by Leigh, T. K.
She wasn’t yet sixteen when she first met her. She was sweet and had just lost her mama. Jolene had told Rosa all about how Mr. Falconi was a friend of her mama’s and was granted custody of her until she turned eighteen. She seemed so excited to be able to live in the glamorous hotel on Michigan Avenue that Falconi used as a front for his less than legitimate businesses, mainly gambling and forced prostitution. Rosa had her doubts from the beginning, the girl’s sparkling blue eyes reminding her of a ghost from years ago. Then poor Jolene turned eighteen and her life changed forever. She was forbidden from ever leaving the hotel again, locked in his suite. And it had been nearly ten years.
She had helped a few other girls escape in the past, but never the boss’ girl. They said it couldn’t be done, but Jolene was sweet and the other girls wanted her to be free. Now, she almost was. Once that bus left the station outside of Chicago with Jolene safely on board, she would finally be free…something she hadn’t experienced in over a decade.
Rosa saw a tall black man walking, determined, toward the car, thankful to see her husband clutching the bus ticket in his hand. He opened the door, his breathing labored from the adrenaline coursing through his body.
“Everything go okay?” she asked.
“I suppose, if your idea of okay is half of your boss’ men stopping everyone inside that place.”
Rosa’s eyes flashed toward the brightly lit building. “How did they figure out we’d be here? We chose this station for a reason, just in case they caught on. I was certain they’d check the one downtown first.”
“I don’t know, but they’re questioning the ticket agents about whether anyone has seen her. They have her photo, for crying out loud! This could be bad.”
“I don’t have any other choice,” a sweet voice rang out from the back of the car. “I can’t go back there,” Jolene sobbed. “Never again. I would rather die than have to…”
“Hush, Jolene, baby,” Rosa said, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “We’ll get you on that bus and out of here.”
Patrick glanced at his wife. “Rosa, it’s only a matter of time until they put the pieces together and realize we were behind all of it.” His voice was full of concern…and fear. “Are you sure this is a smart idea?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “It’s the least I can do.” A tear fell from her eye just thinking about what all those girls were forced to endure. “How would you feel if that was our daughter? Wouldn’t you want someone to help her?”
Patrick hung his head in defeat. “I certainly would.”
“Okay, then. Let’s do this. You got the wig on, baby girl?” Rosa asked.
“Yes. I’m ready,” Jolene responded, thankful that Rosa had thought of everything. She had packed some clothes from the lost and found at the hotel that fit Jolene perfectly. She had also grabbed an auburn-colored wig from her sister’s hair salon that looked more natural on her than the blonde hair she was forced to have to make him happy. That’s what he liked on her. Blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Okay, Jolene, baby, you know I love you. And I’m going to miss our chats, but you need to get far away from this city. I don’t ever want to see you again, you hear?” she choked out through her tears.
Jolene nodded, trying to stay strong. She was so thankful for everything that Rosa had done for her. She never thought she would be free, and here she was, seconds away from never having to bend to another man’s will for the rest of her life.
“Thank you, Rosa.” She climbed out from under the blanket.
Rosa glanced back and the two women shared a look…a look that said everything Jolene wanted to, but didn’t have nearly enough time to utter.
“Go, baby girl. Live your life and don’t ever come back to this awful place.”
Jolene wiped the tears from her cheeks and crawled out of the car.
Patrick accompanied her the short distance to the bus, turning to face her just outside of the door. He scanned the area for any suspicious activity, knowing that not only her life was at risk if they were caught.
“Here you go.” He handed her a ticket. “Stay safe. And, as much as you may want to, do not let us know where you end up. There’s an e-mail address on the back of the ticket. If you want to let us know that you made it somewhere and are safe, that’s how you do it. Other than that, do not contact anyone directly. Do you understand?”
Nodding her head, she bit her lower lip, wishing she would be able to talk to one of the only friends that she felt she had, but she knew she couldn’t. Once she arrived somewhere, she had to stay hidden. It was the only way.
She looked down at the ticket, wondering where she was headed. Miami, Florida. At least she was going somewhere with no snow. Flipping the ticket over, she made out the e-mail address.
“Last call for Miami!” a man sounded on the intercom.
“Get going now,” Patrick said. “Remember, don’t take the bus to the end of the line. Get off somewhere before the final destination. It will increase your chances of never being found.” He held out his hand for Jolene to grab on to so he could help her up the stairs.
She stared at it, slowly stepping back, a look of trepidation in her brilliant blue eyes.
Patrick shook his head and watched as she boarded the bus, wondering why every one of the girls he had helped escape cowered in fear of being touched. He could only imagine what they had suffered through to cause that reaction.
Less than a minute later, the doors closed and the bus turned out of the station with Jolene on it, heading south and away from all the horror and misery of the last decade of her life.
~~~~~~~~~~
SENATOR DAVID MURPHY DISCREETLY left Falconi’s luxurious Landmark Hotel on Michigan Avenue, making his way down the dark side alley where his driver was to pick him up. No one could know that he spent tax dollars going to the hotel, not when he had an apartment in the city that the taxpayers already provided him. People would get suspicious as to why he spent so much of his time there. He was a happily married man, after all. A scandal like this would ruin his career, especially when his entire campaign platform was based on re-instilling family values and the sanctity of marriage.
Some would say he could be called a hypocrite, but he was a man… A man with needs that had gone grossly unsatisfied most of his life.
When running for state office, his advisor recommended he start a family. He hated having to date and play the sweet, caring individual. That wasn’t who he truly was. But voters loved a family man, so that’s what he became, although he couldn’t remember the last time he played catch with his son, or had a pretend tea party with his daughter. And his wife… Well, they hadn’t been intimate in years. She wasn’t nearly as adventurous as he needed.
He was thankful to have met Anthony Falconi early on in his political career at a fundraiser for an organization fighting against human trafficking. Falconi was a deeply religious man and contributed a substantial amount to his campaign. One night after his victory party for winning the race for state office, David enjoyed quite a few drinks with Falconi. Rather drunk, Falconi invited him up to his penthouse. That was the first time he saw Jolene. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Once she turned eighteen a decade ago, he had been returning to Falconi’s Chicago Landmark Hotel as much as possible for her, even after he won election to the U.S. Senate and was supposed to be in the nation’s capital, expected to participate in mundane tasks such as solving the country’s budget issues.
On that warm Chicago night in June, David made his way back to his government car, thinking about the immense pleasure he felt every time he had Jolene tied up and could do with her what he wanted…what he needed. He was startled when he heard the service door open and close loudly, followed by an echoing “Hush.”
He slowly turned around, not wanting anyone to be alerted to his presence.
“Come on, Jolene, baby. Free and clear, honey girl.”
His eyes grew wide. What was going on? Someone was helping his Jolene get out of
the hotel? The girls never left. They weren’t allowed. He knew all too well what kind of operation Falconi was running and he supported it one-hundred percent, as well as the various charities that Falconi had established to prevent the very thing he was involved in. Senator Murphy didn’t blame him for it. Falconi was a businessman, plain and simple. He saw a marketable need and he catered to the very distinct tastes of wealthy men. But Jolene… She was his. Senator Murphy felt a connection to her that he never had with any other girl, and it wasn’t just because he had mortgaged his house in order to pay Falconi to be her first. Money well spent, he thought to himself.
His heart raced when he saw the head of housekeeping hide the tall, leggy blonde in the back seat of a station wagon. He clenched his teeth and fists, his blood spiking in rage and anguish at the thought of never being in the presence of Jolene again. Never listening to her sweet voice beg for mercy when she had misbehaved. Never getting his dick hard from the look of fear she had in her eyes. He needed Jolene in his life. She couldn’t get away.
“Where to, senator?” his driver inquired.
Shaking his head, he snapped out of his thoughts, desperation taking over. “Follow that car. The run-down station wagon.”
“Yes, sir.”
The government Town Car turned off the alley onto Michigan Avenue, driving the streets of the city that David had called home for years. The Chicago skyline transitioned from magnificent hotels to smaller apartment buildings, most of them decrepit and in need of serious repairs. For the duration of the long drive, he made sure to keep the station wagon in his sight. His vision was a little blurry from all the scotch he drank earlier in the evening, but he had a mission. Follow Jolene. The thought of losing her sobered him up quite a bit.
After driving for a little over an hour, the car eventually pulled into a bus terminal.
“Stay close, but don’t make it obvious,” David instructed.
“Yes, sir.”
He watched for several moments while the station wagon remained in a secluded area of the parking lot, an older black man getting out and running toward the station.
Almost immediately, he noticed a few of Falconi’s men pull into the station, as well. They looked frantic as they held up a photo, approaching nearly everyone. David’s mind turned calculating, thinking they must have realized that Jolene was missing and were looking for her, too. If Falconi’s men knew that she was in a station wagon in that very parking lot, they wouldn’t be questioning transients about whether they had seen the girl. This presented a golden opportunity for him. Instead of calling Falconi and having him forever in his debt, he had a new course of action. Follow her, and get what he always wanted… Jolene all to himself. He was giddy with excitement over the thought as he observed the black man walk Jolene, wearing an atrocious wig, to a bus.
As the bus drove out of the station, he looked at his driver. “I hope you’re ready for a road trip. Follow that bus.”
“Yes, senator.”
~~~~~~~~~~
ANTHONY FALCONI WAS STARTLED awake with a pounding headache in the middle of the night.
“Jo-Jo Bear! Bring me some aspirin!” he yelled out, wondering what kind of party he had with her the night before that would cause the room service tray to be dumped all over the floor. And if it was a party, how come he had no memory of it? The last thing he remembered was having a drink with that sleazy Senator Murphy after he had finished with Jolene and escorted her back to the suite. Once he had said his good-byes to the senator, he settled down in his suite for a late night snack, courtesy of one of the room service attendants.
“Jolene?! What did I just say?!” he shouted, his temper beginning to flare. He listened and didn’t hear anything other than the whirring of the air conditioner in the suite.
Groaning, he raised himself off the couch, going in search of Jolene. “What the…?” His eyes scanned the guest bedroom, looking for any trace of the blonde-haired angel that should be in that room.
He ran to the door of the suite, his heart dropping when he found his two security agents were nowhere to be found.
“JOLENE!!!!” he thundered, not caring that he may be waking up some high-paying clients at that moment. It didn’t matter. Jolene was gone. And someone was going to have to pay for that.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
When I was growing up, I always participated in a summer theater program for middle school and high school aged kids. I think that’s where my love for all things dramatic has stemmed from. After I graduated high school, I went on to college to study music. But every summer, I returned home, having been lucky enough to be asked to join the staff of this theater program as its music director. And it was a position I held each summer until I started law school, encouraging kids to step out of their comfort zone for six weeks of their summer vacation. Each and every kid that I taught will forever have a place in my heart… One in particular.
Several years ago, I got an e-mail from the woman that had directed alongside me, telling me that one of the students that I taught had committed suicide. It was his senior year of high school. I never found out the details, but it was definitely a shock to me. He never had the lead in any of the plays, but that never stopped him from joining in on all the theater games we used to play. That made me realize that you never can tell what’s going on in someone’s life, despite outward appearances.
The same is true for so many people out there. I know this book may not have the happily ever after you all crave, but Cam’s story goes on. And Marley’s does, too, through Cam. This was a story that I needed to tell, to make people think twice before judging someone. To make people realize that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to talk about your past, no matter what.
I’ve been navigating this crazy author world for the past year and, with every book, the number of people I need to thank increases. First and foremost, a big thank you to my wonderful beta readers… Lynne Ayling, Karen Emery, Lea James, Natalie Naranjo, Natasha Rochon, Stacy Stoops, and Kimberly Twedt… Thanks for taking the time to read through this book. I know the subject matter isn’t the easiest to deal with, so I appreciate all your feedback. I promise the next book will be much lighter.
A big thanks to my street team, my very own angels, who go above and beyond in spreading the word about my books. Alexis Brodie, Anna Kesy, Brenda Mcleod, Cecilia Ugas, Cheryl Tuggle, Christine Davison, Chrissy Fletcher, Cindy Gibson, Claire Pengelly, Crystal Casquero, Crystal Solis, Crystal Swarmer, Danielle Estes, Donna Montville, Eann Goodwin-Giddings, Ebony McMillan, Erika Gutermuth, Erin Thompson, Estella Robinson, Jamie Kimok, Janie Beaton, Jennifer Goncalves, Jennifer Maikis, Jennifer Patton, Jessica Green, Joanna Haskins, Johnnie-Marie Howard, Katharine Cordy, Kathryn Adair, Kathy Arguelles, Kathy Coopmans, Kayla Hines, Karrie Puskas, Keesha Murray, Kim King, Kimberly Kazawic, Kimberly Twedt, Lea James, Lindsey Armstrong, Lori Garside, Lori Moore, Marianna Nichols, Meg Faulkner, Megan Galt, Melissa Crump, Melissa Miller-Mattern, Melissa Stickney, Natasha Rochon, Nicola Horner, Nicole Chronister, Pamela McGuire, Rachel, Fowler, Rachel Hill, Shane Zajac, Shannon Baker-Ferguson, Shannon Palmer, Shayna Snyder, Sherri Stovall, Stacy Hahn, Stefani Tabakovska, Stefanie Lewis, Suzie Cairney, Sylvia Chavarin, Tabitha Stokes, Theresa Natole, Tiffany Reid, Tiffany Tyler, Tricia Crouch, Tracey Williams, Victoria Stolte, Yamara Martinez… Thanks for all you do for me!
To my parents and sisters… My amazing family… Thanks for providing me the inspiration, motivation, and the love of reading, without which, none of this would have ever been possible.
To my editor, the amazing Kim Young… Thanks for the time and effort you spent on this book. I know this one wasn’t an easy subject matter for you to work on. I promise, the next book will be full of laughter instead of tears.
To my husband, your unyielding support means the world to me. I love you… To the moon and back.
Last, but by no means least, to my readers. Thanks for all your love and support over the past year. I never imagined that ten people
would buy my books so the fact that my stories have spoken to you on some level is truly humbling. Thanks for the past year. Here’s to many more years to come.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
T.K. Leigh, otherwise known as Tracy Leigh Kellam, is the USA Today Best Selling author of the Beautiful Mess series. Originally from New England, she now resides in sunny Southern California with her husband, dog and three cats, all of which she has rescued (including the husband). She always had a knack for writing, but mostly in the legal field. It wasn’t until recently that she decided to try her hand at creative writing and is now addicted to creating different characters and new and unique story lines in the Contemporary Romantic Suspense genre.
When she’s not planted in front of her computer, writing away, she can be found running and training for her next marathon (of which she has run over fifteen fulls and far too many halfs to recall). Unlike Olivia, the main character in her Beautiful Mess series, she has yet to qualify for the Boston Marathon.
