Chapter 24

Tori

There was no point in bitching about the way things had turned out. It wouldn't change anything. But in the unbearable silence, I found myself saying, "I thought I finally had a shot."

Paige moved behind me, craning around as far as she could. "What do you mean?"

"I thought I was finally going to have a normal life." A dry laugh slipped from my lips. "You know Eric?"

"Richie's Eric?"

I bristled. "No! He's not with that fucker Dalton."

"Oh?"

"Sorry," I hung my head. "I just mean…he's not on Dalton's side in any of this."

I chewed on the corner of my lip, wondering how much I should say. I supposed it didn't matter much anymore. Paige and I would both likely be dead by morning. Who would she tell?

"We knew each other before he came to the club," I whispered. My throat swelled as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, thinking of the night Bennett and I first met and every pinch-me-I-must-be-dreaming night that followed. He was my first love. My first heartbreak. And I'd probably never see him again.

Without windows, phones, or a clock on the wall, it was impossible to say how much of it we had left, but it felt like it had already been hours, and Richie had only promised one.

"We met in Vegas. That's where I'm really from."

"I thought you were from some small town. Down south, right?"

"Nope. That was all a lie."

"Why?" Paige asked though she didn't sound angry about my confession.

I heaved a sigh and dropped my head back, stretching the kinks in my neck. "That's a long story."

"I would say we had time, but sadly, I don't think that's true."

"Yeah. If we make it out of here, I'll tell you the whole thing sometime over a couple of drinks."

"Deal."

We fell into silence for a long while. Paige was the first to break it, "Reed always has his phone on him. We argue about it all the time. Well, not argue, but squabble, I guess. He never takes a break from it. I don't understand why this is taking so long…"

"He's dodging Richie's calls."

Paige strained in her seat. "What? Why?"

"I don't know, but when I was in the office before you got there, I told him Richie wanted to see him in the red room. Reed told me to tell Richie he'd already left and to call his cell if it was an emergency. It was pretty obvious he was done dealing with him. Now I guess I know why."

"Still," Paige started. "If he got the voicemail, he'd know this wasn't a complaint about the shape of the ice cubes or something stupid!"

"Do you think he'll really sign over the club?"

"For me? Us? Yes. No question." Paige's automatic answer and strong voice inspired a burst of hope in my chest. Maybe Reed would make the deadline, send the papers, and Richie would let us walk away. But the hope extinguished quickly. The stakes were too high.

Dalton wasn't going to just wave us out the back door, deed to the club in hand, and pretend all this was just a casual business deal. He'd already crossed too many lines. He couldn't release us.

"I don't understand why he even wants the club," I muttered.

"I don't either. Suppose he's really the head man for the Sanderson syndicate like he claims. In that case, they probably want to use it as a base for information, scuzzy deals, and a lot of dark shit that we don't even want to know about. I wouldn't be surprised if they were tangled up in some form of human trafficking. After all, before Reed and I got the club, that's what it had been a front for. It has a sordid history, and we busted our asses to make it a reputable place again."

"I'm sorry, Paige."

Both of our dreams were being squelched all at the same time—on the same night.

"So you were going to run off with Eric and leave us?" Paige asked, a hint of humor warming her voice.

I smiled. "Something like that. He wanted to get a house and a dog and be together—a family. I've never had that before. Like what you and Reed have together."

"Hmm. You'll have that, Avery. I'm not going down without a hell of a fight," Paige replied, her tone steely now.

My smile slipped away. "Tori, actually."

"What?"

"My name's Tori."

"What do you?—"

"Like I said, it's a long story. I just wanted you to know the truth."

Before Paige could respond, the metal door clanged open, and we both went ramrod straight, our shoulders thrust back, every muscle tensed as Richie strutted into the room, flanked as always by his two muscle-bound guards. He didn't look happy.

"Your husband has some nerve, dodging my calls," he spat out, glaring at Paige. "Looks like we need to up the ante a little."

He snapped his chubby fingers, and one of the men—the one that had struck me before—stepped toward Paige. I winced, my eyes squeezing shut, waiting for the blow to land. Every cell inside of me was on fire, ready to explode the moment I got a chance.

A ringtone cut through the room, and my eyes flew toward the source of the sound. Richie grabbed a phone from his pocket with one hand, silently putting the guard on ice with a flick of the other. Richie's cruel eyes glimmered with delight.

"Just in time," he said, punching at the screen. "Mr. Parkston, about fucking time."

Paige released a strangled sob, and my heart lurched inside my chest, wishing there was something I could do to help. Unfortunately, it wasn't just our lives in danger. There was a good chance Reed was at risk, too.

And Bennett.

The sound of Reed screaming was audible from across the room, even though the cell phone in Richie's hand wasn't in speaker mode. I couldn't make out his words, but the overall sentiment was crystal clear.

"Now, now, Mr. Parkston, let's not waste time with needless name-calling. Let's stick to the facts and expedite all this unpleasantness."

Richie nodded. "Yes, that's right. I have Mrs. Parkston and the redhead from the club."

His eyes flashed to me, and my heart raced. How did Reed know I was with Paige? He'd already left the club. Had Paige's friends told him she was last seen with me? Or was Bennett with Reed? Hope fluttered back to life, but I forced my face to remain expressionless. Richie raked his eyes over me as though the same question was occurring to him.

"Do you have the contracts signed?" Richie asked, snapping his gaze away from me. "That's the only way out of this mess for your wife. As for the redhead, I might keep her for a little while. She's got some spunk to her."

My blood froze inside my veins. No! I'd rather die than let you touch me.

"No dice, Dalton! You're letting us both go!" Paige barked out.

Richie shot a look to the guard, and he delivered a backhand to Paige, just as he had me. I flinched, but Paige didn't make a sound.

"Send the contract, Parkston. And remember, if I so much as smell a pig, you'll never see your lovely Mrs. again."

He punched off the call before Reed could get a reply and pocketed the phone. He folded his arms over his round chest and alternated fierce glares at Paige and me.

"Final countdown time." He looked at the guard on the left. "Stay here. Make sure they don't do anything stupid."

His orders were given, and he turned and left the room. His right-hand man hot on his heels. The door slammed shut, and the guard leaned against the wall. A pained look crossed his face as he reclined back.

It was the look of a man who'd been on his feet for far too many hours and under too much stress for far too long. He was tall, broad, and thick-necked—Richie definitely had a type.

His features, while strong, were easily forgettable. Dark hair, dark eyes, square jaw, and a few days' worth of stubble over his face, running down his neck. A black t-shirt stretched over his broad chest and he'd tucked it into a pair of well-worn jeans. I knew I'd seen him at the club once or twice but didn't know his name.

Bennett would. He seemed to know everything about Richie's organization. All I could do was hope he knew where Richie liked to take people when he had unfinished business with them.

Assuming he was still alive—and had the capacity to move.

What was it Richie had said? He's on vacation? Wasn't that mobster talk for dead? I shook my head, forcing these dark thoughts from my mind. No, Bennett still had to be alive. I could feel it. I'd know if he was gone. But being alive and being able to help were two different things.

If he was locked up in a cell, injured, or trapped somewhere, he wouldn't even know anything was wrong. Richie thought that we were casually acquainted, just two people hooking up at a sex club.

He had no idea the depth of our relationship. Otherwise, I had no doubt I'd be used as leverage to get Bennett to do the same monkey dance that Reed was being forced into. What would he make Bennett do if he knew he could ask for anything and have it granted?

I shuddered at the thought.

"Your name is Lars, isn't it?" Paige said, directing her attention to our new babysitter.

The man lifted a thick eyebrow but didn't give her an answer.

"Lars, please, you have to see that what your boss is doing is wrong," Paige continued.

I held my breath, unsure that she was taking the right approach. If Lars was in with the mob boss, he likely didn't have a firm grip on his internal moral compass. But to my surprise, a flicker of emotion crossed the man's blank face.

"We didn't do anything to deserve this," Paige pressed. "He's trying to steal the club, and that's fine. He can have it, but he has to let us go."

Lars—if that was, in fact, his name—pushed off the wall, scowling. "So, what? You want me to cut you loose? Let you go? Say you got the drop on me?"

"I have money," Paige answered frantically. "I can wire it anywhere you want. You can start over. Get out of this business. Wouldn't you like that? Freedom?"

Lars' lips twisted into a smile. "There's no such thing."

Paige started to object but stopped as the man lifted his shirt to reveal a long bandage that took up the better part of his right side. The white bandage was speckled with bright red drops of blood. He pulled back the side of the gauze to reveal a red laceration on his side that had barely begun to knit together.

"See, this is what happens when you don't follow orders. Dalton gave me this three days ago after he found me falling asleep on my watch. He's got some big shit going down right now, and I was supposed to be watching out to make sure no one was—well, you don't need the details, though I doubt you'll be around long enough to tell anyone a word I say anyway."

He lowered his shirt and moved stiffly to the wall, wincing as he leaned back again. The cut was obviously deep. It would take a long time to heal and leave a permanent scar once he recovered.

Fear ripped through me again at the display of Richie's boundless cruelty. He didn't care who he hurt. Anyone who didn't get in line was at risk of feeling his wrath. I felt Paige's hands shaking, knocking into my own bound hands.

She didn't ask him for help again.

The door opened a third time, and Paige and I jolted upright again. A short, dark-haired man walked into the room. He sneered at Paige and me before turning to Lars.

"Richie's new playthings, huh?"

Lars shrugged but immediately winced as the gesture must have pulled on his wound. "They're from Parkston's."

The second man's eyes gleamed with a wicked lust as he strutted toward us. He stopped at Paige, reaching out to run his fingers over her face.

"You're a pretty thing. I've always liked blondes with big tits. But then, who doesn't? Eh, Lars?" He cast a grin over his shoulder.

"Go to hell," Paige bit out.

The man pulled away. "Mouthy thing, isn't she?"

Lars shifted his weight gingerly. "What are you doing, Vinnie? What do you want?"

Vinnie shrugged and pocketed his hands. "Just checking things out. Heard through the grapevine that Uncle Richie's got some big shipment coming in tonight. You know anything about it?"

Lars eyed the man, not bothering to hide his contempt. "It doesn't concern you. Does Richie even know you're here, snooping around?"

"Yeah. He's the one who told me to come to check out his new friends," he said, casting another lecherous look at Paige before his eyes shifted to mine. I hurried to drop my gaze on my shoes.

"Wait a second," he said. The man stalked back across the small room, bent at the waist to inspect me closer. My heart slammed violently against my ribs, and I worked my wrists together frantically enough that more blood trickled down from the cuts being reopened. The blood worked as a lubricant, and my eyes flew open wide as my thumb slid under the plastic cuff.

"I know this bitch!" He snapped to full standing height, his eyes shining with dark delight. "Go get Richie."

Lars started to object, but Vinnie barked, "Go, now!"

Lars bolted from the room, and Vinnie stalked back over, pulling my hair back and getting within an inch of my face. "You're that fucking bitch from Vegas?—"

My hand slipped completely free of the cuff, and I lashed out, cracking the side of the man's head just before he could finish his statement. Relief and terror surged together, overwhelming my senses as I bashed another punch against Vinnie's head.

The second hit was more brutal and landed right at his temple. He slid to the floor, knocked out cold, and I silently marveled that I'd actually learned something in the self-defense classes I'd taken after moving to Vegas.

"Avery!" Paige hissed, keeping her voice low. "Oh my God!"

I bent over and tore my nails at the thick duct tape encircling my ankles. My nails slashed through the air, making me feel like a wild animal. Behind me, Paige struggled even harder to get free of her own zip tie cuffs. Finally, I got one leg free. Then the other. I kicked my heels off, launched to my feet, and jumped to help Paige break free.

"No!" Paige waved her fingers. "Go! Get out of here while you still can."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You have to! Go, get help! Call the police! Tell them where we are. He can't kill me while he still has Reed on the hook. Go!"

At the fierce look in her eyes, I stopped working. The window for a chance to escape was rapidly closing. Hell, it might already be closed. For all I knew, Richie could be on the other side of the door, his hand on the knob, ready to burst in. I'd be locked up—hurt or worse—and my escape wouldn't get us anywhere.

"Okay," I said, my voice a throaty whisper. "I'll go. But I'm coming back!"

Paige nodded, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Go. I'll be okay."

I squeezed her hands and then released her just as quickly before I could change my mind. I stepped over the body of the unconscious Vinnie and then stooped over to tug the gun free from the back of his jeans. The gun felt strange in my hand, but I forced myself to carry it with a confidence I didn't feel as I bolted across the room and lunged for the door.

I silently opened it a crack, glanced both ways and cocked an ear to listen for footsteps. For the moment, the coast was clear. I threw a final pained glance back at Paige, and she gave me a watery smile. "Give ‘em hell, girl."

I pinched my eyes closed, pushed the door fully open, and ran like hell.