by Zoey Parker
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m not so sure I wanna do this.”
I looked at Jenny and tried to hide how crazy she was making me. I didn’t wanna scare her off.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” She looked at me with wide eyes. All the confidence she had at the bar was gone. Now she really reminded me of the kid she was supposed to be. I wanted to tell her to keep that scared tone in her voice when she talked to him, but I didn’t wanna scare her even more.
I clenched my jaw to calm myself down before I said anything else. “He can’t do anything to you. He won’t even know who you are. Believe me, when you walk in and he takes one look at you, he’s gonna shit his pants.”
“I might shit mine first,” she muttered.
I turned away to keep her from seeing my smile. “Well, I don’t think he’s gonna wanna use you if you go around shitting yourself.” I grinned at her, and got a smile, at least. It was better than nothing.
“I’m telling you, it’ll be fine. All you have to do is go in and tell him your name. That’s it. I promise they won’t even ask for ID, but if they do, tell them you don’t have it on you. They won’t even care. All I need is for you to go in there and get Gareth to say he’ll use you. You make sure to remind him you’re underage. That’s it. Then you can leave.”
She thought about it again, chewing on her lip and staring out the window. Her knee bounced up and down. She tapped her fingertips along the inside of the door.
“All right,” she breathed. “Let’s get it over with.”
“You sure the wire is secure?” I asked.
She looked down her t-shirt, to where she had fastened it between her tits. “Yeah, it’s good.”
I turned on the receiver and turned up the volume. “Say that again.”
She dipped her head down, toward the mic. “It’s good.”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that. Be normal.” She said it again, this time without bending her head down. She sounded clear.
I looked out the windows to confirm that my guys waited at both corners of the block Gareth’s clubhouse sat on. A lot of MCs kept to themselves and worked sorta outside town, but Gareth didn’t care. His clubhouse sat in the middle of the street, across from a bank and a post office. I had to give him a little credit for his balls.
She looked out the window at the building. “And you’ll still give me a thousand dollars?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” She got out of the car without looking back and walked down the street to the front door of the clubhouse. I watched her swinging her hips and couldn’t help smiling. Gareth would lose it when he saw her body. All he could see were dollar signs, though. And she would bring a big price.
If he went for the lie. I hoped his greed would get in the way of his common sense, and he wouldn’t ask too many questions. Then again, it might not have been a good idea to find out too much. He could at least pretend he didn’t know anything about her—that she had lied to him.
Thanks to the wire, he wouldn’t be able to pretend.
She muttered to herself as she walked. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t.”
“Stay cool,” I said. “God, just keep it together.”
I hated losing sight of her, but eventually she walked in. I realized I was holding my breath. I hoped she was quick about it—or that they were. When I couldn’t keep an eye on her, I got nervous. I didn’t want to admit it before she walked away, but the feeling was there once she did.
“Just in and out…in and out…” I heard her clearing her throat and muttered instruction to her like she could actually hear me.
“Hey,” she said. Her voice even went up a little—I didn’t tell her to do that. She was dedicated to getting it right.
“Can I help you?” A female voice.
“Yeah, uh, I need some money, and I heard you guys help girls like me make it.” Good line. Smooth.
“Okay. I can go back and get one of the guys to talk with you about it—”
“Oh, um, I heard the guy’s name is Garrett, or Gareth, or something. My friend told me he was the one to talk to.”
“Yeah, well, he’s kinda busy right now.”
“Okay, well, I wanna do this, but I have to talk to the right person about it. It’s not like I’m buying a dress or something.” Good girl.
“I get it,” the other woman said. “I’ll tell him you want to see him. Be right back.” I heard heels on a hard floor, so the woman was walking away.
“So far, so good,” Jenny whispered.
“Stop talking to yourself,” I said. I wished she could hear me. The next time I did surveillance, I’d make sure the person I sent in had an earpiece.
I checked out the street. My guys were still waiting at the corners for my signal. If things went south, I would lean on the horn, and they would go in. It wouldn’t be safe, no matter what, but I couldn’t leave a civilian in there alone.
“Gareth will see you.”
“Be cool,” I said. “Be cool, please.” I closed my eyes with my fists against my forehead, wishing I could be in there with her. Not being able to do anything was driving me crazy.
I opened my eyes to find people walking around the street like nothing was happening. They could do that. Most people had no idea the sort of shit that went down all around them every day. They didn’t know I just sent an unarmed girl into an MC clubhouse.
“Hi,” I heard, and my blood ran cold. His voice. He was right there, across the street from me. All I had to do was go in and…
“Hey. I’m here to ask about the auction.”
“What makes you think there’s an auction?”
“I heard about it from a friend of mine. She knew I needed money, and word gets around.”
“So you need money?”
“Yeah. I need to get out of my parents’ place. I need to move away. It’s so shitty there.”
Gareth snorted. “Been there.” Then he went quiet. I imagined he was looking at her like a piece of meat. “Did your friend tell you what we need from you? Who we need you to be, I mean?”
“Who you need me to be?”
“A virgin. Are you?”
She giggled. She could be an actress, easy. “Yeah. Not something I like getting around, though, so don’t tell my friends. They’ll think I’m a prude.”
Gareth laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, your friends don’t know how much money virgins can make. Won’t they feel like assholes for giving it up to some jerk they met at school?”
“So I can make a lot of money? That’s true?”
“Oh yeah. I just had a girl make thirty grand the other night.”
“Thirty thousand dollars? That’s crazy!”
“And you’re younger and prettier than her, too,” Gareth added. I bristled at the way he talked about Michelle. Jenny was younger, but not by as much as he thought she was. That was okay, since I wanted him to think it. I just didn’t want him to talk about her or even think about her. She was too good for him.
“So you think I could make money at it?”
“Oh, sure.” He sounded like such a sleaze. I could almost hear his dick getting hard.
“When’s the next auction?” Jenny asked. Good, good, I thought, listening hard. Get all the information like you really need to know.
“In a week,” he said. “At our warehouse on the docks.”
“How many guys show up? How many girls do you usually auction off?”
“Plenty of men, but they’re all high-class guys. They have the money. It’s word-of-mouth—and we only let in the best. I mean, it’s not like we can place an ad or anything. The people who know only talk about it with the people they know, if you get what I mean. Friends at their level.”
“So, rich?”
“Sometimes.” He chuckled.
“Old?”
That question, he didn’t answer as quickly. �
��Ehh, sometimes older. Sometimes younger.” I remembered some of the men I saw at the last auction and shook my head at the way he was bullshitting her. Odds were whoever bought one of the girls was at least twice their age.
“And I don’t get any say in who I go with?”
“That’s just not how it works. They win, they get you. I can’t ruin my rep just because a girl isn’t turned on by the man who wins her.”
“I get it.”
“Besides,” Gareth added, “it’s a lot of money, and it’s only one night.”
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s just a lot of money. It’s worth it.”
“So, are you in?” Even his voice was slimy.
“Sure. Only, there’s one thing…” Go easy, I thought. Don’t overdo it. Please.
“What is it?”
“See, I’m not technically of age.”
I grimaced. This was it. I hoped she handled it the way we talked about. I hoped she wouldn’t go off-script.
A pause. “What’s not technically? What does that mean?”
“It means…I’m seventeen. I didn’t want you to find out after and, like, take my money or something.”
“You’re seventeen? When’s your birthday?”
“I just had it last month.”
I held my breath, closing my eyes. Come on, Gareth, go for it.
“That’s fine.”
I pumped my fists, pounding on the ceiling. I got him.
“Are you sure? Is it okay for me to be part of it even though I’m seventeen? I don’t wanna get in trouble or anything.”
“Good girl!” I said. “Get him.”
Gareth snorted. “It’s fine. Nobody will ever know.”
“That’s what you think, fucker,” I said with a grim smile. People would know. Plenty of people would.
Then I heard a firecracker going off. Only it wasn’t a firecracker. It was a gunshot. And it hit me in the arm, going right through the open window.
“Fuck!” I screamed, looking around. I couldn’t see anybody—they could have been anywhere around the clubhouse. And they’d spotted me.
I picked up my phone. “Get her outta there, now! I just got shot in the arm!”
“Are you okay?” I heard.
“I’ll be fine, just get her!” I drove away as fast as I could without getting into an accident. I could only hope they didn’t know she was with me. I had the evidence, but I didn’t wanna risk her.
As I drove, I waited for the phone call to confirm they got her out. When Spike called, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“What are you gonna do about that arm?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m going home first. Not the first time I ever got shot,” I pointed out. I hung up and drove home. No way I could go to the hospital with a gunshot wound.
Now that it was over, and I had the evidence against Gareth, I couldn’t wait to get on with my life. I had to get home and tell Michelle.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Michelle
I stood, ready to greet Eric when he came through the door.
Mac was right. I had to stop telling myself all the reasons we couldn’t work out and start focusing on all the reasons why we could. His goodness, his kindness. The part of himself he did his best to hide. He couldn’t hide it from me. At the end of the day, that was all that mattered. The way he treated me, and the way I felt when we were together. Not his record or his gang. We would find a way around that together.
The doorknob rattled. I frowned and instinctively moved toward it to open the door for him. Must have forgotten his key, I thought. Then I stopped myself. How could he have gotten back without his keys in the bike’s ignition?
It all went through my head in an instant, and I knew it wasn’t Eric even before the door burst open and I was face-to-face with the man who held the gun to my head in the van.
A low moan escaped my mouth as I scrambled away from him. I turned to bolt for the back door, but that door was being forced open as well. I changed course, my feet flying before I could think. I dashed up the stairs, hands grabbing at the steps above me as I fled. I heard their footsteps below me, the sounds of their laughter. They knew I couldn’t get away. So did I.
I went to the bedroom, army crawling beneath the bed. I’d dropped my phone on the couch when I stood up. Shit! I couldn’t even call the police. Terror washed over me, filling every part of me, and my brain screamed in panic. There was nowhere to go.
Where the hell were Joe and Pete? Didn’t they know this was happening? Had they taken a break? Oh God—what if they were dead? I covered my mouth with my hands to stifle a whimper. I was truly all alone.
Footsteps on the stairs. They were tormenting me, drawing it out. I kept my mouth covered, struggling to control myself. All I could do was pray they’d get distracted, or that Joe and Pete were only unconscious and would come to and rescue me. Or that Eric would come home early, and they would run.
Eric. Where was he? No way they would let him catch up with him this time. I couldn’t stop shaking, and the louder the footsteps, the harder I shook.
I saw black leather work boots in the doorway. They stayed there for a moment, then went further down the hall. He was starting at the end and working his way down to me.
A weapon. Was there anything around here? Anything I could use? I closed my eyes and thought hard, going through the room in my head. It was fairly uncluttered—there was nothing I could remember.
He searched the bathroom. I heard the shower curtain open. Then the guest bedroom. I barely held back my sobs as he searched the closet. He was toying with me, and I hated him so much for it.
Finally, more footsteps. The work boots appeared again in the doorway. I held my breath. Please come home, Eric. Please come. Please. Help me.
“Where are you?” The voice was low, a sing-song. I closed my eyes and sobbed helplessly. It was pointless to try to fight him. I was only drawing out the inevitable.
He sat on the bed, and it sagged down toward me. He had me trapped, and wanted me to know he had me trapped.
“You got away last time, but your boyfriend’s not here, is he? Those two assholes outside won’t help either. They’re both taking a nap in the yard. They’ll have pretty bad headaches when they wake up.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“So it looks like it’s just us, little lady. Either you come out from wherever you’re hiding yourself, or I pull you out. You won’t like it when I pull you out.”
My body froze in place. My muscles just wouldn’t move. My eyes were still closed, my hand over my mouth, and I wished one more time that Eric would come to save me.
He didn’t. The man in the work boots slid to the floor, on his hands and knees, and looked at me. “Come on out,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
I stifled another sob and worked my way out. I didn’t want him to grab at me, to force me. I knew he was for real when he said he would hurt me otherwise.
I stood, and he took me by the arms. “Nice to see you again,” he growled, pulling me close to him like a lover pulling his woman to him for a kiss. I shrank away from him, recoiling in horror. His breath reeked of liquor and cigarettes and sour food.
I heard footsteps behind me and an instant later, stars exploded behind my closed eyes as someone hit me over the head. Everything went black.
###
When I came to, I was in a small, dark place. I was rocking back and forth gently, almost soothingly. At first, I wanted to close my eyes again and let the rocking motion lull me to sleep.
Then I remembered. Everything came back to me at once, including a pain in the back of my head. I winced, touching my hand to it. My hands were free—that was something at least.
I was in the trunk of a car. That was why I rocked back and forth. It was better than the back of a van, surrounded by lecherous pigs. But not much better. At least in the van I could breathe when I wasn’t on the verge of hyperventilating.
What was the game th
is time? Vengeance for me getting away? Or was Gareth as obsessed as Eric made him sound? He was determined to hurt me, or to hurt Eric. No matter what it took, he was going to get what he wanted. Whatever that was.
Would he kill me right away? I shook myself, unable to believe I could have such a terrible thought with a complete absence of emotion. It was just a fact at this point. They kidnapped me and they would do what they wanted. I hoped it wouldn’t take long.
