Taken

chapter Seven

Tiffany

L a Cherie was absolutely delicious, and Mira did a great job of cheering me up during dinner. However, when I got home around ten last night, Marcus wasn’t there. He crawled into bed beside me around one this morning. If something didn’t change soon, he and I weren’t going to make it much longer.

My phone rings as I step out of the coffee shop the next morning.

“Hello,” I answer it as I hold it between my shoulder and ear.

“How was La Cherie?” His deep smooth voice brings a smile to my face.

“It was everything the reviews said it would be. Thanks again for that.”

The sound of his chuckle has me pausing in route to my car and clenching my thighs together. Good lord this man.

“No problem. Did Marcus enjoy it as well?”

I once again falter in my steps toward my car. “Uh, he didn’t go. I went with Mira.”

He’s quiet on the other end. I would give anything to know what was going through his mind at the time. It’s not hard to see the writing on the wall. I mean, I did spend my birthday with my best friend when my man was very capable of joining me.

“That is unfortunate,” Nico replies.

I continue to my car, balancing my cup of coffee in one hand while I grab my keys out my purse with the other.

“Isn’t it nighttime in Tokyo?”

I never get to hear his reply. Suddenly, strong arms grab me from behind. I have enough time to let out one scream before a cloth covers my mouth. I drop everything I’m holding in order to claw at the hand pressed to my face. Eventually, I start to feel woozy and then everything goes black.

**

Rolling to my side, I come awake suddenly. I open my eyes and the room spins forcing me to shut them again.

“Take it slow,” a deep voice says behind me.

I quickly spring up from the bed. Sitting in a chair beside me is a man I’ve never met before. He has short brown hair that’s long up top and short on the sides. His blue eyes are gentle, but sharp. His nose is wide and a bit too large for his face.

“Who are you?”

He smiles and fine lines carve a timeframe through his features aging him. “Some call me Ghost. Others call me their nightmare. I’ve even been called Death a time or two. However, who I am is not as important as why you’re here.”

I swallow, my mouth dry as a desert. “Why am I here?”

Glancing around at my surroundings, I can tell I’m inside a house. It looks dated, from its peeling wallpaper to the antique four-poster bed I’m lying on, to the faded yellowed black and white portraits on the walls. Even the faint smell of mildew in the air belays the age of this house.

“It seems your boyfriend owes my boss some money.”

My attention swings back to the man sitting beside me. “How much?” I wasn’t rich by far, but after working three months with Nico, I’ve made a significant amount. I have close to ten thousand in my personal savings.

“Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

What the actual fuck, Marcus? Who the hell let’s someone run up that type of gambling debt?

I have to blink a few times to grasp what he said.

“We don’t have that type of money.”

A slow smile spreads over the man’s face. “My Boss is willing to make a deal with your boyfriend.”

“What kind of deal?” I don’t like the way he’s looking at me as he says ‘deal’.

Instead of answering me, he pulls my cellphone out of his front pocket and hands it to me.

“Call your boyfriend.”

Taking the phone from him, I go to my favorites in my call log and hit Marcus’ name. As soon as the phone starts connecting, the guy takes the phone from me and puts it on speaker.

“Hey, Baby, now isn’t a good time.” My heart lurches the moment I hear Marcus’s voice come through the speaker. The man with me places a finger to his lips.

“Hello, Marcus. We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now.”

“What the fuck? Who is this, and why do you have my girl’s phone?”

“Don’t worry, I have your girl too.” He turns the phone toward me and nods.

“Marcus.” It’s the only thing I manage to get out before my voice breaks.

“Tiff? What the fuck, man. I swear if you hurt her….”

The guy moves the phone back toward him. He leans back in the seat with an easy grin on his face.

“Calm your ass down,” The guy says. “You owe Saint money. Do you have the money?”

Marcus sighs through the phone. “No. I need time. Just give me a few more days.”

I don’t know what a few more days was going to do for him. There was no way he was going to be able to come up with that type of money.

“Your time has run out,” The guy says. “But lucky for you, Saint is an understanding man. You have two options, Marcus. Either you turn yourself over to me and I take your payment back in flesh, or you allow Saint to put your girl to work in one of his brothels to get the money back.”

I gasp, clutching a hand to my mouth. The very little breakfast I had this morning is threatening to make a reappearance.

“Come on, man. There has to be another way,” Marcus pleads.

The man sitting beside me shakes his head. “These are your only options. Your girl or your limbs. Let’s face it, you’re not playing basketball anymore, do you even need your fingers?” The guy chuckles as if he made a joke.

“Can I have time to think about it.”

Think about it? Is he kidding me? What the hell is there to think about?

“No. Your decision has to be made before I hang up this phone. Or I decide for you, and just so you know, I vote for the limbs.”

“Fuck, okay, alright,” Marcus shouts. He’s silent for a long moment. I wait with bated breath for him to speak again. “How long will she have to work?”

“Marcus,” I shout as tears spring from my eyes and leak down my cheeks. My heart crumbles. I knew our relationship wasn’t in a great place, but I never thought he could do this to me.

The man shakes his head. “You’ve made your decision. Your debt is paid.” He hangs up the phone and stands. His cold eyes stare down at me. “Don’t worry, with your face and ass you’ll be able to pay that debt back in four months—six tops.”

“You can’t do this. Please.” I’m not above begging.

“It’s already done, Darling,” he says with a grin.

I spring to my feet ready to make a dash to the door. The guy grabs me around the waist and slams me onto the bed. I fight as hard as I can, kicking, scratching, and biting. The man calls for help, but I don’t stop fighting.

Another guy walks into the room.

“Get the fuck over here. She’s like a wild cat,” the first guy says. The new guy with short hair comes over to me on the bed. He places one knee down on the mattress. It’s then that I see the needle in his hand. I start to fight harder, but I quickly begin to tire.

“Don’t. Please,” I beg and cry at the same time.

However, it doesn’t stop the pinch of the needle in my neck. Immediately, my limbs go weak, and the fight leaves me.

“That was for your own good, Darling. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” The first guy says as if he actually gives a shit about me.

The last thing I remember before sleep takes me away, is the door to the room shutting and the sound of locks engaging.