Goddess

Huxley

Goddess had a lot of questions, just like I anticipated. I knew I had to give her something. I don’t know how long she’ll be under my protection, but I couldn’t stand her thinking that I’ve taken advantage of her trust. After breakfast, I insisted that she head back to her suite. As long as she and I have an understanding, I don’t need to lock her in. If she was insane enough to attempt an escape, she wouldn’t get very far. My men have this estate and perimeter more secured than Fort Knox.

I had Hazel dress her bed with the most luxurious bedding, and after breakfast, Marisol retrieved some clothing from one of the spare suites. This isn’t my first rodeo; the attire, toiletries, and necessities I have for women are plentiful. I usually wait until I establish trust and dependence with the women I rescue. I typically use these items as bargaining power to get them to submit to my control. Unlike today, I typically can’t provide any information on the reason for them being here until much later, so their resistance can be challenging. Being able to offer essentials and comfort in exchange for good behavior, patience, and trust goes a long way. I don’t fuck these women, so there is no established connection.

After pouring myself another tumbler of scotch, I take a seat behind my desk. One of my newer guys, Jacob, dropped the package on my desk a half hour ago. I pull out the contents from the sealed large envelope. There’s nothing too specific other than some photos of Arlo’s men to be on the lookout for, their vehicles and plates, the surveillance photos they managed to capture of us in Marietta, and three burner phones— one for each week. I hope this all comes to a head before three weeks. I don’t know Benjamin personally, but I’ve worked with the FBI on quite a few occasions as an extension of protection since that’s not their focus. My mother thinks my work is solely for my advertising agency in New York. It’s an exceptional cover. As the CEO, she doesn’t question my flexibility to come and go.

My thoughts are interrupted by a small knock on the door. Goddess enters before I can grant entrance.

“Come right on in,” I say sarcastically as she makes her way to my desk. “Have a seat.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes as she realizes her mistake. She’s freshly showered and wearing one of the tube dresses that shows every last curve. My cock jumps at the sight. A single French braid lays across her shoulder.

She takes a seat in one of the leathered chairs in front of me. “I just wanted to formally thank you for all you’re doing to help keep me safe. And for the bedding, clothes, and all that other stuff.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask, taking a leisurely sip of my scotch.

“Marisol said you were likely in your office when I asked, but I waited until they left to come find where that was. They seem very protective of you and your privacy.”

“As they should be.”

“So who does all the stuff belong to? The stuff you had brought to my room? An ex?”

“The clothes are all new with tags,” I deadpan.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You know rich people have plenty of clothes they never wear.”

“Oh, I’m rich people now?”

“Well, you’re sure as shit not poor. You haven’t fooled me one bit … not even with the rusty old pickup truck.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes. This woman is something else. She gets under my skin like no other, but I’ll be damned, I kind of dig it.

“I’ve helped other women before, Goddess. You’re not my first. But everything is new. I don’t keep the things that are given to them. They either take it with them, or it is discarded.”

She struggles to scoot the heavy chair forward, but she manages. With elbows on my desk, she looks me directly in the eyes. “I want to ask you something, and please be straight with me.”

“I’ll try,” I say simply because I know I cannot make that promise.

“Of all your other captives, how many were you able to protect? How many returned to their normal lives? What are my chances here?”

“Women, not captives,” I clarify. “And my success rate at protecting the women in my charge is one hundred percent. It’s the reason the FBI consults me for my services.”

“Are you Special Forces, or do you have any military training?”

“Nope. Don’t need it. My men have that background. I have the knowledge and resources needed to be what we are now.”

“And what is that?”

“Ghosts. This estate has everything we need to hold out here for weeks, and the security is top-notch.”

“And where is this estate?”

“Nice try.” I smirk.

“Another question.” She smiles, and it’s the first one.

“I’m sure.”

“Have you ever fucked your other captives? Excuse me. I mean, the other women?”

“No, Goddess. I don’t fuck the women I’m supposed to be protecting.”

“But you fucked me. Why?”

“I was just supposed to be keeping an eye out on you. Notify them if you left town. Since you left all your credit cards behind, it made tracking you a bit more difficult. The FBI was able to get footage of you leaving town on the bus, but they knew once you got off, you’d be in the wind. Since you were heading my way, I was called to intercept you.”

“So when you saw me walking on the road, you already knew who I was?”

“Yes.”