Page 35 of Rescuing Rebel
Inside the jet,I slide into the seat opposite Ally Collins. She huddles into herself, swaddled in a blanket, her fingers white-knuckled around a steaming mug of tea. A certain fragility about her triggers a protective instinct in me, but I can’t afford to let that get in the way. We need answers, and she’s the only one who can provide them.
“Ally,” I start, my voice pitched low and gentle. “You holding up okay?”
She nods, a tiny bird-like movement, her gaze darting to meet mine before skittering away. Her eyes are still wide, a wild doe trapped in the headlights.
“Good. I’ve got a few questions. Only if you’re up for it, though.”
Another nod. A shaky breath followed by a gulp of her tea.
“All right.” I clear my throat. “Do you know where they were taking you?”
“Florida.” Her eyes shift to the floor. “I-I heard them saying Fort Lauderdale.”
That’s a wide net to cast, but it’s a start.
“What else?” I ensure I give her plenty of space. I’m a big man; the last thing she needs is me looming over her. “Anything else you can remember?”
She chews on her lower lip, brow tugging together. “They said other things.” I lean in to hear her soft whisper, but she shies away.
“Words like what…?”
“Client. Pleased. An-and something about an auction?”
Auction?
That word hangs in the air like an ominous miasma. The implications are horrifying. This is officially a human trafficking case.
I grit my teeth, tasting bile creeping up the back of my throat.
“Was it just the two men?” I try to keep my voice as soft and supportive as possible, but I need to get this information out of her while it’s still raw and fresh.
“Yes, just the two of them.” She mumbles again, forcing me to lean down to hear. When her gaze meets mine, there’s steel in her eyes, an alloy forged from fear and survival. “They were assigned to my protection detail a week ago.”
“A week ago?”
Newly assigned?
I file away that fact for later. Security details have their influx of personnel. That, in and of itself, isn’t significant, but a week before her abduction?
That smells like all kinds of shit.
I suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting. Protectors turned traitors. My fists clench on instinct, knuckles whitening.
“Tell me again,” I urge her to continue, my voice taut as the silence yawns wide. “What did they do? What did they say?”
It’s not uncommon for victims to leave out important details. It’s not that they try to hide the truth; they don’t understand how the tiniest thread can often be the key to unraveling everything.
She flinches as if stung—as if I’m yelling at her or accusing her of something—but her strength returns. This young woman is strong. That resiliency will serve her well in the days to come as she recovers from this ordeal.
“They made calls, frequent ones.” Her voice drops back to a whisper.
“Any names?” I press her for the smallest detail. “Did you catch any names?”
“Only one.” Her gaze drops to the floor again. “K something. Like a cough drop.” She shrugs and looks at me.
“A cough drop?”
“That’s all I remember.”