Merrick
He knew she wasn’t asleep, but he gave her the pretense anyway.
Sitting her on the counter beside the bathroom sink, he soaked a cloth in warm water and gently cleaned her face, starting at her hairline and working his way down until he reached the base of her throat. When her skin was spotless, he reached over and snagged her toothbrush from the holder, squirting a generous line of paste across the bristles.
“Gonna brush your own teeth or need me to do it for you?” he asked.
Eyes still closed, she parted her lips wide enough to slip the toothbrush in, then simply sighed miserably. Her cast rested against her lower belly; her right hand kneaded the damp material of her pants in what he recognized as a self-soothing motion.
She was in shock.
Maybe he would be, too, if he’d run from something horrific and believed no one would trace his path back to his origins. Honestly, he was impressed Anarchy had done so with what little she’d been given—minute reactions to innocuous questions, and the territory of fucking lynx, for fuck’s sake. But there was no denying she’d struck gold—Tamsyn was indeed the double of the woman in that photo and, yes, there were traces of her father in this pretty face.
“Look at me, Tamsyn.” Frowning in concentration, Merrick started brushing her teeth—not the easiest thing to do when he was used to a certain motion when doing his own. He waited until her eyelids blinked open, revealing a dull, heavy stare. “Now, you’re gonna keep your eyes on me while I say my piece, okay?”
A dribble of toothpaste foam trickled over her lower lip when she nodded.
“Good girl. I know you’re a good girl, Tamsyn, and better yet, you’re my good girl now.” He caught the flicker behind her eyes when he said those two magic words, like a firefly trying to spark. “Don’t know what steered you this way, what voice in your head drove you down the mountains to come here, but I’m gonna believe there are reasons for it. One of those reasons is me.”
She hummed quietly.
“Gonna take a swing and guess you’re quaking down to the soul at the notion your father and his friends are coming down that mountainside to find you. Thinking, I don’t know, that they’re gonna waltz in here and lay down a sob story about how you’re special in the head, wandering away from a loving family, and they’ve been searching for you for weeks. Am I on the right track here, darlin’?”
Her shoulders shook, slumping dejectedly.
“Thought so. Let me tell you something about this place, Tamsyn. I told you it was a safe haven, a sanctuary, and I meant it. If those jackasses come looking for you, every damn Master and Mistress will swear on a fucking Bible they’ve never seen you.” He popped the toothbrush free and gestured to the sink. “Spit, little owl.”
While she obeyed with all the energy of a weary puppet on strings, Merrick rinsed the toothbrush and set it back in the holder. He filled the glass beside the sink half full, offering it to her. “Rinse.”
Eyes on his, she took a mouthful, swished it around her mouth, and spat it out into the sink as he tipped the rest of the water away and put the glass down.
Gently, he fisted his hand in her hair, tugging her head back. “There ain’t no way you’re going back to them, ‘less you walk out of here under your own steam, Tamsyn. You’re twenty-six, well above the legal age to do whatever the fuck you want. If you say no and they try to take you against your will… well, the fuckers are gonna have to go through me first, then through my friends. That ain’t happening, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
He almost heard her say, You don’t know them like I do.
“Don’t know them, but known others like them. Pompous, entitled, dickless fuckwits who use threats, violence, and bully tactics to get what they want. They think they can throw money around, maybe toss in a woman or two to sweeten a deal. That shit don’t fly around here, darlin’.”
She nodded as though agreeing with him would keep him in the dark. It was too late for that, even if she didn’t realize it yet. Her secrets were crawling out of the woodwork, and they wouldn’t stop until everything was in the light.
“I don’t want you getting so upset that you lose control of your bladder,” he told her firmly. “That kind of fear isn’t healthy. Throwing up when you get scared isn’t good for you either. We’re gonna figure out how to rein in the fear when it gets overwhelming instead of letting it run riot through you.”
Tamsyn plucked at her pants leg, obviously unhappy.
“For now, we’re going to get you naked and in the shower so you can wash away the stress. I’ll get you some juice, then you’re gonna take a nap.” He tapped a finger on her lips when she pouted. “I know when you’re exhausted, darlin’. We’ve been making progress on getting you to look and feel better; let’s not start going backwards.”
Reluctantly, she lifted her arms so he could wrestle her top off. The sweater was baggy enough to tug over her cast without too much trouble, and she wore one of his T-shirts underneath. It made him smile when she wore his clothes because they dwarfed her.
She’d gone without a bra, so her breasts jiggled slightly as he stripped her. Pinching a nipple, he rolled it until her ass squirmed on the counter. He loved that she was gaining weight, fleshing out her bones, healing physically if not mentally.
“Valentine’s Day is in two days,” he commented gruffly. “Know what that is?”
Biting her lip, she shook her head.
“Big day for romance. Flowers, chocolate, fancy meals, and a universal night for sex.” If she’d been a dog, her ears would’ve popped up straight. He watched her pit intrigue against the misery of the morning, and saw the moment intrigue won when her eyes finally brightened. “Think you’re ready to explore yourself some more?”
Tamsyn laid her hand over his on her breast, questions in her eyes.
“Yeah, you can have my fingers again.” She wouldn’t need to wait two days for them, though. His mouth curved when she lifted her hand to his face, her fingertips brushing his lips. “Maybe I’ll give you my mouth later, if you keep being a good girl today.”
The eager wriggle of her hips made him chuckle—she had no idea what she was asking for, no clue what his mouth could and would do to her.
“All right, on your feet, little owl, and get these pants off. Where did you put the waterproof cover for your cast?” He gave her nipple one last squeeze, then gripped her hips and lifted her down.
Struggling to push down the stretchy material with one hand, Tamsyn grunted in frustration until he yanked the wet pants down to her feet. She stepped out of them, then hurried over to the little set of drawers near the toilet where he’d stashed sundries like condoms and a box of tampons. She opened the top drawer and pulled out the plastic sleeve he’d bought her for when she preferred a shower over the bath.
It was a cross between a plastic mitten and a bag, he thought as she tugged it over her cast. The rubber seal fit smoothly around her slender forearm, just below her elbow.
“You gonna be okay in the shower if I leave you for a few minutes?” Merrick gestured to the bedroom. “I’ll get you a clean shirt for your nap.”
When she pouted, her eyes conveying her disappointment, he patted her arm. “Darlin’, you’re not ready for me to get in there with you. Seeing me naked is a gamechanger, trust me.”
Her gaze ticked down his body in steps until it stopped on the zipper of his jeans.
“Yes, that’s why,” he said, sidestepping around her to reach in and flick the shower on, adjusting the settings from his preferred cooler temperatures to her favored hotter-than-hell level of heat. “If I get in with you, my hands are gonna be all over your body. I’ll clean every inch of you from crack to crevice, then my mouth is gonna finish the job.”
Her pupils were dilated when he turned back to her, her mouth slack.
Merrick bent and touched his mouth to her ear. “I’ll fuck you, Tamsyn, right there against the wall, water beating down on us. Lift you up, spread you wide, and force my big cock into this sinfully tight cunt. It’ll hurt, little owl. You’ll stretch so far around me, you’ll wonder what the hell is stuffed in your pussy, filling you up so goddamn deep…” He inhaled slowly, savoring the image while knowing he wouldn’t be the man giving her that first vital sexual experience. “Be a good girl and take a shower, little owl. On your own.”
He kissed her forehead before walking out and almost fully closing the door. Bracing his back against the wall, he exhaled on a growl, releasing the pent-up frustration curdling his blood.
He was so screwed, it was unbelievable.
Finding someone to take her virginity wasn’t the hard part—the damn club was full of single—and attached—Doms who’d leap at the opportunity. He couldn’t even say choosing one of them was difficult, because there were only a handful of men he trusted within Serenity’s boundaries, and they were all Masters.
No, what was going to stick a wrench in his best-laid plans was convincing Tamsyn that this was the right thing to do. For her. Because she wasn’t going to like it any more than he did, but his options were limited.
Christ, they needed to talk.
It seemed like seconds passed before she emerged from the bathroom, hair dripping, and the towel wrapped haphazardly around herself. There was no arousal now, just tiredness, and it showed in the shuffle of her feet.
Merrick took her hand and led her to the bed. A gentle push on her slim shoulder sent her toppling, and she lay where she fell. He removed the towel and attacked her hair, rubbing it until it was damp rather than soaking wet, then dried the rest of her.
She was boneless when he eased her under the covers and tucked her in.
“I’ll check on you in an hour,” he told her quietly, but whether she heard him or not was debatable. From the way her face softened and her breathing slowed, he guessed she was already deep enough not to care about words.
He set out one of his shirts and her robe at the foot of the bed in case she woke.
When he returned to the living room, the carpet was spotless and the sadist wore a look of smugness. Even the acrid scent of vomit had been replaced by something that smelled like vanilla and citrus.
Anarchy had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, her legs crossed beneath her with her laptop precariously on her knees. She glanced up when he walked in. “Oh good, you’re back. Take a seat, Merrick.”
That didn’t bode well, he thought as he moved across to sit in his usual armchair.
“Your girl’s in shit up to her neck,” she said without preamble. “Unfortunately, she was born into it which makes it infinitely worse. Once someone passes all the checks and financial shit—or hacks their way into the website—Ridge Point’s entire agenda is laid out. Whoever set up and masked the website is at the top of their game. They’re smart, and due to the way they operate, there’s no risk of being picked up by the Feds because they’re not on the radar of any authority.”
“What, the Feds and the CIA don’t have their fingers in this pie?”
“They don’t even know this place exists.” Anarchy blew out a breath and set her hands on the arm of her chair. “If anyone pokes around, it’s a legitimate, off-grid community, but they don’t do anything to draw attention. Members who move there do so of their own accord. Alternative lifestyle, yadda blah. It’s what happens once they’re in there.”
“Okay. Tell me.”
“Once contracts are signed, they’re locked in. Private funds become a communal resource, used to maintain and expand the compound. They use the stock market, they pay taxes, everything is above board financially.” Her lip curled in disgust. “Morally, they’re corrupt. They’re very selective in who they accept as members—single men are preferable, but married couples are allowed. If they have kids, the children are taken into the indoctrination program—boys are educated, elevated to the higher ranks, brainwashed into believing the principals of the community.”
Merrick felt his hackles rise. “The girls?”
“No education. When I said Handmaid’s Tale level of shit, I meant it. They remain with their family, are reduced to products, essentially. They have no social life, are trained to be mindless little slaves who cook, clean, and have one purpose—to be a wife.” Anarchy was almost snarling now. “If a man sets his sights on a product he likes, he can offer a trade. They use their own monetary system, almost like credits, I guess, or they can barter skills. Daughters are a huge part of the trading system. Once a trade is agreed, contracts are signed and the girl is married off. The minimum age for a tradable product is twelve.”
The low growl from across the room told Merrick exactly what Jasper thought of that, and he was in full agreement. “They’re raping girls.”
“Not just raping them. There is no sexual contact allowed with products until the contract is signed. All products are traded with the guarantee that they’re virgins.”
Merrick’s blood ran stone cold.
“A trade is null and void if the husband is dissatisfied with the quality of his new wife. If he believes she is not pure, he gets his part of the deal back, and the inferior product is disposed of. If she doesn’t get pregnant, she is disposed of. If she doesn’t do everything he requires within the marriage…”
“They’re murdering girls, women.”
“Yes. It’s not written that way, of course, but you can read between the lines as well as I can. Children born into the community don’t exist in the outside world. Boys are given their version of a birth certificate in case they go on to be geniuses who can benefit the community using outside resources, but the girls… they don’t exist. There’s no record of them anywhere. They can disappear and no one cares.”
He thought of Tamsyn sleeping safely just a room away, and wanted to race back in to check she was still there.
This was what she was terrified of, and he couldn’t blame her. How did it feel, waking up every morning knowing that today might be the day someone took her freedom away?
Worse, that if she didn’t perform well enough in bed, her buyer had the option of returning her like a faulty fucking microwave, and she’d be…
“Motherfuckers,” he snarled, though his voice was too deep, too enraged, for snarl to be adequate. “If they come for her, it will be the last thing they ever fucking do.”
“Standing with you on that,” Jasper agreed in a tone colder than death. “We want to involve Atticus in this, Merrick. These guys have been doing this shit for a long time, and although they’re closed off from civilization, they haven’t let the world pass them by.”
“I’m raiding their financials,” Anarchy chimed in. “They have a security company in their pocket, providing armed operatives for guarding the compound boundaries. They’ve also invested heavily in a few tech companies, which means it’s likely they have access to surveillance technology.”
“How the fuck did she get out?”
“Your girl strikes me as being smart, Merrick. Scared, but smart. Her father’s one of the highest ranking members; smart women listen and learn when their lives are at stake.”
“There might be blind spots in their surveillance. Guards get lazy and complacent when they’re stuck on duty in the middle of nowhere.” Anarchy tapped a few keys. “She’s lucky they don’t have search dogs. No way she could have outrun them, even with a head start. Bet they’re rethinking that option right about now.”
“If we get Att involved, Tamsyn needs to talk. Any data she gives us could save lives.” Jasper crossed over to his wife, stroking long fingers over her shoulder. “Chances are he’s going to draft in Tabitha.”
“She can handle this.”
Sitting up straighter, Merrick held up his hand. “Wait. Wait one damn minute. Did you just say Tabitha?”
“Yes.”
“As in…”
Jasper smirked. “As in my sister, yes.”