Escape the Night Read online

  Anya tried to concentrate while Dean went over details with Gus. He explained, among other things, that someone had already shopped for clothes and whatever other necessities they'd need. That everything was waiting for them at the safe house. But all she heard was a buzzing in her head, a result of the tension gripping her. Why had she ever accepted that first date with Virgil? She had been such a stupid, gullible smalltown fool. She hadn't really been aware until the trial of just how little like a "good ol'

  boy" Virgil actually was. Rather he was a viciously evil entrepreneur, dealing in human flesh, with a network that extended globally.

  Anya looked at Gus, her forehead creased in worry. "What about my friends Stella and Amy? He'll go after them, too."

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  Sorrow flashed in Dean's eyes. "I hate to say this, Miss Kane, but if they were with Virgil willingly when you saw them last, it's possible they're already in his pipeline."

  "Oh, god, I hope not." She twisted her hands together. "Can you check on them?

  Please? Is that possible?"

  Dean nodded. "I'll make sure we send agents to scope out the situation. If they're still around, we'll offer them protection."

  "Thank you," she breathed.

  "Okay, then." Dean stood up and slapped his hand on the table. "Time to go," he said, and looked directly at Gus. "You all set?"

  Gus nodded and urged Anya from her chair. Bending low to her head, he whispered, "I promise it will be all right. I'll take care of you and keep you safe."

  "I trust you," she whispered back. But she was still frightened. She clung to Gus as Barton led them from the conference room to the elevator. Around them activity hummed in the various cubicles, despite the unreal hour. Rather than punching the button for the parking garage, Dean took a key from his pocket and slid it into a tiny lock on the elevator panel.

  "We don't need company right now," he told them. "This is just in case."

  He pressed the top button and they rode silently to the roof. The moment that Dean pushed open the heavy metal door to the roof Anya heard an unfamiliar noise and a strong breeze nearly knocked her off her feet. She shaded her eyes against the wind and saw a black helicopter waiting with its rotor already in motion. They headed for the helo, bending low to avoid the rotor wash. Gus helped Anya in first and motioned for her to buckle herself in. Then he climbed in next to the pilot, nodded at Dean and slammed the door shut. In seconds they were lifting off the roof. Anya folded her hands tightly in her lap and tried not to look at the city falling away beneath them.

  * * * * *

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  Anya unpacked the suitcase that had been left for her with almost no interest. She appreciated the fact that someone had gone to the trouble of learning--or doing a good job of guessing--her sizes and tried to pick things that would please her, but clothes were the last thing on her mind. Her movements were almost automatic as she put away her things and Gus' in the heavy oak dresser and the big walk-in closet. Gus was in the living room with John Randolph, the agent who'd met them at the landing field and driven them here to this nice quiet neighborhood.

  John had walked them through the house, showing them all the security precautions--the sensors around the outside of the house, the cameras both on the roof and in the trees that fed into a computer in the den, the trip wires around the doors and windows. Now the two men were working out their on-duty schedule. She hoped John took the nights so she could feel Gus' warm body next to hers at night. Otherwise she wasn't sure she could sleep.

  He'll find me, no matter what they do. He never gives up. No one ever goes against him. Why had she thought she could be the exception?

  A scene flashed across her mind, the second night she'd been at Virgil's big house. She'd heard noises coming from downstairs, arguing and then crying. Cautiously she'd opened the door to the room he'd stuck her in. The man who always stood guard in the upstairs hall heard her door creak open and was at her in a flash.

  "Shut the damn door, bitch." He loomed over her, an ugly mountain of a man.

  "You've been told not to leave the room. That means keeping the door closed."

  Anya had closed it but left it open enough to see and hear. The weeping continued, a lost, hopeless sound.

  "Damn you, Virgil." A man's strident voice. "You were supposed to soften her up for me. What the hell happened?"

  Anya knew all about the "softening up". Virgil had explained to her in great deal how she would be prepared for the men with extremely large cocks. How his men would take turns with her until she learned to please them and developed the proper 27

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  attitude for his clients. Clients of course being a euphemism for the very wealthy men who purchased the girls from him like so much merchandise. Sometimes at night, while she waited in fear to see if he would send someone to her, she heard the screams of others being brutalized and she'd pull the pillow over head, trying to blot out the sound.

  But that day she knew a very wealthy Asian man had come to make a selection. Virgil had visited them each in turn and informed them.

  "Not you, sweet thing," he told Anya, holding her chin in a brutal grip. "I haven't gotten you properly prepared yet."

  She'd waited, terrified, to see if he really meant to or if she would be put up for selection with the others. Then she heard the weeping and shouting, a hard crack! like a slap followed by a scream that froze Anya's blood.

  "Idiot!" the Asian man had shouted. "I don't want them if you cut them to pieces."

  "No problem," Virgil had said in that smooth voice of his. "I got plenty more where she came from."

  That's when Anya had known she had to escape at any cost. Being dead was better than what Virgil had in store for her.

  And why she'd believed him that day in court when he'd said he'd kill her. Not even Gus or all the other FBI agents were going to stop him. The cold knowledge had settled inside her, sucking the life from her.

  Depressed, she sat down on the bed, still holding a sweater in her hands, and buried her face in the soft fabric.

  "Hey, hey, hey! What's this?"

  She hadn't heard Gus come into the room but suddenly he was there, taking the sweater out of her hands, lifting her up and then seating himself with her in his lap.

  "What is it, darlin'?" One warm hand caressed up and down her spine. "You've got a bad look on your face."

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  Anya buried her face in her chest. She didn't like to talk about these things with Gus, although she'd told him every gruesome, painful detail the night he rescued her. Then she'd had to repeat everything for her formal deposition and again in court. But just the thought of what might have happened to her--what had happened to others--

  made her feel dirty. She didn't want it to touch what she had with Gus, not when she'd come so far in their relationship.

  "He's never going to let me go." Her voice was muffled against his shirt. Gus slid his warm hand under her hair and cradled the nape of her neck, tilting her head back to look at him.

  "Yes, he will."

  He said it with such finality she could almost believe him.

  "Listen to me, darlin'." He kissed her forehead. "I give you my word you are going to be safe. That Branson will be caught and locked up in prison again. That this time there won't be any slipups once we get our hands on him again. And you can take that to the bank with you."

  Anya clutched his shirt in her fists and burrowed against the hard wall of his chest.

  "You just don't know how evil he is. Oh, Gus, I'm so scared."

  "We'll get through this." He pressed light kisses to her forehead and cheeks, cradling her against his body. "It took a lot of guts for you to tell me what happened and then get past it. And even more for you to stand up in court and repeat everything with Virgil Branson sitting right there. But you did it. And we'll get through this together, too."

  His han
ds were roaming her body, caresses meant to soothe and reassure. But despite the precariousness of their situation, the caresses soon turned to something else. Anya felt his cock harden beneath her lap, the sensation drawing moisture from her cunt and hardening her nipples. Gus' mouth moved to her lips, his tongue tracing the shape of them. One hand moved around to cup a breast through the soft material of her t-shirt, his thumb rasping nipple. His shaft flexed against her buttocks. 29

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  Anya gave a soft little moan and pressed into his touch, her mouth opening to accept his tongue. Then without warning he tore his mouth away, stood up and set her back down on the bed.

  "Give me one minute. I need to make sure John is squared away and I'll tell him we're going to catch a little more sleep before the sun comes up."

  By the time he returned to the bedroom Anya had stripped off her clothes and was in bed with the covers drawn up to her chin. She was shivering as much from fear as from the cool air. She needed Gus' warmth to chase away the chills and the terror. When Gus climbed into bed beside her she went into his arms and huddled against him.

  "I still don't know how you can even touch me," she whispered. "You know, after everything I told you."

  "What you told me was not about you," he told her. "It was about Virgil Branson and his evil business. I know what happened tonight brought it all back, darlin', but nothing Virgil did or threatened to do could make a difference in who you are or the way I feel about you. You've come so far, Anya. We're building something so good. Don't let him take it from you. From us."

  "Oh, Gus," she half sobbed. "Help me."

  "Close your eyes," he instructed. "That's it. Now. Just think about me. This is my hand moving over you. My mouth sucking and drinking. My tongue lapping at your body. Just me, Anya. Just me."

  His hand drifted across her breasts, cupping each one before lightly pinching each nipple. He drew a line from the pulse at her throat to her navel with the tip of his tongue, lifting her body to him as he licked and lapped. Suddenly Anya knew what she had to do. What she needed to do to make this about her and them and not the nightmare she'd thought had finally disappeared. Pushing at him she rolled up to her knees and pushed him flat on his back. His hands reached up and gripped her arms. "You don't need to do this."

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  Yes," she protested. "I do. And I want to."

  The first three days Virgil had kept her at the house, coming to her room at all hours, smooth-talking as he stripped her of her clothes and examined her as if she were a package on display, she'd made up her mind to attack him any way she could if he tried to fuck her. Penetrate her. Put his cock inside her. But that hadn't been number one on his to-do list. The mouth, he'd told her. That's where the real talent was, and hers was just made for what he wanted. For weeks after moving in with Gus she'd gagged just remembering the image of herself kneeling on the floor, naked, hands bound behind her back, while Virgil gripped her head and plunged in and out of her mouth.

  It had taken weeks for Gus to convince her that what Virgil did and what he wanted for the two of them were worlds apart. The first time she'd hesitantly taken his rigid shaft into her mouth, tasting the velvety skin with her tongue and licking the smooth head, she'd moved slowly, forcibly pushing Virgil from her mind. But the pleasure she'd given him had been so intense she'd actually looked forward to doing it again. And again.

  Now she knew it was what she needed to put this new nightmare in its place. To deal with what was happening and know in her own mind that what she had with Gus was truly something special.

  Kneeling beside him, she cupped his heavy sac with one hand and wrapped the fingers of the other around his pulsing cock. In the soft light from the bedside lamp she could see how dark the head was, how thick the tiny drop of fluid already seeping from the slit. She took a tentative swipe with her tongue across the surface, feeling power surge through her when a strangled groan rolled from his throat. The sound empowered her. She tightened her grip at the root of his cock and lowered her head over him, taking him into her mouth as deep as she could. She waited tensely for the feeling of dread to return, the one Gus had banished with loving 31

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  patience and attention. But Gus' essence filled her too completely, leaving no room for anything else.

  Rolling his sac in her fingers, she sucked his cock into her mouth as deeply as she could, setting a steady pace. The thick vein that wrapped around his shaft pulsed against her tongue, his erection flexing and swelling as she pulled and drew on it. Her small fist moved up and down in rhythm with her mouth while her fingers continued to squeeze and play with his balls.

  Gus lifted one of his hands to tangle the fingers in her hair but yanked it back down quickly. She had described to him so vividly how Virgil had held her head in place that he'd schooled himself not to repeat anything that could remind her of that action. But tonight she needed him to do it, to erase every vestige of memory of that horrific time. Momentarily removing her fingers from his cock, she reached out for his hands and placed it against her temple. She held his wrist in a tight grip until he finally threaded his fingers through the fall of her hair, his mouth making small sounds of satisfaction. Anya smiled around the width of his cock, reveling in his touch. The glide of his fingers through her hair reminded her that this was Gus, not someone to be feared. Gus, who'd taught her how to enjoy her body and his. Gus, who gave her sanctuary and a future.

  As she moved her head and fingers up and down she lost herself in the rhythm and the taste of him. Everything faded away but Gus, his body, and his wonderful response to her. Beside her he tensed, hands clenched into fists, body arching up to meet her mouth. His taste was intoxicating, his response even more so. Faster and faster, she moved, her fingers busily manipulating his balls in the soft skin of his heavy sac.

  "Jesus!" he groaned.

  Anya worked him harder, mouth stretching around his erection, tongue licking, fingers busy, until his entire body tensed and arched nearly off the bed. He exploded in her mouth, coming in great spurts. She swallowed it as fast as she could, his semen 32

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  coating her tongue and her throat, the slide of it heating her body and sending jolts of passion to her cunt.

  She sucked him until the last of his release jetted from his body and then slowly slid her mouth up the length to the head, letting her lips glide over it in one last caress. Gus still had his fingers tangled in her hair and he exerted gentle pressure to urge her to move on top of him. His lungs strained for air and as she laid her head on his chest she could hear the heavy staccato beat of his heart, a sound that gave her immense comfort.

  "You're amazing," he said when he could breathe again. "Incredible. Astounding. Unbelievable."

  She smiled against his chest. "I don't think so, but I love the words."

  He slid his hands beneath her arms and tugged her until her face was level with his.

  "Feel better, darlin'?"

  "Mm-hmm." His warmth seeped into her, wiping away that last vestiges of chill.

  "But I think we didn't do this right." He tilted her head so she was looking directly into his eyes.

  "W-What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I was supposed to be taking care of you. Making you feel better." His fingers tap danced up and down her spine.

  "Uh-uh. You're always making me feel even better than good. Tonight I wanted to know that I could do that for you. That your pleasure came from me."

  He looked hard into her eyes, as if trying to see to the very bottom of her soul.

  "Don't you know that you make me feel good just by being with me? Anya, the best I ever had doesn't come close to how good this is. And only with you. Virgil Branson is an animal, a bug, and we're going to squash him. I won't let you think less of yourself because of him."

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  The knot that had tightened in her stomach when the phone call came, tha
t seemed to reach upward into every part of her body and coil her more tightly than a spool of wire, unwound with a distinctive snap! She inhaled Gus' wonderfully familiar scent and placed feathery kisses on his chin and jawline.

  "What would I do without you?" she sighed.

  "That's something I don't intend to find out." He rolled her onto her side, spooned her against him and pulled the covers up over them both. "Sleepy time, darlin'. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

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  Chapter Four

  Despite all the activity of the night before--of all kinds--Gus was up at six the next morning, too jittery to stay in bed. He showered and dressed as quietly as he could, tucking the covers around Anya's chin and brushing a kiss across her forehead before heading for the kitchen. In sleep her face was unguarded and vulnerable and his heart ached for what she was going through. When he found the son of a bitch who'd sprung Branson they'd have a hard time keeping him from taking the guy apart with his bare hands.

  It still amazed him that so much had grown between him and Anya since the night she'd called him, frantic for help. Her story had made his gut burn with anger at people like Branson who were nothing more than flesh peddlers. She'd been the key to unlock the case he'd been trying to build against Branson, an unexpected gift dropped into his lap.

  And out of that had come a relationship that reached into the darkest corners of his soul and gave them light. It had taken a lot of patience to build her trust, and even more to teach her that erotic love in all its forms was pleasurable to participants. Anya had been sexually uneducated and frightened to death after her experience with Branson. But they'd come so far now.

  Thinking about last night he smiled to himself, remembering the feel of her mouth around his swollen cock. Gone was her shyness, replaced by a woman whose appetites had grown to match his own. With the unpredictability of his job, not to mention the darkness he worked with constantly, he'd never expected to have this kind of relationship. And he was going to make damn sure nothing happened to her. A freshly brewed carafe of coffee stood in the machine on the counter. John Randolph came in through the back door just as Gus finished filling a mug for himself. 35