Provoke

Chapter Fourteen

Mace

What the fuck am I going to do now?

I drove up into the parking lot of the motel outside our room. I know what you're thinking: kidnapping someone and taking them to a motel? That was the beauty of being a Jordan—you always know someone who can help out. Besides, I honestly thought that once she'd calmed down, she would listen to me. It was taking a lot longer than I'd expected.

I glanced around the empty parking lot of the motel. In the middle of nowhere and well off the main road, it didn’t look like they got much business—which was great, when you were in the business of kidnapping your girlfriend.

The office was situated at the front of the block, and I’d requested a room as far away from the road as possible, which also meant far away from the office. I mean, just because you know people aren’t going to ask questions doesn’t mean you don’t stay on your guard.

Walking into our room, I shut the door behind me. Leeta jumped and glanced up. Her eyes narrowed as she shot me a look cold enough to freeze the sun. I edged closer to her and gently took the gag out of her mouth, sighing as her pretty little lips fell into a scowl. She shook her dark hair, sending it flying wildly around her face.

“About fucking time,” she grumbled. Her eyes were shooting daggers at me.

Shit. Waiting for her to cool down wasn't going to work. If it were possible, I’d say she was even angrier than she was before.

I couldn't keep her tied up here much longer, but if I let her go, then it was over for me. I needed to make her understand. She could hate me as much as she wanted, but I had to make her understand why I was doing this.

“Are you ready to listen to me?”

I grabbed an old wooden chair that sat out of place near the couch and dragged it across the floor until it was in front of her. Sitting down, I hung my over the backrest. She glared at me.

I guess not. The pure hatred in her eyes stabbed right into my soul. My heart pounded. I so badly wanted to kiss her, and show her how much she meant to me. She was the only girl I'd ever fucking loved. She had to know that.

If I lost her . . . No, I couldn't even think about that night now.

“Are you ready to untie me?” she asked, ignoring my question. “I'm not a dog, Mace, so I don't deserve to be treated like one. I can't believe you fucking gagged me. I mean, what the hell?" Her voice rose as she struggled in her chair, her cheeks flushed red with anger.

"You're surprised I gagged you?" I couldn't help it—I laughed. "You were fucking screaming your ass off. Of course I was going to gag you.”

I reached forward and loosened the ties on her wrists. She freed them, and violently began loosening the ropes around her. She stood up and stalked around the room. Her fingers roamed her long, dark hair and her expression gave away nothing as to what she was feeling—except for how pissed she was. That she’d made very clear.

“Leet, please. Please listen to me.” I swallowed hard. My mouth was so dry it felt like it was made of sandpaper.

“Then talk. If you want me to listen to you, then fucking talk,” she yelled. “Tell me something worth hearing, or I swear to God, the second you give me the chance, I’m gone.” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was this close to losing her forever.

“For fuck’s sake.” I stood up and grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her back over to the couch. “You’re going to sit the fuck down and listen to me.” I was done being nice. Time was running out, and I needed to step things up a notch.

“Firstly, I'm sorry I kidnapped you. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. If you want to leave after what I tell you, then fine, but you are going to fucking listen to me.” I sat back and waited for her to respond.

She eyed me suspiciously, like she didn't quite believe that I would just let her leave like that. Honestly, I had no idea if I would. I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I hoped that once she heard me out, she would calm the fuck down.

I breathed out heavily. “I told you about Anna, and what happened to her.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Talking about Anna resurfaced all those feelings of guilt I’d managed to push down. “Before she died, she did some digging, and she found out some things. She wasn't just raped, Leets. She was hunted down and sold to the highest bidder."

"What . . . what are you talking about?" Leeta shook her head, confused.

“Just after she started university, she began hanging out with a group of girls that would spend every night out drinking and picking up guys. In high school, she was quiet. This was the complete opposite.” I took a deep breath, trying to force my thoughts to stay on track.

“I shrugged it off as her just having some fun, you know? She was my little sister, and I looked out for her, but she was nineteen and in her first year at university.”

“Mace,” Leeta said softly, “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“She started to change. She was getting into drugs, different guys rocking up for her every night. I didn’t think . . . It never occurred to me that there might have been a reason for her change in behaviour.”

“How could you have known, Mace? She was a teenage girl. They’re impossible to understand at the best of times. Trust me. I’ve been there.”

“I should’ve done something, Leets,” I said, frustrated. “I should’ve intervened. If she had been focusing on her studies instead of getting wasted every night in the first place, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“She was a kid being a kid. You can’t blame yourself, but you can’t blame her, either,” Leeta said.

“Then who the fuck do I blame?” I growled, spitting out the words. There was so much anger and confusion inside me, I had to direct it somewhere.

I looked up, surprised as Leeta’s hand slid into mine. This was her reaching out. It was a peace offering, an olive branch. I took her gesture and forced myself to continue. If she was willing to hear me out, then I had to talk.

“About a week, maybe less, after she killed herself, I got a package from her. There was a letter. Her way of saying sorry, I guess. She explained everything that had happened. The rape . . . what she could remember, anyway.”

“What happened?”

“She was taken from a bar after someone spiked her drink.” I leaned forward and ran my fingers through my hair. Fuck, I feel sick. Just thinking about what she’d gone through those few days made the anger boil inside me.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to Leeta about it. I could barely handle even thinking about what had happened to Anna.

Standing up, I kicked the chair back, sending it flying across the floor. I cupped my hands behind my head and began to pace.

Fuck. This isn’t good. Shit, shit.

Leeta stood up. She walked over and grabbed hold of my forearms. She dragged them down to her waist, the feel of my hands against her body calming me instantly.

“Talk to me. Make me understand. Give me a reason not to walk out that door the first chance I get. Please.” She stared into my eyes as though she were searching for any sign of hope, begging me to give her something.

Then it hit me: she wanted a reason not to hate me.

I was backed into a corner with very few options. I couldn’t keep her there forever. If I trusted her to walk away without going to the police, then I had to trust her to hear what I had to say. I had to trust her, because the alternative was something I couldn’t even think about right then.

I had to trust her, because I expected her to trust me.

Sitting down on the chair, I struggled to put my words in order. Where do I even start? There were things I couldn’t tell her—like what else was in that letter. Not yet.

“What you saw on those videos, it was completely consensual. Only, the buyer didn’t know that.”

She tensed at the mention of the videos. “The buyer?” she asked. Her brow furrowed.

“Anna wasn’t just raped. Her rape was sold online. They bid on girls, and whoever wins is sent a link to a private website where they can watch the rape exclusively.”

“You said she was sold? To the highest bidder?”

I nodded.

“That's . . . I don't even know what to say. So these girls . . . the videos . . . ?”

“Consensual," I said softly. "They are prostitutes. The only way I could think of to get to these guys was to become one of them. The girls? I guess you could say that they’re old friends of the family."

“Nice,” she muttered, her face sullen. “So you knew them?” The hurt in her face was obvious. I sat forward and grabbed her hand, pleading with my eyes.

“Please, Leet. You don't need to forgive me. I understand that what I did was wrong. But I need you to understand why I did this. I need you to understand how important it is that I find these guys. Not just for Anna, but for everyone else. There are other victims. And they will keep doing this until someone stops them.”

Her eyes lowered. I could see my last words had gotten to her. She believed me; I could feel it. Her hate was faltering. Leeta stared at the floor. She was listening, and that was a good sign.

“So . . . what exactly are you doing?” she asked.

“I have no fucking idea.” I wiped my brow, the sweat building up even though it wasn’t all that warm. “All I know is that these people are going to pay for what they did to her.”

Leeta was silent. I watched her closely, searching for a sign that just maybe, on some weird level, she got what I was doing.

“I don’t know what to say . . . These people, do you know where they are?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I know a bit.” Something was stopping me telling her just how much I knew at this point. The less she knew, the more I could keep her safe. If they found out I was onto them, I didn’t know what they’d be capable of.

“And if you find them? Then what?” Her voice was soft, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to know the answer.

“I don’t know,” I lied. I knew. I knew exactly what I was going to do when I found the assholes responsible for this.

“So this is far from over.”

“I’m sorry, Leet. You have to know, those videos . . . all I thought of was you and how much I’d be hurting you.” And that was the damn truth. “All the cash I made from the videos went straight to the girls. That kept them off the streets for a few weeks, Leet.” I was clutching at straws now, desperate to justify myself in any way I could.

Leeta sat there, frowning. Her silence was killing me. She rubbed her wrists where the rope had burned through the top layer of her skin, leaving a nice red mark in its wake. My throat constricted. Fuck, I’d hurt her. I’d actually caused her physical pain.

I wanted to reach out and touch her wrists. I wanted to kiss them better, make the pain go away.

But I didn’t. I sat there, ashamed. Ashamed of how deeply I’d hurt her. Ashamed that no matter what her reaction was, it wouldn’t stop me pursuing this.

“I think I need to lie down,” she mumbled. She stood up and walked to the bedroom. At the door, she turned around. “You sure you don’t want to tie me to the bed?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oh, God. The thought of her tied to the bed in there was not something I wanted to think about just then. My cock twitched as I watched her disappear into the room.

Fuck.