Page 7 of Merciless Protector

The girly yelp that left my throat would have embarrassed me in any other circumstance. A man shouted orders for us to stop, but it was far too late for that.

The god of a man’s cock jerked inside me despite the fact that his thrusting had stopped.

Despite the man’s orders for us to freeze while others were shouting “police,” informing us of who they were, the man who’d taken my virginity sat up and quickly got out of his suit jacket before they tackled him. He’d managed to give it to me before they had him pinned on the side of the bed with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“He didn’t do anything,” I shouted back as I used his jacket to cover my outfit. It sounded crazy for me to say in my own ears, but my instincts said I should trust him.

An angry cop snarled in my face, “Was it consensual? Are you a prostitute?”

Never in a million years did I think any kind of rescue would pin me as a criminal. Before I could wipe the incredulous look off my face and comprehend how this must all look to cops, my savior spoke.

“No. She didn’t have a choice. She was bought and paid for.”

My expression morphed. I couldn’t understand my savior. He wasn’t police or FBI, as the cops shoved me around in a way that screamed brutality.

“Is that true?” the cop asked me, his tone less hostile with a dash of misgiving.

“Well, yes. But—” The cop’s brow arched, and I was at a loss for words as I watched my nameless lover be hauled out of the room.

“What’s your name?” I called after him.

He had one foot out of the door when our eyes connected again. He seemed to hesitate a second. “Shawn,” he said before he disappeared out into the hallway.

The cop turned when a female cop tapped him on the back. I heard some of what they said as they spoke in hushed tones over the word “clear” being shouted from other rooms in the compound.

“I don’t know. She claims not to be a prostitute but seems to have some sort of Stockholm syndrome with the asshole we just took out of here.”

“Let me speak to her,” the female cop said.

He nodded and left out of the room. The woman smiled at me, and I knew she was trying to gain my trust. It was Cop 101 when trying to figure out if someone was a victim or a criminal.

Once the room emptied, she sat on the bed. I’d wrapped the suit jacket around me, comforted because it smelled like him.

“Why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Tayla James,” I said. “I was abducted months ago, I think. I’m not really sure.” More words spilled from me before she could ask me any more questions. “My little sister, Tabby, Tabitha, that is. She was talking to someone online. I caught her and after I read through the messages, I knew it was a trap set up by a predator.” A sob burst from my throat. “I thought I was smarter. I was going to confront the bastard and then give all the information to the authorities. But they were smarter. There was a little girl there waiting. And when I sat next to her and confirmed that I’d come in place of my sister, I thought maybe I’d misjudged the situation. Then I was pricked from behind and everything went black.”

I took a breath, and the officer asked, “By the man we took away?”

Slowly, I shook my head from side to side. “No. Ruin,” I said. Her face scrunched up in confusion. “They call him Ruin. My guess is for all the lives he ruins and likes doing it.” Then it dawned on me. “Did you catch him?”

“Why don’t you tell me more about what happened to you until this point?” she asked.

So I did. I’d woken up somewhere. I couldn’t say if it was here. I was never let outside or even saw a window. I had no idea if it was morning, noon or night. Days became less important. The abuse I’d suffered and avoiding it had been the only mark of time. It took a while to explain how Ruin had abused my mind more than my body. He’d been saving my virginity for the highest bidder, though I’d done just about everything else with him.

“I need to know you got him,” I finished.

She ignored my question. “What about the man we caught you with? Was he the highest bidder?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. “But he didn’t want to hurt me. I know it sounds weird. But they made him do it. Ruin threatened to kill him and give me to his men to be gang-raped.”

She gave me that come on expression. “He bought you, but he didn’t want to have sex with you?” she asked sarcastically.

The sincere look on his face when he whispered, “Trust me,” replayed in my head. No matter what anyone said, I believed him. “I know how it sounds,” I said frantically. “But you have to believe me. If I were to guess, I thought he was working with you guys.”

She briskly shook her head. “He’s not one of ours. I’m sure of that. My guess was he was messing with you to get you to trust him.”

Though what she said sounded more plausible, I couldn’t shake my gut feeling. “People can’t fake that,” I said.

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