Sold into Slavery (7 page)

Though the circumstance was surreal in the extreme, Leah felt, for the first time since the nightmare had begun in the jewelry shop, a little of the fear lift from her heart. The pure, innocent, doggy happiness of the animals cavorting around her actually made her smile beneath the leather mask.

Some of the dirt and sweat removed, Leah made her way around the perimeter of the high chain link fence. The top of the fence was covered in coils of barbed wire, the gate locked from the outside. She could see the ocean in the distance, and off to the left she saw a startling sight. There were half a dozen horses visible through some trees. They were frozen in place, some in mid gallop, some gazing regally toward the horizon, one rearing back on its hind legs. It took her brain a moment to process that these were not real horses, but statues sculpted from some kind of smooth white stone.

She was distracted from the curious sight by movement in her peripheral vision. Turning back toward the villa, Leah saw two men in the distance wearing coveralls, bending over flowerbeds.

They were either unaware of her or indifferent to her presence. Briefly Leah considered trying to attract their attention, but thought better of it. No doubt she’d been carried right past them and they hadn't lifted a finger in her defense. They were probably well-paid to do their jobs and keep their mouths shut.

The sun was higher in the sky now, the air humid. Leah was bone-weary. She looked around the fenced-in pen, her eyes resting on the trampoline where several of the dogs had already settled down for their morning nap. Would they let a human join them?

Tentatively, Leah made her way to the trampoline and sat cautiously on the edge. The dogs already there lifted their heads, but made no move or growl to warn her away. Two more dogs climbed aboard and moved in circles over the canvas, finally settling. Leah inched herself fully onto the trampoline. She sat between two of the dogs, stroking their heads. One of them, a pit bull with a perennial doggy grin, lifted his head and lay it down on her bare thigh, closing his eyes in apparent ecstasy as she scratched him behind the ears.

Leah didn’t want to lie down amidst the animals, aware from growing up with two dogs that it was better to keep her height advantage so they would continue to regard her as the alpha. So instead she scooted between the animals until her back was against the fence. She leaned carefully against the chain links, her skin still raw from the whipping. Drawing her knees up, she rested her head against them, wrapping her arms around her legs. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least she was out in the fresh air, and the dogs were far friendlier than anyone else she had encountered in this nightmarish establishment.

Closing her eyes, somehow she slept.

Chapter 5

Leah awoke with a start as the dogs leaped suddenly from the trampoline, barking excitedly. A man she hadn't seen before entered the kennel with two large buckets in his hands. The dogs raced to the empty food bowls, tails wagging furiously.

The man moved toward the bowls, pushing through the excited canine throng. All at once he noticed Leah, who was huddled on the trampoline, adrenaline pumping through her limbs, though she remained still as a cornered animal.

He looked startled at first. Embarrassment and pity moved over his features, and the tight fear that had gripped Leah’s heart at his appearance eased somewhat. He said something to her in Thai, his tone sympathetic, though she didn’t understand a word. She, of course, couldn’t reply, muzzled as she was by the leather harness. Shaking his head, the man turned away, focusing on his task of feeding the animals. When he was done, the dogs eagerly and noisily wolfing down their breakfasts, he turned to her again, shaking his head, sympathy etched in his features. This time she recognized two of his words from her travel guide knowledge of Thai. They were spoken softly.

“I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t so sorry that he did anything to help her, however. Turning his back, he left the yard, locking the gate behind him.

Perhaps an hour had passed. Leah was sitting on the edge of the trampoline, several dogs once again curled contentedly around her. All at once, the dogs lifted their heads, looking toward the gate. Several of them leaped from the bed and raced toward the fence, barking excitedly. Lean saw the two guards who had beaten and then dumped her in the kennel approaching.

She stiffened, her heart jumpstarting into a pounding beat as she watched them unlock the gate and enter the kennel. The German Shepherd had remained with Leah. Perhaps sensing her anxiety, the dog growled softly as the men came near.

“Come,” the shorter of the two men said, gesturing toward Leah.

Leah slid from the low trampoline and stood, wrapping her arms around her bare torso. She was almost sorry to leave the dogs—at least she’d been safe among them. And who knew what new horror awaited her?

~*~

Devin approached the front desk. The woman behind the check-in counter looked up. “Yes, sir?” She smiled pleasantly.

He’d tried to file a missing persons complaint with the police, but they’d refused to lift a bloody finger, saying it wasn’t their job to keep tabs on tourists who went missing for a few hours, and blandly suggesting he check back in the morning if she still hadn't appeared. He’d spent a nearly sleepless night pacing his hotel room, calling her mobile repeatedly, with no results.

He must have finally fallen asleep at some point, because he awoke to the sound of the alarm blaring at seven. After a quick shower to wake himself, he rushed down to the lobby, this time determined to get results.

“I need to connect with one of the guests,” Devin said firmly. “Her name is Leah Jacobs. She is checked in to room 232 but I’m afraid she might be missing. Please call the room for me at once.” He’d already decided to insist they take him up to the room and open the door, so he could see for himself she wasn’t in there. He drummed the counter anxiously while he waited for the woman behind the counter to pull up the information on her computer.

After a moment she looked up with the ubiquitous Thai polite smile. “I’m sorry. We have no one by that name registered at the hotel.”

“What?” Devin frowned, his stomach clutching. “She was here as of yesterday. I’m certain of it. Look again. It’s Jacobs. Leah Jacobs.” He spelled the name, trying to keep his patience in check.

The woman tapped again on her keyboard, staring at her monitor. “That is correct, sir. She checked out yesterday morning.”

“No, she didn’t,” Devin contradicted. “Her group isn’t scheduled to leave until today. You’ve made a mistake.”

“Excuse me, is there a problem?” A Thai man dressed in a shiny silk suit, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, appeared beside Devin. The gold metal tag pinned over his breast pocket read
Concierge.

“Yes. There’s a group of Americans traveling together. Leah Jacobs, a part of the group, is staying in room 232. Ms.—” Devin glanced at the woman’s name tag, hoping he was pronouncing it correctly, “
Jetirawat is
telling me she checked out.”

“Ah, yes. I know the lady. Blond hair, blue eyes, early twenties. She checked out yesterday morning. I personally handled her checkout. She was heading on to…” The man squinted at the ceiling, as if trying to recall a conversation. “Ah, yes. She told me she was heading to Bangkok.”

Devin shook his head. What the hell was going on here?”Look, I was with the lady yesterday morning. We made plans to meet again last night. There is no way she checked out. You’re just plain wrong.” Devin realized he was clenching his fists. His heart felt as if someone were squeezing it.

The concierge offered a bland, sympathetic smile. “Ah, pretty girl, so young, eh? These Americans, they do what they like.” His smile curved into something more knowing, his eyebrows lifting with supposed understanding. Devin wanted to sock him in the jaw. “Forget about that silly American girl,” the man continued. “There are so many lovely ladies here in Pattaya for you to choose from. I can recommend some excellent clubs—“

“There was nothing silly about her,” Devin snapped, furious at the man’s presumption and rudeness.“And I’m not interested in random young women. I’m looking for Leah Jacobs. Don’t you understand? She might in trouble. How dare you talk to me like that!”

The concierge shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I beg your pardon if I offended, but what can I tell you, sir? The girl is gone. Long gone.”

~*~

The men flanked her on either side, each taking hold of an upper arm as they propelled her from the kennel. She was desperately thirsty and would have begged the men for water if she hadn't been gagged.

They led her back into the large house, though this time, instead of taking her back into the main room, they took her up a narrow staircase just inside the back door. When they reached the top of the stairs, Leah was terrified she was going to be beaten again and thrust into another cupboard, but instead she was led into a large, sumptuous bathroom.

The floors and walls were tiled in white marble shot through with strands of silver, gold and green. There was a huge sunken tub that took up one side of the room. It was filled with water, a fragrant steam rising from the surface. Leah’s skin, covered in dirt, dried sweat and dog hair, itched with longing.

She was directed to a toilet set discreetly behind a screen. She sat, embarrassed to go in front of these thugs, but aware she’d better seize the opportunity. When she was done, they led her back into the main bathroom.

“Kneel.” The taller man pointed to a thick bath rug beside the tub and Leah sank gratefully to her feet on the soft pile, staring longingly at the bath. To her relieved delight, the man unlocked and unbuckled the leather harness, removing it from her head.

Leah touched her jaw, which was wet with sweat and aching with disuse. She opened her mouth carefully, reveling in the freedom to do so after so many hours.

“Drink.” The guard handed her a glass of water. Leah took the glass and gratefully drained it.

“Get into the tub, filthy girl. Alex will take care of you.” The shorter guard was pointing to the bathtub. If she was filthy, he and his thug partner were certainly to blame, but Leah held her tongue. Gingerly she climbed into the water. It was hot, but not too hot, and moved like silky heaven over her skin as she lowered herself down.

The taller man went to a counter and lifted a small brass bell. Its tinkle echoed against the marble walls and within a few seconds a tall solid-looking man with long, lank brown hair pulled back into a ponytail entered the room. Leah presumed this was the Alex the guard had referred to. He was wearing a dark blue robe that resembled a kimono, his feet bare. He wore what looked to Leah like a slave collar made of silver metal around his neck, a large O ring at its center. There were matching cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

The guard who had rung the bell pointed toward Leah. “She’s to have a full grooming. She is to be presented to the harem steward for inspection.”

Harem steward! Did harems actually still exist? Weren’t they the province of the Middle East, not the Far East? But then, Khalil was almost certainly an Arab, or at least of Arabian descent. Thailand might be his home base, but she could only guess how far this sex slave trafficking web she’d fallen into reached.

These thoughts flitted through Leah’s rational mind at lightning speed, but were quickly edged out by raw emotion, the top one being fear.

Alex nodded calmly and knelt gracefully beside the tub, his movements somehow feminine. Lifting a tube from the side of the tub, he squeezed a dollop of what looked like shampoo into his hand. “I will wash your hair,” he informed her. His voice, too, was feminine, both in tone and quality. His large brown eyes reminded Leah of a deer and his beard, if he even shaved at all, was very light.

Leah would much rather have washed her own hair but she didn’t protest, the memory of the beatings at the hands of the men now standing guard far too fresh in her mind. Instead, she dunked her head back into the fragrant water, closing her eyes with pleasure as it sluiced over her.

When she lifted her head, Alex leaned over her and rubbed the shampoo into her scalp. The shorter guard brought over a large pitcher and stood waiting. Alex massaged her scalp gently as he shampooed the tangled mess of her hair.

Looking up, he nodded toward the guard holding the pitcher, who poured fresh warm water over Leah’s head. They repeated the process. Alex then selected a washcloth from a pile that rested on the wide rim of the huge tub. Using a bar of sweetly scented soap, he washed every inch of Leah’s body. Unlike the stoic, masklike faces of the guards, Alex smiled in a rather absent way as he cleaned her body. Leah had the odd feeling of being bathed by a kindly but disinterested grandmother. 

She regarded the man surreptitiously as he worked, noting his chubby, beardless face, pudgy fingers and feminine gestures, and suddenly realized what she was seeing. This man was a eunuch!

Leah, familiar with Muslim and Turkish history, recalled that eunuchs were employed in a sultan’s harem to keep the ladies in line, while harboring no sexual desires of their own, or at least no ability to act on them. She had no idea such a barbaric practice as castration still existed, but then, she’d had no idea harems still existed either.

The experience of being bathed by this castrated man while the guards stood by was strange in the extreme. When Alex was done, he nodded toward the taller guard.

“Get out,” the guard ordered Leah. Turning to Alex, he added, “Do a good job. If the steward finds her worthy, she will be presented once again to the Master.” Leah imagined she could actually hear the capital M in the way he said the word.

What if she was found unworthy? Would they kill her outright? More likely they’d put her to work as a prostitute, in conditions far worse than this luxurious marbled bathroom hinted at.

Having little choice, Leah stepped out of the tub and stood passively as Alex toweled her dry. The guards then led her to a sink, directing her to stand beside it with her legs shoulder-width apart, her arms extended over her head. Soft cuffs that closed with Velcro were secured around her wrists and clipped to chains hanging from a fixture in the ceiling.