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Oh no, lies are never a good sign. . .
“At nine-thirty at night?” he said.
“An emergency,” Helena called, her voice slightly muffled as if she’d partially covered the receiver.
“Who is it?” he asked, his tone low and threaded with steel. “Who are you talking to?”
Helena hesitated. Caroline heard the unsteady hiss of breath and she knew the woman on the other end of the line had waited too long.
“Hang up.” The man’s words were barely audible through the phone.
“Yes,” Helena said. And then, “I’m sorry, I—”
“Hang up,” he barked.
Caroline waited for the line to go dead, her chest rising and falling with one trembling breath after another. Tension rippled through her. But instead she heard a shuffling. A tap as if the phone had been dropped, or maybe placed somewhere?
She looked over at Josh. His brow was furrowed and his expression focused. He glanced over at her and mouthed the words we listen.
But Caroline wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what came next. What if—
“Get on the bed,” the deep male voice said.
Caroline covered the receiver. If they weren’t silent, they would give her away. And if Helena had been trying to prove a point, if she wanted to show them once and for all that her husband wasn’t hurting her, then they might be here for a while. But if she was reaching out and asking for help . . .
A chill ran down her spine. She realized that being able to empathize with Helena didn’t necessarily make her the best person for this mission. But they were here now and they would find a way to deliver whatever she needed.
“I’ll be right there,” Helena called, her tone bright and cheerful.
Caroline drew her lower lip between her teeth. If they’d made a mistake coming down here—
“Now!” The male voice—presumably Helena’s husband—boomed through the hotel receiver.
And Caroline jumped, nearly dropping the phone. Josh wrapped his arm around her and held her to his side. The phone remained between them, cradled in her grasp. She heard footsteps, followed by a rustling. Sheets? Discarded clothes?
And then a soft moan.
“No, Ash,” Helena murmured. “Not right now. I’m not ready.”
“You don’t say no,” he growled. Ashford—her husband—Caroline thought as she mentally assigned the name to the baritone.
“Please,” Helena said. “Just let me—”
“You don’t say no, baby. Not to me,” her husband said. “Now lie down on the bed.”
He’s going to rape her. Right now. While we listen. . .
It didn’t matter that he was her husband. The fact that Helena had trusted him once upon a time only made it worse. She’d made promises to him.
But that doesn’t strip away her right to say no.
“I’m calling the police,” Josh murmured, his voice a low growl. He stood and withdrew his cell from the front pocket of his jeans. He moved toward the bathroom and stepped inside to place the call. But he kept the door open and his gaze fixed on her.
Josh returned, his cell in hand, and leaned down to her ear. “The police are on their way. We should meet them. They will need our statements.”
She nodded. But she knew the cops would require more than that. She’s seen the size of Ashford’s house. They would need proof if Helena had any hope of breaking free from a man like that. And Caroline guessed Helena had known that from the beginning. She couldn’t run from her husband. Helena had to fight. And for that, she needed hard evidence.
She grabbed Josh’s phone and pressed buttons until she found the one she needed.
