Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “I’m in with the guy. So in, you wouldn’t fucking believe it. But this guy is bad. Evil as they come, Carson.” I kicked the dirt with my boot and watched the dust scatter through the dry air.

  “I get that. My friend here has heard only a small part, I’m sure. Sounds like a grade-A cocksucker.”

  Leaning against the wall, I gave him what he was waiting for. “Got eyes on your girl, and I read your e-mail with your crazy fucking plan. If you want to run roughshod over me, I’m fine with it, as long as it gets me outta here, bro. And of course, I get to take all the accolades.”

  “Yeah, I know. You can have all the fame and glory. All I got to do is get the new girl out, and my wife and her buddy will be happy campers. No sweat. I’m on my way.”

  “I got to get back to my cover. Text me on my burner when you get here.”

  LYNX WAS only able to enjoy a few more days in the townhouse before Lauryn found her by the pool.

  “Time for you to go, precious one. The king is on his way back, and he needs his queen all cleaned up. Your little crush, Dane, is waiting for you by the door. He sent Ginger to pack your shit.” With an evil smirk on her face and an even more evil glint in her eye, she added, “Apparently, there’s a big party tomorrow. A few new girls are coming in and some Japanese assholes are coming to visit, so I guess we’ll be seeing you again—up on your throne.”

  Tears clogged Lynx’s throat and clouded her vision, but she kept them at bay. Squeezing her index finger into her palm, she felt a tiny flap of skin dislodge. She kept digging, needing to feel more pain. With her finger diving harder, deeper into her own flesh, she pasted on a smile.

  “See you then, Lauryn. Thanks for letting me stay.”

  Dane was at the door with Lynx’s bag in hand by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. She made her way across the courtyard with the sun at her back, but knew there were only dark skies ahead.

  Alone again in her condo, the quiet chilled her to the bone. She padded across the floor barefoot, running the pad of her thumb over her newly cut flesh.

  Sari came and went.

  Lynx drank wine and ate the dinner delivered to her door before passing out.

  Sometime around one o’clock in the morning, she heard cars arrive, their headlights beaming on the street below her apartment. Curious, she got up and sat by the window, wondering how many new girls were arriving, and if she would know any of them.

  Her heart beat faster at the prospect of seeing a friend, but then wilted at the thought of anyone she knew seeing what she’d become.

  LYNX SPENT most of the next day killing time and doing her pre-party routine.

  When Zayid arrived early at nine thirty, he reached out and tore her red silk dress right down the middle, the small scraps of outrageously expensive fabric falling to the carpet. Shocked, she tried not to tremble as he ran his hand up and down her back, his finger trailing her spine before his entire palm settled on her ass. The sound of the smack reverberated throughout the apartment, still lingering when another blow came down equally as hard.

  “What? I don’t do enough for you? You want more? You want company? You disobey me and go live in the common house?” he spat out on the third and fourth slaps.

  Pain shot through her skin and settled in her belly before her own pussy betrayed her and started to leak, soaking her tiny scrap of a thong. It had been so long since she’d felt any real emotion, Zayid’s anger was more than turning her on.

  “What do you have to say?” he screamed, his voice louder than his palm making contact with her ass again and again.

  “I was lonely,” Lynx said quickly. “Missed you, Zayid.”

  The bruising slaps ceased, and she was turned around and shoved against the wall. Zayid yanked on a condom and pushed deep inside her, pumping his cock in and out of her traitorous pussy, which was more than ready. Her shoulder bones dug into the old plaster and her legs could barely hold her upright, but she knew better than to disobey at this moment.

  When he was done, Zayid said, “Get showered and dressed. We’re going to the party, but you’re not allowed to talk to any men.” His accent was more pronounced than usual. His pulse thumped in his neck, his arteries looking like they were going to pop out of his skin.

  Good. Maybe he’ll have a heart attack.

  But there was no such luck. Lynx did as she was told and got ready for the party, smoothing her wild hair into a long braid and slipping on a yellow satin sheath dress. When she came out to greet Zayid for the second time, he wasn’t in the foyer.

  “Zayid?” she called, but heard nothing in response. She walked toward the small kitchen and was surprised to find the door to the pantry was open. “Zayid?” she called again, but there was no response.

  Looking inside the closet, she found the shelf was shifted slightly to the side. Curious, she peered around it, only to see a closed door. She ran her hand along the wood, trying to open it, but it was locked.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered. “All this time.” Not wanting to be discovered, she hurried back to her bedroom, determined to check it out tomorrow.

  A few moments later, she heard him coming from the hallway.

  “Are you ready, Lincoln?”

  “Yes.”

  “You look ravishing,” he said when he stepped back into her room, caressing her cheek. He could be so charming when he wanted to be.

  After escorting Lynx underground to the hidden lounge, Zayid deposited her in her chair. A server brought her a glass of champagne while she surveyed the room.

  Content to be alone with her thoughts, Lynx sipped her drink, the colors and textures of the room making her eyes hazy . . . until they landed on the woman in front of Zayid. With her small, curvy frame, her jet-black hair with red highlights straightened down her back, and her boobs shoved into a hot-pink halter dress, she looked oddly familiar.

  Squinting to get a better look, Lynx silently wished the other woman would turn around so she could see more than her profile.

  “I HATE this shit,” I said into the phone, stretched out on my couch with a bottle of Jack in hand.

  “Dude, you have to calm down. I’m here. I’ve made contact with my guy. He’s cool, and working our cover,” Carson said. “And ditch the booze. You sound like shit, slurring your words. Dry out and put some clothes on.”

  “How the hell do you know I’m not wearing clothes?” I stared down at my bare chest and the boxer briefs hanging low on my waist.

  “Because I know you. Do you want me to call Asher?”

  “No! Don’t call him. He’ll just ream me out for what we did. You know how he is with his girls.”

  I stood and headed to my bathroom to flip on the shower, letting steam fill the room while finishing my call.

  “Then get your sorry ass to work, and leave this to me.”

  “Okay.”

  I hung up and showered—too stressed to even jack it—and went to work.

  Wearing my standard jeans, track jacket, and Air Force 1s, I made my way up to the front of the club, wanting to see how the door was running. That was my first mistake.

  “Sampson,” I told him, “stay away from me. I know you meant well, but you shouldn’t have gotten involved. Just keep a distance, and we’ll be fine.”

  One look at my face, and he said, “Yes, boss.”

  My second mistake was not staying long on the club floor. Like a baby, I went into my office and sulked, memories hemorrhaging in my brain.

  It had been one of those rare cold days in Sin City, and Lynx and I had stayed in bed most of the day. I had no clue as to why, but my condo had a gas fireplace in the master suite. I’d turned that baby on . . . and we made love all day.

  Lynx was between semesters and had taken the day off to be with me. All day. It was before Natalie knew about us, or Asher had mucked everything up for the millionth time. We’d been in our own little cocoon for twenty-four hours.

  I ran my hand up and down her smooth back, the tips of her b
raids nearly touching her ass. I moved them out of the way and let my hand wander over the crack and around the round globes. She was perfect for me. I hadn’t told her I loved her, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to. The words had been on my lips for weeks. There was something about this jewel of a woman that was made for me.

  But her life was fucked up, and I guessed that was why I didn’t say it. Was she ready to hear it then? Probably not, but I fucking said it anyway—when I’d been balls deep inside her, gliding in and out slowly, shadows from the flames flickering against the white walls, and all the Sin City bullshit outside my big windows.

  My voice had been hoarse and broken when I said, “Love you, Lynx.”

  Her eyes shot to mine, and small golden embers crackled inside the deep mahogany of her irises. “Michael . . . Big Mike loves me?” She ran her nails down my back and up again while she teased me.

  I didn’t answer, only kissed her hard, quickening my pace and showing her how I felt. Later, when we were cleaned up and lay with our legs tangled on my bed, she’d said, “I’m starting to care for you way more than I should, but I can’t stop it.”

  That was how we left it for a while until I’d moved to Florida and begged daily, using my love as a convenient reason as to why she should leave her way of life behind.

  Now she’d left me behind, and I’d created even more damage in the wake. I cared for another woman, but couldn’t give her my heart. I’d hurt Marta, set her free, and then brought her into this like an awful fucking pig.

  Carson had put his life on hold for me, left his wife alone with their family to help me. Sampson had meant well, and now Marta had gone to the other side of the earth for me and put herself in harm’s way.

  And me? In my ultimate moment of feeling low, I called Asher.

  “You what?” My closest friend screamed at me, and I pictured his eyes bulging out of his head and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather pants.

  “She insisted on it. Carson agreed.” I banged my head into my desk and ran my hand over the back of my neck.

  “Jesus fuck, Mike. I thought you were calling to let me know about our fucking hotel. Now you tell me you sent one of our girls . . . the one you were fucking not long ago . . . to the Middle fucking East to find the last girl you were banging and supposedly in love with? That’s what you called to fucking say? Fuck, fuck, fuck you.”

  I lost count of how many times he said fuck, but even I knew it was too many for Asher.

  “I know I’m fucked, no matter what.”

  “I’m hanging the fuck up now and coming to you. When I get there, we’re going to figure out how the fuck to get our girls back. I’m gonna have to tell Petey what you did, because he’s gonna have to haul his ass here and watch Vegas for me. I got so much fucking cash coming in . . . big conference week here . . . I can’t trust anybody but family with this kind of ching.”

  I leaned back and in my chair and breathed deeply. “He knows. I’m pretty sure Lila filled him in.”

  I heard Asher kick something through the phone.

  “This is my empire, you little shit. Who the fuck gave you permission to take over? Send my girls off on dangerous missions? I guess Lila is the new boss-woman?”

  I contained my laughter. He knew damn well she was the boss.

  “We wanted to leave you out of it,” I explained, but that was only half the truth. We knew he’d be pissed, so we didn’t tell him.

  “Natalie! Get in here and listen to what Mikey’s doing now, all because of your girl. Yeah, I know, babe, I know she took care of Quinn, but this is so fucked up.”

  Shit.

  “I gotta go, Mike. See you as soon as I get there. Better be ready.”

  He disconnected the call before I could even respond.

  Before I could breathe again.

  AS SHE sat sipping her wine on the chaise, her long legs extended and the top swells of her breasts on display, Lynx’s mind wandered.

  Why did this new woman look familiar? And where did the secret passage in her apartment lead?

  Every so often, she’d look up at Zayid and smile as if the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow without him, but her head wasn’t in the game. So much so, she barely registered him standing to leave. He didn’t offer Lynx his hand, but instead made his way toward the new girl.

  Lynx pretended not to stare and tried not to squint, but damn if she couldn’t figure out how she knew her. She was more consumed with how familiar she felt than the fact her man was leaving without her.

  Catching herself, she schooled her expression. If Zayid read any of her actions as being anywhere along the continuum of jealousy to outright disrespectful, she’d pay. Even if he wasn’t paying her any mind.

  Lynx remained impassive as she watched him take the new girl’s hand and bring it to his leathery lips, placing a kiss on her dark skin. She could almost see his body twitching with excitement.

  As they left the party room, no one cared. The liquor continued to flow, the music beat almost as heavy as the sexual tension working its way among the visiting men. They took in their fill of looking and caressing any woman they wanted, anyone except for Lynx, who still sat quietly next to Zayid’s empty chair.

  Security opened and closed the door for Zayid and his new favorite flavor before resuming their positions in the corners of the room. With nothing else to do, Lynx continued to drink her wine, licking her lips and sighing privately. Looked like she was done for the night.

  After only a few beats of relaxation, the door opened again and Dane appeared from the hallway. Wearing his usual frown, he walked directly toward Lynx.

  “I’m going to take you home now, Lincoln. Leave your drink,” he said as he bent down near her ear. He stood and offered his hand to help her up.

  She gracefully placed her palm in his and stood, smoothing her dress with her free hand before swishing her hair behind her neck. She’d been leaving her hair down and free lately, but all of a sudden wanted to busy her hands making braids.

  “Does Zayid know you’re taking me?”

  “You’re really gonna ask that?” His voice was gruff and curt, making the short hairs on her arms stand on end.

  “I was only asking. I usually leave with him after the party, and he’s not in the mood to be upset.”

  “New flavor, babe.”

  She only nodded and kept her gaze in front of her, but she couldn’t help the tiny smile lifting her lips.

  Outside, Dane opened the door to a darkened Range Rover.

  “No tunnels?”

  “Nope. Driving you tonight. Per Zayid’s orders, so get in.”

  She did as he asked and slid into the backseat of the SUV, her dress riding up, exposing her thigh in the moonlight. The leather was soft against the back of her bare legs. When Dane turned the key to the engine, cool air drifted from the vents.

  She rested her head against the window and watched the palace grounds shrink in the distance. Tears of relief pooled in the corners of her eyes. She wouldn’t be a victim to Zayid’s needs this evening. It was a reprieve she’d never imagined being so happy about, but he’d become a little too rough lately, a bit too mean, almost menacing. She’d thought there was no way out of her own mistakes, but the dark beauty with the light eyes gave her a gift . . . a moment’s peace from his evil hands and breath.

  Oh no, here she was rejoicing. She didn’t have to put up with Zayid when this stranger—who looked so familiar—was now stuck attending to his every whim. She shouldn’t be so happy, yet she couldn’t help but feel grateful.

  Lost in her thoughts, Lynx didn’t realize they had driven well past her residence.

  The car jerked and swerved into traffic, forcing her to look up and see they were now close to the city center. A prickle of apprehension crept up her spine.

  “Where are we going?” She wasn’t a pushover or afraid to ask Dane. After all, he had proven he could be won with a flash of her smile and a quick peek at her tits.

  “Ho
me,” he said, not turning around or even glancing her way in the rearview mirror.

  She stared at the back of his bald head, the blinking lights of the city reflecting off his smooth skin. Lynx was no fool. She wasn’t falling into a trap or saying something she’d regret.

  “I live near Zayid in the apartment. He won’t be happy if I’m not in the apartment.” Beads of sweat formed at the base of her neck, and she could feel her hair curling.

  “Home, home, Lynx.” This time, Dane flashed her a quick glance in the rearview when he used her real name, and turned the vehicle into the valet circle at a luxury hotel.

  “Excuse me? Who do you think you are?”

  She wasn’t getting out of this car. She might despise Zayid, but she’d asked for this life. As her mom used to say, “I made my bed, Lynx, and someday, so shall you.” Lynx had made her bed, and for the most part, it was a comfortable one . . . and she needed to find Sammy for more reasons than anyone knew.

  “I’m taking you home. Your friends miss you,” Dane said, interrupting her wandering thoughts.

  She shook her head. “I live here.”

  Dane leaned over the headrest and lasered his eyes on her. “I know it’s confusing. A touch of Stockholm or something, but we can’t sit here and chat forever. I’m getting you the fuck out of here, putting my job on the line, and now I gotta get the decoy out of there too.”

  “What?”

  “You need to go up to room 349. Act like you’re staying here.” He shoved a fur shawl back toward her. “Wrap yourself in this and go. A guy named Carson is waiting for you.”

  “No! I can’t go back with Carson. He’ll tell . . . Michael. No!”

  “Who the fuck do you think sent Carson traipsing around the world?”

  Lynx continued to shake her head, murmuring, “No. No. I can’t go.”

  “Darlin’, I haven’t been sweating in this dusty hellhole for the fun of it. I’m getting you out of here. No offense, but this shit is kind of illegal, whatever you’re doing over here, your pimp back home introducing you ladies. I’m gonna handle the whole thing after I get you back on American soil . . . which, if I don’t do it soon, we’re fucked. When Zayid realizes you’re not in the apartment, he’ll freak the fuck out.” His eyes begged her to understand, small crinkles forming in the corners.