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

5. Jenna

FIVE

Jenna

“And what did that mean? To walk to the runway for real?” Carter’s eyes probe for details, but he does it in a way that makes me feel safe.

As if any of this is helping, but somehow, it feels good to finally talk about it with someone other than Forest.

“Reliving these memories isn’t easy.”

“I know, but Forest thinks there’s a connection and a way you might be able to help me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

I take a deep breath. “That night, besides serving, I was told I would model for the clients. They paraded us around in barely-there lingerie. It was a fashion show but with a twist. As we walked up and down the runway, the men placed bids. I thought they were bidding on the merchandise—th-the lingerie. We were given numbers to wear on our garters. I didn’t realize they were bidding on me. I thought…” I choke up at this point.

“When did you realize what was happening?”

“My gut was screaming at me that something was off , but I ignored it. Sophia figured it out. She told me we had to get out. That they planned to sell us. I didn’t believe her. I should have. ”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened. They manipulated you. Used you.”

“Yeah, but Sophia was always suspicious. I didn’t believe her until they brought me to the man who placed the winning bid on the lingerie I thought I was modeling… That’s when everything changed.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”

“He told me to strip. I thought he wanted the garment. He leaped to his feet when I hesitated and said I belonged to him. I was stunned. Shocked. He ripped the lingerie off of me. It still didn’t hit me until he touched me. They weren’t supposed to touch us, but he touched me. And they allowed it.”

I take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the memories. Max lies down at my feet, his head resting on his paws, his eyes watching me closely.

“Whatever you tell me stays in this room. Forest made me promise. How did you escape?”

I swallow hard, the memories still fresh and raw despite the years. “I felt so stupid. Sophia warned me. Over and over, she said it wasn’t right. After these parties, some girls didn’t return to the dorms, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to believe her. But then, as I stood there, naked, with that man’s hands on me, I had to do something.”

Max sits up a little straighter as if sensing the importance of this part of the story.

“What did you do?”

The room fades away, the present slipping from my grasp as I’m pulled back into that night. I’m no longer sitting here, safe and sound—I’m back in that suffocating room, the walls closing around me…

The air is stale, filled with the pungent smell of sweat and cigarettes. The fear that grips me is so palpable that I taste it, a bitter, metallic tang that forces bile into my throat. His breath is hot against my skin, a grotesque contrast to the coldness of his eyes. Each exhale sends a shudder through me.

He pushes me onto the bed, his hands rough and demanding, bruising my flesh as he holds me down.

"Please, don't," I beg, my voice a whisper. But he ignores me, his grip tightening as he forces himself on me. Tears stream down my cheeks, the saltiness mixing with the bitter taste in my mouth.

"Stop fighting," he growls, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "I paid good money for you.”

I fight back, kicking and clawing, but he's too strong.

I try to scream, but no sound comes out. My throat is dry, my voice stolen by the sheer terror that consumes me.

The physical pain is overwhelming, but it's the emotional agony that consumes me. I feel violated, broken, and utterly helpless.

Eventually, he finishes. The man pulls away, a twisted smile curling on his lips, a glint of sadistic anticipation in his eyes. It's not disgust—it's the cruel satisfaction of knowing he owns me, like he's savoring the years of torment he's planning.

"I was told you knew how to behave, but you’re a wild animal. That’s okay, because I look forward to breaking you.”

He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I lie there, trembling, my body aching from the assault.

My limbs feel like lead. My heart is a heavy stone in my chest. The room spins, and I drown in a sea of despair.

Somehow, a small voice inside me whispers, urging me to move, to get out.

The room comes back into focus, the present rushing back in. I find myself sitting across from Carter, the weight of that night pressing down on me. His jaw is tense as I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“He took my virginity. Ripped it from me the way he tore the lingerie off my body. ”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Something inside of me died that night," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Part of me will always be back in that room, forever trapped in that moment."

Carter reaches out, gently touching me, offering silent comfort. I cling to that touch, drawing strength from it as I continue my story.

“I imagine security must have been tight. How did you escape?”

“There weren’t many guards in that part of the estate. They were all at the event with the other girls. I knocked the guard out and ran.”

"You're fearless, Jenna. Not many people could have done what you did. It’s a miracle you got away. How did you knock out one of the guards?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for another flood of memories.

I check the door. Locked. The window’s next. It, too, is locked. I need something to pick the lock.

I search the room, pull out drawers, and find a small metal letter opener. It’s not much, but maybe enough. I use the letter opener and try jimmying the lock.

Footsteps outside the door have me diving back onto the bed. I hide the letter opener under a pillow. The lock clicks and the door opens. It’s not the man who bought me, but a guard.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just—waiting.”

He turns to leave, but I can’t let him go.

“Um, do you have a cigarette?”

“A cigarette?”

“It calms me.”

By some grace, he considers my request. He hesitates but then pulls out a pack from his pocket. He lights a cigarette and hands it to me.

I can’t tell Carter what happened next. He’s a cop.

But as I sit here, the memory tightens its hold on me, dragging me back to that night. I still feel the weight of the cigarette between my fingers and the tremor in my hand as I bring it to my lips.

"Thanks.” I smile seductively at the guard. "Can you stay a moment? I'm scared." He looks uncertain but sits down on the edge of the bed.

Something comes over me—madness perhaps. Somehow, the letter opener is in my hand, and I stab it into his neck. The sudden gush of blood is horrifying. His eyes widen in shock. His hands fly up to his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it’s too late.

I jump off the bed, throw the letter opener aside, and run for the now—open door. The hallway is empty. I sprint down it, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble floors. The sound echoes through the corridor, seeming to amplify my desperation.

I spot a staircase leading down and take it, my legs threatening to give out with each step. At the bottom, there’s a massive wooden door.

But it’s locked.

My mind replays how my heart pounded as I grabbed the letter opener from under the pillows… How it felt sinking into the guard’s neck.

I force the memory away, and the present rushes back in. I manage a small smile, feeling relieved that I made it through that part of the story without having to confess to a murder.

"I just did what I had to do to survive. I found a service stairway and headed down. Somehow, I made it to an exterior door. It was locked, but I broke a nearby window and climbed out.”

“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like… But you did what you had to do. You survived.” His voice softens, making me feel like a hero rather than a murderer. Not that I told him about that part .

“Sliced my hands to shreds, my feet too, but I couldn’t stop. It was pitch black, and I had no idea where I was. But I kept moving.”

Max shifts slightly, his head resting on my foot, grounding me. I pet him absently, drawing strength from his presence.

“Outside, I hid between rows of expensive cars, making my way to the edge of the property. It didn’t take long before they discovered I was gone. I ran as fast as I could, not caring where I was going, just needing to get away. I crossed the lawn and plunged into a field. The bushes scratched my skin, and my feet bled from the glass and sharp stones. I tripped several times, but I got up and just kept running.”

Carter’s grip on my hand tightens, his eyes urging me to continue.

“They sent dogs after me. I could hear their barks, their growls, the snapping of their teeth getting closer.”

Max whines softly, sensing my distress. Carter’s jaw is clenched, his anger palpable.

“I came across a road. The dogs were nearly on me. The men were a bit behind but closing in fast. A fancy car approached. It stopped. The man inside didn’t ask questions. He popped open the passenger door and told me to climb in. The moment I did, the first dogs came into sight.”

Carter’s eyes fill with a mix of horror and admiration. “And then what happened?”

“The man drove off. He didn’t press for details; he just drove. The dogs and the men chasing me disappeared in the rearview mirror. That man was Forest Summers. He took me to the Guardians. They helped me put my life back together and taught me how to hide and how to live without being discovered. That’s how I escaped. It wasn’t easy, and I was lucky. But I got out. No one can know any of this.”

“I promise,” Carter says, his voice low and fierce. “I’d never tell anyone.”

I take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the memories lifting slightly. Max gives a small whine, and I draw comfort from his steady presence .

“That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“That man paid millions for me. He will come for me if he discovers where I am.”

“I’ll protect you. I just… I need your help.”

“Other than what I’ve told you, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Can you tell me more about how they target girls? How they targeted you?”

“They target vulnerable girls—runaways, those with troubled family backgrounds, or those simply looking for a way out of their current lives. They lure them with promises that seem too good to be true, and once they have them, the real nightmare begins. That was me. If it’s the same operation that took me, they canvas the streets for pretty girls. The girls that are missing… Are they pretty?”

“They’re all beautiful, and all with tragic home situations.”

“Then that’s your connection.”

“Can you tell me anything else about how they approached you? Their selection process?” His eyes never leave mine, his attention unwavering.

“They’re meticulous. They study their targets, learn their routines, and their habits. They look for girls who won’t be missed immediately or have a history of running away. Once they have enough information, they make their move. They promise the stars and groomed me for weeks before I agreed to go with them. Worked like a charm. I was everything they were looking for. Young, malleable, desperate, and looking for love and acceptance. Validation that I was worthy of more than my father’s fists.” I pause, the memories flooding back. Max lifts his head, sensing the tension in the room.

“And the parties?”

“The parties are where they do most of their business. High-profile clients, people with money and power, come to these events to ‘ shop .’ It’s disgusting, but it’s how they operate.”

“And how do they keep their operation hidden?” Carter’s jaw tightens, his anger palpable .

“They have connections. Corrupt officials, law enforcement on the take, and anyone who can help them stay under the radar. Those officials were their most lucrative clients. It’s a well-oiled machine designed to avoid detection.”

“I need to identify these connections. I’ll start with the modeling agency. Can you give me their name?”

“Elite Essentials, but good luck with that.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was at the Facility, I tried to look them up. Sophia was also there that night—at the auction. She didn’t get out like me. I thought I would find her… Free her.”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve. They may have changed the name, but I doubt they changed how they operate.”

“All I can say is these people are careful and have a lot of money.”

“Thank you.” Carter leans forward, determination etched on his face. “This really helps.”

I look into Carter’s eyes, seeing the depth of his desperation. “I don’t know how any of that can help you, but I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Jenna, I know this is hard, but your insights are invaluable. I need to ask something else.” Carter squeezes my hand, his grip strong and steady.

“What more could you need?” I furrow my brow, feeling the weight of his words. “I’ve told you everything.”

“I need to profile these people. Your experience with them—how they think and operate—could be the key to predicting their next move. Anything you can remember about those men will help me find them.”

I shake my head, feeling the pull of my past trying to drag me back under.

Carter’s eyes soften, and he moves closer, his voice gentle yet insistent. “But you know their behavior, their tactics. You’ve seen their faces.”

“I have. ”

Max nudges my leg again, his big eyes full of concern. I stroke his head, drawing strength from his unwavering loyalty. Carter watches me, waiting for my response.

“Please,” he continues, “help me.”