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The scream of the naked woman being tortured filled the interior of Dylan Parker's rental car as he sat outside the Four Seasons hotel. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to fill the boring hours spent doing surveillance in his car by watching the very websites being broadcast from inside the seedy warehouse owned by their mark.
He was intimately aware of the heinous actions being perpetrated against the unfortunate women working inside the windowless building they'd been watching round the clock for the last few weeks. The fact that most of the employees voluntarily entered and exited the warehouse, as if they were going to work on a production line versus participating in sex for hire, didn't make what happened inside seem any less depraved to Dylan.
On the screen of his iPad, an overweight man in his forties was applying brutal nipple clamps to the pebbled tits of a twenty-something blonde who looked like she could have been the prom queen or perhaps the head cheerleader of her high school just a few years before. She'd fallen from her glory days, taking a wrong turn as she'd chased fame and fortune. Dylan wondered what was going through the woman's mind as she lay tied across a piece of heavy wooden furniture with one purpose; holding victims immobile so they could be punished, humiliated, and eventually fucked by dominant men acting at the direction of paying customers.
This site was just one of the many sites under Jake Davenport's lucrative 'Strictly Disciplined' umbrella of sexually explicit websites featuring live, hardcore discipline sessions in return for hefty subscription fees.
The thought that hundreds, possibly thousands, of assholes were sitting at home in their dark dens, their dicks in their hands, getting off on the tears and sobs of the not-so-innocent woman on the screen turned Dylan's stomach.
The fact that his own cock strained for release from his too-tight jeans as he played voyeur pissed him off.
He'd tried to talk to his brother, Derek, about it earlier, but in the end hadn't found the words. Dylan just couldn't reconcile how close the activities on the tablet's screen were to those his brother and sister-in-law participated in at The Punishment Pit back in Chicago.
A loud, late-model Corvette pulled into the parking lot and dragged his attention away from the flogging on the screen. Dylan went on high alert, recognizing the devil's car boldly parking beside the employee entrance of the Four Seasons hotel.
"Shit," he whispered to the empty car. The arrival of Jake Davenport had screwed up his plan to approach their prime witness as she left her part-time job. Dylan wasn't sure how he knew, but Hannah Martine was the key to their investigation. She was different from every other woman they'd seen interacting with their mark.
Dylan had only worked for Lukus Mitchell's security firm for a few weeks, but he was in complete agreement with his boss that Jake Davenport needed to be in jail, and the sooner the better. Hannah was going to give them the break they were looking for. He was sure of it.
He was about to exit his car to go in and escort Hannah out to safety, when the employee entrance opened and the woman in question appeared at the door. She seemed on high alert, checking her surroundings and freezing at the top of the stairs when she saw Jake Davenport exiting his car, striding towards her with great purpose.
"Go back inside, Hannah!"
She, of course, couldn't hear Dylan shouting from his surveillance distance. She delayed long enough that Jake caught up to her just as she was grabbing the door handle to rush inside to safety. Davenport had her trapped against the steel door.
Dylan rolled down the windows, hoping to pick up on some of their conversation, but they were too far away. His hand hesitated on the door latch, ready to jump out to intervene if Davenport tried to force Hannah into his sports car.
He'd never hear the end of it if he got his ass kicked again. Dylan had already been hospitalized once after Davenport had sicced his goons on him. He wouldn't have the same problem going up against Davenport alone, although he knew the man was armed, making Dylan all the more worried about Hannah being forced into the car against her will.
His cell phone rang. Dylan wanted to let it roll to voicemail, but decided he might need backup. He launched into an animated ramble. "Don't say it. I don't have time for your lecture. I'm at the Four Seasons. Davenport's here and he's harassing Hannah. Fuck... he's pulling her towards his car. I'm going in."
"God damn it! You don't listen worth a shit. You're not gonna back down until you're six feet under, are you?" Zachary Zimmerman lectured the junior investigator.
Dylan was already outside his car, jogging across the street, when a group of four men left through the employee exit. Hannah saw them too, and called out for help. Dylan screeched to a halt, waiting to see how things played out.
"Good girl. She just drew the attention of a group of guys leaving. They're going to investigate."
"Back off, will ya? Don't blow your cover again," Z ordered.
"I'm holding back, but if Davenport tries to get her in his car, I'm going in. There's a lot of pushing going on. I can't hear, but the employees just surrounded Hannah. Looks like Davenport is giving her up to them."
"You do realize he's packing a Glock, right?" Z asked.
"You do realize he is raping and hurting innocent women, right?" Dylan countered.
"You need to get your head out of your ass. A lot of the shit going on in that warehouse may be raw and edgy, but other than that little girl you seem to have a hard-on for, it's all consensual. You may not like the freaky shit going on in there, but it isn't illegal, Parker. You need to back it down."
This lecture was getting old.
Dylan stepped into the shadows to avoid being seen by Hannah or Jake, but he didn't take his eyes off the scene playing out in the parking lot. He watched the four employees walk Hannah to her car, staying with her until she drove away. Then he kept his eyes on Davenport, who stalked back to his Corvette, slamming his door hard, before gunning the engine and speeding off in the opposite direction of Hannah.
Dylan jogged back to his car, determined to follow Hannah home, hoping to get a few minutes alone with her. He didn't forget his partner hanging on the phone. "I've backed down long enough, Z. Every day that goes by, more women are getting hurt."
Dylan had seen enough suffering in his seven years in the Marines to last a lifetime. He hadn't expected his first civilian job to expose him to the same kind of suffering he'd seen first-hand overseas. He hadn't been able to control things over there, but he sure as hell could control what the hell happened in Palo Alto, California. Jake Davenport was going down.
Z sighed as Dylan gunned the car, running a red light in order to catch up with Hannah's run-down sedan. "Your heart is in the right place, kid, but we can't save the world. Keep your eye on the job, will ya?" Z didn't wait for an answer, ending the call abruptly.
Just as well. He wasn't going to stop Dylan from doing what he thought was right. Within a few minutes, he turned into the small parking lot shared by four small duplex apartment homes. Dylan arrived just in time to watch Hannah rush through her front door. He could tell she was spooked by her run-in with Davenport. Not wanting to scare her more, he decided to head over to the warehouse to take his shift. With any luck, tonight would be the night new evidence would turn up—evidence that they could take to the police.
