The Missionary by Jack Wilder Read Free Book Online

about that, but then, they all did too, their first time.” He grinned, remembering the way Benny had teased him, only to reveal later that he’d done the same thing.
    “What do you do when you’re afraid? How do you deal with it?”  
    Stone shrugged. “Well, for us, spec-ops guys, I mean, you’re trained to deal with it. Basic training teaches you to keep going no matter what. BUD/S training takes it that much farther. We learn to let the fear have its way, but not stop us. Fear keeps you alert. It keeps you alive. If you’re afraid, you’re still fighting to stay alive. When you stop feeling fear, you’ve stopped caring whether you live or die. And that’s when you make mistakes.” They were taxiing across the tarmac, and Stone was rambling in order to keep the memories of Manila at bay. “You just do what you have to do.”
    “What’s the most afraid you’ve ever been?”
    Stone looked at her. “You really want to know what happened, don’t you?”
    Wren wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Am I making you mad?”
    “No, not mad. I just…I don’t want you to…look, it’s not a pleasant thing. You’re a sweet, innocent girl. You don’t really understand what you’re asking about.”
    “We’re back to that, are we?” Wren said, sounding irritated. “I’m not as innocent as you think. And I want to know because I want to know you. I want you to trust me. I want…I want you to think of me as more than just a ‘sweet, innocent girl.’”
    Stone groaned. “Wren, that’s not a good idea. Not with me.”  
    She stared at him, clearly angry again. The flight attendant announced the gate information, local time, the usual post-landing welcoming spiel. When the doors were opened, Wren lurched out of her seat, grabbed her carry-on from the overhead compartment and stormed off the plane, losing herself in the cluster of disembarking students. Stone let her go, hating the glimmer of tears he’d seen in her eyes.
    Once off the plane and through baggage claim, he felt the wave of heat and humidity roll over him. The sun was high and hot, the sky the bluest blue. The smell came next, the familiar burn of Manila.  
    His stomach roiled, the churning of buried fear, the knowledge of approaching danger.

5
    ~ Now ~

    She had to fight it. It was coming, it was going to happen, and soon. She’d rather die than endure that. As he clomped down the creaking wooden steps, Wren realized with a bolt of horrified awareness, that she very literally would rather die than let him—or anyone else—rape her.  
    He knelt in front of her, a cruel smile on his lips. “I got prends come to see you. Pretty American girl, not look like no American girl. Dese prends, dey come see. Maybe, dey want try you. Yes? I make a good deal.” He grabbed her upper lip and twisted it so hard she couldn’t stop the yelp of pain and the start of tears. “You keep shut up, I don’t let them try you before buy you. You like dat? No, I don’t tink so. You keep shut your stupid mout, dey look, dey touch, but dey not gonna fuck you.” He hissed the vile, vulgar word, spitting vitriol, making the ‘f’ sound almost a ‘p’, but not quite: ppffuck.
    He smacked her none-too-gently, hard enough to make her ears ring and the cross around her neck swing free and dangle in the darkness. Then he left.
    And that was when Wren understood, fully, that he wasn’t just an opportunistic animal. He’d hit her, but he hadn’t damaged her. He’d forced drugs on her, but he hadn’t raped her, or let anyone else do so. He was saving her, keeping her intact. Keeping a product in prime condition so he could reap a maximum profit.  
    Wren was young and sheltered, and she knew she was naive in some ways, especially when it came to men, but she was far from stupid. She wasn’t a virgin, but the few experiences she’d had only served to emphasize how awful things were going to get.
    Unless a miracle happened. Unless someone saved her.  
    Someone like