Gorgeous.

Paul.

What the fuck was I doing?

I was a trained FBI agent. I had a man who loved me, who made love to me. I wasn’t going down like this. Not after how far I’d come. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. I was not my mother. I was better than that.

I stilled.

“Ah, someone is learning fast. Don’t fucking move or I will treat you like the cunt you are. Understood?” Not being able to speak out of fear that I would lose my resolve, I simply nodded.

He kissed me and I tried with everything in me not to struggle. Then as I’d hoped, he slid off of me and stood at the edge of the bed. Cracking my eyes open, I watched as he started to undo his belt buckle. I quickly surveyed the room, looking to see what I had at my disposal. A bedside lamp sat on the nightstand only a few feet away.

Taking a few deep breaths, I forcefully lifted my right leg, hitting him between the legs and watched as he crumpled to the ground. I knew I only had seconds, so I sprung up from the bed, grabbed the bedside lamp and slammed it against his temple. Holding the split top of my dress closed, I ran.

Was he bleeding? Had I killed him?

I grabbed my clutch, not wanting to leave anything behind for him to find me. Not wanting to take a chance on the elevators, I looked for the exit signs and headed for the stairs. Shit! I was twenty-three floors up and wearing stilettos. Flashbacks of my seventeenth birthday flashed in my head again. Once again I was fleeing down a flight of stairs from a hotel room, running for my life.

Knowing I had only seconds to spare if I didn’t kill him, I ripped off my shoes and started going down taking two, sometimes three stairs at a time. Once I got to the bottom, my heart felt as though it was going to explode, but I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or the stairs. I opened the doors and into the smoky, crowded casino, and ran straight into the bathroom. I went to the very last stall, locked the door, leaned my back against it and fell to the ground.

Then it hit me. Wracking sobs came up my throat and I couldn’t breathe. Memories from seventeen years ago filled my head. Life repeating itself. Feeling the bile rise at the thought, I struggled to my feet and emptied my stomach contents.

I wanted Paul.

I needed Paul.

I needed him to hold me. I needed to feel the protection that has always been the constant in his arms.

After a few minutes, I put my shoes on and exited the stall. Women looked at me, but no one said a word. What was wrong with society these days? Getting a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked like a whore who had just got slapped around by her pimp … I kinda was. Maybe the women thought I was only fighting with my boyfriend and it wasn’t their place to help me. If they only knew what I’d just endured.

I washed my mouth out, took a deep breath and left to grab a taxi to head home to Paul. I didn’t have the energy to drive myself home, and I didn’t know if the john would follow me. Paul was going to be pissed when he saw me, but I needed him. I had no one else, and if I didn’t tell him, I didn’t know when I would sleep again.

Chapter Eighteen

Paul

I was in the middle of browsing for houses to buy when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone this late at night. It was almost midnight for Christ sakes. I wanted to get a list of houses to look at with Andi because I was quitting S&R and would no longer be welcomed in the house I was living in. Andi would since she would still be working for the company, but that needed to change as well.

I peeked out of the dining room window and saw a taxi waiting in the street. Getting to my feet, I walked to the door and opened it as a body fell onto me.

“Andi? What the fuck?” My heart stopped the moment I realized it was her. Her beautiful brown hair was tangled, her yellow dress was ripped, and her skin was starting to bruise where there wasn’t already blood from cuts. “What the fuck happened?” I asked, hugging her against my body.

“You need to pay me!” the cab driver shouted from the street.

“I’m … fine. Just pay him,” she whispered and stumbled past me.

“The hell you are! You need to tell me what the fuck happened. Your date did this? Where’s your car?”

“Just pay him.” She fell to the floor.

“Baby …”

“Go!” She began to cry.

How was I supposed to leave her crying, bleeding and hurting in the entryway while I paid for a fucking cab?

“And—”

The Cabby honked and Andi whispered against the wood floor, “Please, just do it.”

I ran to our room, grabbed my wallet off of the dresser and bolted out of the front door, jumping over Andi in the process. After glancing at the meter, I pulled the bills from my wallet and tossed them at the driver before I ran back to her. She hadn’t moved in the few seconds I was gone. I scooped her up, kicked the door shut, then sat on the couch with her in my arms and rocked her, waiting for her to tell me what the fuck had happened before I lost my fucking mind.

“Baby, you need to tell me what happened before I lose my shit.”

“It was like walking into my seventeenth birthday again.”

Her body shook as tears soaked my chest. I held her tight against me, not knowing what else to do. I wanted to beat the ever living shit out of whoever did this to her. Who would book a date with someone to do this? A motherfucking asshole, that’s who.

And I was going to find him.

“He rap—” I couldn’t finish my thought as I pictured Andi being held down, a man over her and …

She shook her head. “No, I got away.”

I squeezed her tighter, my body relaxing a little as I sank into the couch, squeezing her harder against me. “Please tell me what happened so I can help you.”

“You …” She sniffed. “You can’t help me.”

“We can call Mark and he can call the police, have the guy arrested.”

She sprang from my lap. “Shit, I have to call Eric.”

I stood, reaching for her to bring her back to me. “Eric? Who’s Eric?”

Confusion flashed in her eyes as she stared back at me, not moving to my outreached hand. “No … No one. Mark can’t help.”

“What the fuck, Andi? What’s going on?”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Blood transferred to her hand and she stared at it as if she didn’t realize she was bleeding. “My date wasn’t with a client from S&R. There’s just so much you don’t know.”

“I’m not understanding this, Andi. You need to talk to me. Why did you have a date with someone not with S&R?” My hand was still in the air. I was hoping and praying she would take it, but she didn’t. Instead, she sank to the floor and started to cry again. I followed her and crouched down so I was on the same level.

“Because my mother sold me when I seventeen.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, baby.”

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. I pulled her to me. I didn’t care if she wanted me to. This was the woman I loved and if she didn’t want to be in my arms, then she needed to speak up.

She didn’t. She let me hold her, her body shaking as she cried. “I want to save them all.”

“Save who?”

“The girls.”

She wasn’t making any sense. One minute we were talking about her almost getting raped. The next we were talking about her losing her virginity. And now we were talking about her saving women? How did they all link?

“What girls?”

“The ones like Nelly,” she sobbed.

Who the fuck was Nelly?

“Baby, please. You were attacked. We need to call the cops.”

She pulled back. “No!” She scrambled to her feet again. “No cops. I’m done. I won’t have any more dates outside of S&R. I promise.” She grabbed my head on each side, peering into my eyes as if she needed to get the point across. “I promise. I won’t have any more dates outside of S&R. No cops … please, Paul,” she repeated.