“I know you don’t believe this, Amber, but I honestly did the best I could.”
Amber’s jaw dropped. “Seriously, Mama? You expect me to buy that?”
“I don’t expect anything.” Karen sniffed. “You were better off without me, and we both know it. I did you a favor by making you leave.”
Amber let out a huff. “Please. Don’t say that again. You may not have been the best mother in town, but I was sheltered and fed, never physically abused. Lots of kids have it worse. You were just tired of the responsibility.”
“I won’t deny I was tired. Seems there hasn’t been a day in my life that I haven’t been exhausted. But trust me, you were better off. I wasn’t lying about selling you to the white slavers.”
“You’re making that up.”
Karen sniffed again. “Get me a tissue, will you?”
Amber grabbed a box from the counter and slid it in from of Karen.
“I swear I’m not making it up,” Karen continued. “I had offers, and I knew what those folks were capable of. I had to get you out of my house. Out of danger.”
Amber shook her head. “You’re paranoid.”
Clearly her mother needed some medical help. She wasn’t functioning with a full deck. Had she ever? She was making things up. When she was younger, Amber had suspected Karen might be a little off her rocker, but she’d always had too much else on her mind in those days—like making sure they were both clean and fed. Looking back, her mother had sometimes suffered paranoid delusions. The thing about Thunder Morgan killing them both was probably no different.
It all made sense now. Her mother was not only an alcoholic. She was mentally ill. Amber hadn’t understood before because she’d been too young.
In a way, she’d failed Karen.
No sense going there. She’d only been a kid. She hadn’t failed Karen. And there hadn’t been anyone else in their lives who could have failed her. They’d been alone.
If Karen was on welfare, she was no doubt eligible for Medicaid. Amber would see she got a physical and mental work up before she left town.
If she left town.
Bakersville held nothing for her now. Angie no longer lived there, Catie was busy with her new baby. Judy could easily replace her at the shop. And Harper? Well, he’d made it clear where he stood.
Yet staying here in San Antonio didn’t feel right either. Too many memories—none of them good—haunted her.
“Come on, Mama.” She stood and took her mother’s arm. “Let’s put you to bed.” She led her to the bedroom.
“I thought you were sleeping in here.”
“The couch won’t kill me. I didn’t see any evidence of fleas or anything.”
“The bed is big. You can sleep in here too.”
“It’s not that big. The couch is fine. I washed all the sheets in the house earlier.”
She helped her mother lie down and pulled a coverlet over her body. On a whim, she leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“’Night, Mama.”
* * *
His stomach hurt like he’d been punched. A vile taste threatened in his throat.
The photos. They were like a train wreck. He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t stop clicking on Blake’s stupid laptop until he’d gone through all twenty-six of them.
Amber masturbating. Amber with a woman. Amber with a man’s cock in her mouth.
How could he have been so wrong about this woman?
He’d wanted to believe her—believe that she’d had no knowledge of the photos ever been taken.
But no. Clearly she was an active participant in the photos. An active participant in possibly contracting a sexually transmitted disease. Granted, she wasn’t actually having sex in any of the photos, but still…
How much had she been paid? A lot, obviously. Or maybe not a lot. Maybe she liked posing.
He had no idea.
No fucking idea at all.
And damn, that bothered him. This was a woman he had some major chemistry with. A woman he liked a lot. Thought he might be able to love.
Dear Lord, I slept with her. Thank God for condoms.
He’d been right all along. She was definitely not his type.
He handed the laptop back to Blake. “That’s her all right.”
“Told you. You still want to go after her?”
He nodded. He’d promised Angie, after all. And as much as he didn’t want to, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone involved in this getting their hands on his Amber.
Amber. Not his Amber.
“Pack some stuff. Our flight leaves in four hours. We have to get to Denver.”
* * *
Ugh. Had a herd of wildebeests stampeded over her back during the night? Amber stretched. And groaned. Maybe she should have slept in with her mother after all. Though she had a hunch that bed wouldn’t have been any better.
Besides, sleeping on this damn couch was nothing compared to what awaited her today.
Rachel’s.
Marta.
She had nothing to bargain with, nothing to say. She still didn’t even know the web site URL. She’d tried calling Blake to get it before she left town, but he hadn’t picked up his phone.
She steeled herself. She had to try. She couldn’t allow herself to be exploited any longer. What they were doing was illegal. She’d thought of calling the cops, but then it’d be splashed all over the news.
And the rodeo queen would fall.
To think, when she’d become rodeo queen, she thought she’d truly left her past behind her.
Think again, Amber.
Karen had no car. Amber whipped out her tablet and hoped like heck she could piggyback onto someone’s Wi-Fi.
Eureka. There was an unsecured network in the area. She searched the bus schedules. Nothing convenient. She sighed. She’d have to use some of her cash to rent a car. It’d be cheaper than taking cabs everywhere. She should have done it yesterday when her flight got in, but she’d thought Karen would have a car she could use.
So much for trying to save money. Now she was out yesterday’s cab fare, and she had to get to the airport to rent a damn car. The bus would be good for that at least. She could catch one in an hour.
Karen was still passed out. Amber brewed some coffee—mental note, stop at grocery store and get some decent coffee—and ate a granola bar she’d packed in her bag. Mental note—also get decent food in the house. She’d get some money from Karen later—if she had any.
Amber took a quick shower and dressed. Still Karen had not budged. She scrawled a quick note and left it on the kitchen table where she hoped Karen would see it. Then she walked to the bus stop.
In less than two hours, she’d rented an economy car and was on her way to Rachel’s.
With a giant lump in her stomach.
The hour wasn’t quite noon. Would anyone even be there? Marta might. Her heart thudded. What would she say to Marta? What was the name of the other girl who had been there that night? Marta’s roommate? She hadn’t seen her again after that night.
But Marta—Marta was always there.
Amber knew she’d still be there, at Rachel’s, feigning motherliness and making extra cash by drugging innocent girls.
Disgust—for Marta, and yes, for herself—clutched at her as she drove behind Rachel’s and parked her car. If it were possible, this block on the edge of downtown looked even seedier than she remembered.
She’d dressed modestly in jeans and a high-necked blouse. Not the best idea. Texas heat sweltered in late April. Texas heat always sweltered.
What had she been thinking?
She swallowed and gathered all the courage she possessed deep in her gut. She sure as hell would need it.
She left the car, locked it, and steamed forward.
The back door was open, as usual. It was always open for the merchants who delivered food and drink.
The back hallway was dark and windowless, much like the dancers’ dressing room. She walked
through quickly, trying hard to gain bravery as she went.
Guess she’d have to fake it.
Two male figures emerged in the darkness. Not tall enough to be Oscar, the bouncer. Oscar would still be there. He was an institution at Rachel’s. He’d been there for nearly twenty years.
Definitely male. They were talking to another man and a woman.
She slowed her walk, her heart pounding.
The images became clear.
Dear God.
Blake Buchanan. Holding the laptop containing the damning photos.
And Harper.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hi, Amber,” Harper said.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her skin tightening. Had she been shrink-wrapped? “And why the hell did you bring him?”
“I’m here as your attorney. To help you. And he has information we need.”
Amber stomped her foot. “You’re not my attorney. I can’t afford an attorney.”
“Consider it pro bono. You need me. I can’t believe you were going to come in here yourself and try to deal with this. You’re in way over your head.”
She couldn’t argue. He was no doubt right. But she had to try. She had nothing to lose at this point. What the hell did he care? He’d already told her they were over.
She let out a breath. “I can’t believe Angie betrayed my trust.”
“Angie did no such thing. I hired Chad’s PI friend to track you down. He found you in less than an hour.”
“Must be nice to have a gargantuan bank account and hire a PI whenever you please.” Yes, her tone was sardonic. She didn’t care.
“Can the crap, Amber. You need both of us.”
“I sure as hell don’t need him.” She pointed at Blake. “How did you convince him to come down here with you?”
“That’s between him and me,” Harper said. “It’s not your concern.”
“I’d say it most definitely is my concern.”
“How sweet of you to be concerned about me, darlin’.” Blake lifted his lips in a saccharine smile. “But you don’t need to be. I’m being very well compensated for my time.”
Money again. Harper Bay and his clan could buy whatever the hell they wanted.
“You can both go home.” Her voice shook a little. She steadied it. “I’ll take care of myself.”
“Can’t. I promised Angie I’d do what I can.”
“I thought you said Angie didn’t betray my trust.”
“She didn’t. But after the PI, found you, I confronted her. She started bawlin’. Was out of her head scared for you. Said she’d loaned you some money but wished she hadn’t. She begged me to come down and help you get out of whatever mess you were bound and determined to get yourself into.”
Amber said nothing. What could she say? She was in way over her head, and they both knew it.
“My sister really cares about you. She considers you one of her best friends.”
Amber gulped. Angie was a good friend. Especially in the last six months. She’d put aside her spoiled ways and become a true, caring friend.
The thought warmed her, but another thought iced the first one. Harper didn’t care. He hadn’t come on his own. He’d come for Angie.
He’d meant what he’d said earlier. He truly didn’t think she was the woman he’d thought she was. They were over.
She wanted to smack herself, beat herself up for not telling him about Blake in the first place. She’d been so scared of how he would react.
For good reason. He’d reacted exactly that way.
“You’ve had ample time for hellos and stuff. Now you all just tell us why you’re here.”
Amber recognized the voice of Leon, the general manager of Rachel’s. She moved forward out of the darkness.
“Hello, Amber,” Leon said.
He looked the same. Tall, with dark skin and hair, dressed to the nines. Next to Leon stood none other than Marta. Also tall, but light skinned. And of course, dressed to the nines.
Amber’s hands clenched into fists and her nerves skittered on end. If she were bigger and stronger, she’d take that bitch down right now.
Harper cleared his throat. “I’m an attorney from Colorado, and I represent Miss Cross. This is my…er…investigator, Blake Buchanan. We have reason to believe that someone at this establishment has been taking photos of your girls and posting them on the Internet without their knowledge or permission.”
“I assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Leon said.
“I figured as much,” Harper said. “Blake?”
Blake handed Harper his laptop.
“This, I believe, is one of your girls. A Miss Laura Lee.” He clicked. “Taryn Apart.” He clicked again. His face visibly whitened. “And this is Ambrosia Love, otherwise known as Amber Cross.”
Leon’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m not aware of that web site. But the girls are of course free to pose for any photographers they want when they’re not on duty here. A lot of our girls moonlight. There’s good money in it.”
“Amber and the other girls claim they had no knowledge of these photos ever being taken,” Harper said, “and they certainly never gave permission for them to be posted.”
“Like I said, this web site has no affiliation with this establishment. I’ve never heard of it.”
Harper turned to Marta. “How about you, ma’am? Do you know anything about this?”
“Of course not.” Her deep and accented voice melted over the words. “I trust you haven’t found any photos of me on the site?”
“That is correct.”
Amber seethed inside. Marta wouldn’t sully herself, of course. She’d just sully the other girls and pocket the money.
“I’ll admit to doing some posing during my time off,” Marta continued, “but only for reputable agencies and sites.”
The self-righteous tone nauseated Amber.
Harper let out a sigh. “You’re both answering just as I suspected. Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch. Come on, you two.”
Seriously? “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Amber said. “And especially not with him.”
“On second thought…you’re right. We need to meet with some men who aren’t so nice. You won’t be safe.” Harper handed a business card to Leon. “We’ll be in touch.”
He and Blake walked out the front door. Amber followed, her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms.
“You can’t control me, Harper Bay. This has everything to do with me. Neither of you give a damn about it. I’m the one emotionally invested here.”
In more ways than one, but he’d never know that. Harper Bay would never know she’d been stupid enough to let herself fall in love with him. For that was what she’d done.
But that was yesterday’s news. Today’s news was she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. Well, news for him—he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was either. That man would never give up on a woman because of her past—because of photos she hadn’t even known about. And because she’d wanted to have one beautiful evening with her father and one beautiful night with her man before she faced the reality of her bleak situation.
Reality hit her like a freight train. He might never believe her about the photos.
Nope, Harper Bay was not the man she’d thought he was.
Too bad her heart couldn’t accept that yet.
“Let her come along, Bay,” Blake said. “She’s right. It’s her fight.”
Harper’s brow creased. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Damn right it’s dangerous,” Blake agreed. “It’s dangerous for the two of us. But we’re going.”
“You said this guy’s your friend,” Harper said.
“Correction. This guy’s brother is my friend. Lance hardly knows me and vice versa. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“Then we’ll see your friend first.”
“Bernie can’t help us.”
“I think you’re wrong
about that. You got the URL and password from him. So that’s where we’re starting.”
Amber cut in. How dare they stand there ignoring her? “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”
“Fine,” Harper said. “You can come along to see Blake’s friend. But once we get the web site guy’s information, you can’t come, Amber. I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous for a woman.”
“Bullshit. Like you care anyway.” It was a cheap shot, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Of course I care. I’m here, aren’t I?”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t really want to talk to him anyway. At least she was going.
“I’ll drive,” he continued. “Amber, we need to move your car to a better neighborhood, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Hey, Bern,” Blake said.
“What’re you doin’ back in town?”
“Got some business to take care of.” Blake shoved his way through the apartment door.
Harper was pleased. At least the asshole wasn’t going to roll over and play dead. Yet, anyway.
“Meet some friends of mine. Harper, Amber, this is Bernie.”
Bernie was square. Stocky and nearly as wide as he was tall. Even Amber towered over him. His apartment was a typical bachelor pad. Small and a mess.
Bernie stuck out his meaty hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Harper took his hand. Sweaty palm. “Same here.”
“So what’s goin’ on?” Bernie asked.
“We need some information about Lance’s site.”
“I don’t have any information, other than what I’ve given you—the URL and the password.”
“Then we need to talk to Lance,” Harper said. “He’s been posting photos of models without their consent.”
Bernie eyed Amber. The hair on the back of Harper’s neck stood at attention. He moved between Bernie and Amber, blocking the other man’s view.
“You look a little familiar, honey,” Bernie said.
Was that saliva oozing in the corners of his fat mouth? Harper tensed. He seized Bernie by the collar. “You don’t speak to her, you hear me? She’s not your concern.”
Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five Page 11
