Buying the Virgin

Chapter 115: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Thirty-One

MICHAEL

“What now?” asks Richard. “I’d like to get Elizabeth home.”

“Perhaps one of the police cars?” I suggest. “Now that Charlotte knows we’re here, and the police too,

maybe she’ll show up.”

Richard vanishes with Beth, all but holding her upright as she sags into his arms.

Will Stanton leans in through the window. “You two happy to stay here, visible? I’ve got patrols out

there, looking for her. I think it’s best if you are where she can see you easily.”

James and I wait….

And wait…

And Charlotte does not appear. Neither of us wants to suggest the obvious.

Eventually, my gut grinding, “Perhaps they caught her again.”

James nods, looking down, fingers pressing the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps.”

“Let’s stay until daylight,” I suggest. “If she is out there somewhere, and can definitely see that it’s

us….”

But as the sun rises, and the long morning light draws fingers over the wild land, there is still no sign of

her.

Neither of us has slept, so Will assigns an officer to drive us back to the City. Richard is there, waiting,

his jubilation over Beth’s return over-shadowed by the loss of Charlotte. “You two need to sleep. I’ll

make sure that the phones are manned, and, you never know, so I’ll keep someone watching the tracer

sites.”

As I collapse into a troubled sleep, my dreams are haunted by visions of my wild, green-eyed red-

headed beauty….

…. James and I, ready to make love with her, her smile bright as she sees us, there to fuck her. She

lies back, writhing and stretching while she stares up at us, parting her legs in invitation….

…. I hold her tightly in front of me, my arms hooked under hers, tensioning her for him. Her body

strains as I pin her tightly, and he pushes her thighs apart to plant his mouth over her sweet pussy…. I

watch as he laps at her, his tongue wiping through her folds as she runs hot and wet, her juices flowing

as her arousal builds. Her body shivers against mine, and in the mirrors, she watches me behind her,

her eyes wide and dark as orgasm claims her….

…. she wails and howls in climax, never holding back, simply riding the wave as she bucks and jerks

against me….

…. her wicked smile, and her eyes, as her lips wrap around my shaft, working me with her tongue until

I spill into her mouth.…

…. her smile as, poised over her, I push at her with my cock, teasing her cunt. I hear her gasp, feel her

clench around me as I ease inwards….

…. running in the headlights, fleeing from me, thinking I am her enemy...

I love you.

And you left me….

*****

Three days go by. We hear nothing.

James and I return to the area, still searching. The police report finding a small building in the woods, a

couple of miles from where we first saw the running women, but it is deserted.

*****

James’ phone rings. He glances at the screen, frowning at an unfamiliar number. “Hello? Yes, I’m

James Alexanders.”

A voice blarts at him over the line. James’ eyes widen, and he waves me over.

“A red-head?” he asks……. “Yes, give her whatever she wants. Is she there? Can I speak to her?

What? Fuck! No, don’t hang up. I’ll get you the card details…. Hold on….”

He waves towards his jacket, hung over a chair. “Michael. My wallet….”

Light-headed with relief, I listen in.

James reads out credit card details, pauses, then, “No, it’s not a joke. She’ll come back. Whatever she

was asking for, get it and make it ready for use. I want you to put a SIM card in there, on an unlimited

usage contract. You can charge it to this card. And get the battery charged up fully. I want the phone to

be ready for her when she comes back. And she will come back. …. I don’t care. Use the battery from

your own phone if necessary. Charge me for it. But have that mobile ready for her to use, as soon as

she has it. Did she ask for anything else? Apart from the phone….?”

He taps off the connection. “That was Domestic Electrics in Barnbridge. Charlotte’s in there trying to

buy a smartphone, and an expensive data package with it. Also, LED flashlights and batteries. The

assistant said she kept looking over her shoulder and then disappeared.”

I find myself taking deep breaths, trying to clear my head. James, concern in his eyes, slaps me on the

shoulder. “Calm down. She’s good. And she’s operating.”

I nod. “Barnbridge? That’s, what? Ten miles from where we lost her? But it must be fifty miles away

from here. We can only hope she does go back to that shop.”

“If she doesn’t return there, she’ll try somewhere else. Keep your phone handy. Think we should set off Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

for Barnbridge?”

I ponder for a moment. “Let’s give it a few minutes. Why does she want a data package? She’s still up

to something.”

Fifteen minutes later, both my phone and James’ ping with an incoming message.

“I’m coming. Don’t tell ANYONE but Richard. DO NOT tell Will Stanton or police. They have an

informer. Beth back safe?”

I tap a reply.

“Yes, Beth here safe. r u ok? Where r u? We’ll come 4 u”

“NO. Ur being watched. I’m coming to u at Hswl bldg. Yes am ok. Will msg when I can. Might take

couple days. Gotta stay under cover. Love u both. Sorry disobeyed you."

“Watched? Who by?”

But there are no more replies.

We stand in awkward silence. “I’m beginning to understand why she got so frustrated at being locked

up, not able to do anything….” says James eventually.

“Hang on to that thought.”

*****

A few hours later, we both receive a single short message.

“On my way”

Then nothing for a full day, until:

“Almost there.”

And again, nothing else for some time.

And we wait…. endlessly….

*****

Two days later, the alarms go off. Richard glances up and around “What the hell…? Francis, is there a

fire drill going on they’ve not told me about?”

“No, not today Mr Haswell. I’m just calling Security now... They’re reporting some kind of disturbance in

the basement levels….”

“Well, get them to shut off that racket!”

The alarms die down. “Um, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, how Charlotte is returning. So, she’s

not told you any details at all? Just a couple of one-line messages to say she’s alright and still on her

way?”

James is pacing up and down the room. Patience is not one of his virtues, and my own is wearing thin.

We are both stretched to breaking point. “All we know,” he says, “Is that she wanted a top-end

smartphone and flashlights.…”

“She planned to travel in the dark?”

Francis pokes her head through the door, streaming tears of laughter. For the first time in days, I’m

looking at someone with real joy in their eyes.

“Er, you’d better all get down to the parking level. You’re wanted there….”

*****

A blue boiler-suited plumber levers up a manhole cover with a crowbar. Heaving and puffing, he rolls it

to one side. “Not had to go down here for years…” he comments, then, grinning, reaches down with an

extended hand. “Come on, Love. Y’know there’s a reason they call these manholes. Usually, women

aren’t interested in wading through three feet of shite.

He heaves, and up comes Charlotte, filthy, her hair hanging in stinking rats’ tails around her, and

coated in God-knows-what over half her body.

She stands there, breathing heavily, staring at her hands. “Oh…. that was fuckin’ awful.” Then she

spies me, James and Richard. “Um, hi Guys. Sorry it took a while. The plans I had didn’t quite match

the reality down there, and I had to make some diversions. Got lost for a bit. Er…. I know you’re going

to bawl me out, but can I have a bath first? I had to come through the sewers part of the way, and there

were places I had to wade….”

James walks up to her, arms outstretched. She grins, all white teeth under the filth, but apology in her

voice. “For God’s sake, don’t try to touch me….” Then she pauses. “Beth’s okay? Yes?”

Richard beams at her. “Beth’s fine. Thank you, Charlotte.”

*****

In the apartment, Charlotte charges straight into the bathroom, strips off, dropping her clothes to the

floor as she vanishes into the shower. The clothes are disgusting. I scoop them into a plastic waste bag

and dump the lot, hovering over the laundry chute, before settling for the garbage. She herself, even

under the clothes, is filthy.

In the lounge, James and I wait together. “What’s our line?” he says quietly. “How mad at her are

we?”