AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And when the cop continued to speak, I was astounded to find out how messed up things had gotten for her. “Unfortunately, the guy named Rob isn’t really his true name. His real identity is Colin Caruthers and he’s been involved in a lot of prostitution and human trafficking.” He paused, giving Olivia a pitying, sorrowful look. “He apparently befriends men who are popular on campuses so he can gain access to pretty girls. Then, once he finds his target, he invites them to his partner’s house. We were having a hard time locating the place and it was just in San Diego, right on the border to Mexico.
“Sean and Colin are both in custody as well as most of the guys that were involved at the house that night.” He shook his head, muttering about the fact they had searched through there for years without finding a trace. “In the past, all the women that attended those parties never came back out. Most all of them were sold as slaves in Mexico, Argentina and Brazil, just to name a few.”
Olivia was shaking, tears freely rolling off her face as she listened to him. Needing to be with her, I softly moved towards the other side of the bed where I could easily see the cop’s face while I held her hand, wanting her to know I was here. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Your friend Patrick was the one who called 911 when he saw what was going on, but he was shot, and by the time the paramedics got to him, it was too late. He died a few minutes later. He said there was an undercover that helped him get you out, but we have yet to know who that person is. You’re very lucky to be alive, and even luckier to have had Patrick looking out for you. Most of these women didn’t have Patricks to save them from being beaten and sold into slavery.”
After he left, I went to her and carefully placed myself on the bed next to her, holding her as I listened to her weep for her loss and the close encounter that could’ve butchered her body and self-respect. I was hurting right along with her, yet I had to remain strong, knowing she needed my strength to recover. It was going to be a long road from here, however I wasn’t going anywhere. Wherever Olivia went, I would be there.
No more separation, I vowed as I held her close. This woman was the most important thing in my life, and I would gain her trust again. One day at a time.
CHAPTER67
A week later
My nightmares weren’t allthat bad compared to how it was for me when I was awake. The voices and images only appeared when I was up and about in the apartment. Those times, Grey usually distracted me with movies, music and stand-up comedy shows on his iPad. He did everything to cheer me up, and he was doing a great job of it.
My guilt ate me up every time I thought of Patrick, though. His burial took place last week, and I wished I had been there to say goodbye. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been sold somewhere, and I probably would’ve killed myself because I wouldn’t allow that kind of torture to be done to me. Grey was kind enough to take care of sending something to his family since I was a crying mess most of the time.
I knew it was eating Greyson up not to call Mom and Brett to report what had happened to me, yet I had made a promise that, when the time came that I was ready to talk about it, I’d openly tell her everything. The same thing had happened to my father; I told him a white lie about drinking too much beer and vowing not to drink crazy anymore.
To me, it wasn’t about my well-being and the hospitalization that made me want to hide what had happened to me; it was the bigger picture that bothered me the most. It was Rob’s deceitfulness and evil intentions, the whole disgraceful scheme of bringing women to Sean’s house. All those women there… FUCK. Didn’t they feel any guilt? And they had done all this harm for what, money? It felt like some dumb joke being played on me, and the days that hounded me more with guilt were the days I wanted to scream and break free from this life I had created for myself.
The only times things became easy were when Greyson held me. And he did, whenever he could. He practically lived here, only excusing himself for an hour or two to go back to his apartment to get some clothes. I also thought he was utilizing this time to go see Edith.
She called consistently even though he didn’t tell me it was her. I could tell from the way he spoke on the phone, using the soft voice that he only used with her. Jealousy ate at me, yet I felt comforted that Grey came home to me, not her. I knew he was doing this because he felt responsible without Mom here and also for thinking this was all his fault to begin with, but still, it felt great to have his full attention on me.
Usually, he’d leave for an hour or so, but today, he was gone for more than that. In fact, it was already past nine at night and he’d been gone for about seven hours without me hearing from him. I tried to call but was sent to voicemail. Texting him a message gave me no response, either.
So here I was, feeling like a basket case, all the while imagining him in all these scenarios about being pinned down with one of Sean’s men or something, or having sex with Edith, or with some other woman who would freely open her legs to him. I mean, I may be bruised and all, but I wasn’t incapable of thinking that he had needs, too. Besides, after a long week without any sex—assuming that he didn’t do shit with anyone in those two hour disappearances—he was bound to crave it. He slept next to me, so I knew he was horny all night long without complaining about it, nor did he try anything with me. All night he’d hold me close, yet he never did anything that would indicate anything sexual.
So if he wasn’t getting it from me, he had to be getting it from someone else. He might’ve done this because he respected me enough and because of the crap my body had gone through in the past week. I appreciated his effort. Still, it stung to know he couldn’t hold himself back until the time came when I was ready to be with him in that sense.
Apart from the bruises that were starting to heal, I didn’t really have any major trauma on my body. The major infliction was all mental. And I did feel like a crazy mess sometimes. I was angry about Greyson not bothering to call, yet deep down, I knew I had no right to be.
Sitting on the couch after two more hours of waiting, I got up at ten past eleven to go to bed. Greyson was a douche—a sexy, kind-hearted asshole to the highest order.
I fell asleep hating him. So waking up at about one in the morning to the sound of the door opening and closing, my anger hadn’t subsided.
Coming off the bed, I stomped out of my bedroom and into the living room, ready for him to go back to wherever he had come from.
He looked up when he saw me burst out of the room. Then, when he saw how furious I looked, a deep frown creased his face. “Olivia?”
He seemed tired... probably because he had been over-exerting himself with someone’s vagina. My imagination was giving me vivid images before I greeted the stud.
“Get out!”
“What? Come on; it’s one in the morning and I’m exhausted,” he complained, trying to reach me before I yanked his hand away.
I growled then stomped towards the room and took his duffel bag, running back to where he stood and shoving it in his face. “I. Said. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
The tenderness vanished from his countenance before he looked hard at me, jaws locking as he ground his teeth together.
“Are you deaf?I said get out!” I screamed into his stony face. He did not react to my outburst, however, which only drove me more insane. My love for him was ruining me slowly and I couldn’t help how betrayed I felt. Thinking that he’d been with someone and come home and sleep right next to me as if it was no big deal, tore me to shreds. “I don’t need you—you’re a lying bastard and a philanderer!”
“What are you talking about?” he growled out his response.
I wouldn’t know. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You need to leave.”
