by Rhonda Bowen
“You?” I reach back to grab the wall, the door, something to help me stay upright. “You? You’re the highest bidder?”
He nods and steps forward, closing the distance between us.
“Yes, Care. It’s me. You’re with me tonight.”
I stare into Dutch’s luminescent eyes, hoping desperately, but not believing this could be true.
“It’s you?” I squeak.
He reaches out and wraps his hand gently around my elbow. “Yes, it’s me.”
I suck in a breath that sounds like a whimper. “Thank You, God.”
And then my legs give out.
Chapter 22
“Carrie? Carrie. Carrie, can you hear me?”
I blink the fog from my eyes and try to focus my gaze. The last thing I remember is falling before I passed out. I probably have the alcohol and valium combined with an empty stomach to thank for that. But now, I am awake again, sitting in the wing chair with someone holding both my hands. I look down and see Dutch kneeling in front of me.
“Good, you’re awake.” He takes a deep breath and rests back on his heels. “I was worried there for a moment.”
I miss the warmth of his touch as he lets go, but soon he is sliding something into my hand.
“Apple cider,” he explains. “Drink.”
I take a sip and close my eyes. The warm sweet and sour liquid is helping.
“I don’t understand,” I open my eyes to meet his. “How are you here?”
He stands up and pulls the other wing chair closer before taking a seat in front of me.
“I wasn’t going to let you spend the night with some stranger who bid ten grand to sleep with you.”
I flinch at his words and look away.
“I know about your mother’s little business endeavor.” His voice grows hard. “After that day you picked up your sister, I did some research, asked around and got the details.”
I don’t dare look up at him, but he takes my hands in his again anyway.
“You think I don’t know you, Carrie, but I do. I know you wouldn’t do this unless you felt you had to.” He sighs. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me, let me help you.”
This time I do meet his gaze. “Really? You don’t know why I wouldn’t tell you that I’m a high paid escort who sleeps with men for money?”
I see his jaw tighten as his eyes flit away. Silence hangs between us for a long moment.
“Why do you do it?”
I laugh as Delia’s words float back to me. “Because I don’t have a choice.”
“What does she have on you? Is it money? Is she blackmailing you? What is it?”
Dutch’s eyes search mine looking for answers, looking for a reason that will help him excuse what he now knows about who I am. But I don’t think there is a reason that will suffice, not even the truth.
I am suddenly tired. I feel like I have been running for a really long time, and with all my running I still can’t see the finish line. I am tired of trying to help people and it not working out. I am tired of lying. I am tired of trying to be two people at once. I am just plain tired.
I let out a sigh. “She has my daughter.”
There it is, out in the open. And now Dutch knows everything about me. He lets go of my hands and falls back in the chair.
His mouth opens and closes several times. “You have a daughter?”
“The man who…” I take a deep breath. “After I was raped, I found out I was pregnant. I knew Cordelia would want me to get rid of it, so I didn’t tell her. By the time she found out, it was too late to get an abortion. She would have tried, but I threatened to tell the child’s father.”
I shake my head. “He is...he could make life very difficult for her. And we both knew if he found out, he would be mad at Cordelia for not telling him about it.”
“So, she agreed to let you keep the baby?”
I roll my eyes. “She allowed it. And after the baby was born, she seemed to even be fine with the whole thing.”
I could still remember the little place she set me up with while I was pregnant. The woman she hired to help me through the pregnancy. Back then I thought it was her maternal instinct kicking in. Now I know she was just isolating me from the other girls and making sure no one else knew about my situation.
“One day I went out and came back and Nina was gone.”
Dutch’s eyes widen. “Gone?”
I nod, not bothering to wipe the tears that slide down my cheek. “She took her somewhere, I don’t know where, and has kept her there ever since.”
Dutch frowns. “Somewhere where? Outside the city? Outside the country?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. And there is no way for me to find out. Believe me, I have tried.”
Dutch stands. “How could anyone do something like that? If she would do that, how can you even trust her? How do you know if your daughter is even...”
He let his words trail off, but I already know the rest.
“She lets me talk to her every other week,” I wipe my face. “That’s why I go back there every other weekend. I work a job for her, she lets me talk to my daughter on Skype. Nina thinks...”
I can barely force the words past the sobs in my throat. “Nina thinks her mommy just works far away.”
Dutch is on his knees in front of me again, squeezing my hands, wiping the tears on my cheek, pulling me into his arms.
“I am so sorry, Care. I am so, so sorry.”
I let him hold me and wonder who is holding Nina right now. On New Year’s Eve, who is celebrating with my little seven-year-old. Does she know how much her mommy loves her? Does she know how much my heart breaks to be with her?
“She promised that when I turn thirty she will bring her back to me.”
“Do you believe that?” Dutch asks.
I shrug. “What choice do I have?”
“You have a choice now.” Dutch rubs the backs of my hands with his thumbs. “I have a detective friend of mine looking into Cordelia’s escort service. We intercepted the auction details and highjacked it so we could get you out—”
I jump up. “What do you mean you highjacked it?”
“I mean that once Cordelia accepted our ten-thousand-dollar transfer, we picked up the other bidders for Carina Bell for questioning. It was a whole sting—”
“You picked up Alexander SteffKov?” My heart begins to race. “You questioned him about Cordelia? About Carina Bell?”
“Yes, he was—”
“No!” I dash for the door, but Dutch grabs my arm.
“Wait, what’s the matter?
I pull out of his grasp. “Alexander is Nina’s father!”
“Great, that means we’ll get him for—”
“No! Not great.” I slap my forehead with my palm. “Do you even know who he is? He is the son of an ambassador. He has business holdings all over this city. He went to school with the children of former Presidents. You’ll never get him on anything. Your little NYPD friend won’t even get to talk to him. And once he hears Cordelia’s name, he’ll go straight to her. He’ll try to ruin her, and she’ll use Nina to save herself.”
I yank open the door. “I have to get back. I have to find out where she’s hiding my daughter.”
I hear Dutch’s voice, but I don’t even pause as I walk-run down the hallway, fighting with the narrow skirt of my dress. I am at the front door before he catches up. He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the front door towards the side of the mansion.
“I’m not letting you go there alone. We’re taking my car.”
I nod. “Okay, but we have to hurry.”
Chapter 23
Dutch is tearing across the city, barely acknowledging traffic signals as he cuts through the streets. But it is not fast enough.
I twist the fabric of my dress between my fingers. “When did you start contacting the men?”
He checks his blind spot before switching lanes. “A couple hours ago. After the money tran
sfer went through.”
I chew on my lip, confusion pushing through the fear shrouding my mind. “I don’t understand. If you intercepted the bid, why does Cordelia think that Alexander is my date tonight?”
“Because we cloned his user account.” Dutch makes another sharp right turn. “We changed the location details for the meeting tonight which is why you ended up at this party and not the one Alexander is attending.”
“So he is somewhere waiting for me to show up?” My throat begins to close up. “This is bad. Really, really bad.”
I don’t want to think about what will happen when Alexander realizes I am not there. I have seen his temper before, and he will not be happy about being embarrassed like this. His reaction will be swift and extreme.
Dutch seems to get a sense of the urgency because he steps on the gas and we are flying. But as we turn the corner onto my avenue, I realize we may be too late.
We hardly get a few feet before we are ensnarled in a line of cars stuck behind a crew of emergency vehicles. But I barely see them, I am too focused on the smoke billowing from the flames surrounding Cordelia’s mansion.
“Delia!”
I get almost to the gate before a strapping wall of yellow and black stops me short.
“Miss, you can’t go in there!”
“No, my sister. She’s in there!”
“We’re doing the best we can to get everyone out safely, but we can’t let you go in.” His tone is firm and as I finally look up at him, I realize I am not going to get anywhere.
At least not this way.
I nod and step back.
“You say this is your residence?”
I nod again.
“Wait here and I’ll see if someone can come talk to you.”
As soon as he steps away, I dart around the firetrucks and away from the house. People line the street to see the commotion, but not our neighbors two houses down. They spend every Christmas and New Years in the Caribbean. And I happen to know how to get into their backyard and into their basement. It had been a very useful escape path when we were younger and needed to leave without Cordelia knowing. I still use it every now and then.
Within moments, I am cutting across their back garden towards ours. Smoke is pouring out the windows from the back of the mansion, but the fire seems mostly at the front. The door sticks, but I manage to get it open. A wave of heat hits me, and smoke fills my nostrils. But I see no flames in the kitchen. I grab a towel from the drawer and soak it in water before heading in.
“Delia!”
Smoke is everywhere, burning my eyes, clouding my vision. I can feel the heat increasing as I move further in. I hear the snap and crackle of wood succumbing to fire. But I also hear voices. Delia’s. Cordelia’s. I rush towards the sound and meet a wall of flames devouring the living room, entryway and staircase. The fire is moving fast. Too fast. It won’t be long before there will be no way in or out.
The voices are faint over the roar of the burning house, but I know they are coming from the office; the office which is only moments away from becoming charcoal.
“Delia!”
“...what you did! How could you? How could you let him do that to her? How could you make her go back to him!”
“Delia! My love, please, we have to get out of here. The fire...”
I round the corner and see Cordelia backed into a corner, her eyes round and focused on Delia who is standing in front of her waving a knife.
“How could you not come for me? You let that almost happen to me! And then you told me to go back! You told me to go back! What kind of mother does that?”
Even though I cannot see her face, I can hear Delia’s sobs. Her heart is breaking and so is mine.
“Forget her, Delia, she’s not worth it.”
Delia looks around at me, and I get a look at her puffy eyes and tear stained face.
“Carrie? What are you doing here?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, let’s just go—”
Delia spins around and jabs the knife towards Cordelia who has tried to make a move for it while Delia was distracted.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Cordelia jumps back out of range of the knife, putting her hands up. “Okay, okay.” Her chest rises and falls heavily with her uneven breaths. Even though she is dressed for the evening, her hair now looks disheveled and out of place. The intensity of the moment almost makes her look the full breadth of her sixty years.
“What do you want, Delia? Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to burn in hell!”
Cordelia closes her eyes briefly then reopens them. “We all are going to burn if we don’t get out of here.”
As if on cue, I hear a crash and look down the hallway to see the chandelier on the floor.
“Delia, we have to go.”
“No! Not until she gives me the pictures. The video. Everything.”
My eyes shift towards Cordelia. “And while we’re asking for things, you can tell me where my daughter is.”
Delia’s head whips around again. “Your daughter? You have a daughter?” She turns to glare at Cordelia. “And you knew!”
She charges at her, but not before I rush in and grab her arm. “Delia, no!”
Cordelia sinks to the floor and crawls away from Delia.
“You’re scum,” Delia shouts at her. “I can’t believe you’re my mother.”
I am trapped. We need to leave, but Delia is no longer rational and getting her out of here is going to be challenging.
“Carrie! Carrie, where are you!”
Dutch!
“I’m here!”
There is more crashing and sounds of things breaking and then there is Dutch, standing in the doorway, looking like a misdressed firefighter.
“We’re leaving, now!”
I nod towards Delia.
“No, not until—”
“Delia, please,” I try and pull her towards the door, but she is not cooperating.
“No, I need to—”
Delia’s words are cut off as Dutch grabs her and heaves her over his shoulder, heading towards the back door where he has no doubt followed me in. “Carrie, let’s go!”
I head after him, but pause, turning back to Cordelia. I think about leaving her there. But I can’t. I am not like that. I am not her. Besides, if she dies I may never find Nina.
“Come on,” I grab her arm and pull her up to her feet as she looks at me in surprise. “We need to get out of here.”
She nods and limps along beside me, but then suddenly pulls away. “Wait, the safe.”
“Forget the safe. The fire is moving down the hallway. We’re about to be trapped.”
She twists out of my grip and lunges towards her desk. “But the safe has everything. My contacts, my insurance...”
“Cordelia...”
But she is not listening. She is limping around the desk, pulling a painting off the wall and spinning the combination of the safe behind it that I have never known existed.
There is a crack and suddenly a piece of the ceiling falls in just feet away from where I am standing. I jump back as embers land on my skirt, lighting it on fire. I pat them out quickly with the rag I am still holding, but there are too many flammable items in this room and the flames consume them easily.
“Carrie!”
Dutch’s voice sounds far away. I back towards the door even as smoke fills the space, clouding my vision.
“Cordelia, we have to—”
Hacking coughs steal my voice. But through the smoke I can see her still tugging at the small metal door.
“Just one more minute...”
But I don’t have one more minute. My eyes are burning and so are my lungs.
God help her. God help me.
I breathe the single prayer out as I push through the flames, down the oven hot hallway towards the back door. There are flames everywhere, and had I not known the house so well I would have been lost in the thick sm
oke. I cover my mouth and nose with the rag and rush towards the back door, barely missing another piece of falling ceiling.
My hands guide me. Counters, wall, door frame. And then I am stepping down, stepping out. Hands grip my arms and move me in another direction towards fresh air. But I still can’t breathe. My lungs hurt, my eyes burn, and patches of my arm feel tender and sore.
“Carrie!”
I hear his voice. I know his voice. But I can’t see him. Can’t see anything but gray and blackness. And soon not even that. Soon there is nothing at all.
Chapter 24
“So all this is yours?”
“Yup.”
I lean back against the car and stare at the blackened Soho building. Snow had fallen the day before, creating a sheet of white over the mess. But it couldn’t cover the horrible truth the place represented.
It has been two weeks since the fire, which has been officially ruled an accident. Thankfully, almost all the girls were out of the house when the disaster happened. Cordelia was the only casualty. The irony of her dying in the prison she created for us is not lost on me.
Now the shell of that prison and the lot it sits on belongs to Delia. I glance over at the young woman who is staring up at the house from behind huge sunglasses.
“It wasn’t an accident.”
I sigh and grasp her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers. She squeezes tight.
“I never thought she would… I just thought if something happened, then maybe someone would investigate… I just wanted someone to know.”
I squeeze back. “I know.”
I hear her sniffle beside me and pull her closer. I am not entirely surprised that Delia had something to do with starting that fire. The night I told her what Cordelia had let happen to me at the auction, I saw something change in her eyes. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been in a place to help her handle it. But starting a fire, one that ended up being the cause of her mother’s death… It will take a while for her to get through this. A long while. But I will be there for it. All of it.
“So no more Sebastien?”
I shake my head. “The day after the police called him asking about his connection to Cordelia, he was on a plane back to England.”
