Hi guys :) I hope you had a fantastic summer, and I hope more than anything that you'll enjoy this chapter!:) ~DP55

Ten

Trapped

Ten minutes later, I was back in the tiny room, a typed-up document and a blue ink pen on the table before me. "And if I don't sign?" I asked Aroldo sheepishly, even though I already knew the answer.

"There is no don't sign," he said coolly, "You either sign or you meet your maker."

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. This time, I wasn't faking the fear. It was either sign this paper and pray that Tintin could figure a way to get me out of here, or I stayed in this place, selling myself to men for the next four years of my life. I opened my eyes, inhaled deeply, and signed Catherine's name at the bottom of the paper.

Here goes nothing.

"One more thing, Miss Catherine. Are you a virgin?"

I wanted so badly to blurt out I'm married, but I held my tongue. "No, sir."

"Shame. We get more money for virgins. All right, get out of my sight and get a new dress from one of the girls."

By nightfall, I had already donned a new blue dress that was far too low-cut and tight for my liking, and I shifted in it uncomfortably as the other girls and I sat in the bar, waiting on our male customers. I watched as men I could only describe as terrifying and creepy, respectively, picked up Josephine and Vivian. A handsome Italian man whisked Elizabeth away, and then it was just me and the other dozen-or-so girls.

And then a figure walked through the front door of the pub.

He was unrecognizable to many, in his long black coat, black hat and lowered chin—but I recognized him all the same. He knew this, because he waltzed right up to me and sat in the chair beside me.

"So," he said in a scratchy voice, "What's a fella like me gotta do to get a girl like you for the night?" My husband winked at me and scooted himself closer to me—if any other man had done that to me, I would've deemed him creepy, but I had to suppress a laugh at my husband doing this.

"I love you," I mouthed.

"I love that dress on you," he said with a smirk, looking me straight in the eye and telling me exactly what he wanted to follow that statement.

"Your charge is half-off, I'm new here," I said loudly, before lowering my voice. "Let's go."

I'd been deemed my own room—there was a million rooms in this place—and I led him up the zigzagging stairs to it. I was way too excited. An hour before, I had been terrified to meet the man who'd buy my first night as a prostitute, but here was my husband, snatching me away as though it was just us on our honeymoon once again.

I swung my door open, and he slammed it shut almost immediately after he stepped into the room, pushed me against the wall, and kissed me hard. I shoved him away with both hands, gasping for breath and surpassing a laugh at him. "Take that outfit off before you kiss me, you slimy dog," I teased, "I want my husband, not some brothel scum kissing me."

In one fluid motion, he yanked his hat from his head and flung it across the room, shrugged his coat off of his shoulders, and began to kiss me again.

"Tintin," I gasped, "Shouldn't we…talk about our situation?"

"We can talk later," he answered gruffly.

"But isn't…the reason you're here…" I mumbled between kisses, "To talk?"

"I'm here to kiss my wife," he said, silencing me with his lips. Then he stepped back and chuckled at me, which only made my cheeks flush bright pink. "My God, I love you, Nollie. And I've missed you. Not being with you today just felt wrong." He looped his arms around my waist and tugged me closer.

"I know. I missed you, too. This place is rotten to the core."

"As I would expect." He dropped his grasp on me and walked over to the bed, motioning for me to join him. "I wish I could tell you that you look beautiful, but I feel as though I'm talking to another woman at the moment." Oh, right. I was still wearing Catherine's face and hair.

"Do you want me to take it off? Because I could, and I want to. Especially for you."

He looked as though he wanted to say no, but he hesitated and finally agreed. "Yes. Please do." I ducked into the bathroom attached to my room, scrubbed the makeup off and pulled my hair back to his normal length. When I stared at myself in the mirror—makeupless, an unruly mess of long brown hair draped over my shoulders, I finally felt like me again.

Tintin appeared in the doorway behind me and smiled at me through the mirror. "There you are," he teased, "There was this other girl here that looked like you, but she clearly wasn't you. Her hair was short and her makeup was dense enough to drown a man." He stepped towards me, lacing his arms around my waist and planting a kiss on my shoulder. "Gosh, you're beautiful."

I looked at him through the mirror and it felt as though my heart was being wrenched from my chest. What if I couldn't get out of here? What if the rest of our lives was spent in secrecy? I wanted to go home. I wanted to go back to England, where my books were, where our lives were. I didn't want to be here any longer, and it had only been a day. What if someone else bought me before he had the chance to tomorrow night? I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of having to give myself to another man. Tintin, who'd been resting his chin on my shoulder, staring at the sink in front of me, met my eyes in the mirror. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" His voice was doused in concern. I turned into his embrace as the tears turned into weeping.

"What if I can't get out of here? What if I have to spend the rest of my life selling myself to other men?"

"Oh, darling, you know that won't be the case…" His voice was a low rumble in his chest, a sound I found extremely comforting. He held me there, pressing his lips against my hair, and began to speak ever so softly. "These men will face double charges the moment we can prove them guilty of murdering those girls, for they are running a brothel. As soon as we do that, you'll be set free."

Relief floods my chest when he says this, and I give him a watery smile. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

I recount the events that happened today, when I was signing my contract to the brothel owners. "Tintin," I said softly, "When I was signing my contract this morning…I asked Aroldo what would happen to me if I didn't sign."

He looked at me as though he already was sure of what I was going to say.

"He said that either I signed, or I went to meet my maker. Is that…"

Something dark flashed through his gray eyes as he considered that his wife had been threatened by such a criminal. "Proof? Yes."

"So is that it, then?"

"Well, yes and no. Yes because you received a verbal threat from the owner of a brothel who also probably murdered two young girls, and no because there is no proof of him threatening you. For all the police are concerned, you're a scared girl who made it all up."

"What about my contract? Could that be used as evidence?"

"Nollie, if you can get one or both of the Marlborough brothers to confess to murdering the two girls as well as running a brothel, then that is truly our best option."

"Okay then, I have a plan."

I got so sentimental when I realized I finished this chapter and that the next one-or-two chapters will be my last of Tintin and Nollie's story :( I don't know about you guys, but I love to reread these stories. I just love thinking about how much Tintin and Nollie love each other, and I love to picture Tintin in these scenarios - falling and being in love with Nollie, being a hero, reading the newspaper in the morning...golly, I just love these two, and I'm so sad that soon their story will be over :( All good things must come to an end, though.

Anyway, I hope you LOVED this chapter! If you did, make sure to review/favorite/follow me & my stories! It means a lot, you have no idea :)

See you in the next chapter! :) ~DisneyPrincess55