Finally, inspiration struck and Matthew made a call to his home office. After a brief conversation with his boss, the man had finally relented and agreed to give Matthew all the resources he would need to put his case together. He also agreed to start cutting away at the red tape between Matthew and the FIA.

Within the hour, two techs were running every picture and story associated with Balk Diamond’s, AKRAAN, Demitri Balk, Vladek Rostrovich, and Muhammad Rafiq through facial recognition software and the National Security Database. Matthew predicted something would show up sooner rather than later.

He looked at his watch. He should probably get to the hospital. He called the nurse’s desk on Olivia’s floor to make sure Sloan had left for the day and then he gathered his belongings and headed for the door.

***

Olivia was furiously writing when Matthew walked in. She seemed in better spirits than the night before. Matthew gave Sloan credit.

“What are you writing?” Matthew asked. He put down his briefcase and took a seat. The chair was far more comfortable than the one in the recreation room. Also, sitting in her hospital room had the added benefit of making her more talkative.

“Dr. Sloan gave me a journal. Pretty sweet, huh? It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, I almost forgot how much I love it,” Olivia said. She smiled.

“Not what I asked, Miss Ruiz,” Matthew replied, but there was no bite in his words.

She sighed, “I’m…you know. I just want to preserve my memories before I stop trusting them.”

Matthew really didn’t know what to say, except, “That could get subpoenaed, you know?”

She looked stricken, dropping her pen with a rattle. “Seriously? Why would you do that?”

“Never mind,” he said easily, “forget I said anything.”

She looked at him, then down at her notebook and up at him again before she raised a suspicious brow and snapped the journal shut. “I don’t forget anything you say, Reed. Only an idiot would.”

Matthew inclined his head and winced, “Thanks for the compliment.”

“What’s wrong with your neck?”

Matthew focused on not letting his embarrassment show and did a fairly good job of it in his estimation. “Hotel bed. Hurts my neck.”

“Aww, poor Agent Reed,” she teased gently.

“Funny girl, but let’s get this over with so I can go home and sleep in my own bed,” said Matthew.

She sighed, “Always business with you. Is that why Sloan’s mad at you?”

“What?” Matthew snapped. “She talked about me?”

Olivia gave him a confused look. “She asked if you were here this morning and when I said no, she seemed a little annoyed is all. You seem to bring that out in people, or just women. She didn’t want to talk about it. What’s going on with you two?” Getting even more curious, Olivia raised her eyebrows. “Did something happen between you two? Was there an FBI showdown?”

Matthew let out a breath he hadn’t realized he held. He was relieved, and felt foolish for overreacting. “A showdown? No. Has anyone ever told you you’re overdramatic?” he dismissed coolly. “Dr. Sloan’s usually more professional in keeping her focus on the case, not external distractions, whatever they may be.”

“Jeez, Reed. What the hell got up in your ass this morning?”

Matthew’s cheeks felt hot, but he forced himself to calm down before it could show. The things that could make him blush were limited, but damn it if the last few days weren’t designed to expose his weaknesses to the world.

“Just go on with your story. Please. I’m exhausted, my neck hurts, and I feel a headache coming on, so can we just get on with it?”

Olivia’s face was suddenly devoid of its light and humor. “Fine, Reed. Ask your fucking questions.”

He took a deep breath. “What did you and Sloan talk about? I’ll get her notes later, but just bring me up to speed?”

“We talked about Caleb. Nothing that would interest you, I’m sure.”

“Tell me anyway,” Matthew insisted. He tried to work up a smile to re-establish their otherwise good rapport, but by the look on Olivia’s face, it would take more than a smile.

“I had a lot of nightmares when I first got to the mansion. Sometimes about Rafiq raping Nancy. Sometimes I dreamt about Caleb selling me. Mostly though, I had nightmares about the night the bikers almost raped me. I dreamt about them beating me, stepping on my stomach and slapping my face.” She swallowed.

“I could almost feel blood pouring into my mouth. I would wake up gasping. When Caleb was there…” Livvie sighed, “He would just hold me. Caleb liked sleeping next to me, I think.

“Morning was our problem. I would lie in bed next to Caleb, watching him sleep and thinking he was so child-like when he wasn’t so obsessed with training me, or proving how much control he had over me—”

Matthew interrupted, “Was Rafiq still there?”

“No. He left a few days after I met him. He and Caleb had breakfast on the balcony. Rafiq used Nancy as a table and I don’t know how many times I had to shut my eyes because I thought Rafiq’s knife was going to go right through his steak and into Nancy. It never happened though.”

“What happened to Nancy?” Matthew asked.

“I didn’t know it until later, but Rafiq took her with him when he left. And before you ask: No, I don’t know where he went.”

“To meet the boat. Remember?”

“Right, to meet the boat,” she said.

“So where did you eat?”

“On the floor, next to Caleb. He cut things up for me and fed them to me as he ate. That’s what I’m telling you, Reed: he was good to me. I didn’t really appreciate it until I saw the way Nancy was treated. Even Kid. Celia was treated better than anyone though. Toward the end I’d sort of hoped…” She was starting to drift off.

“Hoped, what?” Matthew said in an attempt to regain her focus.

“That Caleb and I could have what they did. Felipe isn’t a great guy. He wouldn’t be involved with Rafiq if he were, but…. I don’t know, Celia loves him and Felipe seems to feel the same way. He’s pretty protective.”

“You want me to call Sloan?” Matthew asked patiently.

Her eyes drifted toward him, narrowing suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because you need a lot of therapy, Miss Ruiz. A lot.”

She shook her head at him, clearly amused by his bluntness. “Fuck you, Reed,” she said through a smile.

“Please. Continue your story…”

Chapter Twelve

When I opened my eyes and realized it was morning it took me a few minutes to orient myself. The trepidation I felt during the night was slow to fade. I didn’t remember falling asleep, only lying in bed for hours trying to think of a way out of my situation that wouldn’t later involve Caleb having to rescue me.

The room I slept in was beautiful and immaculate. Every morning the sun came spilling into the room when Celia came in to draw back the heavy curtains. I had told her I was more than capable of drawing back the curtains myself, but she simply ignored me as she went about her business of preparing the room for the day.

“She’s not allowed to speak to you,” Caleb said as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was only our second week at the mansion and he looked so tired, like he wasn’t able to rest at all. He complained he couldn’t go on sleeping in all his clothes forever. Yet, every night, he did.

Caleb was more erratic than usual during those first few weeks. Yes, he was cruel. He put me through my paces, teaching me certain phrases in Russian and what actions to take when I heard them. He insisted I crawl, call him master, and that I go through a series of humiliations meant to make me get over my shyness.

For all that, he didn’t really touch me. He kept me clothed. He protected me by not letting others near me. I knew he stayed with me at night because I had nightmares when he didn’t. He slept in his t-shirt and shorts, seemingly content to just sleep next to me and not touch me unless I woke from some horrible nightmare and huddled close to him. He soothed me.