Page 69 of Beast

“Don’t know. I’ve been traded around.” Every word she spoke I had to earn. The edge in her voice gutted me. “Different islands. Curaçao, Columbia, Venezuela. I speak Spanish so I don’t stand out. I’m so fucked up, it’s all a blur.”

So that’s how she’d survived so long. Her exotic looks and language skills must’ve helped her blend in with the other girls. “Are there any other American girls here?”

“No,” she whispered. “There was a girl, Nicole.”

Nicole Race? She’d disappeared on a family vacation a few years ago—I saw her name when I was researching Annie. She was last seen talking to a bartender at a popular tourist club in Curaçao. Was finding these girls not a priority? Didn’t the FBI and CIA have Intel out here? “Where is she?”

“Dead.” Her head shook a bit. “She OD’d. I’d convinced her we were going to be saved, but I’d been wrong. She gave up hope.”

My breath shortened, the sense of urgency mounted. I needed to get Annie out of here before she succumbed to her addiction, or a fate even worse than her current life.

Annie brushed against my arm. I didn’t want to touch her any more than necessary to comfort her. Enough men over the years had fondled her. “Who kidnapped you?”

“Renzo, the ballroom dancer at the resort. It was my fault. I left our room to go to the beach alone to take pictures of the sunrise and he grabbed me in the elevator.”

Motherfucker. My blood burned. But I needed to focus on the future, not the past. “Annie, this isn’t your fault. None of this is. I hope you know that. Are you ever allowed outside the brothel?”

“No.” The little bit of color she had in her cheeks seemed to fade away.

“Why’d you tell me your name?”

She stopped shaking and touched my face, tracing my beard with her fingers. A spike of warmth radiated through me. “Because you asked me my real name. No one has ever asked me. I knew you were an American. I was praying you were a Navy SEAL.” She paused and her fingers made their way down to my neck, my arms. “Your full beard, your strong arms, your muscles, your long hair—I knew you weren’t some typical sailor. Something about your eyes . . . sounds crazy, but I trusted you. Despite the fact you’d just paid a hooker to give you a blowjob, I could tell you were a good man. I’ve seen so many men and their eyes were dark, cold. Or worse, dead. But yours . . . I can’t explain it. They’re kind, but hurt. For five years, I’ve held on to this fantasy that I’d be rescued. I prayed for you, I’ve dreamt of you. I knew you were sent for me. You are my only hope.”

Whoa. Was she for real? I’m supposed to believe she willed me to save her, like some divine prophecy? I swallowed hard. She was probably flattering me to ensure I would help her, make me feel like I wasn’t such a loser for hiring a hooker. I didn’t need compliments; I’d save her no matter what.

This was getting intense. But I liked intense.

The courage it must’ve taken for this shell of a woman to open her mouth, say her name when she had no hope, showed me what a survivor she was. She was strong, like me.

“You told the right man. And I’m glad you showed me your tattoo. Your parents have it plastered all over their website.”

Her lip curled. “I wasn’t sure it was my ankle which had your attention at that moment. I figured if I did a good job,” she went on, “then maybe you would believe me.”

That made me feel like a grade-A asshole. My pants became tighter and I decided to change the subject.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

Her head bobbed forward, her eyes shifted. Maybe she just got high. I hadn’t spent any time around drug addicts, so I didn’t know what to expect. “What does everyone think happened to me?”

I didn’t want to sugar coat it—she deserved the truth. “You committed suicide, Chris murdered you, or you ran away and started a new life. Chris has made several statements where he insists you were kidnapped, but most people believe he was trying to shift the blame off of himself.”

Her head cocked up, and her left hand tugged at her earlobe. I could see the quiet intensity that she’d had with me snap. “Killed myself? Why the fuck would I kill myself? I had the best life—I was in college, had a great boyfriend, and was the star of my college’s soccer team. I was drunk, yeah, but we were on land. Didn’t anyone else see me that morning? Who the fuck thought Chris could’ve killed me? That’s fucking ridiculous—he’s a Buddhist vegan surfer, I mean the dude doesn’t even eat dairy. Haven’t there been sightings of me? I’ve been fucked by hundreds of men, even diplomats, police, FBI, secret service, military. Not one of those assholes reported me? Renzo took pictures of me and put them on a fucking escort website. He even covered my tattoo with a sheet. No one saw those? My dad is loaded—hasn’t he sent people to find me? Or at least my body? He’s just accepted that I’m dead?”

I rubbed her back. I wished I could take away all her pain. “I only know what I read today on the internet, but you’re right, it makes no sense. Your parents hired some guy to find you, but he was a con man. There were some sightings but they couldn’t be confirmed. I’m so sorry. I’m going to take care of you. You aren’t alone anymore.”

But she was alone. I knew damn well I was leaving to head back to the States tonight, without her. I’d racked my brain on every way I could get her out of here and safely to the embassy or to my ship. I was unarmed, unable to bring my weapons off the ship. There wasn’t even an embassy in Aruba. A sloppy rescue attempt would get us killed. Even if I had told Vic and Kyle, there was nothing we could do to extract her tonight. Nothing.

Her breathing slowed down and she looked up at me, her eyes hopeful. Fuck, she felt her freedom was mere hours away. I couldn’t tell her, not yet.

“Why’d you choose me? The other girls are younger, sexier. Why me?”

“No they aren’t, not to me. You’re beautiful, Annie. You were the only one I wanted.” Defending my attraction to her, now knowing that she was a sex slave churned my stomach. “Look, I had no idea you were trafficked. Prostitution is legal here. I guess I wanted to believe this job was your choice. I’m not going to lie and say I’ve never been to a brothel. My life and job are stressful. I’ve been deployed for six months. I don’t have a girl back home waiting for me. I’m not a cheater. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”

She turned to comfort me, placing her hand on my back. “It’s okay. I understand. You were just lonely.”

A longing crept up inside me. I’d never admit it, but I was lonely. My men were more than coworkers, they were family. We were the most elite fighting force in the world, and supposed to be tough. But every now and then, I missed the closeness of being in a relationship with a woman. Someone who worried about me while I was away, dreamt of me at night. Someone who was actually in love with me, not just the idea of being fucked by a SEAL. I couldn’t offer a lavish lifestyle on my salary or daily attention because I was never around. Even so, I wanted to be the reason someone smiled in the morning.

Back to work. “How many men secure this place?”