Authors: Lane Tracey
Chapter 22
My body freezes. I know that’s the worst possible response but it won’t move.
Run
. You can’t. Only one way in.
Warn Josie
. You can’t. They’re too close. They’ll hear you.
Hide
.
Hide!
I
look around, crazed, frantic. Hotel rooms are impossible. Under the bed, in a closet—they’ll find you in a heartbeat.
Think, think!
All hope that the voices would bypass this room die as I hear a key card slide in and out of the door slot. It sounds like the deadbolt on a prison cell. My body finally reacts. I dive for a side table in the adjacent living room area and wrench open the door. It’s made to look like drawers, but it’s really a cupboard, less than three feet by two feet.
The key card must not have worked the first time because I hear it sliding in and out again. The door opens just as I pull the cupboard door closed. I have to hold it shut with my fingers because it’s not meant to close from the inside. My body is folded in half. It’s hard to believe it fit in here. Surely they can hear me panting, struggling to breathe with my body scrunched in this way.
His quicksand voice is unmistakable. Smooth and seductive, Liam’s is easy to pick out among the other men’s rumbling tones. There’s another voice my ears tune in to, distinctive because it’s so high in register for a male. And a third man, quiet until a question is asked, gives a one-word answer.
I stop breathing. It’s Victor.
Glasses are clanked onto a counter and liquid is poured. The voices carry on. They are indistinct by the bar. The hotel door opens and closes as other men arrive.
After a while, the words grow clear as the voices get louder. The men are coming closer. They sound right next to the side table I’m in. The plush chairs in the office area protest as heavy bodies sit in them. My lower back begins to ache with strain and tension.
There’s a sudden silence that extends beyond a normal pause in conversation. It worries me. Then the man with the really high voice speaks.
“Your idea for an elite class of girls was brilliant, financially speaking, Liam,” he says, pausing after every two or three words as if he’s giving a sermon. “You were right about our select clients feeling like they’re in a candy store when they pick the girls right from the show. And you were right about the forbidden thrill of these girls being underage. ” He clears his throat and there’s a long silence. “But, we can’t get greedy. Two girls within a month is too frequent. Someone is going to catch on.” This guy seems like the leader of the group. Only someone important would talk to Liam like that. No one says anything for a while.
“All the
more reason to expand to the next hotel,” Liam finally says, his voice so honeyed it sounds like he’s trying to talk the guy into bed. “I can do at least five matches of girls with clients per year at each location in this town. That’s double the inventory. Double the profit. No one will notice. Staff turnover is constant. Dancers are gypsies. They move from show to show. This will work.” The last is said with emphasis. I can imagine his face glowing, blue orbs flat.
“Liam, you’re not being realistic
.” The man’s voice is even higher and has an agitated edge. “The profits are unbelievable, but the risks are g—”
“What was that?” It’s another man’s voice, deep and loud. Everything goes silent.
Don’t let it be Josie
, I silently pray.
“What did you hear?” It’s Liam, commanding.
“Something tinkling, like,” the man answers.
“Don’t just stand there
—go look,” Liam says, his soft voice threatening.
My heart pounds and my breathing goes double
-time. No panic. Not now. No, no. Deep breaths. But it’s too cramped in here for that.
It’s got to be
hangers that were clanking. Josie hid in the closet. OK, think. What can you do?
Footsteps, a heavy pair
, and something dragging and…crying. It’s Josie. They’ve found Josie. She’s whimpering and mumbling something. She sounds terrified.
“Look what I found.” The deep-voiced man says this, sounding triumphant.
“What are you doing here?” the leader demands.
There’s silence. She’s not answering. There’s a sharp slap, fingers meeting flesh. Josie cries out. I bite hard on my lips not to cry out, too.
“Why are you hiding in this suite?” voice strident in its helium-huffing register.
“I’m the supervisor of people who clean these
suites. I was on inspection,” Josie says, her voice shaking. She says nothing more, just continues to cry.
“Why did you hide?”
the leader repeats. How can a mouse’s squeak be so chilling?
“I’m supposed to stay clear when there are meetings held in these rooms. When I heard voices, I thought I’d just wait out the meeting instead of being a nuisance. I was embarrassed that I didn’t check the schedule.”
Not bad improvising under the circumstances.
Please, please let her go
.
“Where’s your key card?”
Oh no
. Josie has nothing on her. She doesn’t even have her purse, which she probably left downstairs at her work area.
“Somewhere around in here. I’m always losing the thing.” Her voice is shakier.
“I wonder if you could hear us in there,” the leader says. It sounds as if he’s talking to himself. Josie starts to say something but he cuts her off.
“No matter. Can’t take the chance.” There’s a long stretch of silence. All I hear is Josie’s quiet crying.
“I’d like the new guy—what’s your name? Hector? Victor? Take this woman and question her until you’re satisfied she’s telling the truth. You know what I mean? Good. Then bring me back some proof that the situation has been taken care of. For good.”
There’s complete silence in the room. I’m horrified. I know only too well that the leader guy wants Victor to torture and then kill Josie.
Chills run down my spine and sweat drips in my eyes. My impulse is to burst out of the cupboard and run screaming at them all. But then what?
“No problem,” I hear Victor say.
What do you mean “no problem,”
I want to scream. Josie cries harder.
“Also, search this place in case she’s not who she says she is and had someone helping her.”
My legs are numb. The muscles in my shoulders and arms are splitting apart. My back is gone. They’ll soon see that the cupboard door is slightly ajar and I won’t be able to fight because my body is useless. I pray they don’t notice the cupboard door. If they don’t notice the door, the space looks too small for someone to fit into it. I’m sweating and praying and sick with worry for Josie. And me.
The cupboard door shuts from the outside.
I stifle a scream. Someone knows I’m in here. Or leaned against it by mistake. Highly unlikely. My heart bangs even harder in my squashed chest. Maybe Victor…
As quickly as it rises, hope fades. I don’t know why the person shut the cupboard. It m
ay be to help me. Then again, maybe not. I’ll have to pray I’m not discovered and wait and see.
My ears strain to hear beyond my own pulse sounds and ragged breathing. I feel
vibrations. Feet moving around and then stopping. When they come near, I hold my breath. I don’t even blink.
The hotel door opens and closes. Maybe Victor has taken Josie away. I don’t hear her crying anymore.
Vibrations near me, stopping.
I have a bad feeling
. The cupboard handle rattles. OK, this is it. As tortured as my muscles are, they tense and get ready to fight.
Liam and Victor both start talking loudly at once. I strain to hear, muscles still tense and ready. Victor’s quiet now and Liam’s talking.
“We’re wasting time. No one’s here. Victor, get the woman out of here. We can continue this discussion when I get back. Let’s put everything on hold for now. OK?”
There’s a maddening silence that seems to go on forever. It’s broken only by the hotel door opening and closing, presumably Victor and Josie leaving. I feel like a caged animal. Give me an excuse to fight to the death. Instead, the leader speaks up.
“OK, Liam. Things are on hold for now. But I like things under control. And things don’t feel in control. Make sure the new guy follows through with the woman.”
The hotel door opens and closes again. There’s the rumbling of male voices and the sound of the door closing a few more times. Then silence.
My muscles stay bunched as I listen for sounds. After a long time, my shoulders relax, followed by my arms, back, and legs. I try to roll my neck around, but it’s almost impossible in this space. Opening the cupboard door is out of the question until I’m sure it’s safe, so I start counting.
When I get to
one thousand, I ease open the door and peek out the crack. The room is empty. I unfold my body out of the cupboard and onto the floor. Every muscle hurts. Can’t think of that now. I sit up and look carefully around the room. It’s definitely empty. Thank God. I lie down flat on my back and blow out a lungful of air in relief.
“Hel
lo, Savannah.”
Chapter 23
Liam swivels around in the oversized desk chair and faces me, big teeth, dead eyes. I stare at him and stand on shaky legs, feeling my heart crash. So he’s the one who closed the cupboard door, not Victor.
“How did you fold those long legs into such a small space?” he says, eyeing me in a far too familiar way. When I don’t answer, he continues.
“Ah, well. You’re always one who wants to get right down to business.” Liam has dropped the smile and some of the silk has gone out of his voice. “I figure you owe me for not giving your hiding place away.” He’s about to continue, but I interrupt him.
“What’s going to happen to the woman?”
“To Josie? Yes, I know her. Don’t look so surprised. I make it my business to know staff. Especially if they’ve been here awhile. Especially if they dress my girls. And I figured you might be involved if she was involved. Looks like I was right.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” My words come out edgy. He’s making me mad.
“I have no control over that, Savannah,” Liam says impatiently. “I’m saving your ass, aren’t I? I think I know what you two were doing up
—”
“Where’s Tink?” All thoughts of trying to use finesse with this man are gone. Just looking at his smug expression makes me want to scratch it off his face with my fingernails. He doesn’t answer quickly enough. “Where is she?” I demand, louder.
“OK, Savannah. Let’s talk business,” Liam says, everything about him ice cold. “Your buddy, Tink, is not cooperating. A certain gentleman has paid a lot of money for her cooperation. I need you to help her collaborate with this gentleman.”
“How can I force her to do something she doesn’t want to do?” I ask, fe
arful for Tink, knowing Liam is capable of anything.
Liam has gotten up from his chair and
has crossed over to where I’m standing. He puts his fingers under my chin so that I’m looking straight into his eyes. It’s like a hall of mirrors. I’m at a circus. He’s a freak show. I try to shake my chin free, but he holds it firm.
“Oh, she’ll see that I will hurt her best friend if she doesn’t do exactly what I ask her to do,” he says, his breath hot on my face. “Actually, I take pleasure in that sort of thing. It’s hard for me to stop. It gets me off.”
Both of my arms come up at once to slam the sides of his head. But he’s too quick for me and blocks my blows with swift movements of his own. He pins my arms to my sides and backs me up to the wall. Once there, he kicks my legs apart and holds my arms over my head against the wall.
“Don’t fight me, Savannah. You’ll just get me all excited.”
Sure enough, his face is flushed and a pulse is beating hard in his neck. My knee twitches reflexively. I’m just dying to bring it up into his groin. I swear to God, the sick scum reads my mind. Any normal guy would instinctively jerk away, but Liam’s lips part, his pupils dilate slightly and his hips come forward. A sound of disgust rips from my throat. The next instant, I’m laughing wildly, a distinctly unstable sound. It gives me great pleasure to see his pupils contract to pinpoints.
“OK, Liam. Take me to Tink,” I say when I can catch my breath. “Where is she?”
Liam slowly releases my arms from the wall. He keeps his mouth an inch from mine as if he’s going to kiss me but instead whispers two words.
“New York
.”
Air escapes me like a punctured tire on a bicycle. Evidently my reaction to the news that Tink is in New York pleases Liam. He gives me a lip-splitting smile. It barely makes me angry. I feel too punched in the stomach for that.
I close my eyes and take a breath. Anger and shock recede, replaced by a far less welcome emotion: fear. How can I possibly travel all the way to New York with this maniac and single-handedly get Tink out of there? Liam is sly and dangerous, not to mention bat-crap crazy. I’m no match for him.
My eyes stay closed. No matter what, he can’t see my fear. He’ll crush me. There’s a ball of panic starting in my stomach.
Every last person is gone. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m too young for this whole thing and should just give up
.
I can feel him smiling. I think about Tink. Her mother’s not looking for her. Just like my parents aren’t looking for me. From what Liam said about Tink not cooperating, she knows that Liam has been using her. He seduced Tink to turn her into one of his “elite” girls. So now, I’m all she has left.
My eyes snap open.
“Let’s go.”
Liam’s smile falters for a moment, and then curves back into place.
“Wonderful,” he says, all silk again. “How long will it take
—”
“I’m staying here at the hotel because of the people
who have been asking about me,” I say, cutting him off before he can say more. “Give me fifteen minutes to pack.”
“OK,” he says slowly. “I’ll send someone to your apartment to pick up some of your dresses and shoes.
You’ll need nice things. What’s your room number? I’ll be there in exactly fifteen minutes.”
Liam has taken my hand and is leading me to the door. His hand is as cold as the marble floor and makes the hair
on my arms stand up.
“Oh, and, Savannah?” he says, turning to me,
his blue-white eyes narrowing. “Don’t bother to run. I’ll find you. And I won’t be happy.”
His grip on my hand tightens. I pull it away angrily.
“My room number is 4207. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”
I give him a wide berth to get to the door and let it slam behind me.
It takes me a few tries to get my room door open because my hand is trembling. I’m overwhelmed by the idea of going to New York and what I have to do once there. One step at a time, I remind myself.
The bed looks so good. It would be great to hide under the covers and sleep. My thoughts of escape are interrupted by an incessant buzzing. It’s coming from my bag in the bathroom. My vibrating cell shows several texts waiting. They’re all from Victor. Now my hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold onto the phone to read the messages.
You’re in danger.
Let’s meet.
Where are you?
Please answer me.
You’re in danger!
Emotions bombard me and make my face go hot. Hope radiates from my heart. My chest feels like it will burst. He’s trying to protect me! Or is he? Reason sets in.
OK, either Victor is capable of torture and murder, or he’s still a cop of some sort. The reason my brain says cop is because there’s no way I can believe that Victor is a murderer. He simply wouldn’t hurt Josie. Or am I naïve, like Liam says? It may be that being in love with Victor is blinding me to his true nature. Just like Tink was so fooled by Liam.
Also, would a cop walk out on me like Victor did that horrible night and leave me alone with someone as dangerous as Liam? It seems to me, if he were a cop, he would have taken me to safety right then.
And, even if he is a cop, I can’t answer his texts. This is the part that makes me want to scream and cry and pound the walls in frustration. Because I want to take the chance and answer him. Even if I’m wrong, I want to take the chance. But, the way Liam described them, there are some bad people hunting me. If they’re involved, I probably got the money in some shady, illegal way. The way you don’t want cops involved in.
It’s not that I’m afraid he would turn me in. I’m afraid he
wouldn’t
. And it would ruin everything for him.
Fists beat on my hotel door, setting it vibrating.
It hasn’t been fifteen minutes yet, has it? Think! Liam can’t see these texts. My fingers rake the back of the phone off. I pry out the SIM card, flush it down the toilet, wait, and then drop the phone into the rising water. The sound of my name being called accompanies the pounding now.
“Hang on,” I yell
. I retrieve the dripping phone from the toilet, and toss it into the waste can. “Can’t a girl use the restroom?” I ask breathlessly as I pull the door open a minute later. Liam stands there, looking less composed than usual.
“I’m trying to get us on the red
-eye out of Denver,” he says, looking past me at the disarray in the room. “There’s a possible opportunity for you tomorrow. Are you ready?”
“Almost,” I lie. “Wait outside.” I don’t like the sound of whatever “opportunity” he’s talking about.
One thing at a time
. Pack first. Get through the flight with the freak. Then try to get Tink out.
I physically push him out the door
and then fly around the room throwing my clothes, shoes, and whatever’s on the bathroom counter into my suitcase. Being out of time doesn’t stop me from peeling back the lining of the suitcase to check on the money. My paranoia is eased when I see that it’s securely in place. Tink and I are going to need the money when we’re on the run. Thinking about running makes me want to cry. I slam the lid, pretending to pack away all sadness, all feeling. This step is done. Get through the next step.
Then it hits me.
The money
. There’s no way to get all that money through airport security. A wave of panic nearly knocks me over.
Think!
More pounding at the door.
“Almost done,” I yell, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
I have
nail scissors in my make-up bag. I make a jagged rip in the underside of the mattress with them and tear at the opening with my fingernails to widen it. It doesn’t cooperate and several fingernails break off. Finally it’s wide enough for me to stuff the bills into, but the process is too slow.
“Savannah, I’m going to break this door down,” Liam says, with an edge that chills me.
I cram the rest of the money under the mattress, leaving ten thousand in the lining of my carry-on. Then I leap to the phone a foot away and pray into the silence for someone to pick up. When someone finally answers an eternity later, I ask them to extend my stay for two more nights.
Liam glares at me through narrowed eyes when I come out a minute later, especially when I hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the hotel door. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything, just rolls my carry
-on to the elevator, across the casino floor and out the entrance where a hotel limousine waits. I can barely keep up.
A man leaps out of a cab at the entrance and thrusts two dresses and a pair of heels into Liam’s hands.
My black dress. The one I wore when Victor first kissed me. I hate that Liam’s touching it. He crams the clothes into the suitcase and leaves it with the driver, who opens the door for us. Liam says nothing until we’re almost to the airport. He seems to think of something and turns to me abruptly.
“Give me your cell phone.”
“I threw it out.”
“Why?” he says, his stone cold look activating my sweat glands.
“It’s a piece of crap. It kept dying on me,” I say, trying to not look away.
“You know, you really have a trash mouth. It makes you sound like you’re from a trailer park.” This guy lives to tick me off.
“And what’s wrong with people from trailer parks, you elitist pig?” I say before I can stop myself. But instead of becoming enraged as expected, Liam throws his head back and laughs.
“Elitist pig? Oh Savannah,” he says, reaching over and stroking my neck, making me shudder. “You’re like a wild horse that needs to be ridden until she’s broken. I so look forward to doing that.”