Oleander, page 13
“When did your father pass?” Kally asked.
“It’s been ten years.” Robert glanced at Damon. “Our fathers were friends. They died a week apart from each other.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Kally glanced back and forth between the men. They were exchanging looks with Jagger. There was something they weren’t saying.
Ella grabbed Robert’s arm. “Everyone has to be starving. Let’s eat. You can bring Kalinda up to speed on your connection to this shitshow afterward.”
Robert nodded. “She’s right.”
Kally was beyond curious now. She had no idea what Ella was talking about. She’d just met Robert and Ella an hour ago when they’d arrived at this remote mountain home outside of Denver. Jagger had explained that Robert was ten years older than Damon and their fathers had been friends. She hadn’t realized his parents had also passed.
Kally took a deep breath. It seemed like every hour she learned more about her case. It was complicated. Was there a link to Robert?
Jagger rose and filled Kally’s plate. He was always serving her. In fact, Robert and Damon served Ella and Gemma, too. They weren’t like any men she’d ever met.
The spaghetti ended up distracting her like all meals had over the last day. After eating bland boring food for a year, everything was a delicacy—even the salad, which was loaded with raw vegetables and served with steaming garlic bread that made her mouth water before she picked it up.
After they finished eating, they all moved to the den and sat around a huge fireplace filled with the biggest fire she’d ever seen inside a home.
Jagger led her to a spot closest to the flames and wrapped a blanket around her. He was so damn thoughtful, especially remembering that she was cold and shivering most of the time.
Jagger sat next to her, lifting her feet up to settle them on his lap.
Damon and Gemma sat across from them on the opposite side of the giant sectional. Robert and Ella sat in the middle section. Like the fireplace, Kally hadn’t seen a sofa this large.
“Are you tired?” Jagger asked her. “You could go to bed if you’d rather shut down.”
She shook her head. “No. You obviously have a story to tell that involves me. Please tell it.”
Jagger nodded. He kept a hand on her shins over the blanket, rubbing her as if he might be able to warm her up. “Robert owns a chain of clubs called Roses and Thorns. Ten years ago, when Damon’s and Robert’s fathers died, the two of them reconnected. Damon joined Robert’s club. So did I.”
“What kind of club?” Kally asked.
“A fetish club. A kink-friendly BDSM club. Not like the place where you were working, but an aboveboard club with rules and vetted membership. Everything in Roses and Thorns is safe, sane, and consensual—the basic tenants of the fetish community.”
She nodded. She’d heard of clubs like that, but she’d never been to one.
“Anyway, like I said, the club is called Roses and Thorns,” Jagger added. “And I assume the tattoo on your thigh matches the logo of Robert’s club. Precisely.”
Kally gasped. She glanced at Robert. “Why?”
“We don’t know,” Robert responded. “That’s the million-dollar question.” He winced as soon as those words left his mouth, probably because Kally and Gemma had been sold for that price.
Kally brushed that off. She rubbed her inner thigh, shuddering.
Damon spoke next. “We suspect the tattoos are a message or a warning or a setup. Someone has a grievance with Robert’s father, or perhaps both of ours.”
“But your fathers are…gone,” she stated, trying not to sound harsh.
Damon shrugged. “Our fathers weren’t upstanding citizens. They were involved in the mob. Though we’ve never found evidence they were trafficking humans, they were dealing in drugs and arms. My suspicion is that they refused to be a part of human trafficking and were murdered for their non-compliance.”
Kally gasped. “They were murdered?”
“Not officially,” Jagger added. “Heart attack and stroke. But the coincidence is uncanny. So, yes, most likely they were killed.”
“That’s awful.” She pulled her legs off Jagger’s lap and folded them up against her chest. She was most comfortable when she was tucked up in a ball. Warmer. Less agitated. After spending a year of her life forced to expose herself all the time and to keep her hands away from her intimate parts, she just wanted to crawl into a tight hole and hibernate.
Kally set her chin on her knees, trying to process this information.
Jagger stayed next to her, his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers playing with a lock of her hair. Her toes were against his thigh even though she’d pulled her feet back. She liked the contact.
“So, what happens now?” she asked.
Jagger reached over to pat her leg. “Now, Damon, Robert, and I will set up a bit of a command center here in this safehouse and start digging so we can figure out who the kingpin is and why he’s using the Roses and Thorns logo that belongs to Robert.”
“Do you think you can find the other girls?” she asked.
“We won’t stop until we do.”
Kally glanced up at Jagger and searched his face. He was serious. This was his life’s work now. Damon’s too. Damon had been looking for Gemma for three years. It was clear that just because he’d found her didn’t mean he was done. These men were dedicated to making sure no more women were abducted and sold into sex slavery—at least not by the man using the Roses and Thorns logo.
“And you’re sure Master J doesn’t know more than he’s told you?” she asked.
Jagger shook his head. “We’re not sure of anything. It’s possible he knows more, but so far, we haven’t found any evidence to suggest he’s lying. Russo didn’t own that mansion you were kept in. Whoever does own it is really good at covering their tracks.”
Damon sighed. “It would be helpful if we could find the identity of at least some of the men who worked for Russo. The ‘trainers’ as they called themselves. But so far, we’ve had no luck.”
Kally glanced at Gemma. “You gave them descriptions.”
“As best I could, yes. But maybe it would help if you did, too. See if what we think matches up.”
“Good idea,” Jagger agreed. “I’ll get a sketch artist to do a zoom visit on a secure line.”
“I never saw any of their faces,” Kally confessed. “They always wore ski masks, but I can describe their builds, some tattoos, skin tones, and maybe voices.”
“That would be helpful, honey,” Jagger said softly. He patted her leg again. “You’re exhausted. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”
She nodded, but she hoped he didn’t mean that he intended to tuck her in somewhere and leave her.
He rose, helped remove the blanket from around her, then extended a hand while she unfolded and came to her feet.
She turned toward Robert and Ella. “Thank you so much for giving me a place to stay.”
“You’re so welcome,” Ella said with a smile. “We wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ll do everything we can to help.”
Jagger shook Robert’s hand and then Damon’s before leading her down the hall to the room where he’d put his suitcase when they’d first arrived. It was spacious and had its own attached bathroom. Not as amazing as the master bath in his house, but still ranking second best as far as luxurious bathrooms were concerned that she’d had access to in her lifetime.
Jagger shut and locked the bedroom door. Without a word, he dragged an armchair up against it. Obviously, it wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it would make a lot of noise if someone attempted to open the door.
Next, he checked all the windows, ensured they were locked, and closed all the blinds.
Kally relaxed as she realized he had no intention of sending her to another room. She eyed the suitcase, wondering if she should change into something else to sleep in. Last night, she’d slept in her clothes. Maybe she could do that again tonight. It was warmer, and she liked being fully covered.
Jagger stepped up to her and held out a folded garment. “Ella left this for you. Flannel pajamas.”
Kally took the PJs from him and held them against her. “That was nice of her. They feel soft and warm.”
He stroked her cheek. “Wear whatever is comfortable, but we can surely find something other than thick sweaters for you to sleep in.”
“Thank you. This will work.”
He stepped back and rubbed his neck.
She knew she made him uncomfortable with her ridiculous desire to always be less than a foot away from him. She couldn’t help it. “Can I change right here?”
He nodded. “I’ll just turn around, okay?”
“Sure.” Things between them were kind of awkward. He’d made it clear that he was interested in her. He’d also made it clear that he wouldn’t take advantage of her. She suspected he would not be pulling off her clothes and helping her orgasm again anytime soon.
She didn’t really give a shit if he saw her naked or even watched her pee, but she knew it was making him uncomfortable, so she promised herself she would suck it up and be braver.
When she was done changing, she tried to find the strength to keep up this brave routine. “I’m done. Do you mind if I use the bathroom but leave the door open?”
He turned around and cupped her face, tipping it back. His expression was serious. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Kally. I’m just trying hard not to violate you any more than you’ve already been violated. Touching you inappropriately, seeing you naked, watching you bathe or pee… Those things don’t make me uncomfortable, but they violate your privacy.”
She held his gaze. He was telling her the truth. “Okay.” She still wanted to be respectful of his feelings. He was already doing so much for her, and she knew she was half in love with him. She also knew that was irrational. She needed to take a step back before she got hurt.
They’d only known each other for twenty-four hours. Even though he’d shared his feelings, they’d met under very insane circumstances. She couldn’t expect him to feel deeply for her forever. It would fade as the days wore on.
Kally was going to be an emotional mess for weeks, months—maybe years. He didn’t need that kind of burden. Already, she was taking advantage of him.
If she were honest with herself, she would admit she probably didn’t know her own mind right now, either. Her adrenaline had been pumping high for most of the time she’d been conscious in the last day. She was stressed to the point of snapping.
As she stared at him, she found it hard to believe there would come a day when she would decide she didn’t really like him all that much. It seemed unfeasible. However, she needed to think rationally and find the strength to stop leaning on him so hard.
For now, she could do this. Use the fucking bathroom without panicking. It didn’t even have a window.
“I’ll wait just outside the bathroom, facing away from you. How about that?”
She nodded. “Thank you.” She missed his touch as soon as she turned to pad into the attached bath. It was lunacy how much she liked having him close. She was starved for human contact, and he offered it, so she took it.
It probably wasn’t healthy. He knew that. That’s why his brow was always furrowed in concern. She wasn’t in a reasonable state of mind to make sound choices. All she knew was that when he was close, she felt safe. When he was not, she didn’t.
She entered the bathroom, used the toilet, and washed her hands before calling out to him from the sink. “You can come in now.”
He shuffled toward her and grabbed his toothbrush alongside her. They brushed in silence, rinsing and spitting before he grabbed the towel, wiped her lips, and then his.
The gesture was so kind and intimate. He was so damn nice. Was she delusional about that part, or could she possibly keep him? Only time would tell.
“Can you give me a minute?” he asked.
She nodded and stepped out. He had to use the toilet, too, after all. Insisting on standing next to him while he peed was beyond the pale, so she slid out of the room and flattened herself against the wall next to the door.
She looked all around, trembling. She hated this irrational fear. The bathroom was at least small and windowless. This room was large. Even though the windows were locked and on the second story, that didn’t mean someone couldn’t use a ladder or even shoot through one with a bullet.
That thought made her slide down to the floor, where she sat on her butt against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. It was hard to imagine there would come a time when she would no longer feel this intense, constant fear. Months? Years? Would she still look over her shoulder every time she went anywhere?
What a joke. That would imply she might ever reach a point when she could even go anywhere. The drive from Jagger’s house to this safe house had taken an hour. She’d spent most of that time in a panic. The worst part had been when they’d changed vehicles to get into Damon’s car.
She understood the reasoning. They hadn’t wanted the driver to know where they’d been going, but she’d hated the exposure anyway. The only thing that had kept her from totally losing her mind had been the fact she doubted that anyone who might follow her would kill her. They needed her alive to fulfill the contract the buyer had with the seller.
Maybe she was wrong about that, too. Maybe they would kill her just to get revenge for her escape. Or for revenge against the people helping her. Fuck, now that she knew about the meaning of the tattoo on her thigh, she realized whoever had made that decision knew what they were doing.
“Kally?”
She jerked her head back to look up at Jagger as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Shit. Sorry.”
He crouched down in front of her. “It’s okay.” He stroked her forearm. “I understand. Let’s get in bed.”
“It’s not fair of me to make you sleep with me. Nothing I’m doing is fair to you. You have a life. A job. I’m interrupting it. You might get fired. I’m asking you to do irrational things for me.”
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. After depositing her in the middle, he turned off the lights and climbed in next to her. He’d left the bathroom light on, bless him.
He pulled the covers over them and dragged her into his embrace from behind. “You’re not interrupting my life. You’re not going to get me fired. Nothing you’re needing from me is irrational. And above all, I definitely didn’t have a life before yesterday.” He chuckled. “Now, I do.”
“You’re just being nice.”
“I’m a nice guy.” He kissed her neck. God, she loved when he did that. “I’m kind, decent, and caring. Most women don’t like that.”
She flinched. “Don’t be silly.”
He chuckled again. “It’s true. In vanilla society, I’m known to be too nice.”
“Vanilla?”
“Among regular people. Not at Roses and Thorns. The club.”
“You’re different when you’re at the club?” She was shivering a bit, and Jagger—the nice man that he was—tucked the covers around her tighter and threaded his fingers with hers against her chest.
“When I’m dominating women, yes. Consensually, mind you.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “People who belong to upstanding fetish clubs follow rules. Usually, Dominants and submissives make an arrangement ahead of time to spend some time together. It’s called a scene. They agree on the terms, so no one is surprised.”
“So, like spanking or stuff like that?”
“Yes. Maybe the sub likes restraints. Maybe she doesn’t. Everyone is different. In a club where people might not know each other well, they discuss this up front.”
“So, when you go there, you meet women and set up a time and then spank them?”
“Among other things, but yes, basically.”
She shuddered. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“I doubt you could either. Not after what you’ve been through, but you might be surprised at what you’d be interested in if you knew all the types of options. I can’t begin to sense that from you after twenty-four hours and the trauma you’ve been through.”
“How often do you go there?” she whispered.
He lifted his head and leaned over her, making eye contact. “Never again. Certainly not before everyone who’s involved in this trafficking ring is apprehended, and never without you.”
She swallowed. “But…”
He shook his head. “Nope. No buts. All the buts left the room when I met you. I would never play with another woman without you present, watching, and giving your blessing—under any circumstances. It’s doubtful I would ever have any interest in doing so, even with your blessing. It would have to be something specific, like if Damon didn’t know how to use a flogger, and he asked me to do it for Gemma because it was something she wanted.”
“Does Damon know how to use a flogger?”
Jagger chuckled. “Definitely.”
“Oh.” There was so much she didn’t know about this man, his life, personality, and preferences. A part of her felt confident it didn’t matter. Part of her was worried it made all the difference.
“Try to sleep, honey.” He nuzzled her neck.
“It’s weird that I need you touching me,” she murmured. “I’ve never slept with anyone before. You make me feel secure.”
“I’m glad.” He kissed her temple. “Right now, that’s all that matters.”
Chapter Fourteen
Two weeks later…
* * *
“How’s your leg?” Gemma asked as she handed Kally a glass of soda.
Gemma tipped her head back from where she sat on the couch and smiled. “Not too bad.” Kally patted the inside of her thigh where the stitches were located. “Mostly, it itches.”
“Yeah. I remember that part.” Gemma sat next to her.
“I’m just glad that damn tattoo and the stupid chip are no longer part of my body. It’s worth a bit of temporary pain.”
