I pulled up in front of the building not too much later, but I didn't get out of the car. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in and introduce myself, then ask her to come in to interview, or if I wanted to take my time. I needed someone soon, but I also needed to be thorough. I could do the background check this afternoon, then put into motion the plan I'd come up with while on the phone with Curt.
It was actually pretty simple, aside from the deception part. I'd contact a potential employee and hire them to fix a problem. I'd spruce up Truman's backdoor, make it harder to find, and then tell the person a half-truth about what had happened. I'd make it sound like the program was already installed in my system and I only had a couple hours to get it fixed before Truman's client knew my company was vulnerable. I'd have to say someone else had found it to make it seem like I couldn't fix it myself. I didn't like the idea of anyone thinking I couldn't spot something like that, but it would be the only way the lie would work.
With this plan, I'd be able to see how someone would react in a high pressure, time sensitive situation, how thorough and fast they were and how dedicated. If they were good enough, I'd tell them the truth, and their reaction would tell me a great deal about their personality.
I pulled out my phone and looked at the number for Lang Tech Consulting. If Curt thought she was good, I’d start with his recommendation. As I dialed, I looked out the window. A figure caught my eye, and it was no wonder.
She was about average height with an athletic build that was worth a second look, especially in her short skirt and fitted shirt. And her hair was blue. Like bright blue. I could see some piercings glinting in the sun as well as some impressive ink. Definitely the kind of woman people looked at.
The phone in my hand started ringing and I watched as the blue-haired girl pulled hers out of her bag.
“Lang Tech Consulting.”
Of course that would be her, I thought to myself with a smile. “Hi, I'd like to make an appointment,” I said. “It’s a big system job, so it'll need to run late when everyone's out of the office.”
I watched her bend over and dig through her bag, pull out a notebook and ink pen. The skirt rode up her thighs, exposing the sleek muscles there. “That's fine,” she said as she stood back up.
Her voice was a bit huskier than I'd imagined and my stomach twisted. I wondered what she would sound like in bed. Moaning. Calling my name...
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” Heat rose to my cheeks as I realized I'd completely missed what she'd said.
“What's the company name?” she asked again.
“Archer Enterprises.” I watched as she disappeared into the apartment building. “And the sooner, the better.”
I was tempted to drag out the conversation, but I decided against it. I'd have plenty of time to talk to her when she came in for her 'interview.' I fully intended to stay and watch her through the whole thing. Aside from needing to see how she worked and processed difficult situations, I also wasn't about to let some stranger anywhere near my system without me hovering over them. If she was as good as Curt claimed, she could do serious damage if she wanted to.
I watched the building for a few more minutes, then headed back to the office. I couldn't quite get her out of my head though. I wasn't sure what it was, but something about her intrigued me. Maybe it was because I wanted to know the story behind her appearance. The hair. The tattoos and piercings. The clothes. Who was this girl? What was her story?
– The End –
The Pleasure Series concludes in PURE PLEASURES, the next book in this box set.
Pure Pleasures
Pleasure Series Book 3
By M.S. Parker
Chapter 1
I'd done a lot of difficult things in my life, some by force, some by choice, but this had been the hardest. I'd survived thirteen years of abuse so horrific that it made some of the most hardened members of law enforcement blanch. I'd practically raised myself after being passed from one foster home to another. I'd testified before grand juries, reliving my abuse. I'd nearly been raped and killed again not too long ago, then I’d given up justice to protect the innocent.
None of that compared to walking out of that house.
The cab driver didn't say a word after I told him to take me to a hotel, and I was grateful. I was sure he had his suspicions about why I'd had him pick me up by the road, but I didn't feel the need to explain myself. I really didn't care what the man thought of me. It was clear where I was coming from. Ever since that magazine article declared twenty-eight year-old Rylan Archer, billionaire CEO of Archer Enterprises, one of the country's most eligible bachelors, his house outside Fort Collins, Colorado, wasn't exactly a secret. A young woman coming out of the house early in the morning, well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what I'd been doing there.
I smothered a half-laugh. No, it didn't take a genius because even a genius would never have guessed why I was really there. Sure, I looked a lot more normal than I had when Rylan and I first met, but it was still clear that I was so far from Rylan's league I shouldn't have even been able to see his dog house let along his mansion. My hair was back to my natural ebony color rather than the bright blue it had been a few weeks ago, and I'd taken out my eyebrow and bellybutton piercings, but I still had scars, tattoos and multiple ear piercings. I continued to dress in the clothes I liked, ones that didn't exactly fit in with Rylan's rich world or his social-climbing parents.
But he'd chosen me despite my appearance. He'd loved me before I'd told him the truth about my past and he still loved me after. He'd heard disgusting details that had made seasoned cops turn away from me, and he loved me anyway. Wanted me. He'd protected me, shared his life with me. His home.
Our home.
I choked back a sob.
It had been our home for a day. Not even that. We were supposed to have spent today unpacking the few things I was bringing from my apartment. He'd promised to make love to me in every room, making new memories that would be just the beginning of our new life together. It was a new year, a year that he'd thought we'd be spending together. Up until last night, I'd thought it too.
Last night.
I crossed my arms tighter across my chest. I could feel the crack in my heart and knew that it was going to shatter soon. I'd heard people talk about the pain of a broken heart after a break-up and I'd always thought they were being melodramatic. Surely the loss of a boyfriend or girlfriend, especially someone who hadn't been around long, couldn't be that bad. Especially when compared to what I'd already gone through in my life.
I hadn't known shit.
I could barely breathe and every beat of my heart felt like glass being shoved through my ribcage. I'd endured physical pain so bad that I'd thrown up, passed out...this was worse. Not because what I had gone through wasn't bad, but because I'd been hurt so much that I knew physical pain eventually ended. When my mother had poured hot grease on my side, it had been excruciating. But I had healed. I had healed from it all. Some things had taken surgeries and some things would never be the same, but my physical injuries had disappeared with the passage of time.
I didn't believe my heart would ever recover.
I'd never been in love before, never even had a crush before, and when I'd fallen, I'd fallen hard. I'd tried not to. Really, I had. I'd told myself that I couldn't trust him. That men only lied and hurt. That he would use me and leave me. I'd told myself that he was too good for me and he'd eventually see it. Once I'd known I loved him, I'd still tried to guard my heart, reminding myself that it wouldn't last.
Except it wasn’t Rylan who'd walked away this morning. It was me. I'd been the one who'd taken those steps. The one who was now going to hide, torn between wanting him to come after me and wanting him to forget.
All because of that damned Suzette.
I took a slow breath to keep myself from crying. It wasn't Suzette's fault, not really. Certainly, she could have been more tactful about it, but she'd spoken the truth. I supposed, if I wanted to be angry at someone for not being truthful, Rylan should've been my first choice. He'd said it didn't matter.
I couldn't be mad at Rylan though. He'd only ever wanted to protect me, take care of me. I was sure he'd meant it when he said he didn't care that I couldn't have children. That the people who'd abused me had hurt me so badly that I'd never be able to get pregnant, let alone carry a child.
But as soon as Suzette had told me how all Rylan had ever wanted was a family, I'd known the truth. He hadn't wanted to hurt me, so he'd convinced himself he was okay with it. Maybe he'd stay that way for a while. A year, maybe two. But then he'd start to see his friends with families, if they didn't have them already. He'd find himself watching commercials for baby things, listening to his parents when they started making comments to his sister about being grandparents.
He'd leave me, and if I was lucky, he wouldn't resent me first. We could part on good enough terms that I could keep my job.
Instead, I'd decided that I wouldn't put him through that. I'd given myself a final night. And then I'd woken this morning, written a note and left it with my Christmas present. I'd not go home...
Home.
Once, that word had meant fear and pain. Then it hadn't existed. As an adult on my own, I'd worked hard and made a place of my own. A home that had been, if not perfect, good enough for me to sleep at night without fear.
I blow out a breath. That home had been taken away from me too, the night Christophe Constantine had broken in. I shudder at the memory… the fear, the loss of hope I’d felt in those terrible moments.
But I’d survived that too, and I hadn’t had to survive it alone. Rylan had been there for me and had offered me a home. A real one. With someone I not only loved, but trusted and made me feel safe.
Now I had nothing.
I did, however, have enough money to stay at a hotel for a while. Rylan would come to my apartment, but he wouldn't stay long. I'd be able to go back in a while, finish out my lease.
I closed my eyes and slowly counted to ten. I didn't want to think about what was to come. It was hard enough to think about the next second, the next minute. The future had returned to what it had been all those years ago, before I'd been rescued. Bleak darkness. Black. Nothingness.
“Miss?”
The cab driver's voice came through before the hole I was digging for myself could get too bad.
“Will this do?”
I opened my eyes and looked out the window. It was a nice hotel, well within my budget, and not the kind of place that rented by the hour. It would do. I thanked him, paid him and headed inside with the little I'd brought with me.
Ten minutes later, I was checked in and curled up on the bed, finally giving in to my tears and my pain.
Chapter 2
I knew better than to struggle and I lay limp as my mother tied my wrists and ankles to the loops she'd sewn into my mattress. I was older now than I had been when she'd first done it and I had an idea that I could possibly rip them out, get free. What was the point though? I was almost thirteen and knew how the world worked. Even if I did manage to escape, I had nowhere to go. As my mother repeatedly reminded me, I'd be out on the streets, forced to fuck strangers for money to eat. At least here, I had a bed, such as it was, and food, when Mom remembered to get it. And she was careful about the men using protection because she didn't want me catching some disease or, as of last month, getting pregnant. On the streets, I wouldn't always have the option.
I stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the little cracks in the plaster rather than the fact that I was naked and spread out for whatever was going to happen next. It was harder to concentrate when I felt fingers on me. More than two hands and at least one belonged to a woman. I could feel the bite of her nails.
They were talking, but I didn't pay attention. Unless they were talking directly to me, there wasn't a point. It wasn't like I was going to remember faces or figure out who they were. Even if I did, it wouldn't matter. I knew I'd been raped by at least one doctor, a couple cops, a judge and a politician or two over the years, though I knew the numbers had to be much higher. Not that it mattered. No one would believe me if I accused them. I'd given up hope of rescue and justice years ago. All I had left was a primal instinct of self-preservation demanding I stay alive, and even that was fading again. I didn't think I'd be able to pull myself out this time.
I made a small pained sound when the first man climbed on top of me, but nothing more. I turned my head so I wouldn't have to see his face and tried to go somewhere else. It didn't work this time. I was aware of everything. The hairs on his chest rubbing against me. The pain inside me, though it wasn't much. I didn't have a lot of feeling there anymore. The things that had been done to me were finally starting to take their toll on my body.
The second man was gentle and I hated that more. It was like they thought it would seem less like rape if they were nice about it. At least the men who were rough behaved like they knew what they were doing and had accepted it. They were animals, but the other were hypocrites. I preferred the animals.
This one finished himself off and I could feel the drops of his cum splattering on my stomach. As soon as he moved, another took his place. I lost count after a while and it didn't hurt at all anymore. My body was as numb as my mind and only the rhythmic movement of my body under theirs told me that they were still going.
I saw a shadow move and then my arms were free. Little pins and needles began shooting up and down my arms as my ankles were released next. I started to sit up, ready to shower and go to sleep, but a slap across the face made me stop. I wasn't done yet.
A man stretched out on the mattress next to me and I climbed on top of him. When I felt a hand on my back, I whimpered, but leaned forward obediently. Even my desensitized body felt what happened next. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but I couldn't stop the tears. They were involuntary, the automatic reaction to being split in two, and they kept coming as one man after another took their second turn.