Chapter 12 #2
Their fingers were laced together and resting on Josiah’s thigh, and Chelsea wasn't ashamed to admit she was sitting as close to him as she could manage without climbing into his lap.
No one had spoken the entire journey, and music played in the car, something classical that she wasn't paying attention to.
Knowing men with guns were sitting all around them, and she had no way of gauging their current state, whether they were relaxed, on edge, eyeing up her and Josiah as threats, or leering at her even though she was mostly covered now, had anxiety constantly churning in her stomach.
Each time it felt like it was swelling too big to contain, she’d hold onto Josiah’s hand a little tighter, and without fail, his thumb would begin to trace small circles on the inside of her wrist.
By the time the car finally seemed to roll to a stop, Chelsea knew it had to have been hours they’d been driving because the sun was warm on her skin as sunlight poured through the car windows.
“We’re here. Your home for the next several weeks,” Dr. Gant announced, and she let out a relieved breath knowing they were really there.
Now all they had to do was hope to spot Desiree Tilly or find a way to request a meeting with her without looking too suspicious. Once that was done, they could activate their trackers, and Prey would come to shut things down and take everyone involved into custody.
They were so close, and it filled her with a rush of pride to know she was going to be a part of taking down this dangerous ring.
Fresh air washed over them as someone opened the door beside Josiah, and he slid out, keeping hold of her hand as he did so.
When they were both standing, someone undid the blindfold tied around her head, and she hated the way the man let his fingers linger on her skin.
She’d been sitting in the middle of the row, and she was glad that no one had sat on her other side, because she wasn't sure she could have kept her cool with one of these men looking for opportunities to touch her, which she was sure they would have done.
Bright light flooded her eyes as the blindfold fell away, and she had to scrunch them shut against it.
Too long stuck in the dark made her eyes uncooperative, and she was glad she still had Josiah to cling to.
He had quickly become her rock, and she wasn't sure how she was going to go back to the way things had been before once this was over.
That was a worry for another day, though.
Blinking her eyes open tentatively, Chelsea took in her surroundings. Despite knowing what happened here, she couldn’t help a small gasp of approval falling out at the sight of the stunning mansion before them and the perfectly manicured grounds.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dr. Gant asked, and she nodded in agreement.
“Is this the clinic? I was under the impression that’s where we were headed. I know you said we were going to a house where we’d stay until I was well again, but I didn't realize you meant a house like this,” she said.
“This is separate from the clinic. The clinic is where we mostly focus on testing, treatments, appointments, that sort of thing. But since Dr. Wood has already found you a match, we thought we may as well bring you right out here. Think of this place as a cross between a hospital and a rehabilitation facility. We have operating rooms and state-of-the-art rehab equipment. But we also have beautiful rooms you’ll stay in before your transplant, and then once you're past the first several days or possibly weeks after surgery, depending on how you feel. There are tennis courts, swimming pools, libraries, games rooms, and spa facilities. We have vegetable gardens and orchards, if you're interested in cooking your own food we have kitchen facilities, otherwise we can provide all meals. Basically, this is a luxury resort you’ll recover in after your surgery.”
So while the people with enough money to buy themselves a black-market organ were enjoying a luxury spa resort, those abducted and cut open were left tied to beds in rooms on ships or hidden, rundown clinics in countries scattered across the globe.
The injustice of it all had her fuming, but she tamped down her rage and instead shifted her gaze from the impressive mansion and grounds, to the man standing beside her. “How long until I have my surgery?”
“We’re hoping within the next couple of days,” Dr. Gant replied.
That meant they only had days to confirm a sighting of Desiree Tilly or get access to her, because there was no way to fake a dying kidney once a surgeon cut her open.
It didn't give them long, but she believed they could do this. At worst, they’d have to call in Prey without a Desiree Tilly sighting and hope that one of the doctors here would cough up her contact information for a plea deal.
At least this place seemed like a headquarters of sorts.
The old cruise ships were clearly being used to try to circumvent being caught by mostly keeping to international waters.
The smaller clinics that had been raided a couple of months ago were also not the kind of place you could imagine the head of the ring hiding out.
But this place …
If she were Desiree Tilly, she’d make this her home.
“We’d like to go to our room now so my wife can rest. As I'm sure you can imagine, pulling her out of bed in the middle of the night has taken a toll on her health, and she needs to rest,” Josiah said firmly.
“Of course, of course.” Dr. Gant hurried them toward the front steps of the mansion.
“I’ll have you taken to your rooms. You’ll find the closet fully stocked, fresh sheets on the bed, you’ll have your own bathroom, which should have everything you need, but if you find you're missing anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.
I’m sorry that we needed to handle things this way, but I'm sure you understand, after all, we aren't the only ones taking risks here. Soon it will all be worth it, you’ll have your new kidney, and you’ll be able to return to your life healthier than you’ve been in a long time. ”
A young woman met them at the front door, and from the way she kept her gaze on the floor, Chelsea immediately got the feeling that the transplant donors weren't the only ones not here by choice.
This was one giant mess, all started by one woman desperate enough to break the law to ensure her daughter’s survival. Now there were so many lives impacted, and even though she believed Prey would destroy the trafficking ring, nothing could ever be made right for all those affected.
The young maid didn't speak as she led them upstairs and down hallways before stopping outside a room. And neither she nor Josiah spoke as they nodded their thanks and stepped inside their home for the next few days. The room was as gorgeous as the rest of the mansion. A four-poster bed sat under the window, through an open door on the adjacent wall, she could see a bathroom, there was a small seating area with a loveseat, two armchairs, and a table. All the furnishings looked expensive, and Chelsea hated that Desiree was able to afford them at the cost of other people’s lives.
When Josiah opened his arms, she didn't hesitate to walk straight into them, snuggling closer when they closed around her.
“We have to be on now, every second, there could be cameras everywhere,” Josiah whispered, his lips against her ear.
“I know.” If they slipped up now, they’d be killed, possibly before they could activate the trackers, as activating the trackers was the signal to Prey that their target had been sighted and for them to move in.
“You can do this.”
“Together we can do this,” she corrected.