by Tess Oliver
He grabs his shoes. "Get dressed in something nice," he commands as he heads to the bedroom. "I'll be back to get you in two hours."
"Get me?" I hurry after him. "Where am I going?"
He doesn't answer before he walks out and closes the door behind him.
25
Angie
The green dress I chose makes my skin look frightfully pale, but I'm far past giving a damn about my appearance. My face is so small, my brown eyes look like giant saucers positioned over my lips, which now, remind me even more of a clown's lips. I pull a sweater on as I circle the room for my hourly dose of exercise. It's a silly habit considering my muscles and strength have disappeared.
It seems I might very well die of starvation, yet I'd rather give up food than the nectar. I've been on the downside of its hideous withdrawals and it's a slice of hell. I doubt I even have the strength to survive complete withdrawal. All these years I've been talking so blithely to junkies, telling them they need to kick the stuff or die, like I was just asking them to change their socks. Suddenly, I'm in their shoes. It gives me a whole new perspective. Now my only advice would be don't start the shit in the first place. That thought makes me laugh. But alone in the room with no one, not even Blake to talk with, my laugh sounds hollow, invisible.
There's no knock before the door swings open. Kane is dressed in a black shirt and black jeans. He's clean shaven and polished like he just stepped out of a high-end men's clothing catalog. Physically, he's model perfect, like someone destined for a movie screen or photo layout. But inside, it seems he is as scrambled as a messy plate of eggs. He reveals so little about himself or his past to me that even though we've shared incredible intimacy, it feels as if I'm looking at a stranger.
"Will this do?" I hold out my arms. The bodice of the dress is meant to be snug but it shifts around my torso with the movement.
"You're vanishing before my eyes," he says with an edge of regret.
"I don't know how to stop it. The smoothies help but I think they went down easier when Blake was around."
He ignores my comment and walks to the vanity to pick up the leather cuffs and anklets.
"I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wear them."
He answers me by tying the cuffs onto my wrists. He tosses the anklets back on the vanity. "Just the cuffs. People in the room already know. And new visitors will soon learn." His cryptic comments are frustrating.
I pull my hand free when he takes it. "People know what?"
"That you're mine." He says succinctly and heads to the door. "Let's go."
I follow behind like a lost stray, not sure if I should follow the stranger or run from him. Only I know I have no real choice except to follow. I can hear music in the distance. When I get my bearings, I realize we are heading to one of his club parties.
"Ugh," I say with extra drama. "Not the dreaded club party. Please. I'll just wait for you in the room."
Kane reaches back and takes hold of my arm. His fingers hold me just a little too tightly. I can almost hear his teeth grinding together in his jaw. He is wound tight.
I try and pull my arm free but don't have the strength to do it. "Why are you so uptight and why the heck are you dragging me to one of these awful parties?"
He swings around and pushes me up against the hallway wall. The plaster is cold on my shoulders. My heart is pounding as he squeezes my chin between his fingers and lifts my face to his. "You started this and you need to see this through to the end, my lovely poison." His mouth covers mine. He kisses me as if it's the last kiss before we both plunge into the abyss.
My lips are already swollen from his earlier visit. His punishing kiss brings tears to my eyes. He finally frees his mouth from mine and pulls his gaze away. Again, I'm trying hard to unscramble his words in my head but the damn drug makes everything incomprehensible, especially his vague, ambiguous declarations. Kane releases me and turns to the door.
Jason is standing sentry at the entrance. Music, conversations and laughter fill the large room. I take several steps back. It's the last place I want to be. I'm still reeling from the last few minutes. Kane senses my hesitation. He reaches back, takes my hand and pulls me into the room. As always, his entrance yanks everyone's attention to the door. The music plays on but the voices have quieted. I stare down at my bare feet. I don't need to look around the room to know all eyes are on Mr. Freestone and his thin, frail possession.
Kane reaches over, pushes his fingers under my chin and unexpectedly lifts and turns my face to his for a brief kiss. As he drops his hand away, my gaze inadvertently sweeps the room. The circle of curious faces makes me dizzy. Before I can drop my face, a pair of eyes pull me back.
"Impossible," I whisper before my knees give way.
Kane's fast reflexes keep me from falling to the ground. He turns toward me, his blue eyes streaked not with worry but with hurt. I hold his shirt to keep steady and will myself to look across the room. The mirage is still there, alive and vibrant and heartbreaking and swathed in mostly naked women. His green eyes leave a lasting image in my vision even after he pulls his gaze away. And it seems to takes all of his effort to do that, to look away.
Kane presses his mouth next to my ear. "I'll get you something to eat." He turns to walk away, leaving me standing alone. The party goes on around me, rich men flirting and choosing their flavor for the night. And then, there's James Maddox. He pretends to nuzzle a woman's neck, but his eyes flick my direction, toward the thin girl in leather shackles, the boss's toy. Shame makes my gut twist into a knot. There's no music anymore. Just the beating of my heart and the thunderous sound clears away some of the fog in my head. All the emotion I have neatly and conveniently tucked away pours out in one huge tidal wave. The tears start as a trickle until they cascade down my cheeks. They drip on my chest and down the fabric of the dress. I can't stop them. People are staring, watching with curiosity.
Kane returns with a plate of food. He ignores the tears. "I've made you a plate." I hear his voice but can't make out the words. I'm only aware of one person in the room. At the same time, I'm trying not to be aware of him.
"Take me back to my room," I say weakly. "Please."
"We just got here. Eat."
I don't take the plate. The tears continue.
"Freestone," I hear a voice call from across the room. "What's this about an island?"
Kane takes the plate with him and walks over to talk to the man, leaving me alone again. If I move a step, I'm certain my legs will give way.
From the corner of my eye, I see Maddox move. I have his stride memorized. He is leading a woman out of the room. I don't turn to watch him walk out. I'm frozen as if someone has turned off my switch. The club member has chosen his partner for the night. Maddox says something to the woman as they near. I sway at the familiar sound of his voice. I want to be sitting in a hot, smelly car listening to that voice sing out songs and tell jokes and talk about his night out with the guys. I miss that voice so much the tears flow faster.
As he walks past, his hand grazes mine lightly. That's all it takes. The room spins and goes dark. The floor gives way beneath me. I land in a pair of arms. I don't need to know which arms. Maddox's all too familiar scent makes the ache in my chest unbearable.
I open my eyes. Our gazes lock for a brief second. It's all we need to exchange a million words. I'm quickly lifted away from his arms. I bite my lip to keep from calling out in despair. Kane grips me in his arms as he carries me to the door. Jason opens it and I'm whisked through and away from the party. Away from Maddox. I turn my face against Kane's shoulder to hide my anguish. But he knows. Everyone in the room saw. Kane saw.
26
Maddox
Cathy is practically skipping as she leads me along the hallway.
Every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every muscle in my body said no. Do not touch her. But the wind had been sucked out of me when I saw Angie. She looked pale and thin and nothing like the tough partner who could outrun
every person on the force. And when she was led in by Freestone, with that proprietary gleam in his eyes, as if telling the entire room that he owned her, all I could think about was charging at the asshole and choking the life out of him.
I'd gone through the scenario of finally finding Ten a hundred different ways in my head but none of them included her looking deathly pale and frail. None of them included seeing her in leather shackles and being led around and watched over by Freestone. None of them included tears.
"Here we are, sugar." Cathy waves a small key card and the door opens.
Get out of the room. Get out fast. That's the only plan that popped into my head when I saw Ten. I was expecting to come face to face with tough talking, confident, stalwart Angie. I imagined us exchanging a few of those secret glances that we'd perfected as partners. I would let her know without more than a blink that we were moving in on Freestone and to be ready. She'd return an affirmative with a blink of those long, dark lashes. But none of that happened. I needed to get out of the room before things became even more obvious.
Cathy whispered in my ear and I grabbed her hand to lead her away. But I couldn't stop myself. I needed to touch Ten, to make sure I wasn't just imagining her standing in that room looking nothing like the woman I knew. It was a huge mistake.
Cathy kisses me on the mouth, and I feign interest. She and a few of the other girls showed up to the party with new red hair color. "I was thinking we could take a bath to start." She drops her panties and the leather cuffs and is stark naked. She pushes her hands between her legs. "That nectar has me so horny right now. Standing here with you, I'm about to come just looking at ya." She laughs. "I'll go start the bath."
I nod. "Yeah sure." I see a wet bar on the side wall. "I'll just fix myself a drink and be right in."
"Help yourself," she says with a wave.
The bath water turns on and a flowery scent fills the air. I walk over to the wet bar and open the bottle of bourbon. I throw back two shots and close my eyes to feel the heat of it going through me. And for that moment, she's back in my arms. When I saw her legs collapse, my natural instinct was to catch her. I was holding her. I had Ten in my arms. Until he snatched her away. But I'll give it to the asshole, if he knows, if he figured out that there was something going on with his beautiful prize and the new club member, he didn't let on. Cool and calm was always way more dangerous than angry and tense. It might very well have been an act.
Clark was right. I was so fucking hard-headed, so determined to get Ten out of the place, I wasn't thinking straight. None of it went the way I expected. Ten wasn't what I expected. Until the fleeting moment when she was in my arms and she looked up at me, I was sure I'd lost her for good. But her gaze caught mine just long enough to let me know she wasn't gone but lost. She needs badly to be found.
Small wet hands slip up my shirt and startle me out of my thoughts. "Come on, the tub's all ready."
I do a quick sweep of the room with my eyes. Cameras. The creepy fucker has cameras everywhere. He watches everything. He knows what's going on all over his underground hell hole. I have no choice but to play along and hope that I didn't just blow this whole thing wide open.
I follow Cathy into the bathroom and do a quick visual search. No cameras. Maybe he has one decent cell in his body that tells him not to spy on them in the bathroom. Although, I doubt that.
Bubbles are floating in mounds on the surface of a giant bathtub. Cathy climbs in. I undress and climb in across from her. My play partner for the evening is going to be majorly disappointed. I can't think of anything except Ten.
Cathy's foot reaches across. She rubs her toes along my thigh. "Do you like the new color?" She fluffs her hair with her hand. "Did it just for you."
"Nice but I liked you blonde too." And then it hits me. Stupid. Fucking stupid. "I noticed a few of the women dyed their hair red."
"Yep, when everyone heard the new hot member had a thing for red heads, we all quickly added hair color to our lists."
"Lists? So you each get to order things from the store?"
"Of course. How else would we get all these nice things like bubble bath? Mr. Freestone gives us an unlimited budget. He takes good care of us."
"Does he?"
She looks baffled at first and then smiles. "You're wondering about that girl he came in with? I thought I felt that strong arm of yours tense when you saw her." She laughs. "And I guess it wasn't just cuz of her red hair since there were at least five us in the room with I Love Lucy locks. That's Tawny. She's his. She belongs to Freestone. Poor thing. Some girls react like that to the nectar."
Beneath the soapy surface my entire body hardens with anger thinking about Freestone injecting Ten with his illegal drugs. "What reaction?" I can't keep the hard edge out of my tone. Cathy doesn't seem to notice.
"The loss of appetite. They just can't eat. They start to lose weight fast. Mr. Freestone usually has to let them go. Otherwise, they get too skinny. I was sure he would have sent Tawny back to the streets long ago. It is obvious the nectar is making her too thin. But everything is different with her."
"How so?"
She poofs her lips out. "Are we really going to spend this delicious bath time talking about her?"
I force a charming smile. "Just curious about my new club, that's all."
"Well, Mr. Freestone occasionally brings in a new girl. He keeps her for himself for a few days. But only a few days. Then he sends her on to join the rest of us. But not this time." She shrugs. "It seems like he's kind of obsessed with her. At least that's what Blake told us."
"Blake? I haven't met him. Is he one of those big bodyguards standing at the door?"
"No, Blake is an all around sweetie. Not the bodyguard type, although he was pretty protective of Tawny when he worked as her personal assistant. The rest of us don't get personal assistants. But then we don't really need one." She pulls her arms out of the bath. There's a patchwork of bubbles on her skin. "As you can see, I have everything I want."
I glance around the bathroom. It looks similar to the master bathroom in the overpriced penthouse we rented for my billionaire character. "Nice living conditions."
"Nice?" she giggles. "Considering I was living in the garage of a nice old lady who felt sorry for me, it's spectacular."
"Do you have to stay?"
She purses her lips in question. "Have to? Why would I want to leave? I've got nothing out there. In here, I have my family. I'm safe. There's even a full-time nurse on staff if I get a sore throat. It's home. This is my home." Cathy seems irritated with my interrogation. Can't blame her. "And in answer to your first question, I can leave any time I want. I'm not a prisoner. If you are here for a year, you get to leave with ten thousand dollars to restart your life. I've been here for eighteen months and I'm not going anywhere."
The irony about this whole damn thing is that Freestone seems to have some scruples. He takes care of his people. A strange contradiction to the two brutal murders that brought him to the investigator's attention.
Warm water moves like a frothy wave toward me as Cathy swims my direction. "Now are we going to have some fun or are we just going to chat?" She settles snugly over my lap and presses her mouth against mine.
27
Kane
I move the mouse and click open the file on the new member. I've let my guard down again. Wanting to rid myself of the tedious task, I allowed some of the more senior club members to screen new applicants. They did a sloppy job. There are enough holes in Rick Haverton's story to raise a dozen red flags but he got through. In the end, it was my fault. The interviewing club members had reservations about the new guy but I brushed it off as envy and worry that a strikingly handsome new member would cause a frenzy with the women. I considered it a good way to fire up some enthusiasm. It sure as fuck did that and then some. But her reaction to him wasn't just a red flag, it was an entire forest fire.
Jason walks into the office.
"Is she sleeping?" I ask.
I glance up in question.
"Just want to make sure you haven't changed your mind," he says.
"Nope."
"Right." He walks out.
It shouldn't surprise me. I should have known someone would come looking for her. I sure as hell would have moved mountains if I'd lost her. And it seems that moment has come for me. I knew from the start that she would be my downfall. I have only myself to blame.
28
Maddox
I pull on my shirt and button it. Cathy is fast asleep in the bed. There's a knock on the door. I wondered when they'd come for me. The warning bell rang a half hour ago.
The door beeps and opens. It's both of Freestone's big goons. They don't look exceptionally friendly as they walk into the room. Their loud, heavy footsteps wake Cathy.
She sits up with a shriek. "Oscar! Jason! You guys are supposed to wait in the hallway."
I look pointedly at them. They stare back at me with masks of stone.
"Why do I sense that you're not here to take me to the car?"
Oscar glances quickly at Cathy before motioning slightly with his head to the door, telling me to move in a quietly aggressive way.
"Well fuck," I mutter as I walk past them.
The second Cathy's door shuts behind them, they are on me like horny fucking grizzly bears. My face is smashed against the wall as they secure my hands behind my back.
"I'm complaining to the fucking club owner about this," I say. "I was told the girls could tie me up if I asked—" A large fist shuts me up fast. My jaw snaps sideways and blood streams from a nasty gash on my chin. It trickles a bright pattern on my shirt. "I'll have you know I just picked this up from the dry cleaners."
