Page 27 of Bought

This guy turns out to be an N guy. I’m in. I have access to the outside world, but I have to be more careful this time. If I’m going to turn Ethan in, I have to make sure it’s not to a compromised police force.

I do feel a little spark of guilt in doing this. I do have some affection for Ethan, but that’s probably just Stockholm syndrome. Does anal sex in the back of a luxury car give you that? I’m not sure. What I do know is that I’ve been fucked in nearly every hole I have. I’ve been whipped and spanked and threatened with more. And now that he doesn’t have an immediate use for me, I’ve been left to my own devices. I could probably rot in this room without ever seeing him again. For all I know, he’s taking some other woman captive right now. There’s no agreement between us, no loyalty to betray.

He has humiliated me at every turn, and he knows as well as I do how this game is being played. I will not stop until I win. And if he’s taken his eye off the ball, well, sucks to be him.

I tap the side of the phone with my finger, trying to think. Who can I go to? Social media? Maybe. Or maybe I should contact my friends. I do have some of them, even if I wouldn’t know a lot of them if I fell over them in the street. That’s the downside of only knowing people by their screen names. Or maybe I should take another chance on law enforcement.

The wrong choice could have devastating consequences for my ass, and the rest of me. But I have to make it, and I have to make it quickly, because the guy is going to notice he lost his phone, probably sooner rather than later. And when he does notice, after he’s hunted around for a bit and realized he doesn’t have it, he’s going to come looking for me. Because I’m the one who everyone knows isn’t allowed electronics.

Fuck it. If I have one shot, I’m going big. FBI all the way.

They’re surprisingly easy to get in touch with. There are phone numbers posted online right from the front page of the search engine. It’s just as easy to make a tip as it is to order a pizza.

Ethan’s wireless internet is open, but I force the phone to use the guard’s personal data because using Ethan’s internet is the same as just walking up and calling the Feds right in front of him. As it is, there’s some risk he’s using packet sniffers, but there are apps you can download to encrypt data and I do my best to secure the phone as much as possible before I make contact. Nothing is perfect, but I’m hoping Ethan doesn’t expect me to be able to get hold of a phone like this, and I’m hoping that even if he does, it’s too late.

I call. A woman answers. I start to stumble out the broken, disjointed story. Kidnapped. Held captive. High level spying on citizens. It all tumbles out and I’m half afraid it won’t make sense and she won’t believe me, but her voice is cool and professional.

“You say you’re in Ethan Keller’s private residence?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. I’m trembling with the adrenaline coursing through me. Is this it? Is this the part where Ethan and Jack and the whole nest of Vipyr gets taken down? Did I just become the tech equivalent of Snowden?

No, Snowden went public, and ended up having to live in Russia. I’ve gone to the government, so I should end up somewhere more comfortable than that.

“We will send some local units to investigate, ma’am.”

“You can’t tell the police. He has them paid off!” I sound paranoid. I sound unhinged. “It has to be your agency. It has to be FBI.”

There’s a brief pause and my world comes crashing down as I realize that there’s no way the FBI are going to send units to a billionaire’s house just because some random woman is telling them to.

“I’ve been missing for days,” I say, injecting all that fear into my voice. “Triangulate this call. I am at Ethan’s house.”

Maybe it’s the note of real panic and angst. Maybe I just get lucky. I don’t know, but my call is escalated quickly and from that point, people start taking me seriously. Two more agents speak to me. They tell me to be ready to leave. They say they will be approaching the house soon. All I need to do is try and get down to the front door if possible.

I do as I’m told. First, I turn the phone off and slip it somewhere it won’t be found. That is one benefit to being kept in a mansion. There are a lot of hiding places for small objects like that one. Then I go downstairs. Casually. Like I’m just wandering the place. I do that enough that nobody really seems to care.

I pass Forsyth on my way down the stairs. He gives me a brief nod and a murmured “m’lady.” It’s probably not supposed to be mocking, but I always feel a pang when he says anything like that. I am not a lady. I am a woman. A woman they’ve all fucked with for the last time.

It takes a while for the FBI to get there. I hover about on the front steps, between the grand columns, feeling each breath I take stretch into the eternity between now and my rescue.

And then I hear engine noise. A soft purr. And then the nose of a black sedan comes around the corner, followed by the rest of the vehicle. And another one. They’ve sent two cars for me! I’m trembling with the excitement of my imminent release as they pull to a halt outside the house.

Two agents clad in dark suits emerge from the front vehicle, and another two behind. Four men to save me. Oh, thank god. Tears well in my eyes as I start toward them, ready to dive into the back of the car.

Before I can, the back door opens. A familiar figure steps out.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!” I swear at the top of my lungs.

It’s Ethan. And he has the nerve to look pissed.

He strides toward me, grips me by the arm. “You called the Feds on me, Casey?”

“Uh…” I don’t know whether it’s worth even trying to lie or not. Something tells me it isn’t. Ethan’s eyes are narrowed to two angry slits. His jaw is clenched. This is nothing like the police station, or at the bus terminal. There’s no smug victory written over his face. I’ve pissed him off this time. Caused him trouble, maybe. Good.

“Yes, I called the Feds on you! You’re keeping me captive. You can’t do that!”

“I can, and I will continue to do so,” he growls, his hand tightening around my arm. To not have seen him for days and be reunited like this is… unexpected, to say the least. But his touch, as angry as it is, reminds me why I was so conflicted in the first place. He’s mad. So am I. But there’s a passion between us that sparks at every gnashed growl he makes.

Ethan drags me back into the house. The four agents follow silently after him. The guards are posted in what looks like a static formation. All eyes are on me. At least a dozen men, all with the granite expressions of those who must guard a wayward captive.

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