Polar Opposites (In Aeternum Book 4) (13 page)

Bailey searched through the laundry until she found more suitable attire for the girl, some for Theodore and a blanket. Then she returned.

“Here, put these on. We have to stay here for a while. In the dark. You can’t be afraid.”

“I am not afraid.”

“Good. Here’s a blanket so you don’t get cold while you sleep.”

Bailey was slightly shocked when the girl did so without complaint or comment. Before the first people arrived, she transferred a still-out Theodore and the girl to a large laundry hamper before slipping on the uniform. She kept her head down, her long hair shoved up under her cap, and wheeled them out into the back of the waiting truck.

She saw some of the men tasked with watching over Theodore out back. They hardly glanced at her, the movement of the laundry service familiar.

Once she was in traffic and positive no one was following her, she pulled into a parking lot. Hopping out, she went to the back and opened it. Stripping off the uniform, she unburied the girl first then Theodore. He remained unconscious.

I don’t need him waking up yet. Not until I get this child somewhere away from him.

She held out her hand to the child once she’d adjusted the man on her shoulder. Bailey got him to the van she’d left there the day before. She tossed him in the back and locked it before helping…

“What
is
your name?”

“Safa.”

Cruel irony for a child to be named something that means innocent and her having to have gone through what she has.

“Let’s get you some food and to somewhere safe.”

In the van and driving through the streets of Cairo, Bailey withdrew her phone. She glanced over at the child riding shotgun beside her, face drawn and tired.

“Bailey Hyde, what are you doing calling?”

“Salihah, I need help.”

“Anything.”

Salihah worked for Theta Corps as well and lived in Cairo. She had been taking a chance expecting her to be there but with the girl, she’d not had a choice.

“Are you in Cairo?”

“Yes.” A slight pause. “Are you?”

“I am. I have a girl here who needs help. I can’t take her with me to the US but I found her being used as a whore. She’s not older than twelve, if even that. I need you to take her and do what’s necessary to make sure she doesn’t ever have to go back to that life.”

“Meet me at the Great Pyramid of Giza.”

“Thanks.” She disconnected the call.

Bailey headed that way, stopping to get some food for the child. As Safa ate, Bailey leaned against the hood of the van, staring out at the pyramid.
Damn, that thing is impressive.

“Hey, stranger.”

Bailey turned to see Salihah striding up, her thick black hair drawn back in a ponytail.

She smiled and hugged her friend. “Thanks for coming.”

“What’s going on?”

“Long story but I found her”—she jerked her head in Safa’s direction—“being used as a whore. Her father sends her there.”

Salihah muttered some words that Bailey agreed with wholeheartedly. “What do you want me to do with her?”

Bailey shrugged. “I hadn’t thought that far, just asked her if she’d like to leave. I don’t have a passport for her and I’m on a time crunch. She needs to be somewhere where she can have a childhood.” She beckoned to Safa. “I want her with people who will do that.”

“I can arrange that for you. I’ll get her out of Egypt.”

“Thanks, Salihah.” She faced Safa. “This is Salihah. She will get you somewhere safe. Where you can run and play with other kids. It won’t be here in Egypt. But you will be loved and well cared for.”

Safa ducked her head before nodding. “But not with you?”

“No, not with me. I can’t take you with me any farther than this. You’ll be fine, you’re strong.” Why did this suck so much? “Salihah will give you a number to reach me, any time day or night. Okay? You need me, you call. I will find a way to get to you, no matter what.”

Those damn eyes ripped into her, all the way to her soul. “Thank you,” Safa said, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for saving me.”

Bailey met Salihah’s gaze and saw understanding in her friend’s expression. “You’d better go.” She unwrapped thin arms from her neck. “Goodbye, Safa.” Bailey also hugged and said farewell to Salihah.

The child stuck her hand in Salihah’s and waved before they walked off and climbed in a Mercedes. Bailey stood there until the vehicle had disappeared from her sight. Ignoring the pain in her gut, she climbed into her van and got on her own way. She still had a job to complete. And it had to do with the man who still lay unconscious in the back of the van.

* * * *

Bailey stared at the man seated in the wheelchair before her. Theodore Ramsey. He sat there, glaring at her, hatred pouring from his blue eyes.

“I don’t want any shit from you, I had a hell of a time getting your ass out of that brothel and I’m not one who likes getting people. Not alive, anyway. So, you and I are going to the airline. You will sit there and be good.”

He shook his head and muttered behind the swath of duct tape she had over his mouth.

She smiled at him. “See, you’re under the impression I was asking you if you’d be good.” Her smile vanished. “I wasn’t. I’m telling you.” Bailey held up a small vial and shook it. “You see, what we have in here is yellow jasmine juice. I won’t bore you with the details on how I got it here, or how I put it back to this form from how I received it. Point is, it’s poisonous. I could kill you within ten minutes if I gave you a high enough dose. Problem is, I am under orders to get you back to the States alive. So, can’t kill you.”

His expression paled and his eyes widened more.

“But, I will use enough to drug you. Make you weak, have languor. Slow your cardiac rate, drooping eyelids and more. Enough that you won’t be able to argue or make a sound because it also brings with it a loss of articulation.”

She showed him a plastic spoon and poured the contents from her tiny vial in there. He gasped when she ripped off his tape and used the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth. The tape went back on so he couldn’t spit it out.

“You’re glaring like you’re refusing to swallow. It doesn’t matter, it’s working already. You may as well give in so I can enjoy the flight.”

Once it had taken effect, she untied him, pushed him out to the street, and hailed a taxi. She kept a close eye on him through the airport to their gate. Because he was in a wheelchair, they got to board early and she put him in the seat by the window before settling herself in. It was going to be a long flight back to the US.

Chapter Ten

Another late night. Ivan stumbled to his apartment a few minutes before the witching hour. As usual, he hadn’t eaten anything since early in the morning and he was hungry. His plan was food then bed. He even had the day off tomorrow—or was that now today—and he intended on doing nothing but sleeping.

He reheated some leftovers and ate standing over the sink, unsure whether if he sat he would remain awake. This wasn’t the most comfortable way he could enjoy a meal but, currently, it was the smartest.

Death by borscht.
He snorted and shook his head.
I must be exhausted if this is what my sense of humor has amounted to.

Ivan placed his dish and silverware in the sink. Turning off lights as he went, he made his way to his bedroom and stripped nude. After taking care of his nightly ritual, he dragged his tired body back to his bed and flopped forward, groaning as the soft mattress surrounded him. He closed his eyes and nothing else mattered.

* * * *

It wasn’t the phone this time that woke him—it was the pounding on the door. The task of opening his eyelids was such it took him a few tries before he managed to be successful.

I am going to kill whoever is at my door if the place isn’t on fire. Why do they only knock when I’m trying my best to be comatose?

With a huge lurch, he got out of bed and rooted for a pair of sweats to pull on. Once those were in place, he slowly made his way to the door and opened it.

“What?” he snapped, eyes shut as he rubbed them.

“I’m sorry, were you busy?”

That voice. He dropped his arm and opened his eyes to spy Bailey standing there, holding a bag and a tray with two coffees in it.

“Bailey?” He blinked a few times, partially wondering if this was yet another cruel dream where he would wake up alone.

“Ivan.”

“God, woman, I missed you.”

He cupped her face and kissed her. Her tongue met his and they tangled as he tried to get closer.

She drew back. “Hot beverages here.”

Ivan pulled her into his place and shoved the door shut behind her. Taking the drinks from her, he placed them on his counter as, in his periphery, he watched her do the same with the bag.

This time when he reached for her, she met him halfway. Their lips connected and he moaned at the taste of her, once again sliding along his tongue, seeping into him. He dragged his hands down her back to her hips, holding her close. His cock, rock hard, dug into her.

He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within her. Again, she moved away.

“I woke you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t care,” he uttered.

“No. You were sleeping. Go back to sleep.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Bailey. You want me to go back to sleep?”

She took two more steps back and began unbuttoning her green shirt. “I could go for some shut-eye myself.”

He was mesmerized by the dark skin that was exposed each time she undid another button. She tugged her hem free from her white jean shorts and kept on until her shirt hung open and he could see her black bra.

Ivan grabbed himself through the sweats, outlining his cock. “You think I can sleep with this?”

The tip of her tongue snuck out and a siren’s grin lifted her lips. “I can take care of that for you.” She approached him and sank to her knees in front of him. “That would be my pleasure.”

She leaned forward and nuzzled his dick, simultaneously moving his hand away. “My definite pleasure.”

Her words were soft but he heard them clearly.

Bailey gripped the sides of his sweats and tugged. The material fell easily and his cock sprang out, long and hard.

“Perfect,” she said, her warm breath fanning along the sensitive head.

He ground his jaw and held still as she took her time. Her tongue dabbed out and licked along the shaft, as if she were tasting ice cream, or a lollipop. Fast licks. Slow ones. Some with the flat of her tongue and others with just the tip.

Ivan was ready to come already and she hadn’t even taken him in her mouth. Her hands, she kept on his thighs as she inched closer to him. He stared down at her—she wasn’t focused on anything other than his cock.

Her right hand curved around the shaft and he groaned. She moved it while her tongue continued to shower attention upon the large head. She swiped it along the rim and underneath, all the while working her hand, alternating the pressure she used.

Just when he thought he had himself under a bit more control, she opened her mouth and drew him in.

“Fuck!”

She bobbed her head taking in more and more with each move. He closed his eyes and locked his knees when she played with his balls as well. The touch, the pressure and the knowledge it was her catapulted him along a fast track to coming.

Bailey began circling his dick with her tongue while she continued to work his length. He squirmed when she flicked her tongue over the ridge between the shaft and the head.

“Bailey,” he called out.

She didn’t respond in any way other than what she was doing. Pleasuring him. Her moans and sighs spurred him on even more. She loved what she was doing and that heightened his own experience.

When she positioned one hand so she could massage his perineum, his legs shook. He couldn’t hold out much longer.

She must have known, for she tightened her lips around him and sucked without pause until he shot his cum into her throat. She swallowed it all then proceeded to lap at his cock until he reached down and lifted her off the floor.

“Christ, woman, I think you almost killed me.”

“You would have gone with a smile on your face,” she countered.

“Hell yes I would have.” He kissed her.

* * * *

Bailey still slept when he woke. He rolled to his side and stared at the woman slumbering beside him. A quick glance at the clock had it past noon. He didn’t care—he did not intend to leave his apartment for the entire day.

He couldn’t see any new scars on her and she didn’t act as though she had been injured. Bailey lay sleeping on her back, one hand beneath the pillow beside her and the other across her stomach.

“You’re staring at me.” Her voice was soft and sleepy.

“I can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”

She gave a slight chuckle. “I think you need more sleep.”

“Not going to change your beauty.” He sat at the side of the bed and looked for his sweats before recalling they were in the living room.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why are you up?”

“I was hungry. Want me to fix something for you as well?”

“Please.”

He almost missed it. The flash of concern on her face—it was there then gone so quickly, but with the intensity he’d been watching her, he’d caught it.

“What’s wrong, Bailey?”

She began to shake her head and he captured her chin.

“Don’t lie to me and say nothing. Tell me. Did your mission not go well?”

“It went. It was successful. I guess”—she sighed—“I was thinking of someone.”

“Who?”

“Safa.”

He lay back on the bed but used the headboard to prop himself up. “Who is Safa?” Ivan wanted her to open up to him, wanted her to feel she could share with him anything and everything. Deep in his soul he knew she was the one for him, no matter that they were so opposite. “Bailey?”

“A young girl I found in a whorehouse.” She sat up, using the sheet to keep her covered.

“Like, eighteen young?”