Jenna’s Protector (Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists: CHARLIE Team #4)

4. Jenna

FOUR

Jenna

We sit in the small office, the air thick with tension. Max sits quietly at my side, his presence soothing. His ears perk up, and he watches us intently, sensing the gravity of the conversation.

“What do you want to know?”

“If you could tell me what happened to you, maybe I can find something that ties in with my case. Forest told me a little, but left a lot out more.”

“There’s not much to tell.” My voice is steadier than I feel.

“Take your time.” Carter nods, his expression one of solemn determination.

“I was seventeen, a runaway, and living on and off the streets.” I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Or rather, I bounced between living on the streets and living in an abusive home. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“Seventeen?”

“Yeah.”

“So young.”

“Not for that industry.”

“What industry?”

“A modeling agency approached me, promising fame, magazine covers, and money. So much money. They offered me housing, training, and a way to finish school. It was the answer to all my problems. At first, it was everything they said it would be—glamorous and exciting. But then things changed.”

Carter hangs on my every word, his eyes filled with empathy and understanding. Max nudges my leg gently, giving a little whine. I reach down, absently petting him, drawing comfort from him.

“The glamour slowly twisted into manipulation—then exploitation. I had no idea what I was doing, or what was happening to me. It was insidious.”

“How did they do that?”

“The grooming process was gradual but relentless. They started by building us up, telling us how beautiful we were and how we had the potential to be stars. They taught us how to walk, talk, and behave in a way that would make us irresistible to men. They called it 'charm school,' but it was really a way to break us down and mold us into their perfect playthings. We trained to be models and hostesses for private events where wealthy men would gather. It was all about making the men feel special. We were encouraged to flirt.”

“Flirt?”

“Yes. We got tips if we flirted well and were punished if it seemed as if we were unwilling to make the guests feel desired. I was young and naive, and the attention initially felt like validation.”

“Punished? What did they do?”

“Along with the grooming came threats. We were told things would happen if we didn’t behave or comply. They reminded us how easily we could be replaced. They threatened to send us back to the lives we had run away from, back to the poverty and abuse.”

“That’s horrible.” Carter’s brows pinch together.

“The threats were so ingrained that we began to believe them. We became terrified of making a mistake, of stepping out of line. The constant fear created a sense of dependence and obedience that was hard to shake.”

“What were the punishments?”

“They withheld food, gave chores… The physical abuse was subtle at first but escalated quickly. A late arrival to class meant a sh arp slap across the face. A misstep during a walkthrough resulted in being locked in a dark closet for hours. The worst was when one of the girls broke down crying during a fitting session; she was dragged out of the room and came back with bruises all over her body.”

“They physically abused you?” He starts to say something more, but thinks better of it. His lips press into a stern line.

“The staff justified these actions by saying it was all part of our 'training' to become perfect models. They claimed it built character and discipline, but it only instilled fear and compliance. We learned to hide our pain and do whatever it took to avoid their wrath.”

“They took advantage of you.”

“One of the girls, Sophia—she and I became close friends there—anyway, she was always a bit of a rebel; constantly getting into trouble. She tried to slip out once. Sophia was… promiscuous. Unlike me, she wasn’t a virgin. She told me she wanted to get some. None of the guards would touch her. Or the men at the fancy parties. Long story short, she didn’t make it to the nearest town before the guards caught her. When they brought her back, we were all forced to watch her punishment.”

“They made you watch?”

“To make a point. They stripped her and whipped her in front of us. Her screams echoed through the facility, a chilling reminder of what awaited anyone who dared to defy them. Afterward, she was locked in solitary confinement for days, with only bread and water to survive on.”

“At any time, did you think about escape?”

“Never. We were there to learn, and they had rules we had to follow. It was just the way things were. I knew any attempt to break the rules would result in punishment. That fear kept us in line, but not once did I feel like I was a captive. I was grateful for what they were doing for me. Their emotional control was that strong.”

“You did say insidious.”

“It was nothing compared to the mental manipulation. The staff would praise us one moment and degrade us the next. They told us we were special, chosen for greatness. They played mind games, isolating us from each other and making us compete for their approval. They had us believing we would be nothing without them. The constant gaslighting and brainwashing made it impossible to think clearly. And then…” I hesitate with this last part.

“And then, what?”

“They hooked us on drugs. Cocaine mostly; said it was to help us stay slim. There was more.”

Much more.

“Is there a name? An address?”

“Elite Essence is what they called themselves. I never knew the address.”

“Were you ever told you could leave?”

“And go where?” I shrug. “They took me from the street. I wasn’t abducted like the girls in your case, but my father had no idea what happened to me. I could go back to him or back to living on the streets. Despite the hardships at the estate, it was better than returning to an abusive home. Never was there any reason to think things weren’t on the up and up. I was excited by all the things they told me. I went willingly. We all did.”

“You mentioned flirting with the men. Did you have to…” Carter’s jaw tightens, and his grip on my hand grows firmer, offering silent support. Max’s ears twitch, and he moves closer, his body language alert yet calming.

“No.” I shake my head vigorously. “They were very careful about that. It was nice, to be honest.”

“Nice? What does that mean?”

“They protected us from the men who got too handsy . The men didn’t touch us. They weren’t allowed.”

“Not allowed?”

“Like I said, we were protected from things like that. It had something to do with an old club way back when. The men could look but not touch. It made it more—civilized.”

“Civilized?”

“They wanted us to feel safe. Said as much at the outset. The men couldn’t touch us; we were supposed to report it if it happened. On the other hand, we were encouraged to flirt and do whatever it took to make them feel special. There was nothing about sex, which is why it never occurred to me that…” I choke up at this part, then shake my head as if that could erase the memories.

“I never felt exploited. Uncomfortable, for sure. At least at first, but then it became a game.”

“Game?”

“To see who could get the biggest tips. The best gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“If a man favored a girl, he could give her gifts.”

“Jenna, I hate to ask, but the more specific you can be…”

“I didn’t see the trap until it was too late. They began taking me to these private parties, introducing me to clients who were powerful and wealthy. The men at these events had a way of looking at me that made my skin crawl. Their eyes were predatory, and I felt dirty being a part of it, but I kept telling myself it was just part of the job. I was there to make them feel special and get as big of a tip as possible. Gifts as well. I refused to accept what my gut was telling me.”

“What happened at those parties?” Carter leans in closer, his expression intense.

“At first, it was just mingling. I was still in training and didn’t understand what was happening. The clients would make suggestive comments, but I brushed it off. I was told to be polite, smile, and make them feel special. And like I said, they never touched me during those parties, just watched.”

I pause, the memories flooding back. Max whines softly, sensing my distress, and nudges my leg again. I reach down to scratch his ear.

“Then came the night of the final private party. This time, it was different. They said I was ready to take the stage. I thought they meant to walk the runway and model for real.”