Dirty Desire (12 page)

It means Harper will most likely leave me.

It means I will no longer have full control over either of ‘my’ clubs.

It means my life will pretty much be one giant piece of shit for a very long time.

It means I’ll fail.

I never considered failure an option until I met Harper.

“You’re a goddamned fool, Knox,” she hisses. “A useless piece of trash.”

She ends the call and leaves me staring at my desk, crowded with papers from inspectors and the city, a city that more than likely isn’t going to allow the club to open unless we bow to some major requests.

I know I’m a fool. I’m a fool that, in about three hours, is going to be spilling his guts to the woman he accidentally fell in love with and praying that she doesn’t call the cops and have him arrested right then and there.

I know this, but I’m not changing it.

Harper deserves to know the truth.

That’s hours from now, though. Right now I have to figure out how to get this club up and running and open by opening night. The members that joined at the party a few months ago are itching to get in and I have no set date I can give them without the final inspection being approved.

It’s been done…but I’ve heard nothing from the city so far about it.

Something tells me this isn’t going to go as smooth as I hoped.

I just need something to go right for me.

Jesus Christ.

“Ma’am is your date going to be here soon?” The server asks nervously. I’ve been sitting here for an hour and Knox has yet to show. He’s not answering his texts or calls and I’m starting to get worried something happened to him. Something bad.

“Yeah, um… He should be.” I smile up at him, praying he isn’t going to kick me out because our reservation was for two and I’m the only one here. Most high end restaurants around here don’t even seat you until the entire party is here, but I was seated right away even without Knox.

The server leaves my table, leaving the pitcher of water with me so he doesn’t have to keep coming back. I can’t afford a dinner here on my own, and I’m afraid that’s what’s going to happen when Knox doesn’t show. They just won’t let me walk out, will they?

“Knox, it’s me. Please call me.” I end the call after leaving my sixth voicemail of the night.

In ten minutes I’m leaving…with or without him.

I know I’ve not known him long, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of person to stand up a date…especially one that he’s seemed so fond of lately.

Well…at least before this week.

I think the club is about to open and he’s stressed or something, because he hasn’t been home much and he’s been short every time we’ve talked. I’m trying not to take offense to it, but it feels like something flipped in him and he wants nothing to do with me anymore. Then, out of the blue he asks for a date night, and I jumped at the chance to show him that he still liked me. Stupid as hell, right?

I’ve never felt so weak around another man, and I sure as hell have never enjoyed it like I do with Knox. It’s insane how fast I became dependent on him. It’s scary knowing he’ll be gone soon.

There’s a part of me that was hoping that tonight was going to be him asking me to stay with him even though he’s leaving. The school-girl side of me was hoping he’d even try staying here instead of moving back. I mean, he has clubs in both locations…what’s there that’s not here for him? Nothing. Nothing at all…at least I don’t think.

It’s been twenty minutes of waiting before I stand to leave.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the waiter as I pass him. “He never showed.” I give him a sad shrug and as I leave he runs up from behind and grabs my elbow.

“Hey listen. Uh…he sucks. Don’t stress it. Here’s my number. Call me, I promise I won’t stand you up.” He grins at me and I see the boyish nerves running through him. I’m not certain how old he is, but I have to be at least ten years older than him.

“Thanks,” I say smiling as I tuck his number in my purse.

Walking out to the car, it’s already dark and I’ve got my keys placed between my fingers as an aid to stabbing someone just in case I had to swing.

That tactic doesn’t work when someone sneaks up from behind you.

“Hello, Harper.” The voice growls, right before my world goes dark.

“What the fuck did you do?” I hear hushed tones coming from somewhere near me, but I can’t tell what’s happening.

We hit a bump and my head hits something cold and hard as the bumps continue, telling me I’m obviously in a moving car.

What the fuck?

I try speaking but it all comes out a garble. Why the hell does my neck hurt? I try to bring my hands to my neck but they are too busy being held in place behind my back. On my side I can see the light coming in through the windshield of oncoming cars. It looks like we’re in a van, but that’s about all the details I can come up with right now. I can’t tell whose voices are coming from the front and I can only see the driver’s silhouette.

Instincts kick in and I immediately start trying to free myself from the ropes. If I can get my hands free then I can get out of here unharmed.

“Hey!” The male voice booms from the front of the car. “Knock that shit off!” He slams on the brakes, sending my body into the seat in front of me.

Fuck that hurt.

“What the hell are you doing with me?” My voice is raspy and my vision blurry.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls from the front seat.

Panic starts to rise in my throat as we roll to a stop and I hear the doors open then close. I have no clue how long I was out or how long we were driving. I don’t know whether or not I’m even in St. Louis anymore, and I have no clue who’s taken me. All I know is I’m alive, and if I want to make it out of this in the same state I have to stay strong.

“Up!” he yells when the back of the van opens. Darkness meets me and before I get a good look at his face he wraps a blindfold around my eyes. His hand comes around my bicep and he pulls me out of the vehicle. I hear the click of high heels next to him as we walk across the pavement, but there are no voices anymore. I’m trying my hardest not to fall as he drags me down some stairs, but it’s not easy and multiple times I almost fall into him.

“Jesus,” he huffs, “Pick up the pace, girl.” He pulls harder as we hit the bottom step and my foot rolls under me.

“Ouch!” I scream, feeling the burn from the sprain, if not worse, screaming up my leg.

“Get her inside already!” the woman’s voice barks out.

A jingle of keys cuts through my heavy breathing and I’m soon pulled inside and thrown to the ground.

“Stay.” The man growls, leaving me lying on the floor and slamming the door behind him.

I hear the locks engage and start to cry immediately.

What the hell are they going to do to me? My mind starts rolling through all the possibilities. Am I being taken as a ransom? No…who would pay to get me back? No one. And even if one would, it’d be Leigh and he has no money so I’m as good as dead.

I could have been taken to sell into the human trafficking business, but I wasn’t aware that was big in this part of the country. I guess you never really know, do you?

Maybe I’m just another string of a mass murder that hasn’t been found out. Maybe I’m about to be dismembered and planted somewhere just to fill someone’s sick fantasy.

I hear hushed fighting happening outside my door and I scoot over to try to hear better. Words like ‘failed’ and ‘patience’ come through, but everything else is muddled.

The waiting is driving me insane. Just get it over with already!

“Hey!” I scream, the blindfold still tight on my eyes and my hands still tied behind me. I think I’m yelling towards a door, but I don’t really know. Even around the edges of the blindfold are pitch black. The floor here is cold and it smells damp in here.

Like a basement.

“Hello?” I yell again, praying to hear a door open.

But there’s nothing.

Finally, after what feels like forever of yelling for help, I let the darkness come over me and close my eyes.

As I doze in and out of sleep, I’m starting to shake from hunger. I feel like it’s been weeks since I’ve been here but it’s probably only been a few days. I’m lying on this mattress as comfortably as I can, but being blindfolded and tied has left me sore in so many places. There’s still a fire inside of me to murder the person that put me here, but I’m holding it at bay until I know I can handle them one at a time.

“Get up,” I hear a female voice say, bringing me out of my restless sleep.

I open my eyes, still blindfolded, but now I can see light coming in from around them. “Good lord what did he ever see in you? Useless. Get the hell up!” she barks.

I fumble, trying to get my footing with my hands still tied. My entire body is still sore from being on a hard, cold floor for god knows how long. When I stand she takes off my blindfold and looks me in the eyes.

The coldest, ice blue eyes I’ve ever met, on a face I’ve never seen before, meet me. Her hair is short and straight, platinum blonde, almost glowing from the hallway light behind her.

“Move,” She shoves me towards the door and I go willingly, trying to save my energy for when I finally fight back and get out of here. I have no clue how long I’ve been here or if anyone would think to be looking for me by now. Knox is obviously done with me or he would have showed at dinner. Leigh would probably be the only one to look, but now that he’s living with John we haven’t really been talking as much. Going a few days without contact has become normal for us. It looks like no one’s going to come find me and getting out of here relies solely on me.

All right, then.

The woman shoves me to a bathroom and slices the ties holding together my hands, almost nicking my wrist in the process.

“Clean up,” she growls. “Don’t try escaping either. There are guards at every door and window down here.”

“Where am—” I start, but she slams the door in my face before I can finish my question.

Bitch.

I blink a few times to get used to the bright light then find the toilet first. The relief is welcomed. I never thought I’d be so happy to pee. Stripping bare, I step into the shower. The water is ice cold and all I have to clean myself is a white bar of soap and a generic bottle of shampoo, but that’s all I need. Being tied up, drugged, then stuck in a damp basement is one way to make you feel like shit. A shower at least will give me some of my energy back so I can fight back against these assholes.

Whoever they are.

By the time I’m finished I feel refreshed and for a minute completely forget that I’m being held in someone’s basement. More like a millisecond.

That is, until the knock comes at the door.

“Hurry it the fuck up in there!” The male voice bellows. Not wanting to anger the beast, I get out of the shower immediately and start to get dressed. My hair, still dripping, is tied into a bun at the top of my head but I’m clean. I throw on my clothes just as the door starts to unlock.

Who installs a lock backwards on their bathroom door anyway?

A murderer. That’s who.

The door swings open and the hallway is dark again. What the hell time of day is it anyway? There haven’t been windows anywhere.

“Good. Let’s go.” The blonde woman takes my arm again, her nails digging into my forearm as she pulls me back down the hall. We pass by the room I was being held and walk into a more livable area.

“You stay here if you’re good. If you’re bad, we throw you back in there. Got it?”

I furrow my brows at her, trying to comprehend what she means. If I’m good? What the hell does that mean?

“Understood?!” she barks, her nails still digging into my arm. The pain makes me wince and I wonder if she’s drawn blood. It sure as fuck feels like it.