Juliette Abducted

I apologize in advance. This story has been an earworm for the last month, and I need to purge it, so although it's disjointed, I'm pushing it off on you. Sorry.

Monica pulled Billy close enough to whisper in his ear, "You can't see it, but Larry says Marcy is feeling him up on the dance floor and rubbing her ass and tits all over him!"

"Larry", whose real name was Buckie, was holding Marcy up against him to prevent her from falling, now moved his right hand down to squeeze her ass. Marcy squirmed against Buckie, barely conscious but trying to move away from the grabbing hand.

What Billy saw was the girl he'd brought dry humping some random on the dance floor. He was hurt. He liked the girl, but this was only their third date. He felt lucky to find out what she was now, instead of later.

"Fuck her!", he said, pushing Monica away. "I'm out of here." He downed his drink at the table, reached for his coat and stomped out.

Monica smiled, and after receiving a text from their third partner confirming that Billy had left the parking lot, signaled Buckie the all-clear. At the table, she purposely tipped over Marcy's glass, with the remnants of the drugs Monica had added to Marcy's drink, over the table. Buckie brought the stumbling girl towards the exit as his partner retrieved their coats and purses before following them out.

It was several days later that Billy found out that Marcy had not been seen again.

[------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

The club was packed, and a trouple, or a couple with a friend, were looking at the four empty seats at our table. After a brief discussion, the woman approached Juliette and ask if the four chairs were empty, and would we mind sharing the table.

Without consulting me, Juliette invited the group to join us at the table. "I'm Juliette, and this is my boyfriend, Matt."

"Well, honey, aren't you just the cutest thing," the woman smiled as she sat down. I had to agree with her; Juliette was the cutest thing, not just in the club, but in the county. At least, I thought so.

"I'm Betty, and this is my boyfriend, Larry and our friend Marcus." As they sat down, Betty seemed to arrange to have Marcus sit next to Juliette. Meanwhile, Larry crowded in next to me, basically trapping me by the wall. Marcus was big and black, and Larry was white, but even larger than Marcus.

Juliette's face lit up with a bright smile as she shook everyone's hand. I thought Marcus held on to her hand a little longer than he should have. My hackles were already raised by the openly lecherous appraisal I could see him making as he ogled my girl. The bastard even licked his lips as he smiled.

I was quiet, silently burning as Juliette played the gadfly, openly flirting and simpering at the attention both Marcus and Larry were giving her. Betty did her best to distract me and draw me out, but I was having none of it. I hadn't invited them to sit down, and as far as I could see, they were predators. I gave Betty monosyllabic answers while I listened as Juliette detailed her entire life to the two men. Every attempt to derail her recital by me was ignored by my girl and smirked at by the two men.

Marcus would laugh at almost everything Juliette said, and use it as an excuse to touch her arm or shoulder. The touches became more frequent and lasted longer when Juliette failed to protest. Touches became caresses, and then just as I was about to object, Marcus held out his hand and asked Juliette to dance.

Without even a glance at me, Juliette hopped up and took Marcus's hand, turning towards the dance floor.

"NO!" I barked. Everyone stopped, even the waiters and people nearby. "No," I repeated, a little quieter. "If you want to dance, I'll dance with you."

Larry and Betty both started to object. "It's just a dance, man." Said Betty. "What's your problem," drawled Larry, with a sneering smile.

"Is it because I'm Black, man?" asked Marcus. "You some kind of racist?"

"No," I tried to assure him. "Juliette's here with me, tonight. It's our night, and my dance." I stood up in order to go to the dance floor, but Buckie stayed seated to block me in.

"What's your problem, Matt?" Juliette had that look I knew so well. I could have recited her next line. "You don't own me. I can dance with whomever I like." She was going to have one of her snits, just to put me in my place. If I stayed, the night would be very unpleasant.

Unbidden, anger flared but I fought it down. I remained calm. "You're right. I don't own you. You can dance with whoever you like, but don't expect me to be here when you're done."

Juliette sneered at me. "Drama much? I'll talk to you later. C'mon, Marcus." She took his hand and led him off to the dance floor.

I watched her walk away, surprised at how easily she could do that. Still standing there, blocked in by Larry. Betty and Larry were both looking at me with that smirking smile bastards seem to be born with. I thought I'd done enough.

"Fine." I said calmly. Larry hadn't moved so I grabbed the table and shoved it into the aisle, spilling the drinks on its top. The two assholes jumped up to avoid the liquid flowing off the table, and I stepped between the wall and the table.

I stopped and threw Juliette's purse onto the table. "You can give this to the bitch when she finishes dancing. Tell her we're done. Tell her I'll have her stuff at her mom's house in the morning. Tell her not to bother coming home." Betty gasped as I turned and left.

I was tempted to stay in the parking lot to see if she came out but decided just to head home. They probably had someone watching me. I started the engine and drove home.

I felt like an ass leaving her like that. Every atom in my being yelled at me to return, but she set this in motion. She set the scenario; she left me with no alternative but to leave.

Still, my stomach was so twisted with worry, I could hardly breathe.

[------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

Monica smiled at Buckie as she stuffed Juliette's clutch purse into her bag. "God, Buckie, this is too easy. I didn't even have a chance to drug her drink. They probably won't even miss her for days."

When Juliette returned to the table, she asked where Matt was. Monica gave her Matt's message and Juliette burst into tears. "Oh, no? I've got to get home. I need an Uber. Where's my purse?" She looked over the table and was checking underneath it when Monica answered her.

"I think Matt took it with him." She gave Juliette a sympathetic look.

"He took my phone and my money?" the abandoned girl sobbed. "How am I going to get home?"

Monica took her hand and assured her that they'd take her home. And they did.

Juliette was sitting in the second row of the passenger van with Marcus, sobbing and whining about pushing Matt too far this time. Marcus put a comforting arm around her and caressed her with his other hand. Juliette didn't seem to notice or to begin resisting until they stopped at the entrance to the parking lot, and the side door swung open as a man scrambled in, getting into the third row as the door closed. Juliette managed to ask, "What?" before "Betty" asked, "Everything clear?"

The man responded, "All clear. Terry's following the boyfriend. Doesn't look like he's coming back."

Juliette realized that they weren't headed to the address she'd given them. "What are you doing?" She screamed. "Where are you taking me?"

Marcus laughed as he grabbed the low-cut top Juliette wore and yanked it down until her breast spilled out. Juliette screamed louder as Marcus shoved her covering hands away and began massaging her tits. "Don't worry, honey. You'll enjoy this. They all do!"

Juliette screamed and struggled as Marcus slipped handcuffs on her and the man in the rear seat prepared a syringe.

As Juliette passed out, Monica unhooked her seatbelt and moved between the driver's and passenger seats. Reaching under the Juliette's skirt, she started pulling down the girl's underpants. "Let's see what we're working with, here." She chuckled. "Shaved! Buckie! Your favorite!"

[------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

Six girls had been abducted, abused and sold, all within 500 miles of Gray Falls. The five-person team that kidnapped them were clever and so far, had escaped detection, moving a hundred miles or more between the abductions.

When a house of ill repute was raided in Chicago, several of the girls working there were being held against their wills. They had been abducted and sex trafficked. Most were from foreign shores, but one was from a town one state over from Gray Falls. She told the story about being picked up at a dance club a year ago when her boyfriend had passed out. She'd been dancing with a rando who offered to drive her home. She was so mad at her boyfriend, who later turned out to have been drugged, that she accepted. It was thirteen months later when she was found being prostituted in that Southside brothel.

She'd been moved several times, and although she had been strung out on heroin and fentanyl, she was able to point the FBI to several other "clubs". They were raided and a half-dozen other American girls were recovered, along with many Asian and Eastern European sex slaves. Marcy was saved from servicing Johns in Detroit. She and the other girls who were rescued were able to give the police an idea of the movements of the gang. Gray Falls was one of the few areas they hadn't yet hit, and an intrepid Lieutenant with the GFPD set up a plan to trap them if they came our way.

The trap was sprung, and the net began to close.

[------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

I know. You think I'm a bastard for leaving Juliette in that situation. I'd like to tell you you're wrong, but there's probably more people I run into who think I'm a bastard than those who think I'm a nice guy. I'm not a nice guy.

Surprisingly, Juliette is one of the people who still thinks I'm a nice guy. But let's start over. I'd hate for people I just met to think I'm a bastard.

Hi! I'm Matthew Brewer. No, that's not right.

I'm Sergeant Matthew Brewer of the Grey Falls PD, and Juliette's not my girlfriend. I would never have left a girlfriend in that situation. No, Juliette's not my girlfriend. She's, my wife.

Lieutenant Juliette Brewer, also of the GFPD. Yes, she outranks me. She joined the force while I was in the service, so she's had more time to get promotions. And she's a much better political animal than I am. Someday, I expect her to be Chief. And I have no problems with that. In our household, I'm the brawn and she's the brain.

So, she was that intrepid lieutenant who planned the capture of Monica's crew. A tracker had been placed on their car as soon as they were identified at our table. Juliette's purse contained another tracker, but there was a concern that Monica would leave it behind or ditch it before they could be apprehended.

Terry was obvious in his attempt to tail me and was pulled over by a patrol car after he left my block. Three squad cars forced the van to stop, and Buckie was shot in the ass as he attempted to flee. The others surrendered quietly.

[------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

I was at Juliette's side as she slowly recovered consciousness in a hospital bed. Her doctor assured me that, other than being groggy, there would be no lasting harm from the injection she'd received.

She groaned, and her eyes fluttered. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it as I raised it to my lips. Her eyes opened and took several moments to focus on me, but then my wife smiled and drawled, "Hi."

The tension I felt rushed from my body, leaving me feeling weak as I babbled, "Are you okay? We got them, honey. Your plan worked great." I couldn't help myself. I repeated, "Are you okay."

She groaned and stretched under the sheets. "I'm fine. I think I've got a headache." Reaching up, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards her. "Give me a kiss and make me feel better." She grinned. "That's an order, Sergeant."

I thought about how easily she'd said, "You don't own me," at the club, and considered tossing it back at her as a joke, but I'd been married long enough to know a bad idea when I had one.

And after all, it was an order. Who was I to refuse?