Oleander, p.3
Oleander, page 3
“Bathroom. She needs to clean up.”
Higgins rubbed his hands together. He was uncomfortable. Jagger couldn’t blame him. But the officer followed Jagger up the stairs.
Jagger probably should have headed for a guest bath, but so far, this evening he had done nothing he “should have” done. He was totally off script, which was why he found himself standing in the master bathroom, lowering Oleander to her feet.
She spun around while he pulled clean towels out of the closet. Her eyes were wide.
Higgins remained in the bedroom, not even stepping into the doorway.
Jagger was kind of glad. He wasn’t going to stick around much longer either. He turned on the shower and then faced her, but she was staring at the huge, whirlpool tub.
Jagger had never used it. It hadn’t even occurred to him she might prefer a bath. He flipped off the shower and passed her to reach for the nozzles on the tub instead.
She took a step back when he looked in her direction, wrapping her arms tight around her small frame. The sleeves of his jacket were hanging almost past her hands.
“What’s wrong, honey? You were staring at the bath. I thought you’d prefer the tub.” Suddenly, he recalled a detail that should have occurred to him before now. “When was the last time you had a proper bath, honey?”
She licked her lips. “I don’t know. I can’t remember,” she whispered.
He knew from Gemma that Master J had washed the women with a garden hose over a basement drain. That meant Oleander probably hadn’t had a shower in over a year either. Rinaldo Gustaf hadn’t given her free rein of the house and bathroom privileges.
Jagger was determined to give her this one thing. He felt the water. “How hot do you like it?”
She took another step back. “I’ll get your tub dirty,” she mumbled.
Jagger turned off the water and sat on the edge of the tub. “I don’t care if the tub gets dirty. It’s a tub. I want you to get in it. Can you do that for me?”
She looked at him, saying nothing before glancing back at the water. Finally, she nodded.
Jagger rose and hurried over to the shower to grab some body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. He set all three on the edge of the tub. “I’ll wait in the bedroom. Take all the time you need.”
He took two strides toward the door before she stopped him. “No. Please. Don’t leave me in here alone.”
He froze a second before facing her.
She was gripping his jacket tightly around her. “Please.”
“I can’t stay in here while you bathe, honey. It’s not appropriate.”
Her brow furrowed. “Appropriate? I don’t even know the meaning of that word anymore.”
He flinched. What she was saying probably rang true for her.
“Was it appropriate for someone to hold chloroform over my face, knock me out in my sleep, and kidnap me? Was it appropriate for me to wake up naked and alone in a cold, dark basement in a cage? Was it appropriate that I spent the next year being trained as a sex slave for a man who intended to buy me and use my body?” Her voice cracked and rose higher.
Higgins showed up in the doorway, but he didn’t come in. He didn’t say anything either.
“No, honey. None of that was okay,” Jagger responded. He couldn’t keep from fisting his hands at his sides. He wanted to strangle someone. “But I’m not in the sex-slave business. I’m one of the good guys. I can’t stay in the room while you take a bath. My boss would fire me on the spot.”
She glanced at the tub and then back at him. “Fine. I don’t need a bath.”
Jagger sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.
Higgins disappeared for a moment and returned with a chair. He set it in the doorway facing out, one brow lifted.
Jagger nodded. Good idea. He pointed at the chair. “I’ll sit right there. I won’t shut the door. But you have to promise to wash yourself, rinse the soap off, empty the tub, and refill it. I want you to soak in warm water.”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Jagger nearly groaned. He’d issued orders, and she’d responded. He needed to stop doing that. She wasn’t his. She wasn’t a submissive from Roses and Thorns. She was a scared woman who needed someone to trust.
He rushed over to the chair and sat in it, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and rub his temples again. This was the most bizarre night of his life.
Higgins was standing by the door to the bedroom now, and once Jagger took his seat, Higgins leaned against the frame. He didn’t need to say a word for Jagger to read his expression. Both of them were worried about the backlash they would get from this. But this was exactly why Jagger had asked Higgins to stay. He hadn’t wanted to be left alone and end up in a compromising position with a battered woman.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the water splash, indicating she’d gotten in. No one spoke for a long time. The only sound was water occasionally splashing, and then the sound of it running down the drain before Oleander turned the spout back on to refill it.
“There’s a button on the side you can push to turn on the jets,” he informed her.
A few minutes later, she turned the water off and started the jets.
Jagger’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. There was a text from Damon indicating they were at the front door. Damon had his own code for the front gate, but he couldn’t get into the house without Jagger opening the door.
Jagger glanced at Higgins. “Two people are at the front door. Will you let them in?”
Higgins nodded, turned, and took off as if he’d just been given a lifeline.
“Jagger?” The voice behind him sounded nervous.
“You okay, honey?”
“I’m nervous.”
He glanced over his shoulder without thinking, relieved to find her buried under bubbles from the jets. “You’re going to get through this.”
She turned off the jets. The only noise in the room was the sound of popping bubbles. Jagger didn’t move. He could only see her face, but damn she was pretty. Much better now without blood in her hair and smudged all over her cheeks.
“I’ll shut the door so you can get out and dry off. Gemma just got here. She brought you clothes. I’ll have her bring them up.”
Oleander’s eyes went wide, and she sat upright, splashing water over the edge of the tub. She grabbed the sides. “No. Please don’t go.”
Her chest was heaving, and Jesus… He had to jerk his gaze toward the bedroom. He’d already seen her breasts, but seeing her huddled in the dark corner of the library of her prison didn’t compare to seeing her sitting in his bathtub with water sluicing down her pert breasts. He’d never be able to erase her pink little nipples from his mind now. Fuck.
How old was she? Her body was fucking perfection. Every inch of it. Which was why she’d been kidnapped in the first place. All six of the women would undoubtedly be stunning.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered.
He flinched. “You have nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m just trying to be respectful here. Can you let the water out and wrap up in that towel on the counter?”
“Kalinda.”
He frowned, fighting the urge to glance at her yet again.
“That’s my name,” she murmured. “Kalinda.”
He drew in a breath and smiled. “I love that name. It’s very pretty.”
He heard the water draining for a second time, followed by the slosh as she rose to standing.
Finally, she spoke again. “I’m covered, Sir.”
Jagger rose and moved the chair out of the way. “You don’t need to call me, Sir, Kalinda. I’m not your Dom.”
She nodded. “Habit.”
He stared at her again. It was difficult to look away. She was short enough that the towel covered her to her knees. Still, she was stunning. Her blond hair hung in long wet ringlets. Her pale skin was pinkened from the warm water.
“Thank you. I feel much better.”
Footsteps preceded voices heading toward them.
Jagger turned toward the entrance to his bedroom to find Damon and Gemma entering. Damon had a firm grip on Gemma’s hand, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as they stepped inside as if he were trying to hold her back.
She looked anxious. Wide-eyed and fidgety. “Are you sure it’s her?” she asked softly.
Kalinda stepped up next to Jagger in the doorway, gripping the towel around her chest.
Gemma gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. Tears started falling. “It’s really you.”
Kalinda nodded. “I never thought I’d see any of you again.”
Damon had a bag slung over his shoulder, and he lowered it to the floor without releasing Gemma. He kissed her temple. “Take a breath, baby.”
Gemma drew in a lungful of air. “I brought you some clothes.”
“Thank you.” Kalinda stepped closer to Jagger, putting herself slightly behind him.
He wasn’t sure what to make of her stance. It worried him that she saw him as her savior or something.
Gemma tipped her head back to look at Damon. “I’m okay. I promise.”
He frowned but released her.
She picked up the bag and carried it to the bed. “It will feel weird at first. Wearing clothes. Took me a while to get used to it,” she said as she opened the bag and removed a pile of clothes.
Jagger winced. He’d known what Gemma had gone through when Damon had first found her. She’d hated clothing. She still had an aversion to tags and anything itchy.
Kalinda was trembling, and she wrapped her arm around his.
Jagger tried to lift his arm and extricate himself from her death grip, but she held on tighter.
When he glanced at Damon, he found his friend’s brows lifted in question.
Yeah, I have the same questions as you. Don’t look at me like that.
Did Damon fucking smirk?
Jagger inched toward the bed, Kalinda clinging to him the entire time.
Gemma turned around to hold up a few things. “Can I help you get dressed?” she asked gently.
Kalinda’s nails dug into Jagger’s arm even through his shirt. “I think I can manage,” she responded.
Jagger turned to face her. “Damon and I will step out of the room. We won’t even close the door.”
She flushed, shaking again. Her lip was trembling. “Is there something wrong with me?”
Jagger’s eyes shot wide. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t like to look at me.” She jerked her gaze to the floor.
He groaned. “That is not true. It’s just not appropriate. You’re confused. You’ve been through hell. I’m trying to be professional. I’m an FBI agent. I need to ask you questions. My boss will, too. I need you to be dressed, honey.”
Jagger winced internally as that pet name slid out of his mouth in front of Damon and Gemma. It didn’t mean anything. He’d simply started calling her that to avoid the poisonous flower name she’d been given as a slave.
Damon must have communicated silently with Gemma because the two of them quickly fled the room and shut the door.
Jagger tipped his head back and groaned as he faced Kalinda and wrapped his hands around her biceps. When he thought he had his emotions under control, he lowered his gaze.
“You said you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”
“I won’t. I promise.” He meant every word.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’m only going to be in the hallway.”
She jerked her gaze around the room. “There are windows. Closets. Too many doors. Someone could be hiding in them or come in through the window.”
Jagger hated how scared she was. So frightened that her fear was irrational. It was well-founded though. He understood that part. It was a wonder she wasn’t still sitting in that corner, rocking and catatonic.
If he left her, she might go inside her head and do exactly that. His boss would be here any moment. If Malinsky thought for one second that Kalinda needed psychiatric help, she would order it done, and that would be the end of it. Jagger wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. He would also look like a fucking idiot arguing his case.
The easiest thing to do right now would be to help Kalinda get dressed and get out of this room before Malinsky arrived.
Jagger sat on the edge of the bed so his face would be lower and more in line with hers. He slid his hands to her shoulders and stroked her skin. Inappropriately. “You should be in a hospital, Kalinda.”
She stiffened and shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. “No. Please. He’ll find me there.”
He cupped her face with one hand. “Look at me, honey. I wasn’t finished.”
She trembled so badly it was a wonder she was able to remain upright. The tears wouldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure she knew they were trailing down her cheeks.
“I need you to work with me here. I shouldn’t have brought you to my house. I should’ve taken you to the hospital or the police station. I made a rash decision. But we’re here now, and I’m inclined to agree with you that you’re not safe.” This woman was tugging at his heart strings.
“I can’t promise my boss is going to let you stay here. She’s not pleased with my detour. It wasn’t professional. We aren’t permitted to get personal with a subject, but this case was already personal from the moment Damon rescued Gemma. I know more about it than just about anyone. I want to help you.” He lowered his head a bit to make sure she was paying close attention.
“Okay.” She nodded eagerly. “So, you won’t leave? You won’t make me go to the hospital?”
“I’ll do my best to argue my case. In exchange, I need to know you’re stable enough to make wise decisions. That means I need you to put clothes on, go downstairs with me, and answer questions. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” She nodded again, standing taller with more certainty. “I’ll do it. I can do it.”
Jagger gritted his teeth when she stepped to one side of him, yanked the towel off, and handed it to him before picking up a thick white sweater and pulling it over her head.
At least she was covered. It reached past her bottom. She rummaged through the pile, found panties, and put them on next. Black leggings followed. White socks next.
She hadn’t put on a bra, but he could live with this. At least she was fucking covered now. Not without him getting far too many glances in of the rest of her body, but this was an improvement.
Her hair was no longer dripping. It was starting to dry. Curls framed her face and danced along her shoulders and down her back. Jagger had the urge to sit her down so he could comb through the tangles, but that was absurd, so he chased the visual away and tucked a lock behind her ear.
“We’ll deal with your hair later, okay?” Why did he have to go and ask that question? Jesus.
“Yes.” She stood stronger. “I’m ready. Just don’t…leave me.”
“Deal.” He prayed he could hold his end of this bargain. There was a solid chance Malinsky would lose her shit and insist on taking Kalinda to a more appropriate location. He could think of at least a dozen places that would be more appropriate than leaving her here in his home.
He nearly groaned as he realized Malinsky was not going to permit that in a million years. And what the fuck was Jagger going to do with Kalinda anyway? He wasn’t trained to handle what she was going through. He needed to be on the trail of her buyer, not babysitting.
The thought of letting someone else protect her though made bile rise in his throat. No fucking chance in hell. He’d given her his word. He intended to keep it.
Chapter Four
Kalinda stared at Jagger’s couch where everyone expected her to sit. She rubbed her hands together, trying to convince herself it was okay.
Ever since she’d entered the room, she’d been overwhelmed. Higgins had left, but a stern FBI agent named Diane Malinsky had arrived, as well as the man Jagger had told her was an FBI informant, Damon, and Marigold.
Gemma. Kalinda repeated the name several times in her head, trying to remember it. She’d only known the dark-haired woman as Marigold. Master J had forbidden the girls from talking to each other, and they hadn’t dared take a chance and share personal information.
It was surreal seeing someone else who’d been in captivity with her. It was difficult to meet her gaze. It was difficult to meet anyone’s gaze after months of being punished any time she’d lifted her head.
Damon kept a hand on Gemma’s arm, making Kalinda wonder what their story was. Were they a couple? That was confusing.
The female agent was sitting in an armchair. “I know you’re probably exhausted, Kalinda, but I need to ask you some questions. It’s important that we act fast.”
Gemma wiggled free of Damon and came to Kalinda. She glanced at Diane. “Give her a second.”
Diane nodded. “Of course.” The woman’s brow was furrowed. She was frustrated, but based on what Jagger had told Kalinda in the bedroom, Kalinda assumed Diane was not pleased with Jagger.
Gemma clasped Kalinda’s hands. “It’s hard to sit on furniture.”
Kalinda nodded on a sigh. Gemma understood.
“I struggled at first. It’s even weirder sleeping on a bed. It’s too soft. Too warm.” She smiled.
Kalinda appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood.
“Clothes, too. They still make me itch. The tags are the worst. Damon cuts them out of my clothes.”
Kalinda glanced at Damon. “Are you with him?” She didn’t know how to ask the question.
“Yes. I knew him before I was kidnapped. He spent three years looking for me. He’s my rock.” She squeezed Kalinda’s hands.
Kalinda was glad for this woman. They weren’t exactly friends. They barely knew each other. They hadn’t swapped stories about their lives. Kalinda knew nothing about Gemma and vice versa. But they had a shared experience that would make most people shudder, and it was nice having Gemma in the room.
“You’re not a slave. It took me a long time to internalize that. You might have to repeat it over and over in your head. Eventually, you’ll believe it and create a new normal.”
