Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
“We should do it now,” Josiah insisted, not sure why they were still having this argument several hours later.
“After we get a visual,” Chelsea insisted just as strongly from where she was sitting by the window. It was the same spot she’d been in since she spoke with the little girl they both believed was Bridget Tilly in the maze this morning.
After meeting the child, Chelsea quickly made her way back to the entrance, and after he’d walked the entire distance of the maze, or at least as far into it as he could get, he headed back to the entrance and met up with her.
She’d been so excited to tell him about talking with the girl, and how certain she was both by the fact that the child matched their physical description of Bridget Tilly, and by what the girl said about her mother being the boss, and the loss of her father and siblings.
There was no way that little girl wasn't Bridget Tilly, and he doubted that Desiree would be far away, but Chelsea wanted to wait until they spotted the woman. So they’d come back inside, ordered lunch to be delivered to their room, and then gone up there to pretend to do her dialysis.
Chelsea had sat by the window, occasionally spotting glimpses of the child playing in the gardens, getting more annoyed when no adult went to check on the little girl, even as the hours ticked by.
They’d spent most of the time arguing about whether or not they should set off their trackers and bring Prey in.
If there was a way he could pass on intel to them, he’d have agreed with waiting, at least until their visit with Chelsea’s “donor” because spending more time in the medical suites would have told him how many victims were there, and how many doctors, and if any appeared to not be there by choice.
But they had no way to communicate, didn't even have their cell phones since the people who took them there had left them behind at the townhouse.
Waiting increased the risk for no good reason.
While he was pretty sure that they were within a couple of hours of the townhouse, even though they’d driven for longer than that, so they technically had enough time for Prey to get there and plan their entrance, he couldn’t help but be antsy with Chelsea in the mix.
They had yet to discuss their plan for when the raid happened, although he had discussed a signal with Alpha Team, so at least he’d know when it was time to get her to hide somewhere.
But they needed to come up with more details than that.
Where would she hide? What signal would he give her that it was safe to come out?
Once the raid started Desiree, Dr. Gant, and the others would all know he and Chelsea were responsible. There was no way they wouldn't. Which meant she would have a huge target on her back.
The thought made his chest tighten painfully, making it difficult to draw a full breath.
“Look!” Chelsea suddenly squealed from the window, darting to her feet and pointing. “Josiah, look. I see her. Desiree Tilly, by the maze, holding Bridget’s hand.”
Joining her by the window, he followed her line of sight and spotted the same thing she had seen.
A small girl of around six, skipping along, holding a woman’s hand.
The woman had the same chestnut brown locks, pulled back into a bun, and while it was impossible to accurately identify her from this distance, he was comfortable agreeing that the woman was the head of the trafficking ring.
About to activate his tracker right here and now, without any more discussion on the matter, since Chelsea’s only objection had been trying to get a visual on Desiree Tilly, before he could press his finger to where the small tracker had been placed under his skin, there was a knock at the door.
“Mr. Fleet, Mrs. Fleet, I've been told to come and collect you for your meeting,” a somewhat timid voice called out.
“After we get back,” Chelsea whispered. “This shouldn’t take too long, and then we can set them off. Prey isn’t going to move in until dark anyway, and we’re not at risk until tomorrow morning.”
Instinct had him wanting to argue.
Protective instincts.
The kind that went crazy at the thought of keeping Chelsea in danger any longer than he had to, but she was right. Prey would wait until the early hours of the morning when things would be the quietest before raiding the estate.
Glaring at her because that tightness in his chest kicked up another few notches, she merely smiled and stood on tiptoes to give his short hair an affectionate ruffle.
“Don’t borrow trouble, Josiah. We’re safe for now. We have until tomorrow morning at least. A couple more hours and this will all be over,” she murmured, a note of wistfulness seeping into her voice.
There was no need to ask to know why.
As much as she wanted this ring shut down, she was sad that it meant their fake relationship and marriage would be over.
Only it wasn't all that fake, not with the intensity of the emotions burning inside him.
“Mr. Fleet? Mrs. Fleet?” the voice from the other side of the door called out.
“It’s going to be okay,” Chelsea whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Sorry, we’re coming,” she called out louder as she tugged him along with her toward the door.
“Sorry,” she repeated once she unlocked and opened it.
“Didn't mean to keep you waiting, we were just … enjoying each other’s company.”
The young woman, who was the same one who had guided them to their room yesterday morning, blushed a deep red as her gaze darted between them and then dropped to the floor.
But before it had dropped, Josiah caught the disapproval in it, pretty much confirming his suspicions that the woman wasn't there by choice.
If she knew what was going on there, and thought they were being cavalier about the many innocents suffering beneath this roof, then she hadn't taken this job willingly.
“This way please,” the woman mumbled, and they both followed her through the halls and down to the stairs. “Dr. Gant said to meet him in the patient’s room. Turn right at the top of the stairs, head straight down, take a left, and it’s room 304.”
With a polite nod, the young woman disappeared, and hand in hand he and Chelsea ascended the stairs.
They followed the directions they had been given, and the mansion started to look less like a luxury spa hotel and more like a hospital.
Most of the doors were closed, but there were a couple of nurses and a doctor wandering about.
When they reached room 304, he knocked once and then opened the door.
It took every ounce of control he possessed not to immediately tear into the doctor.
Even then, it was probably more Chelsea’s hand tightening around his that kept him still.
In the room’s only bed lay a woman around Chelsea’s age.
She had long brown locks that fanned out in a tangled mess on the white pillow.
A white sheet covered the woman’s body, but he could see the leather straps protruding down the bottom, binding her ankles to the bed’s metal frame.
Likewise, her wrists were bound, both of which he and Chelsea had been expecting to see.
The ball gag in the woman’s mouth, they had not.
Both the woman’s gaze and Dr. Gant’s snapped to them as they entered the room, the woman’s shooting daggers as she eyed them defiantly. Good. She was still furious about what was being done to her, which meant she stood a good chance of recovering once she went back home.
“Mr. and Mrs. Fleet, meet your donor,” Dr. Gant said as he indicated the woman, who turned those angry eyes on him.
“Unfortunately, she has a bit of a problem keeping her teeth to herself. She’s bitten three nurses already, and managed to chew through our first attempt at restraining her.
So far, the ball gag seems to be doing its job. ”
Dr. Gant’s cavalier attitude came dangerously close to snapping his control.
That the woman also had a feeding tube threaded down through her nose, and he could only imagine how horrible that must feel with the restriction of the ball gag making it difficult enough for her to breathe, pushed him further.
Chelsea’s nails dug into his skin, giving away the horror she was feeling even as she stood still as a statue beside him, and that was it.
Killing the doctor would only make things worse, but he wasn't going to stand for this. “Take it out,” he snarled.
The doctor merely laughed. “Mr. Fleet, you knew what we do, that’s why you reached out to us. You prioritized saving the life of your wife over the lives of these people.” Waving a dismissive hand at the woman in the bed. “Too late to back out now.”
Oh, it was too late all right.
Too late for the doctor to do anything to change his fate. As soon as Prey got there, Josiah was going to rip the man apart with his bare hands.
May 17th
4:09 P.M.
By the time they stepped back into their room, Chelsea was shaking all over.
She wasn't sure if it was rage, or guilt, or grief, or maybe a combination of all three, but she’d barely made it through that meeting with Dr. Gant and the poor woman bound to the bed.
Of course, she’d known how the victims of the trafficking ring were kept.
She’d heard firsthand accounts from Ava and Teresa, heard it from Isabella about what things were like on the other side of the bed for medical personnel who weren't there by choice. As part of her work with Cyber Team, she’d also read through every statement given by the men and women who had been rescued.
If you’d asked her, she would have said she was prepared for what she was going to see while she was there, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of that. Knowing it, reading it, and hearing about it were very different than actually seeing it with her own two eyes.