at my plate like it”s the most interesting thing in the world, even though my appetite has disappeared.

Kisten quietly sits beside me and sets my lemonade on the table. From the sound of forks scraping on plates, I can tell the other women have decided to pretend that the argument didn”t happen. None of them are brave enough to accuse Kisten of anything to his face, only talk shit behind his back.

I”m pretty sure Lexis, Tabitha, and Reghan acknowledge that Kisten is one of the good guys and isn”t going to hurt us. Lucy is just a spoiled bitch and is taking her anger at her situation out on everyone else. Stacia is just weak and willing to be a pawn to Lucy”s whims. I don”t know why I”m surprised by Lucy”s change of demeanor. She played the part of the broken slave who cried at every turn. In reality, she was just manipulating everyone. I don”t know how I didn”t see that sooner. Pisses me off that I fell for her act.

Kisten rests a warm hand on my thigh and gently squeezes it. It makes me feel better even though I”m embarrassed that he heard me declare I would happily get on my knees for him. Even if I didn”t mean that I would sexually pleasure him and more that I would worship at his feet for saving me, I know how it sounded.

If I”m honest with myself, I”d admit that I would be more than happy to pleasure him as well. I”ve never been attracted to a man like I am to him. I was taken when I was too young to have such intense feelings towards someone. Now I”m a grown woman and am feeling attraction for the first time. It”s both scary and exhilarating.

He”s not been inappropriate with me; for all I know, he”s only taking care of me because he feels responsible for me. It could be completely platonic. It probably is… who would be attracted to a woman who”s been a sex slave for six years. I”m damaged beyond repair.

Dirty.

Ruined.

The negative words keep coming. Spinning in my mind like a maelstrom of acid. Each one is a reminder of how unworthy I am of someone like Kisten. Another squeeze to my thigh breaks the spiral. Kisten leans in and pushes my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear with his free hand. I glance over at him and find him looking at me with an intensity I”ve never witnessed from anyone before.

His lips brush against my ear as he speaks for only me to hear. ”You”re my prized possession, beauty. Mine.”

Shivers skate down my spine at his claim. A whole field of red flags is waving in front of me, but I don”t care. Being his doesn”t scare me. The thing that terrifies me is him sending me away. No matter how hard I try to make it make sense, I can”t explain it. I”m his, and it feels like I”ve always been his. Like I”ve just been waiting for him to come claim me. At the same time, I think he”s mine. It doesn”t feel like a one-way street. As ridiculous as it is, something tells me Kisten is mine as much as I”m his. Even when my mind tries to convince me otherwise, how he looks at me and how he acts contradicts my thoughts.

I could be wrong. It”ll be a painful crash into reality if I am wrong, but I”ve already decided to soak him up while I have him. He”s the only good thing I”ve had in forever, and I refuse to deny myself. I”ll deal with the fallout afterward.

”Do you hear me, love?” His voice is still whisper quiet, but there”s no mistaking the command in his tone.

I nod.

”Good girl. Eat.”

Another shiver races through me at his praise and command. I think I would do anything he asks just to get another ”good girl” from his sexy lips. Especially in that low voice that caresses my insides, filling me with heat.

I easily obey. Picking up the chocolate muffin. I remove the paper and tear off a small piece. There”s no holding back my moan of pleasure at the rich, chocolatey goodness. It”s so soft it melts on my tongue. It”s the perfect balance of sweet and bitter from the dark chocolate chips baked inside. I eat two more bites before putting it down and picking up the blueberry muffin. I eat two bites of that one. It”s good, but the chocolate was definitely better.

I eat a bite of each quiche, enjoying the savory flavors that explode on my tongue. I”ve seriously never eaten something so good. Not even when Dad took me to fancy restaurant openings as his plus one instead of a date. People gave him hell for it, but he always said he would rather spend time with his forever girl than someone looking to be seen on his arm. It always made me feel special. My mom didn”t want me, but my dad chose me every single time.

A slight pang of regret burns in my heart. I”ve spent a long time over the years wondering what my dad”s been doing since I disappeared. Did he find a nice woman and settle down? Did he stay single and lonely? What if he started a new family and forgot all about me? Part of me hates that thought. If I had to be in pain, then everyone should be. His being as miserable as me was a small consolation when compared to what I was living through. As the days and months turned to years, my hopes for him changed from selfish, childish wants to prayers that he found happiness somehow.

I know he was devastated by my disappearance. Undoubtedly, he did everything in his power to find me. He probably blamed himself for not protecting me better. It wasn”t his fault, though. Hell, it wasn”t even my fault. I did nothing wrong. I was in the wrong place and at the wrong time. Or maybe I was stalked, and it was premeditated. I won”t ever know for sure.

Either way, I was walking from the café where I sometimes did my homework—okay, it was more about the amazing cookies” n cream milkshake than homework, but homework got done, too—to Dad”sgym. It was less than a block away. You could see the gym from the door of the café, that”s how close it was.

So close to safety, yet so far away. Being alert to possible dangers didn”t prepare me for the flower delivery man. Standing in the van”s doorway, he looked benign, as if he was reaching for his next delivery. It took seconds for him to turn and grab me. I fought like hell, but three grown men against one sixteen-year-old girl was an impossible to win fight. I didn’t go down easy. In the end, I was conquered by a needle stabbed into my neck. The burning liquid stopped my struggles as I fell into darkness.

That was it.

I was trained in every kind of self-defense and could fight grown men like a teenage badass, yet it took seconds to render it all useless. All that work and time spent learning to protect myself didn”t matter. I force those thoughts away with the strength of an exorcism. I spent forever coming to terms with what happened and realizing I couldn”t have done anything differently to prevent being taken. I was up against multiple grown men. It was impossible. I won”t succumb to all those ugly feelings and thoughts again.

The only thing that lingers is thoughts of my dad. Now that I”m free, nothing is preventing me from finding him. Getting answers to all those questions I”ve had over the years. I could finally know if he found happiness after I disappeared or if he”s still suffering from losing me. If I”m being honest, both options scare me.

One means he was able to forget about me and no longer has a place in his life for me. I”m a ghost right now. Discovering I”m still alive and learning everything I”ve been through will only hurt him and the happiness he”s found. The other means he”s suffered and has lived the last six years with a pain he didn”t deserve. Both suck. I try not to think of the third option… that dad is gone.

What if he died while I was in captivity? What if I never get to see him again? What will I do if that choice has been taken away from me? Yeah, I don”t want to even consider that one. He”s happy with a new family. Living the life he deserves. The life my unselfish heart wants for him. I”ll keep the selfish thoughts buried deep inside me because there”s no place for them when it comes to someone I love.

”Are you full?” Kisten asks with a frown.

I jerk back to the here and now and realize I”ve been holding a piece of broccoli halfway to my mouth for who knows how long. I shake my head no and bite into the veggie. It tastes so bad I nearly spit it out. How could I forget I hate broccoli so violently? I drop the rest on my plate and gulp down my lemonade to erase the flavor from my tongue.

”Ugh.” I push the other two pieces of broccoli away from everything else on my plate in case the flavor is contagious. So gross.

”If you don”t like broccoli, why did you get it?” Kisten asks, sounding amused.

”I forgot…”

His amusement immediately evaporates. ”What else don”t you like?”

I look at the other things on my plate and frown realizing I grabbed several things I don”t like just because they look good and fresh. It”s a stark reminder of how out of touch with myself I am. I picked foods I hate because they look pretty and are fresh. I”m so used to food that”s on the verge of being spoiled that fresh food overrode my preferences.

Then it registers that I can have preferences now. When I was a slave, I ate what was provided. It wasn”t about flavor. It was about survival. If there was a plate of half-rotten tomatoes, you ate a plate of half-rotten tomatoes. You ate whatever was given to you and were grateful that you weren”t going hungry that day. I no longer have to force myself to choke down whatever is in front of me. I have choices.

I push aside the tomatoes and peppers so they are with the broccoli. Kisten grunts and picks up a pepper, popping it in his mouth. I hear the crunch of freshness as he chews, and for some strange reason, it makes me happy. He eats a piece of broccoli while I nibble on a baby carrot. I remember being a kid and demanding ranch before I even considered eating a raw veggie. I decide here and now that I was a dumbass. This carrot is sweet and delicious. It would be such a waste to drown it in ranch.

The rest of the women finish eating and are chatting quietly, some sneaking peeks at Kisten and me as we share a plate. When the plate is empty, Kisten sets the fruit bowl on it. I look at what I selected with a frown, realizing I did the exact same thing with the fruit that I did with the veggies.

Kisten wordlessly sets an empty bowl beside the plate and hands me a spoon. I carefully extract the raspberries, blackberries, and kiwi from my bowl and put them in the empty one. With a grunt of approval, Kisten takes the discarded fruit and eats it while I enjoy my strawberries, blueberries, and pineapple. I nudge the banana his way, and he eats it too.

When Kisten”s bowl is empty, he clears his throat and looks at each woman in turn. ”I”m sure you all have a lot of questions. I assure you I will answer them all, but first, I want to let you know exactly what I do and what your options are going forward. Okay?”

Tabitha and Lexis agree with an ”okay.” Reghan and Stacia nod. Lucy glares and looks like she sucked on a rotten lemon. Bitch. Kisten looks down at me for my response. Whatever he sees on my face is answer enough because he immediately starts talking.

”I”m part of an organization that is dedicated to taking down human trafficking rings. We save the women and children those organizations prey on and help them.”

”You”ve done this before?” Lexis asks, almost in awe.

He nods with a grim look. ”More times than I”d like to think about.”

”So you free the victims, and the bad guys get arrested?” Reghan asks.

”No.”

Her eyes widen with fright. ”W-what do you do with v-victims?”

”We help,” he says simply.

”And the traffickers?” Tabitha asks with narrowed eyes.

Kisten”s lips curve up in a feral smile. ”Disappear.”

Everyone seems to think about that for a moment, and none of us seem bothered by the fact that he basically just told us that he murders people. It should maybe make me wary of Kisten to know he”s capable of murder, but it doesn”t. In fact, it only makes me feel safer with him. He kills evil people and helps people who need help. In my book, that makes him a good man. A hero. Not all heroes wear capes or shiny white armor. I prefer a dark knight who will burn down the world to protect me.

Vigilante justice works for me. After having judges, politicians, and other law enforcement people taking advantage of me and women like me, I have no issue with the law being circumvented. People are corrupt. The ones who should have a firm moral compass are liars and manipulators.

Yeah, fuck them.

Let men like Kisten take charge and dole out the punishments people like them deserve. A bloodthirsty little voice inside me wants to take part in that. I fought for my life the night of the auction, expecting to die. Now that I”m still alive, I want to keep fighting back. I want to help Kisten burn down the seedy underbelly of the world.

I haven”t thought much about what will happen now that I”m free. I don”t know what is out there for someone like me, but I like the idea of making a difference by taking out human traffickers.

Yeah. I like that thought a lot. I”m unsure how I”ll convince Kisten that I”m up for the task, but I will. Every hero needs a sidekick, and I”m about to be the best fucking sidekick ever. One filled with fire and rage and a desire to make someone fucking pay for everything that has been done to me. For the life that was ripped away from me and so many women and children like me.

”Gladys”s house is like a halfway house. It”s a safe place we bring people for medical attention and to figure out their next steps,” he says.

Lucy scoffs. ”It”s just another prison with nicer captors.”

That earns her icy glares from everyone and a ticking jaw from Kisten. I can tell he”s losing his patience with her bullshit.

”Shut the fuck up, Lucy,” Tabitha growls. ”Do you have any idea what was going to happen to you that night?”

She rolls her eyes. ”It doesn”t change that we went from one prison we couldn”t leave to another nicer prison. Or did you not notice the locks on all the doors and windows? Or that no one will let us use the internet or make a phone call?”

”That”s for safety measures. You”ve been told that repeatedly,” Tabitha says.

”When this conversation is over, you are free to do whatever you want. I will personally put you in a car and drive you to the bus station,” Kisten says, barely holding back his annoyance.

”The bus?” she stutters.

He smirks. ”Yep. There”s a bus depot that will take you wherever you wish to go. You”ll be free of this nice prison you hate so much.”

Tabitha and I are both fighting back smiles at how horrified Lucy is to hear her own words thrown back at her and the fact that he would willingly just dump her at a bus station to figure shit out. I”m horrible because I find a certain amount of joy in that idea. After how she”s treated everyone since I came downstairs, I don”t feel any pity for her. I can imagine she”s been horrible to poor Gladys and anyone else who”s been helping us.

”Back to the options you have. The first one is pretty obvious… We can arrange for you to go home.”

Reghan blanches and shakes her head no. Tabitha”s face is entirely void of emotion, as is Lexis”s. Lucy looks pleased. Stacia looks lost. Me? I have no idea how I look because I have no idea how to feel. Home seems like such a foreign concept. And it would make me have to face whatever direction my dad”s life took after I was taken…

Totally not ready to deal with those emotions yet.

”Your second option is Hope House. We have several locations across the country that are dedicated to helping women like you. Hope House provides everything you need for a fresh start. You”ll have a place to stay for as long as you need one. It”s set up sort of like a hotel. Everyone has their own room and private bathroom. The bottom two floors are communal living areas, a game room, a library, a kitchen, a dining room, a laundry room, and an office space.

”Everyone that stays there helps out with chores. We don”t hire outside workers to keep things safe for the residents. Everyone that works for Hope House is dedicated to the safety of its residents and helping those residents heal.”

He lets his words sink in for a minute before he continues.

”Hope House provides several types of therapy and any medical care needed. If you didn”t graduate from high school, they will help you get your diploma. If you want to go to college, that”s also an option. If neither of those appeals and you want to go straight to work, they can help you find a job that will suit you.

”Money isn”t a concern, though. Everyone is paid for doing chores. You also get an allowance for clothes and other essentials when you arrive, so you”ll start with anything you might need.”

”Wow… that seems too good to be true,” Lexis says.

Tabitha nods in agreement. ”How do they fund something like that? I”ve never heard of such a place.”

Kisten smirks. ”The money comes from the trafficking rings we take down. The money they covet so badly that they are willing to do atrocious things is used to help heal the same women they hurt. As far as anyone is concerned, Hope House doesn”t exist. You will never hear of it, and if anyone tries to find any of the locations, they will fail.”

”What if one of the women there tells someone about it?” she asks.

”They won”t. Everyone who walks through the doors of one of our facilities is there because they need a fresh start. They are loyal to the cause. Many of them end up working for us in one capacity or another.”

”What if we don”t want to go home and don”t want to go to Hope House? Do you just dump us somewhere with nothing?” Stacia asks, speaking up for the first time.

”We will help you get your legal documents sorted—ID, birth certificate, social security card, and whatever else you need to settle somewhere. We give you five thousand dollars and whatever clothes and extras you acquire here. Then we will drop you off wherever you want—bus station, airport, or train station.”

”We”re really free?” she asks in awe.

Kisten nods. ”Yes, you are free. Everything we do in places like this is to keep you and everyone else involved safe. It has nothing to do with imprisoning you.”

For the first time, I see the hold Lucy seems to have on Stacia crack. Maybe she isn”t a lost cause. I have zero faith in Lucy being anything better than a snotty, ungrateful bitch, but there is hope for Stacia.

”Any questions?” he asks.

I sit quietly beside him as he answers dozens of questions from the other women, mainly about Hope House. Lucy asks how much money she can have if she decides to go home. I almost thought Kisten”s head would explode, but he calmly told her none. She pouted and said how unfair it was until Tabitha shut her down with threats of violence that had me fighting back laughter.

Kisten looks at me often throughout the conversation. I can tell he”s waiting for me to ask something or tell him my thoughts, but I stay silent. I don”t want any of the three options he presented. I want option four. I want him to keep me. I want to help tear down the people who own Mecca piece by piece, along with whoever runs the mansion and the auctions. I want vengeance, not the peaceful future he”s painting for everyone else.

By the end of the conversation, Tabitha, Lexis, and Reghan have all decided to go to one of the Hope House locations. Gladys is going to help them choose which one they want to start their new lives at. Lucy wants to go home to L.A., where her dad is some hotshot talent agent. Stacia reluctantly says she”ll go to Hope House when she realizes that Lucy isn”t taking her back to L.A. with her.

Everyone focuses their attention on me, waiting for my choice. I look up at Kisten with searching eyes. His dark eyes are guarded as he waits for me to voice my decision. I lick my lips nervously, wondering if I should talk to him in front of everyone or in private. A devilish little part of me wants to stake a claim on him in front of the others. I definitely don”t want to tell him everything in front of them. It”ll be a fight to get what I want.

”Can I think about it?” I ask, deciding that a private conversation is the best option.

”Of course,” he says.

I swear I see relief in his eyes that I asked for more time. Is it possible that he wants to keep me? That”s too much to hope for. He”s already given me more than I ever anticipated when he helped us escape. He”s not just freeing us. He”s offering an entire future of our choosing. It”s a dream come true for anyone in my position. A miracle.

Gladys comes in with a thick binder. ”So, who wants to pick their new home?” she asks with an almost giddy excitement.

The women that are going to Hope House follow her into the living room eagerly. I”m happy for them. I hope they find what they are looking for and are able to heal and live happy lives. They deserve it after everything.

”When can I go home?” Lucy asks snottily.

Kisten sighs. ”I”ll start making arrangements today.”

”I want to talk to my dad now,” she says petulantly.

”And I told you we don”t allow calls from anyone outside the organization from this location. If you”d like me to give you the cash in my wallet and a ride to the bus station, that can be arranged.” He isn”t even trying to hide his annoyance anymore.

She gets up and stomps off down the hall, probably to her room to pout.

”Is it wrong that I feel bad for her father?” I ask.

Kisten shakes his head, chuckling. ”I was thinking the same thing.”

”Do you get people like her often?”

”We”ve had a few, but most people are so grateful and happy to be somewhere safe that they don”t even consider acting that way. It”s why so many of the women we help end up working with us in some capacity.”

Before I can tell him how amazing he is and how much a place like Hope House means to women like me, I let out a jaw-cracking yawn.

Kisten”s eyes turn worried. ”You need more rest. Come on, beauty.”

I”m barely out of my chair before he swoops me into his arms. I don”t protest. Instead, I relax into his muscular chest and let him carry me up to my room. The room is clean, with a freshly made bed. Maybe Gladys has house fairies that clean up because there is no way she”s doing everything on her own. Kisten pulls the blankets down, settles me on the bed, then covers me.

”Are you leaving now?” I force myself to ask.

He looks conflicted but shakes his head. ”No, Willow. I”m not going anywhere.”

”Good,” I say simply.

”Get some rest, beauty.” He runs his fingers through my hair, then kisses my forehead before sitting in the chair.

I close my eyes and drift to sleep, knowing I”m safe with my dark knight here to protect me.