Buying the Virgin

Chapter 113: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Twenty-Nine

CHARLOTTE

“You’re nuts. You really have no idea who you have there? Whose wife she is? She’s worth far more to

you for ransom than any third-world hustler’s going to give you.”

Now I have his attention. “What are you talking about? Who is she then?”

“That’s Beth Haswell... Elizabeth Haswell…. Richard Haswell’s wife….”

He looks at me blankly. “You know…. Richard Haswell… Billionaire…. Owns half the fucking city. And

that’s his wife you’re pawing at. He’ll pay a fortune to get her back, but he might not be so happy about

it if he thinks you’ve been fingering his property.”

He stares down at me, slit-eyed, doubt written large, but I have his attention. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Look it up. You should find photos of her on the internet easily enough. Go on; search for

images, Richard and Elizabeth Haswell.”

He jerks his head at one of the chimps in the background. “Do as she says. Look it up.”

The thug taps in on his phone, staring at the screen, gapes and then thrusts the phone at Klempner. He

looks at it, looks at Beth, comparing the two.

“Alright. She’s worth a lot. That doesn’t mean she’s not joining in the fun…”

“Haswell is a billionaire.” I drip contempt from my words. “He likes his goods pristine. If you mess with

her, he’ll probably not pay as much, or at all.”

Klempner sucks in his cheeks. “Yeah…. I’d see it like that too…. Okay. Lock her up again.” Then he

turns to me. “Now, you….”

Oh, crap….

The group of men closes in on me.

*****

BETH

The door opens, and Charlotte is all but thrown inside, landing hard on the floor. She picks herself up

slowly, rubbing her shoulder and hips, where they hit the concrete. Her face is swollen on one side,

starting to bruise.

She’s badly upset, wringing at her hands.

Her rings are gone….

“Those aren’t the clothes or the shoes, you were wearing before,” I say.

“No, they’re not.” and she won’t speak after that.

*****

The day fades, and the temperature falls. As I start to shiver in my thin blouse, Charlotte shuffles up

close to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. She rubs my arms, as though trying to warm me, Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

but then starts talking, very quietly.

“They’re taking us out of here, Beth, to the buyer they’ve got for us. We’ve only got one chance.

Between being taken out of the building, and them getting us back into that truck, we have to run.”

Nausea rises in the back of my throat. “A buyer?”

“Mmm... yes. Although I’m not sure he’s so keen to sell you, now that I’ve told him you can be

ransomed. But I don’t know. He seems hell-bent on revenge on me, and I think he’s got you wrapped

up with me in his head. Either way, we have to get away from here….”

“But where? There’s nowhere to go….”

“It doesn’t matter Beth. Trust me on this. We just have to get away. When I say, you run, as fast as you

can, with me. Now shush before they hear us.”

*****

CHARLOTTE

The door slams open, and the guard puts a tray on the floor: water, bread and what might be cheese. I

don’t fancy it much with the flies thronging around it.

“Hey, can I have my old shoes back?” I ask. “These hurt my feet.”

The guard looks at me askance.

“They’re just shoes,” I say. “Check them out if you want to. If you’re trying to sell me, it’s not going to

improve my price if I’m limping, is it?”

He looks back to where I see Klempner in the other room. He pauses, nods, and head-points the guard

at my old clothes.

The guard picks out my trainers, feeling his way carefully through them for anything that doesn’t belong

there, and finding nothing because there is nothing to find. With a grunt, he tosses them to me in our

jail and bangs the door closed again.

I sit and put on my own shoes, then, trying to be casual, pass the pair I had been wearing to Beth.

“Here, change out those court shoes. I can see from here they’re rubbing you sore, and the heels must

be killing you by now.”

She doesn’t get it and for a moment starts to demur, but I widen my eyes at her, hoping she gets the

message.

Saying nothing, she changes out of her high heeled fashion shoes. “Better bring those with you when

we go,” I say, raising my voice for the benefit of our captors. “No doubt they’ll want us both to look our

best.”

*****

Keys rattle in the lock and the door opens again.

Speaking as quietly as I can, “This is our chance, Beth. We might not get another. Pretend to be really

frightened, and do exactly as they say until….”

She nods, visibly gulping, fear raw on her face. “Pretend?” she murmurs

One of Klempner’s apes, holding a gun on us, barks, “Out….”

Making a show of eye-rolling obedience, I stand. Beth joins me, and I hold her hand as we are herded

out to the main room. The windows are dark, and I try to remember if there is a moon tonight.

Klempner grins at me, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll have our party later. I’m

looking forward to it.”

I drop my head, looking at the floor, trying to appear submissive. The worm of fear coiled in my gut tries

to unravel, but I push it firmly down. This is no time for panic. A wrong move could cost both my life and

Beth’s.

Outside, the air is sweet with rain and, although the night is chill, the forest breathes fresh around us,

the peaty scent of soil and damp leaves. Overcast, the night is a velvet deep, and the trees, a drift of

welcoming shadows.

Still holding Beth’s hand, I wait meekly, as one guard opens the back of the truck, another standing

beside us, gun held loosely, not really paying attention. Looking briefly back inside, the interior brightly

lit, all the others are doing one thing or another; packing up to leave, all distracted…. I turn quickly

away, not wanting to destroy my night vision.

With a squeeze of my hand, I give Beth a half-second forewarning, then with my free hand, sweep the

gun hand of the guard up and aside.

And, towing Beth behind me, I run….

The two guards who accompanied us out, yell an alarm, and there is shouting and cursing behind us.

“Where are we going?” gasps Beth behind me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I yell back. “Just away.”

The two are right behind us as hand-in-hand, Beth and I run helter-skelter into the night.

*****

MICHAEL

We sit, parked up by a diner, James with his eyes fixed on his laptop screen. I stare into space. He

glances up at me.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What do you imagine?”

“Well, of course, Charlotte. Something specific?”

I stare up into the car roof for a moment, caught between embarrassment, the knowledge that Richard

is seated right behind us, and the need to unload some stress.

“I was thinking about that noise she makes. You know the one, when she’s good and aroused, getting

close to coming, sort of a cross between a moan and a wail…”

His face twitches and he looks away. “Yeah… it’s a good sound isn’t it.…”

“Shall we move on? See if a different area gives us a signal?”

“Yes, I think so.”

*****