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They were in the foyer, about to pass through a heavy door protected by several layers of security. "I thought you'd never ask." Jake grinned as he pushed open the door to reveal a large open office space with dozens of small cubicles that would be more appropriate in a fortune 500 company. The partition walls were low enough that she could see over a dozen women, and several men, working at the desks.
That was where the comparison to corporate America ended.
Each naked employee had on headphones and a microphone, and Hannah picked up snippets of X-rated phone sex in progress as she slowly walked past with her captor.
Unwelcome tears came to her eyes as memories of her time at Jake's house invaded her thoughts. She'd worked hard to force down the trauma of being raped just days before, but the sight of the naked men and women, each sitting on a stool looking suspiciously like the one she'd been forced to sit on at the desk in Jake's office, made it impossible to ignore. Over a dozen sets of tortured breasts were lashed to the desks in front of them, holding the impaled bodies in place, just as she had been.
"Welcome to Strictly Disciplined, Hannah. This is just one of my many lucrative businesses. You already passed through the sets we use for our live online sex websites. This is our call center. But I can't wait to show you our most exclusive wing of the company. Come along."
Through her blurred vision, she looked over her shoulder as she was pulled away to see one of the women begin to hump up and down on the fake cock shoved up her pussy, protruding from the stool. The fact that she was obviously enjoying something Hannah would forever remember as one of the worst experiences of her life was like a slap in the face.
How the fuck could these women choose to work here? I'm in so much trouble. I pray Dylan gets here with the police soon.
Chapter Ten
Dylan
"God damnit!" Dylan was furious that they'd put an innocent woman like Hannah in danger. The men were crammed into the back of a windowless utility truck they'd rented for their stakeout. Dylan backed away from the video screen to rush Lukus Mitchell, not giving a fuck that he was his boss. "You asshole. She's is so much trouble!"
Lukus's green eyes were serious, meeting him with a cold stare that was all business. Despite being tackled against the back panel of the truck, he maintained the connection of the cell phone to his ear.
"Settle down or you'll be relieved from duty." Lukus's voice was eerily calm.
"Fine by me. I've had enough of sitting out here with my thumb up my ass while Hannah and her friends are in danger. If you aren't going in with me, I'll go in alone."
Dylan's brother's arms closed around him from behind, pulling him off Mitchell. "Knock it off. You know we're working our connections to get the right law enforcement groups on the ground. They have to get search warrants and that takes time. We're going as fast as we can."
Dylan pushed free to round on his brother. "Well, it's not fast enough. He's going to hurt her!"
He saw regret in his brother's eyes and knew it wasn't fair to keep blaming the men in the truck for the vile shit Davenport was doing, but he didn't know who else to blame at that point. If he were truthful, he was maddest at himself; for not packing Hannah and Connor up in his rental car and driving away earlier that afternoon, when they'd had the chance.
Connor. Fuck, what a messed up family poor Hannah had come from. Hearing the story through their surveillance feed had been like torture. Cameron had filled in additional details he could glean from the press coverage of the story.
Dylan wanted to hold Hannah in his arms and tell her how proud he was of her for being so strong, for taking care of the innocent baby through all of the bullshit her family had put her through.
His blood simmered with anger as he thought about all they'd learned in the last hour. How Hannah's father had been the ringleader of one of the biggest American underground sex trafficking societies ever ferreted out by international law enforcement. Not only had the bastard pimped out his young daughters as favors to his scum friends, but he'd proudly fathered a son with his oldest daughter.
Connor had been the asshole's downfall for many reasons. The need to protect the innocent child had been the final straw, which had given Holly and Hannah the courage to report the incestuous abuse. The blood flowing through the kid had also provided the DNA evidence the police needed to help nail his father's ass to the wall.
The only consolation Dylan had from the sad story was that the FBI had put hundreds of sexual offenders behind bars when they'd brought the bastard down. The lowlife had kept meticulous records of his clients who'd bought the underground photos, videos, and even flesh—records that led right back to their doorstep.
I hope that asshole is raped daily for the rest of his miserable life in prison.
Z was eloquent as ever. "Will you all shut the fuck up so I can hear what the hell is going on? I thought we were still building evidence, not starting our own version ofFight Club."
Dylan reluctantly returned to the bank of surveillance screens capturing the entrances to the building. There were many screens that depicted the exterior of the building, but today he had all of his attention on the center console; the feed from Hannah's earring inside the warehouse. He heard Lukus behind him, fighting with the local district attorney Markus had gotten him connected to about the evidence, or rather the legality of the evidence, they'd collected.
On the monitor, he watched as Hannah scanned the dozens of cubicles filled with naked workers who were tied to their desks, several bouncing up and down on the rubber cock shoved up their pussy or ass as they talked dirty to paying customers on the other end of the line.
Fresh waves of anger flowed through him as he recalled the video of Hannah's rape they'd just had the horror of watching. He could barely contain his fury at himself knowing that he had been sitting in his rental car right outside Davenport's house as that nightmare had been playing out inside. At the time, Dylan had allowed the men to talk him out of bursting in to protect her, and now, unbelievably, he was being put into the same position again; sitting in the van, watching her getting deeper and deeper inside the torture chamber of the warehouse.
"Hang on. Davenport's talking again." Derek and Z were conferring, and he had to shush them so he could hear what was being said inside.
The men went silent, and then Dylan wished they hadn't as he heard Davenport saying, "I think I made it clear that all of my employees are naked at all times unless they're in fetish wear. I've been kind enough to let you keep your clothes on so far, but I'm afraid that has to change before we go to the party."
Dylan could see Jake reaching for Hannah from the vantage point of the small camera she wore. He grabbed the mic to talk to her, but Derek pulled it out of reach. "There's nothing you can say to her right now that will help her. She needs to stay focused on following Davenport's directions. Reminding her that we're witnessing her humiliation will only make it worse."
He hated that his brother was right. Dylan felt helpless as he watched her struggling in vain. He clapped his hands over his ears to block out the sound of her begging Jake to stop, and the sound of her clothes being ripped from her body.
