Page 59 of Savage Desires

"Say the word, and I'll get you away from him," Mauve asserts.

Willow laughs. "You should ask him if he needs help escaping me. He's in danger of losing his freedom to me, not the other way around."

I kiss her temple. "My freedom is yours, beauty," I whisper for only her to hear.

She smiles at me with such happiness that my heart skips a beat. I hope she always smiles like that at me. She kisses my cheek and turns back to the others.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, let's make a plan," she says.

It doesn't take long for us to finish telling them the details of the night of the auction. They are visibly angry when Willow tells them that none of the women sold were meant to survive the night. Mauve is practically vibrating with rage. Not that I blame her. I feel the same way. Especially knowing that my Willow could've died that night had I not been there to intervene. I pull her closer, reassuring myself that she's safe.

"Do you have a timeline for when we will move on this?" Seamus asks.

"I don't want to wait much longer. I've got the tech team pulling schematics for the buildings and looking into some leads."

I don't bring up the connection to the Russians. I know Seamus has a truce with them, and they do some business together. I trust Seamus as much as I trust any of them, but I don't want to risk him tipping our hand to the Russians. Willow obviously picked up on that because when she's talking about how Mecca's security is run and describing the typical routine for the women held there, she doesn't mention that most of the men working there are Russian. She also doesn't elaborate on the man in the mask, who is obviously in charge. She's vague with details when they ask probing questions about the men. She plays into the fact that she's a traumatized sex slave when they get too pushy, so they back off. Even though I know she's doing it intentionally to redirect, it still angers me. If she were anyone else, those reactions wouldn't be a farce to manipulate a conversation.

I'm so fucking proud that she's doing so well and isn't falling apart in this difficult situation. It doesn't stop me from wanting to wrap her up in my arms and carry her out of here. She deserves time to heal and figure out who she is outside of being a sex slave instead of being thrust into another violent situation. She says it's what she wants to do, but I'm unsure if it's right for her.

She's had so much taken from her that I won't be the one to tell her no. I won't hold her back from doing what she feels she must do. I'll do everything in my power to protect her and keep her safe while allowing her to get justice for what they did to her. I'll deal with the fallout afterward. Hopefully, it will help her move forward with her healing and not set her back. Either way, I will be right here by her side.

"We can't rush this if it's as big an operation as you say it is," Shawn comments. He's a retired SEAL who saw some of the worst of the world during his missions, and now his life's mission is to help people that the world has turned its back on.

"Rushing isn't what I want either, but we can't wait. They could already be planning to move their operation after they lost six women and a few of their guards turned up dead. I set up a different buyer to look like they conspired to betray them, but it was a flimsy cover-up. I have eyes on the mansion, and everything appears to be business as usual."

"Mecca is closed on Sundays. The building is locked down when the club closes on Saturday, usually around two in the morning. There's minimal security after that since the club is closed to the public on Sundays. They use Sundays for VIP parties, but those aren't until late in the evening. There's a large window of time that'll be perfect for infiltrating the building. The women are locked in their rooms, so they will be out of the way. Georgie is the only one who is allowed out. She's in charge of cleaning, among other things," Willow says.

"That would give us three days to plan. It's quick but doable. Can you have your people ready by then?" I ask the others.

Everyone nods their agreement.

"I'll talk to Sissy and Chante. We'll be ready. Do we know how many women we'll need transport for?"

"There were twelve women left at Mecca after we were sent to the auction, but they could've replaced us since then. Our informant for the mansion said there were twenty-three other women kept there. Not all of them will be happy to be rescued," Willow informs sadly.

"If they don't want to take advantage of Hope House, they can come work for me," Lester says.

I glare at him. I don't like him, and I hate that he makes his money on the backs of women, but they are all doing what they do by choice. He treats them well, and they are compensated fairly. He's scum but has morals.

He holds his hands up. "You know my girls are taken care of. I'll give them a job if they don't want out of the life. Better than them standing on a corner unprotected."

I grunt my agreement because as much as I hate it, he isn't wrong.

"You said some of them are used as dancers?" Davis asks.

"Yeah, they had several dancers on stage before the auction."

"I won't give a blanket invitation to hire them, but they can interview and show me what they've got. I always have room for more dancers."

"Thank you for giving them choices," Willow says.

We talk a bit longer about things and agree to meet again Friday to go over the plan for the raids. We have to be on the same page so there are no fuck ups. By the time we leave, it's after dinnertime, and Willow's stomach is growling. I feel like an ass because she hasn't eaten since breakfast. I'm already dropping the ball on taking care of her.

I make sure the warehouse is locked up, then help her into the car. She's been quiet since she thanked Davis and Lester. She meant it when she thanked them, but she doesn't like the thought of the other women not wanting to be saved. I don't blame her. I don't like it either, but it's not our decision. When the time comes, all we can do is lay out their options and let them choose.

Her stomach growls again, drawing my attention. "I need to get you fed. What sounds good? We can go out or order in if you want."

She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. I can tell when she decides what sounds good, but she quickly dismisses it and tries to come up with something else.