by Naomi West
I shook my head. “No fucking way, Micah. That’s way too dangerous.”
“And like what we’ve been doing hasn’t been dangerous? Come on, Ford, it’s our only chance to do both, especially with Daddy’s attention somewhere else. You know I’m right.”
I frowned. Yeah. I knew she was. Didn’t mean I had to like it, though.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Micah
The closer we became, the more Ford and I seemed to have to split apart. Whether it was him taking me home, us getting into the Mansion, or now this, we seemed to have to go our separate ways. But, like the previous two times, we’d come back together. I just knew it. At least, that’s what I hoped.
I gave him directions back to Daddy’s office and instructions on how to get into the safe. I’d held back the information because I figured I’d need it as a leash to keep him at my side, a sort of insurance policy so he wouldn’t go running off in his own. Now though, I knew he’d do whatever it took to get back to my side, just like I’d do the same for him.
He pulled me into his arms, careful to avoid the giant knife in my hand, and kissed me again. His scruffy upper lip scratched a little, but I got him back with my red lipstick.
“Micah,” he said, hesitating over his words for a moment. Here it came, I knew. “I . . . be careful, okay?”
I touched his cheek again as I stared up into his eyes. “You too, Ford. We’ll be fine, okay? I promise. You get the money; I’ll get Kessa. Easy.”
He nodded curtly. “Yeah.” He let me go. “Nothing’s ever that easy.”
I smiled and licked my lips a little. “No. But if it was, would it be worth doing?”
He laughed. “Guess not. Ready?”
We split up from the kitchen. I headed back the way Wilde and I had come in initially, and Ford took a right, back through food prep towards Daddy Williams’ office.
God, this was stupid. Ford was probably right. We probably should have just left and abandoned Kessa to her fate. But I knew, deep down, that I’d never be able to sleep at night if I abandoned her to Daddy Williams. No way, no how. What kind of human being would I be if I did that, if I let my only friend in the world fall by the wayside?
No. This was the right thing to do. No matter how much Ford or I disliked it.
I pushed through the swinging double doors of the kitchen and stepped back into the hallway. I took a left and headed deeper into the building without looking both ways.
“Hey!” hissed a voice behind me, a voice I recognized.
I spun around, knife raised.
“Whoa there, baby!” Wilde said, hands up in front as I whirled on him with the big kitchen blade at the ready. “Save that for someone who needs an iron supplement, kid. I’m just here to help!”
I looked up to the ceiling. “Tanner, what are you doing here?”
“Saw Daddy come back into the party just after I left, and I figured you and that guy might need some help. Besides, I wanted to give you my card.”
I groaned. “Your card? This shit’s serious, Tanner.”
“Don’t I know it? This is way crazier than in the movies. But don’t you think that means you shouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth, huh?”
I sighed. “Fine,” I admitted. “You’re right.”
“What’s shaking, anyways? What’re we trying to do?”
“My friend Kessa,” I said. “We’re trying to get her out.”
“Kessa? Isn’t she one of the last ones up? Any idea where they’re keeping her?”
I shook my head. “No. No idea. Have you heard anything?”
He thought about it for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “That’s it! I heard some of the girls on the auction block, they’re being kept somewhere where some of the buyers can go sample ’em. That’s what Daddy said when he got back in.”
That’s when it hit me. The dungeon, of course! What better place to sample your prospective sex slave than the only room in the building where you could punish them, too? “I think I know where they’re keeping her,” I said. “There’s a room down in the basement.”
“Do you know how to get there?”
I shivered as a little memory passed through me. “Yes,” I nodded. “But there’s probably going to be guards there. At least on the door.”
He nodded. “Well, let’s see what we can do.”
I nodded, smiled weakly. “Right. Let’s go.”
Together, me and the turns-out-not-so-sleazy Hollywood agent headed through the halls of the mansion till we found the hallway that led to the dungeon. The dungeon was located in one of the nicer parts of the Mansion, with waist-high vases at the corners and paintings hanging from the walls, unlike the areas around the kitchen that were much more institutional looking.
We slunk up to the edge and I poked my head around. There was one of Daddy’s men, staring down at his cell phone, the blue light illuminating his rough, oafish features.
I pulled back from the entrance. “Just one guard,” I whispered.
“Is he big?” Tanner asked nervously.
I nodded. “Big.” I didn’t want to kill the guy with my knife or anything. The last thing I wanted was blood on my hands. I glanced around the hall, looking for something I could use, and my eyes settling on the vase. “Maybe you could distract him?” I asked. “Get him to come past the hallway?”
“Distract him? Why not you?”
“Because they know who I am, and I’m not supposed to be wandering around, that’s why not.”
“Well, what should I say to him?”
“You work with actors,” I hissed. “Figure something out. Now go.”
Sheepishly, like he’d finally realized just what in the hell he’d gotten himself wrapped up in, Tanner Wilde stepped out into the hallway and headed off to the security guard. “Hey, man! Hey? Buddy? You work security here, right?”
I darted over, picked up the heavy-looking vase across the way, and hefted it in my hand. It easily weighed ten pounds or more.
“Yes, sir. I work security here. Can I help you?”
“I just heard a girl up the way, crying in one of the bedrooms, saying she was bleeding real bad, so I looked in. She was alone in one of those rooms, blood everywhere, buddy. You gotta help her out.”
“I’ll call it in, sir. Thank you.”
“No,” Tanner said. “You don’t get it. Real bad, blood fucking everywhere, man. Like, she needs help now, not later. You want a dead hooker on your hands?”
“Probably not,” the security guard grudgingly admitted. “Remember which room?”
“Sure thing,” Wilde said. “She’s down this way.”
Footsteps sounded softly as the two men came back down the carpeted hallway.
I pressed up against the wall of the hallway, trying to make myself as small as possible. I held the vase in my hands, ready to strike as soon as the security guard walked by.
“Get this kind of shit a lot?” Wilde asked as both men passed by, drawing the security guard’s attention from the hallway I was hiding in.
“A little bit. Some of the customers get—”
I stepped forward and brought the vase down on the back of his head. The ceramic container shattered like a clap of thunder, and the security guard dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Get his gun!” I hissed. “Get it!”
Tanner immediately dropped to his knees, began rummaging around in the security guard’s coat, and pulled a gun out. He looked timid as all hell with it. “What do I do with this thing?” he asked as he got back up to his feet.
“You don’t know how to use a gun?” I hissed. “I thought all men did.”
“I was raised in California, baby. Think I know how to shoot? That’s just for the movies.”
“Give it here, then. I was raised in Texas, and we have to know how to graduate high school.”
“Seriously?” he asked as we exchanged knife for handgun.
I hefted the weight of the pistol in my hand. It was a comp
osite, nothing heavy duty, but still heavier than it looked. “No, Tanner. Not really. But I do know how to shoot. You point this end right here at whatever you want to hit.”
Tanner looked down at the knife in his hand, at the way the light reflected off the sharpened edge. His face was sickly, a light green to it.
“Everything okay?” I asked, looking back down the hall to the dungeon.
“I’ve been thinking, Micah,” he said, his voice suddenly more serious than I’d heard it all night. He looked at me dead on. “I don’t think I can do this. Knocking guys out, fighting sex traffickers? This ain’t my bag. I’m not the hero type. This is the kind of gig your man signs up for, not me.”
“Get a little too real?” I asked. “Because, believe me, I understand. If you want to back out, don’t worry about me. I’m just doing this because she’s my friend and she doesn’t deserve it. No one does.”
He smiled, looked back to the knife, then down to the security guard at his feet. “You know what? You’re right. What else have I been doing with my life, anyways? Besides, this has been a hell of a rush so far.”
“Coming with, then? ’Cause this is it. No backing out when we get down there. We get caught, we’re both screwed.”
Wilde nodded, grinned without any humor behind it. He gripped the knife tighter. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
I nodded and headed down the hallway. As I did, the realization slapped me in the face like a three-day old fish. Was I really about to go down there, gun in hand, half naked, so I could try and save Kessa, and maybe some of the other girls? All with some Hollywood agent to the stars who’d just found his backbone?
Jesus Christ, this was ridiculous. Why hadn’t I just run with Ford when Daddy gave us the chance? Why hadn’t I just taken off, like he’d originally wanted?
We got to the heavy door and unlocked it.
“Ready for this?” I asked Wilde.
He swallowed, nodded. “Yeah,” he groaned, his voice still nasally.
I pulled the door open and I immediately heard Kessa crying. Sobbing as the sound of a leather lash cracked across skin. “The more you cry, Kessa,” groaned a voice, “the more I enjoy this.” Another crack. “And the more I enjoy this, the harder I hit.” Another crack, with Kessa’s muffled sobbing even louder.
Quietly, we headed down the stairs with me in the lead, my pistol at the ready. The lashing, and Kessa’s not quieter sobbing, continued till we were almost down to the bottom of the steps. As my foot creaked on the middle one, though, the lashings stopped.
“Who’s there?” barked a voice. “Huh?”
Without looking back to Wilde, I headed all the way down.
There, naked except for a pair of tight leather pants, stood an older white guy, his slight belly hanging over the top of his waistband. Chained spread-eagle to a steel cross to one side of the room, Kessa stood, her beautiful body covered in bright scarlet strips, a ball gag in her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
He turned and looked back at us, mopping a hand over his sweet-sheened bald plate. “Who the fuck are you?” he sneered, looking from me to Wilde as he dropped the leather lash to his side. “What the fuck are you doing down here? That fat fuck Williams said I had the dungeon all to myself for the next hour.” His eyes shifted to me, creeping over my form like some sick predator. “Although, sweetie, if you two wanna join in, we got plenty of room.”
I gripped the pistol in both hands and raised it in front of me, getting a bead on him.
“Hey, hey,” he said, not even bothering to raise his hands. “You know just who the fuck I am, little lady? Huh?”
I didn’t recognize him, not by his looks. But I sure recognized that voice of his. I took a deep breath, nodded. “I know exactly who are, asshole.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ford
The office was only guarded by one guy, and he didn’t take much effort since I had the drop on him. I cracked him a few times on the head to make sure he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon and grabbed his pistol from his shoulder holster, stuffing it down the back of my slacks.
I headed into the office.
Daddy Williams’ back corner was disheveled, with papers all over his big desk and piled up in the corners. Behind the desk was a huge safe with a digital keypad. The right-hand wall was more or less half a set of shelves, with videos lined up on every shelf, names printed nearly on the labels. Set up just across from the desk, within perfect view of Daddy Williams’ chair, was a monitor focused on the dungeon.
Curious, I went over and read through the names. They were all girls’ names with last names after, and the date listed. I recognized one as the chief of police, another as the mayor.
So, that was how he stayed in business. Blackmail. I glanced over to the safe. Micah had told me the combination, and I knew I could get in. As I went over to it, though, I glanced over at the dungeon monitor and got the shock of my life. Right there, in perfect color, were Micah and the Hollywood agent, who I guess had stuck around. Micah was armed now with a pistol. And who should she be pointing it at but Joseph Tambor, my loan shark?
“Dammit, Micah!” I yelled. “Just what we fucking need!” I glanced back to the safe, to my whole goal in all this. The money, of course. Whatever cash he had in there from the entry fee, I was sure to have enough to start a new life with Micah, somewhere else, somewhere far, far away from here. But as I glanced at the camera, as I glanced at Tambor approaching them slowly, easily, and Micah backing away and giving him ground, I knew she needed my help. And I realized as I watched the videotape, if she ever did make it big, that little performance we’d put on would be more than enough for some kinky blackmail.
I glanced over the rest of the shelf and was surprised to find one near the top right with two names I instantly recognized. Micah Ford, with today’s date. I pulled the tape down, stripped the magnetic tape from it, and shredded it with my pocket knife.
Frantically, I glanced up at the monitor. Tambor had backed off now, and Mr. Hollywood had started to get Kessa down from the cross she’d been chained to. I looked back to the safe, silently shaking my head. No, it would have to wait. Instead I turned back to the screen and quickly ripped the monitor from the wall, tearing the cables from the box.
No matter how the next thirty minutes went, I had a feeling no one would want any evidence hanging around.
I ran from the office, taking the twists and turns I remembered would take me back to the dungeon. I nearly stumbled across a security guard on the carpet of the hall just down the way from my destination, a halo of shattered pottery around his equally shattered head. I kicked him again and kept running.
I stopped at the top of the dungeon steps, drew my pistol, and headed down. I could hear them talking back and forth, Kessa quietly groaning as they pulled her down.
“Look, honey,” Tambor said. “I don’t give two shits about you. You can stay or you can fucking go. But, while you decide what you’re going to do, why don’t you point that little popgun somewhere else, huh? You’re making me fucking nervous.”
“Back off,” Micah said, her voice so cold she could solve global warming. “One more step.”
I slowly made my way down the steps, not wanting to startle anyone and throw sparks on this pile of tinder.
“And what?” Tambor asked. “You’ll shoot me, huh?”
I crept down into the room, barely making a sound. I got a good look at the four of them, at a beautiful but ragged-looking woman being held weakly in Wilde’s arms. Micah stood on one side, her handgun raised and ready; Tambor stood just a few feet from her between them all.
“Don’t make me do it,” Micah said. “Don’t make me fucking shoot you, Tambor.”
“Don’t think you got the cojones, little lady. I think you’re chicken shit.” He took a step forward.
I stepped forward at the same time, the bottom step groaning loudly as I landed too heavily on it.
Everyone turned their attention to me. Kessa and Wilde
both turned to me, eyes searching to see if I was a threat, and Micah’s gun wavered for a moment as her eyes shot to mine. “Ford!”
Tambor took the opportunity, though, and lunged forward, ripping the gun from Micah’s hands, knocking her aside. She flailed, tripped over her heels, and went sprawling on the floor.
I started forward to try and help her, to see if she was injured. “Micah!”
“No way, Ford!” Tambor yelled, the pistol leveled right at me. “No fucking way! One step forward, you all fucking get it! Wanna try me? You wanna try me and see who gets to go fucking first? Huh?”
