by Alexx Andria
Until I realized I really shouldn’t be packing a vibrator around like I would a tube of lipstick, so I tucked it in a drawer and forgot about it.
Because let’s be honest, what I got from that little vibe had been nothing in comparison to what Cason had given me.
Heat crawled my cheeks at the memory.
Cason’s kiss had been way better than mine.
I chewed my bottom lip, conflicted.
I was almost embarrassed by my puckered up peck.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to do what he did!
Cason didn’t even know me but he’d stuck his tongue…
Oh God, Holly, you’re obsessing.
Just stop.
Move on.
Now’s your chance to run.
That stern voice of reason cut through the jabbering nonsense and I realized if there was ever a moment, now would be the time. Unlike before, Cason was out like a light.
Ever so carefully, I slid from the bed, scooped up my clothes and tip-toed out of the bedroom, my heart beating so hard I thought it might jump from my chest.
My fingers trembled as I yanked on my jeans and tossed the shirt over my head. Seconds later I realized, I’d inadvertently grabbed Cason’s shirt instead of my own but there was no way I was going back into that bedroom to find the right one.
Cason would just have to buy another shirt.
I cleared the front door and started running barefoot down the street. If I could get to a phone, I could call my brother. Butcher would kill Cason when he found out what he’d done. Not because I was some prize but because Butcher would take Cason’s actions as an insult.
And my brother had no tolerance for insults.
My toe caught on something sharp and I stumbled to the crumbling asphalt, ripping my jeans and skinning my knee. I bit back a howl as tears burned behind my eyes but I wasn’t going to cry, not here. I climbed to my feet and started again, only this time, I had a slight limp. I scanned the street for signs of life but this place was like a ghost town.
Had Cason brought me to the moon?
This was the creepiest, most abandoned part of the city I could’ve imagined.
Great atmosphere for a serial killer to set up shop.
I rounded the corner and came to a sudden stop, unsure of which way to turn. I had no idea where I was and no way to call anyone for help. What I wouldn’t give for a payphone.
But nothing but busted sidewalks and graffiti surrounded me.
This place was where dreams came to die, I thought dismally.
Right or left, pick a direction.
I turned left and picked up my pace as much as possible.
“Oh thank God,” I breathed as I saw a black woman sitting on her front porch step, smoking a cigarette. I headed toward her, waving frantically. “Help!” I called out. “I need help!”
The woman had almond-shaped dark eyes that narrowed with interest as I half-ran, half-limped into her yard. “Whatcha doin’ white girl? You lost?”
I tried to catch my breath. “I need to use your phone. I was kidnapped last night and I need to call the police.”
“Sure honey,” she said with a slight smile, stubbing out her cigarette. “Come with me.”
I ignored every sound bit of advice that warned of going anywhere with strangers, because, I’d already been kidnapped, surely it couldn’t happen twice in twenty-four hours, and followed the woman into her place.
The stale scent of spilled beer and forgotten pizza was worse than Tito’s place, which I found shocking but I tried to hide my reaction. It didn’t seem smart to make complaints to the people you were asking help from.
A man with a pouchy belly and an oily mess of hair scratched himself as he entered the living room until he stopped short when he saw me. There was a brief, awkward stalemate as we both stared then he asked the woman, “What’s this shit?”
“She needs a phone.”
“For what?”
I answered for myself. “I know this sounds crazy but I was kidnapped last night. I need to call the police.”
“Kidnapped? You look all right to me,” he countered, shaking out a cigarette and sticking it between his cracked lips. He lit up and dragged deep. “Sometimes girls make up stories, you know?”
I stiffened. “I promise you, I don’t make up stories. Can I use your phone or not?”
The man exchanged a look with the woman. “The problem is we don’t have a phone. When we need to make a call, we go down to the Quickie Mart and use the payphone. It’s about two miles down the road.”
“So I can walk it,” I surmised, but my toe was still bleeding and my knee felt as if it’d gone through a grinder. Two miles would suck. Plus I needed to stay off the road in case Cason woke up and found me gone.
“I can take you if you want,” he offered. “Just let me get dressed. Sound good?”
Did the idea of getting into the car with the creepy dude sound good? Hell no, but I supposed by car two miles would take all of five minutes and I was desperate so I agreed.
“Thank you.”
“Juanita, get the girl something to drink. She looks parched.”
I was thirsty.
“Water would be great,” I murmured, antsy to get out of this house. I was starting to get the creepy crawlies.
Juanita shoved off the wall where she’d been stationed and sauntered into the dirty kitchen. On second thought, maybe I didn’t want to drink what came out of their tap.
I turned to glance out the grimy window, watching for Cason or Tito, when Juanita returned to thrust a glass into my hand. “Sorry, no ice.”
“This is fine,” I assured her, trying not to be rude. I took a quick swallow. There was a faint iron taste, which was probably due to the old pipes in this neighborhood, but at least it was wet.
I started to return the half-full glass to Juanita but her pointed look told me I ought to finish what was given. I gulped down the rest of the water, noting the bitterness, and I wondered if Cason would’ve been safer.
“So…is he your husband?” I ventured, trying to make conversation.
“He my man,” Juanita confirmed, watching me closely. “What’s your name, girl?”
“Holly,” I answered, running my tongue across my teeth, feeling slightly odd. I purposefully left off my last name.
“You got nice hair.” She reached out to finger the texture, as if assessing the quality. I subtly pulled away, weirded out by the observation. “Men like that color. Real nice.”
I had no response. What was the appropriate thing to say? Not that I could’ve managed anything. My tongue felt furred. I blinked as my vision blurred. I shook my head, trying to clear whatever was in my eye but it only got worse.
“Feeling okay, sugar?” The man asked as he returned, his hair slicked back, watching me with a faint grin. “You look like you ought to sit down before you fall down.”
I couldn’t think straight. I stumbled into the wall, knocking over a faded picture.
“Bitch, watch yourself,” Juanita shouted. “That was from my grand-mama.”
I tried to make it to the door but it kept getting further and further away. I reached for the door handle but I grasped thin air. Noooo, this couldn’t be happening. I was a damn college student. The dangers of date rape drugs were everywhere. You couldn’t walk ten steps without seeing some kind of flyer or poster filled with helpful tips on how to remain safe.
*Don’t leave your drink unattended.
*Don’t go out alone.
*Don’t accept drinks from strangers
But apparently, I’d totally spaced the warning that I should be leery of accepting drinks from a scary woman who lived in the armpit of Satan with her creeper husband.
“See Juanita…I told you that good things happen to those who wait. This little peach just wandered right into our laps. She going to be popular.”
Juanita smiled and nodded. “You right, baby. You right.”
The horrifying realization
that I’d stupidly allowed myself to be drugged was the last coherent thought before I fell to the floor, unconscious.
Well, Universe thanks for fucking with my sense of fair play; you suck.
Chapter 11
Cason
My lids popped open and I knew immediately, my chick had flown the coop.
I swore under my breath. I knew I should’ve tied her down.
I bounced from the bed and yanked on jeans. She couldn’t have gotten far.
Holly had no idea where she was and this was a shit neighborhood to wander around in.
Hell, that’s why I’d picked it.
Obviously, I’d underestimated Holly’s determination to escape. I’d mistakenly thought that the prissy thing would take one look at the surroundings and decide that she was better off with the devil she knew.
Way to go, Cason.
I swore at my own stupidity.
My ego had gotten in the way of common sense. Just because I’d made her come didn’t mean she wasn’t going to run the first chance she got.
Which was exactly what she’d done.
While I was dead to the world, Holly had slipped out.
Man, what happened to me?
I don’t usually sleep that hard, thanks to a shitty childhood and a mother whose boyfriends often tried to mess with me when she’d been asleep.
I slept with one eye open. Always have and always would.
But I’d crashed as soon as I heard she was out.
Best sleep I’d had in years, ironically.
I could still taste her juices on my tongue; I could smell her musk lingering on my lips.
I hadn’t even jerked off to relieve the pressure building in my sac. Although, if I had, I might’ve shot a hole in the ceiling. I was primed and ready to blow.
Even now the memory was messing with my ability to focus. I wanted her back.
Now.
Quick dialing Tito, he answered with a yawn. “It’s fucking early,” he groused. “Someone better be dead.”
“She’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Holly, you dumbshit,” I answered. “I woke up this morning and she was gone.”
“Fuck, Cason, you can’t keep track of one girl?” he teased, clearly finding the humor that I couldn’t. “Did she kick your ass or something? Maybe whip out some ninja-style Kung Fu? Did she go all Uma Therman on ya?”
“If you don’t shut the fuck up and get your ass over here, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste my boots for the rest of your life. I’m fucking serious. I need to find her.”
Tito sobered. “Calm down, Cason. We’ll find her.”
I shoved a hand through my hair. “How soon can you be here?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
The sleepy murmur of a female voice sounded in the background, groaning with disappointment and I clicked off. Whoever Tito was shacking up with, wasn’t going to be happy.
But my heart was thundering and I was pissed as hell that Holly had bolted.
Hadn’t I been considerate?
Far more considerate than I should’ve been.
I should’ve ignored her cries of pain and tied her to the toilet for the night.
Fuck.
My whole plan was going up in smoke because Holly had made me weak.
Wasn’t going to happen twice.
I would find her and when I did…I was going to put her somewhere she couldn’t escape.
Which meant, Tito’s place was no longer an option.
But no worries…I had a place I could go.
Someplace a good girl like Holly wouldn’t be caught dead in.
Now I just had to find her.
Chapter 12
Holly
I groaned as I opened my eyes. I rolled to my back when I realized my face was stuffed against a disgusting mattress that smelled of urine and other things best left unmentioned.
I never imagined things could go from bad to worse.
Suddenly Tito’s lumpy bed didn’t seem so terrible.
I clutched my pounding head, biting back a cry as a wave of nausea threatened to burble up my throat.
My eyes fought to focus and I discovered I was in a bedroom, bare of anything aside from the mattress thrown on the musty carpet.
Great, now I’d been kidnapped by a sex trafficker.
If I weren’t scared witless, I’d have laughed at the irony.
Was I wearing a sign on my back that said, “Kidnap me, please!”?
A near hysterical laugh fell from my mouth.
But there was nothing to laugh about.
I was in real trouble.
Serious, bad, fucked-up trouble.
I rose on shaky legs to look for something I could use as a weapon but the room was like a prison. The window was bolted shut with thick, black metal bars across the grimy glass.
Wiping at the tears that leaked down my cheek, I realized I’d have to go down swinging.
If only I’d taken that self-defense class, I thought with despair. But the class had conflicted with my reading time and I wasn’t going to sacrifice my precious down time with getting awkwardly sweaty in a class filled with Barbies.
Right about now, I was rethinking that decision. It occurred to me that I hadn’t put the correct priorities in place.
But I was such a sucker for a good romance novel and I’d been so excited to finally dig into the newest Kresley Cole that I don’t think it would’ve mattered if the Vin Diesel had been teaching the class.
Nothing was going to keep me from that book.
Which put me here. Alone — defenseless — and feeling pretty low.
I tried the door but it was locked.
Not that I expected anything different but…I had to try.
Footsteps came my way and I sprang away from the door, running to the furthest corner of the room. The door opened and Juanita came in, tossing some clothes my way.
“Put these on,” she told me.
“Why?”
“You do as you’re told, bitch. Put those on,” Juanita said.
“Or what?”
“Or you gonna wish you’d done as I told you.”
The threat was vague but real enough.
I reached to pick up the clothes she’d thrown at me. There was nothing to them. Lingerie? I held up the filmy negligee and balked. “I can’t wear this,” I protested, unable to imagine being squeezed into something so ridiculous. “I’m…I’m a college student…not a…”
“You what we say you are,” Juanita cut in with a smirk. “And today, you a whore. Got that?”
“This is illegal,” I said, my voice shaking. “I…if you let me go, I’ll forget this ever happened. Please.”
It was the same plea I’d offered Cason — surprise, surprise, Juanita scoffed at my offer, too.
“You a dumb bitch. You think it’s fun to slum it up? Well, you gonna find out just how life works here. We got customers who gonna love banging a redhead uppity bitch. You gonna make us some fast cash, honey. Maybe if you nice, I let you shower after you done.”
Oh God.
I was in a nightmare. “My brother is Butcher Brannon,” I blurted out in sheer desperation. “You don’t want to mess with me. My brother is crazy. Let me go and I promise I won’t say anything to him.”
“Who Butcher Brannon?” Juanita asked, not impressed. “That supposed to mean something to me?”
“My brother runs the Ice Town Rebels.”
The gang name struck a chord of recognition but Juanita wasn’t sure what to make of the information.
But instead of peppering me with questions, she turned and left, locking me in again.
I breathed a sigh of relief, if only for the short reprieve.
An hour later Juanita returned with her man. I still didn’t know his name.
He was eyeing me like a wolf slavered over a juicy sheep.
“And here I thought you was just good for whorin’. Then my lady tells m
e you’re related to someone actually important.”
I tried to remain brave. “That’s right. And my brother will cut your balls off if you hurt me.”
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds about right,” he agreed, rubbing his chin in thought. “But here’s the problem…I already got you booked, baby girl. I got money on the line. My reputation is at stake. I have to deliver.”
The blood drained from my cheeks. And here I’d thought I’d missed a bullet.
“Your life isn’t worth a few bucks,” I tried reasoning with the man. “I’m not joking when I say my brother will hunt you down and strip the meat from your bones. He’s…unreasonable when it comes to what belongs to him.”
“You belong to him?” Juanita repeated, tittering. “Twisted.”
“Not like that,” I muttered. “But I’m his only living relative.”
“So, he’d probably pay for your safe return?” the man said, thinking out loud. “Maybe even more than I could get from that sweet pussy.”
I cringed, hating the entire conversation but I had to keep it up. “Yeah, probably.” Actually, Butcher would probably just feed Juanita her man’s balls and then shoot her in the head. Or have someone else do it for him. But there was no sense in telling these creeps that. “Let me call him.”
“Ahhh, hell no, sugar. I will be handling the negotiations. These things is delicate.”
I wanted to scream but I held the urge in check.
“In the meantime, you just sit back and enjoy our hospitality,” he said with a wide grin, exposing a rotten tooth. He motioned to Juanita. “Get the girl something to eat.”
No thanks. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
So when Juanita returned with some gloppy gunk poured over a chicken fried steak, I didn’t go near it. No telling what that crazy bitch had put in the gravy.
I wasn’t taking the chance to find out.
Chapter 13
Cason
True to his word, Tito arrived fifteen minutes later, which meant he hadn’t been far.
“Who would take her in?” I asked. “Who would be willing to help her?”
Tito thought for a second, shaking his head. “This place isn’t big on Neighborhood Watch, if you know what I mean. Half the houses are abandoned anyway. The only house still regularly occupied is down the street…I think he’s a pimp of some sort.”
