Chapter 13: Visitors

- Edward

I walked beside Ritter down the stairs of the atrium, my boots making a steady rhythm against the polished steps. The weight of my sidearm pressed against my hip, a comforting presence in this new world gone mad. My mind kept circling back to what I'd seen when Ritter opened that door: disheveled, belt half-done, his wife in bed behind him. None of my business, really, but damn strange considering what he'd told me earlier.

"I can't believe it," he'd said, voice cracking as he led those claimed women to their suite. "Cedric claimed her. My own fucking wife. Claimed by my best friend." He'd looked shell-shocked, like guys I'd seen in combat zones after their first firefight.

Made sense now, I guess. His buddy must've instructed the wife to stay with Ritter, maybe even to sleep with him. That's how it worked with the claimed women: they'd do whatever their "master" told them to do. Warda was the same way now. I'd claimed her as a practical measure, both of us agreeing it made more sense for her to be claimed by me than by some random asshole. Now she followed my orders with an eagerness that was both useful and unsettling. Funny how the tables had turned. She usually liked to give me orders, in private. I guess that would change too. It was still fucked up, though, what had happened between Ritter, Cedric, and the wife. I don't know if I could fuck my wife knowing she was doing it because she'd been told to. Seemed like some weird-ass cuckoldry, and I didn't get the idea Ritter was into that. From the look on his face, though, it seemed it had not been the relaxing fuck he'd been looking for.

Good thing I didn't have to worry about someone claiming my wife. Small mercies of being divorced, I guess. Dolores had made those last two years a living hell: the cheating, the lies, taking half of everything I'd worked for. Part of me hoped she'd been claimed by some controlling bastard who'd treat her exactly how she'd treated me. Maybe now she'd understand what it felt like to be used and discarded.

Not forever, though. I wasn't a monster. Once Ramona and her team figured out how to free these women, Dolores could go back to being her usual disgusting self. Just a little karmic justice in the meantime.

Ritter broke the silence, his voice tight with stress. "We were so fucking stupid. We didn't think about the partners of the women we claimed. Husbands, boyfriends… Of course they'd come looking."

We reached the atrium, the massive glass entrance giving us a clear view of the gates about fifty yards away. Three men stood outside, one pounding on the glass door. Warda was already there, her stance defensive. Her eyes flicked to us as we approached, then returned to the men outside.

"We did everything with a sense of emergency," I said, checking that my weapon was secure but accessible. "What mattered was securing the right women for the operation. Didn't have time to worry about all the annoying consequences."

I reached the glass doors with Ritter, squinting into the darkness beyond the atrium's lights. Most of the exterior illumination had been shut down to avoid drawing attention, so the three men outside were mostly silhouettes until they stepped closer to the light spilling from inside.

The guy banging on the glass was a big fellow, fat around the middle, probably in his forties, with a red face and meaty fists that made dull thuds against the reinforced glass. To his right stood a more distinguished-looking man, late thirties maybe, wearing what had once been a nice button-down shirt now wrinkled and partially untucked. His jaw was clenched tight, hands balled into fists at his sides. The third guy hung back a bit, a skinny twentysomething with hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been running his hands through it for hours. His eyes darted around nervously, like he wasn't sure he should be here.

Something about their **** expressions made my stomach tighten. For a split second, I thought about Dolores again. Was some guy standing outside her workplace right now, demanding to see her? The thought made me feel sick, which pissed me off. Why should I care what happened to her after how she treated me?

"I brought the man in charge, like I said I would," I called through the glass, gesturing to Ritter beside me. Technically, Ramona was probably running this whole operation, but she was locked away in that MRI room and had made it clear she didn't want to be disturbed for "trivial matters." Besides, Ritter was Operations Director. Let him deal with this shit.

The fat man slammed his palm against the glass again. "You stole my wife, you sons of bitches!" His voice was muffled but still plenty loud. "I know she's in there!"

The other two stepped forward, emboldened by his outburst. The distinguished-looking guy pointed an accusing finger. "You had no right! No fucking right!"

Ritter stepped closer to the glass, his face pale but composed. "Who is your wife, sir?" he asked the fat man, his voice steady despite the tension I could see in his shoulders.

"Dr. Petra Silvra," the man spat. "And I know she's in there because her colleague saw her being dragged in by some old bearded bastard!" He slammed the glass again. "You fucking perverts! Taking advantage of this situation!"

The distinguished man stepped forward. "My wife is Dr. Renata Mendez. We have two children, for Christ's sake!" His voice broke slightly. "They're with my mother right now, asking where their mother is!"

I saw Ritter flinch at the name. Mendez was one of the women he'd claimed earlier. Shit was getting complicated fast.

Rodriguez appeared from a side corridor, hand resting on his holstered weapon. He was a compact guy, all muscle, with a buzz cut and steady eyes. "Everything okay, boss?" he asked, eyeing the men outside.

"We're fine," I said, waving him off. "Go check the east wing again. Make sure all the exterior doors are secured." No point having too many people here if things went south. Better to have someone watching our backs.

The banging grew louder, the fat man now using both fists. Ritter took an instinctive step back, but I held my ground.

"Don't worry," I told him quietly. "All the glass on the first floor is reinforced. They'd need a battering ram to get through."

The skinny guy in the back mumbled something, his voice too low to hear through the glass.

"Speak up!" I called to him. "We can't hear you."

He stepped forward reluctantly, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Nia Fenwick," he said, louder this time. "She's my fiancée. We were supposed to get married next month."

Ritter groaned, running a hand down his face. Another one of his claimed women. This night was just getting better and better.

He stood there looking lost, his hands spread in a helpless gesture. "This isn't fair to them," he muttered to me. "These men just want their wives and girlfriends back."

I shrugged, though the whole situation made my skin crawl. "Fair or not, it would be absurd to release them now. We need these women for their expertise, and they're already claimed." I lowered my voice so only Ritter could hear. "Think about it. Do these guys really want to spend the rest of their lives, or at least however long it takes to free all women, with partners who only care about pleasing someone else?"

Ritter flinched like I'd slapped him. I could see the wheels turning in his head, probably thinking about his own wife and how she was now devoted to his best friend. Still, he kept his composure, professional to the core.

"Maybe we should let them in," he suggested quietly. "Stay with us so they can be with their lovers..."

"Absolutely not," I said firmly. "As long as I'm in charge of security, there's no way in hell I'm letting anyone who isn't part of our operation inside these doors." I crossed my arms over my chest. "And I'm pretty sure Dr. Quinn would back me up on this."

The fat man was now red-faced, shouting something we couldn't quite make out through the glass. The distinguished guy had pulled out his phone and was holding it up like he was recording us. Funny shit. Who would even care at this point?

"We should tell them the truth," I started, then stopped myself as the men outside grew more agitated, the fat one now kicking at the door. "Actually, no. Bad idea. Advertising that we're working against whatever the hell this 'Source' is might not be the smartest move."

Ritter shook his head. "I disagree. With all the suspicions about Echelon even before today, plus my little speech in the atrium earlier when I was claiming women, a lot of people already know what we're up to." He gestured toward the angry men. "Three more wouldn't make much difference. And maybe if they understand what's at stake, they'll keep quiet about it."

I didn't like it, but he was the boss. I nodded reluctantly.

Ritter stepped forward, close enough to the glass that his breath fogged it slightly. "Listen," he called, loud enough to be heard through the barrier. "Yes, we claimed your women."

That set them off immediately. The fat man bellowed something that sounded like "Motherfuckers!" while the distinguished guy stepped forward, pounding the glass with his fist.

Ritter held up his hands. "Not for personal reasons!" he shouted over their noise. "We're working on a cure! A way to free all women! It was either us claiming them or someone else would have!"

"I would have claimed her myself!" the distinguished man shouted, slamming his palm against the glass. "She's my wife!"

"If you're only showing up now," I called out, stepping forward, "that was quite a risk you were taking. Early bird catches the worm."

The guy went absolutely nuts, screaming obscenities and threats that made me glad for the reinforced glass between us.

Ritter turned to me, his eyes narrowing. "Wait a minute. Why are there only three of them? And why show up so late?"

I shrugged. "Makes sense, actually. The reason we had no luck finding the other women on Ramona's list is probably because most of them were in relationships. Either they went out looking for their significant others as soon as this shit started, or their partners came to get them later on." I gestured toward the atrium behind us. "I only locked the doors what, twenty minutes after the message from the Source? It took me a while longer to close the secondary entrances. I left the doors open for a few hours after that one-hour window we gave ourselves to claim the scientists on the list. Plenty of time for people to come in and out. Some of the women we missed might have left then..."

Ritter nodded thoughtfully. "You're right... Most of the women we managed to claim are single, as far as I know... Well except for a few..." he trailed off, looking at the distressed men outside.

The fat man was now trying to peer around us, as if he might spot his wife somewhere in the building.

"I'll check the security footage later," I continued, "but I bet we'll see quite a few visitors from outside: partners or just opportunists using the chaos to claim themselves some hot scientists." I tapped my watch. "I only locked down the building a couple hours ago. These guys are just late to the party."

The skinny guy finally stepped forward, his voice shaking slightly. "How do we know you're telling the truth? How do we know you're not abusing them? That you're really working on freeing the women?"

I spread my hands. "You can't. There's no way for us to prove it to you unless you understand the scientific data we could show you." Which I imagine Quinn and Conrad had no intention of doing. "And even if we brought your women out here, you couldn't trust what they'd say now, could you? They'd just say whatever the men who claimed them want them to say."

The skinny guy's shoulders slumped as the reality sank in.

"The way I see it," I continued, "you've got two options. Either believe what we're telling you and leave, or don't believe us and leave anyway. Because they're claimed now, by other men. It's too late." I let my hand rest casually on my holstered weapon. "And if you try anything funny, you risk getting shot. For what? Women who don't want to be with you anymore?"

The fat man's face crumpled, desperation replacing anger. He pressed both palms against the glass, no longer hitting it but pleading. "Please," he begged. "I just want to see Petra. Just for a minute."

The skinny guy backed away, shaking his head. Either he'd gotten the message or realized there was no point arguing. Without another word, he turned and walked into the darkness.

The well-dressed man remained, his expression hardening into something more calculating. "Swear to me you'll release Renata when you find a cure," he demanded. "How long will it take?"

Ritter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I swear. But honestly, I don't know. Could be days, could be weeks, could be months. We're working as fast as we can."

The man stared at him for a long moment, then nodded curtly and turned away. The fat man lingered, his forehead pressed against the glass.

"I'll be back," he warned, his voice breaking. "You haven't seen the last of me."

Then he too retreated into the darkness, following the well-dressed man, toward the parking lot, until they disappeared from view.

Warda sighed beside me, her stance relaxing now that the immediate threat was gone. "Ten bucks says at least one of them has a couple claimed women waiting at home," she said with a smirk. "Might explain why they were so late to the rescue."

Ritter didn't respond to her joke. He just stood there, staring through the glass with haunted eyes.

"I'm going back to my room," he finally said, his voice hollow. "Call me if there are any more… situations."

I watched him walk away, shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of the world. Back to his wife who wasn't really his anymore. Fucked up didn't begin to cover it.

"Poor guy," I said once Ritter was out of earshot.

Warda raised an eyebrow. "What's his deal?"

"His best friend claimed his wife," I explained, keeping my voice low. "Did it to protect her when everything went to shit, but still… can you imagine?"

Warda's lips curved into a smile. "Actually, I can. It's kind of sweet, in a way. His friend made sure she'd be safe, and now she's probably taking care of both of them." She shrugged. "Could be worse."

I glanced around the atrium, making sure we were alone, then pulled her into my arms. She came willingly, pressing her body against mine with a playfulness that was new. Before today, Warda had always been all business on duty, maintaining professional distance even though we'd been sleeping together for months.

"You know," she murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest, "I could do a lot more than just stand guard with you tonight."

My body responded immediately to her suggestion. "We need to monitor the perimeter all night," I said, though my resolve was weakening by the second. "Make sure everything's secure."

She grinned up at me, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You could sit right here," she nodded toward the reception desk, "keep an eye on the entrance while I… take care of you."

I chuckled, already moving toward the desk. "You're not so tough with me anymore, are you? What happened to Officer Collins who used to order me around in bed?"

Warda followed, her hips swaying. "I could still be tough, if that's what you want," she offered, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Just say the word."

I settled into the chair behind the reception desk, spreading my legs slightly. "I'm fine with things as they are right now," I said, feeling a surge of power I'd never experienced with her before. "For now." I pointed to the floor between my feet. "Get on your fucking knees."

Warda dropped to the floor obediently, her eyes shining with eagerness. She crawled forward, her hands sliding up my thighs.

"Good girl," I praised her, enjoying the way she shivered at the words. Domination wasn't really my thing, but with her like this, I could learn to love it. "Now be a good slut and take my cock out."

She hurried to unbuckle my belt, unbutton my pants, and pull down the zipper. Her small, quick hands tugged my boxers down enough to free my rapidly hardening cock. I leaned back in the chair, watching her work with a sense of smug satisfaction. It felt fucking amazing to be in control for once. To have her be the one who needed to please me, instead of the other way around. Not that I hadn't enjoyed the way things were before. Warda was a **** of nature in bed, and I'd always appreciated her taking charge. But this? This was a nice change of pace.

"Open your mouth, slut," I ordered, my voice steady despite the anticipation coiling in my gut. She complied immediately, her lips parting, tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. I gripped the back of her head and guided her down, feeling the heat of her mouth envelop my cock like a velvet glove. "Fuck," I groaned as she began to suck, her tongue swirling around the head. "That's it. Just like that." I let my eyes flutter closed, savoring the sensation of her warm, wet mouth working my shaft with practiced skill. She knew exactly what I liked, exactly how to drive me crazy. What used to be a reward for my good behavior was now something she was eager to give without me earning it first.

I opened my eyes again to watch her work, her head bobbing up and down in a slow, steady rhythm. Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed in concentration. She moaned softly as she took me deeper, the sound vibrating along my length. My fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her movements. She looked up at me through lowered lashes, and the sight of her like that, on her knees, eyes glazed with lust, mouth stretched wide around my cock, nearly sent me over the edge right then. I gripped her hair tighter, holding her in place as I thrust up into her mouth. She gagged slightly but didn't resist, letting me fuck her throat with quick, shallow strokes. I felt her swallow around me, and it was too much. With a guttural groan, I exploded down her throat, hips jerking erratically as I emptied myself into her. She hated to swallow before, complaining about the taste for hours. But this time she took it all, licking my cock clean and swallowing it like it was fucking honey, the smirk on her face telling me how she was aware of the irony and happy to go with it.

She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Was that to your liking, sir?" she chuckled, licking her lips, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I laughed, still trying to catch my breath. "Yeah," I managed. "Nice change of pace, for sure."

Alright! This was chapter 13 out of 67. I'll post one or more chapters daily. If you wish to support my work, or want exclusive access to the rest of the story, feel free to purchase it on Kindle or Smashwords, and do not hesitate to check out the rest of my published work there.As always, feedback is highly appreciated, good or bad.

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