Authors: Barbara Elsborg
“Are my employees good pupils?” he asked as they walked.
“They try hard. The more they talk, the better they’ll get,
but I suspect they speak their own language when they’re together.”
Marco opened the door of the restaurant and a man came
rushing over to shake his hand. She hung back as they exchanged a few words and
then Marco beckoned her to follow. There was a difference between being an
alpha male and being a prick. Marco was used to getting his way and expected
everyone to jump when he told them to.
They were seated in a small annex with three tables, none of
which were occupied, and her coat was whisked away. She pushed the folder and
her purse under her seat before they were grabbed too.
“Champagne?”
“Well, I—” She wondered why he’d asked when a waiter
appeared with a bottle and glasses. “Are you celebrating something?”
Do not
drink more than one glass.
“An opportunity to dine with a beautiful woman.”
“You’re a woman?”
Marco stared at her and then burst out laughing.
Oh crap.
She didn’t ought to make him laugh. She
buried her face in the menu.
Marco lifted it from her. “I’ll choose.”
“No ox penis,” slipped out before she could stop it. She bit
back her smile at his snort of disbelief.
“I’ll be sure to tell them,” he said.
Her pulse raced. He’d asked her to dinner for a reason, but
she was afraid to ask why. On the other hand, this was an opportunity to learn
more about him. Matt would throw a fit when he discovered what she’d done, but
if Marco was the boss, anything she found out might be useful. Now was her
chance to act the spy she’d decided to be when she was fourteen. Of course, by
fifteen she wanted to be a pilot.
“Hungry?” He stared as though he wanted to eat her, and not
in a nice way.
Wren chewed her lip.
He frowned. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m rubbish with chopsticks and you’re wearing a nice
shirt.”
Marco chuckled. He wouldn’t be laughing when she’d
splattered him. He twirled his glass and she dropped her gaze from his hands to
concentrate on the ordinary, plain white tablecloth.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
She looked around. They were the only two in there. “You’re
the ugliest man.”
Marco grinned.
“Are you married?”
His expression immediately darkened and he put the glass
down so quickly, champagne splashed onto his hand. “No.”
She was mortified. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I
was
married. I had a wife and two sons. They’re
dead.”
Even though she knew this guy was as bad as could be, her
heart ached for him. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered.
“That’s why I came here, to start a new life, a new
business, find new friends.”
The food arrived and kept on coming until the table was
full.
“There’s far too much,” she said.
“You don’t have to eat it all.”
“Good thing my mother didn’t hear you say that.”
He smiled. “Mine would say the same.”
She felt his foot rub against hers under the table and
pulled away.
Shit.
“I assume you were the reason Tomas was unavailable to work
last night?”
“You already made him miss our first date. He didn’t want to
disappoint me again. So yes, my fault.”
“Not sure how I feel about not being a priority.”
She took a swallow of champagne, dismayed to realize she’d
finished the glass.
“I think you
do
know how you feel.” She raised her
head. “You don’t like it.”
He refilled her glass.
Don’t drink any more.
“So is that was this is about?” she asked, her throat
drying. “You’re teaching Tomas a lesson? Taking his girlfriend out. Showing him
you’re in control of his life?”
Marco stared at her. “It was.”
Uh-oh.
“But I find you…interesting.”
Not good. Try to be boring as well as
not amusing.
“What languages do you speak?” he asked.
“Several, but not Albanian.”
“So I can say what I like about you and you won’t
understand.”
“
Antolle ulua sulrim. Auta miqula orqu.
”
Marco frowned.
“And I’ve said what I think about you and you didn’t
understand.” She’d said in Elvish—
much wind pours from your mouth. Go kiss
an orc
.
He nodded. “I think you said you want to fuck me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “No, that was
hit
you.”
He leaned forward. “We can play that game too.”
Oh God, drowning.
She was in way over her head.
“You like pain with your pleasure? Tomas doesn’t like to hit
women. I enjoy it.”
She stood.
“Sit.” His gaze hardened into a lethal glare.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” Wren turned her back on him
before she pulled her purse from under the chair. She grabbed the folder at the
same time but hid what she’d done. His stare bored into her as she walked away.
Marco scared her. She wished Tomas had picked her up from
Headingley. She’d call him now if she had her phone. Why did she have to lose
the bloody thing today? She headed down a corridor toward the toilets and
slipped inside the ladies’. Behind the door of a stall, she pulled out the note
Danijela had given her.
Tonight at nine Church Street. Wait until ten.
She
sighed. She hadn’t thought it would be a request to meet.
Damn.
Did it
mean
she
was to wait or Danijela would wait? She thought about flushing
the paper, changed her mind and put it in her pocket. Then changed her mind
again and put it in her shoe. If something happened to her, it would be a clue.
Wren gulped. If she went back to Marco the chances of something happening were
a lot higher than if she left right now.
There was no point looking for a way out in the bathroom. In
books and movies, there was always a window to wriggle through, but never in
real life. Why would restaurants make it easy for customers to sneak out
without paying? She felt justified in leaving after that comment from Marco. A
man who found pleasure in hurting someone else wasn’t worth a second of her
time.
Wren walked straight out of the main entrance, head high,
and once she was round the corner, she ran like hell.
* * * * *
Tomas seethed as he pulled back into the motorway traffic.
He’d been unlucky to get stopped for speeding, but it wasn’t the ticket he
minded so much as the time it ate. The lights of Leeds had just come into view
when Adam called again.
“Hi,” Tomas said.
“Have you heard from her?”
“No. I’m almost back in Leeds. I’ll drive to her house.”
“No point. I’ve just come from there. It’s dark. No sign of
her. I don’t understand why she hasn’t been in touch. We didn’t do anything to
upset her, did we? Maybe she changed her mind about the three of us. I just
don’t want there to be a reason she
can’t
contact us.”
“I’m sure everything’s fine.” No, he wasn’t. “Even though I
asked her not to, I suspect she went to do that teaching job for my boss.”
“The strippers?”
He heard the disbelief in Adam’s voice. “Yeah.”
Adam was silent for a moment as though giving him chance to
tell the truth—or hang himself.
“Well, why don’t you go to the place where they work? You
could at least find out if they saw Wren earlier.”
“Good idea.” Except they might or might not be in any one of
the spots in the city where they stood to pick up men. Or Marco might have
arranged some private party. What was Tomas supposed to do? Drive round Leeds
looking?
“Tomas? I know there’s a lot you aren’t telling me. I’m
guessing you’re in some sort of trouble. There’s
nothing
that can’t be
put right. But don’t you dare fucking come back without Wren.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wren sprinted through the streets of Leeds.
I’m an idiot.
Why did I run?
What did she think would happen in a restaurant?
I might
have been beaten to a pulp in a backroom or ended up in the cooking pot. A new
garnish on the ox-penis dish.
She turned off the Headrow and headed down
Brigate, past Harvey Nics. She was frozen, the cold seeping into her bones, and
suspected it was the last she’d see of her coat. She had no idea if she was
being followed, but just in case, darted into one of the shopping arcades, left
by the lower entrance and then headed for the Corn Exchange. It was 9:40.
Church Street ran toward Leeds Parish Church. The road
curved and she couldn’t see to the end. Jovana could be at the bottom. Wren
kept walking because it was too cold to stand still. When Jovana stepped out of
a doorway, Wren almost jumped out of her shoes.
Jovana yanked her out of sight, back into the doorway. “Were
you followed?”
“No.”
I hope not.
“Where’s your coat?”
Jovana’s coat was open. She wore knee-high boots and the
shortest, tightest red dress Wren had ever seen.
“In the restaurant. Along with Marco. I walked out.”
Jovana smiled and then gasped. “You left the note?”
“That’s in my shoe.”
“Destroy it. I don’t have long. My first night in this spot.
Veton drive past to check on us. If I tell you—hide behind me.”
“Okay.”
Jovana took a deep breath. “I trusting you. I think you want
help and I don’t have anyone to ask. I look for my friend Lule Kona. You hear
her name?”
She shook her head. As far as she could remember, that
wasn’t a name on any of the registers.
“Marco came to our town, pretended to like her, asked her to
live in England with him. Asked me to go too. Said he find us jobs. We come
together. We owe him money for transport, food, place to live, clothes.”
“And my lessons,” Wren said in a quiet voice.
Jovana nodded. “When we got here, he separate. I don’t know
where Lule go.”
“Why don’t you go home?”
“No passport. No money. Marco find ways to show us not good
idea. Threat to tell parents what we do, to take sister, brother, cut us, kill
us, do same to friends. He use us, give us drugs so we do anything he want. I
pretend tonight to get out of house.”
Wren knew, had guessed, and yet hearing it still killed
something inside her. “Tomas…”
“Different, yet same.”
She took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do? How can
I help you?”
Jovana sucked in her cheeks. “Find Lule. Her mother—”
The tip-tap of someone approaching in heels grew louder and
Jovana stepped out of the doorway.
“Hi, Jo, I’m back,” said a woman. “Christ, it’s colder than
a snowman’s cock. My bum’s freezing. I hope the next guy has a car with heated
seats.” She broke off her giggle when she saw Wren. “Who’s that?”
“Friend.”
Wren stepped fully out of the doorway. The face of the woman
next to Jovana shone pale in the lamplight. She wore a coat with a furry hood
but her legs were bare and her heels very high.
“Are you one of Marco’s? Where’s your coat? Jesus, you’ll
freeze to death.”
“Guy got rough and she leave,” Jovana said.
“Bastard. I’m Juno.”
“Robin,” Wren said and then realized she’d not thought that
through. Another bloody little bird.
A car cruised to a halt next to them and the window went
down.
“Mine,” Jovana said quietly and Juno backed off.
Wren watched and listened in fascinated horror as Jovana
chatted to the driver. The guy was her dad’s age. As Jovana opened the door to
get inside, the his gaze slid past her to Wren.
“How much for the two of you?” He beckoned Wren, whose feet
were set in concrete.
Juno stepped forward. “You could have fun with me.”
The guy shook his head. “Not you.”
As Juno glared at Wren, Jovana pulled open the rear door of
the car, grabbed Wren’s arm and pulled.
“Veton here,” she whispered in Wren’s ear.
Aware of headlights coming from the other direction, Wren
clambered into the back. Jovana sat in the front and the car pulled away. Wren
fumbled for the seat belt.
“Where are we going?” the guy asked.
Wren nearly yelled,
drop me at the next corner
.
“You have a place?” he asked.
The car reeked of cigarettes and she felt sick.
“You could get room,” Jovana said. “Good rate Madely Hotel.”
The guy snorted. “That dump? I’m not leaving my car there.
I’ll find a place.”
Wren stared out the window as the city receded behind them.
“What are your names,” he asked.
“Jo. She’s Robin.”
“I’m Ben.” He glanced at her in the mirror. “Can she speak?”
“She’s shy.” Jovana slid her hand over the guy’s shoulder.
Oh my God.
Panic surged in Wren’s chest until she
couldn’t breathe. What the hell was she doing? More goose bumps joined the ones
she already had until she was prickling all over. The man started to talk about
what he wanted them to do, how much he’d pay, and she tried to dissolve into
the seat. What if he got angry when she said no? What if he hurt Jovana? What
if…
She found it impossible to understand why Jovana did this.
There had to be an alternative. Couldn’t the police protect her family?
The guy drove through Headingley and Lawnswood and was now
on the road to Bramhope. Pretty soon they’d be out in the countryside. He might
be going to kill them. Every one of her organs tensed with fear. If she ran and
Jovana didn’t, what if he hurt Jovana? What if he drove at her and knocked her
over? What…what…what… She couldn’t breathe for the
whats
tumbling in her
head.
She cringed at the thought of her father’s disappointment.
She’d done everything he’d told her never to do. Guilt bubbled alongside fear.
The man pulled into Golden Acre Park and drove to the far side of the parking
lot where it was dark, and switched off his engine. No people walking dogs. No
other cars around. She’d been for walks here with her mum and dad to feed the
ducks. The park was nowhere near any houses. They could scream and not be
heard. They could—
Ben lunged at Jovana and Wren let out a high-pitched yip of
alarm.
“Money first,” Jovana said.
As the man took out his wallet and fingered the notes
inside, Wren took a deep breath. “You’re under arrest. I have to advise you
that paying for sexual services is a crime under section 19, paragraph 4a of
the 1963 Act.” She wondered if she’d just quoted a law against selling sheep on
a Sunday. She
did
know how to caution him though. Her brothers had done
it to her often enough when they were playing. “You have the right to remain
silent—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” The man turned to
face her. “You’re the fucking police? I don’t believe this. It’s entrapment.”
“We not police.” Jovana glared at Wren.
“It’s not entrapment.” Wren tried to sound confident. “You
stopped your car with the express purpose of procuring sex for money. You asked
how much, you drove us here with the intention of paying for us to have sex
with you and…each other.”
The guy spun round, checking the parking lot, probably
looking for more police, and then stuffed the notes back in his wallet.
“Noooo,” Jovana wailed and tried to grab his hand.
He pushed her away. “Get out. Get the fuck out of my car.”
Wren unfastened her seat belt and opened the car door but
waited until Jovana was clear before she climbed out herself. Then she bent
down and stared at the driver. “I have your car registration.”
He zoomed away, spitting dirt and leaves back at them, the
door not properly shut. Wren breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Jovana.
“You police?” Jovana’s voice was so quiet, she could hardly
hear her.
“No.”
“Then why you do this?”
“You can’t have wanted to have sex with him.”
“I don’t want to fuck any of them, but I need money. Now
there will be trouble. I have to have money.” She burst into tears.
Oh damn.
“Jovana, don’t cry. You don’t have to go
back to Marco.”
“You stupid? Yes, I have to go back. They hurt me if I don’t
do what they want. Then they hurt others because of me. I do what they say and
one day I earn enough to leave.”
“Which will be never. My brothers are policemen. They’ll
help. They can arrest Marco.”
Jovana shook her head. “No. He’s too slippery. Like eel. I
call Veton. I tell him man pushed me from car and left. You go away.”
“Not Veton. Call Tomas.”
Jovana hesitated. “If trouble I supposed to call Veton.”
“Please call Tomas. He’ll take me home.”
Jovana took her phone from her purse. “Hi. It’s me. Jerk
pushed—” She cut off the call and made another. “Now Veton know I call him first.
He think I try to call him back if he call me now.”
Wren stood shivering as Jovana spoke on her mobile. “Tomas.
I need lift… Man drove off. No, didn’t hurt me… Golden Acre Park. You know it?
Call Veton and tell him you coming. I got cut off… No, I need you come. Wren
with me… Okay.”
She handed Wren her phone and walked across the parking lot
toward the road.
Wren braced herself. “Hello.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
She heard a sigh of relief.
“What the hell you doing with Jovana in middle of nowhere?”
Now he was angry.
“Trying to help her. Tomas, I don’t want you to work for
Marco.” She held her breath after she’d zipped out the words.
There was a long pause before he spoke. “You don’t
understand.”
She gulped. “Yeah, I do. Marco is bringing women into this
country and forcing them to become prostitutes. He might even bring some of
them in legally as students at Ezispeke. He’s probably come to an arrangement
with Olive and is using the business to launder money. He threatens the women
or their families with violence if they don’t cooperate. He gives them drugs to
get them addicted. They end up owing him money and he can use them as long as
he wants. And you’re helping him.”
She blinked tears from her eyes and clutched the phone
harder.
Please deny it. Please. Please.
“Stay out of this. You’ll get hurt.”
“I’m already hurt.” Wren cut the connection, walked over to
Jovana and handed her the phone.
She knew the right thing to do was to talk to her father and
confess everything. Almost everything. She’d have to tell him about Tomas
working for Marco. She’d only known the guy for a few days, why was she even
hesitating? She rubbed her arms to try to warm up.
Adam was going to get hurt too. She’d really started to
believe the three of them had a chance at happiness, but not if Tomas was
involved with Marco. Maybe she could persuade him to walk away. Even better if
he’d talk to the police. He might not get too long in jail.
Oh Christ. Why
am I doing this all over again?
She ought to stick to liking bad guys in
books, not in real life. This time the stakes were a lot higher than her bank
account. People could get hurt.
Were
getting hurt. She wanted to believe
Tomas wouldn’t let her be one of them but he was deep inside this mess and she
couldn’t see an easy way out.
To distract herself, she opened the folder and in the dim
streetlight checked for Lule’s name.
“What you doing?” Jovana asked.
“These are old registers of the classes at the language
school. I was looking for Lule’s name.”
“You find it?”
Wren closed the folder. “No. How can I help
you
?”
“Find Lule. That help. But don’t interfere with what Marco
do. That don’t help.” Jovana leaned against the sign for the park. “You have
money?”
Wren took out the two hundred pounds Marco had just given
her, hesitated and added the other two hundred. “That’s everything Marco paid
me to teach you.”
Jovana slipped it into her purse. “Thank you.”
Wren was so cold her teeth chattered. Her eyes stung with
unshed tears. The thin sweater offered no protection against the icy wind. She
pulled her sleeves down over her hands and wrapped her arms around herself,
clutching the folder to her chest.
“Is not good to love them,” Jovana said. “That’s what they
want. Then they hurt you more.”
Tomas is different. But is that because I want him to be
different?
She had to do the right thing here even if it meant losing what
she was coming to think was the best thing that had ever happened to her
Jovana lit a cigarette and offered her the packet. “You
want?”
“No thank you. I don’t smoke.”
She snorted. “You good girl now, but they make you bad
girl.”
A car swept into the parking lot and Wren tensed. Tomas
jumped out and pulled her into his arms. She shouldn’t have let him hug her and
yet she wanted him to hold her tighter.
“I could strangle you,” he whispered. “Not one word.”
Jovana got into the back of the car and Tomas ushered Wren
into the front seat. She groaned with relief at the warmth and clicked on her
seat belt. As Tomas pulled back onto the road, he and Jovana snapped in
Albanian. Neither sounded happy. Wren opened her mouth and then closed it
again. She felt him glance at her, but kept her attention on the road ahead.
“Don’t be mad with her,” Jovana said in English. “She want
to help.”
Tomas’ fingers tightened around the wheel. She hoped he
wasn’t imagining doing the same to her neck.
He dropped Jovana back on Church Street and Wren swallowed
hard as he pulled away.
“Jesus, Wren. What were you thinking?”
“When?”
“Going with Jovana? You could—Christ.”
“But—”
“Do you have any idea how worried we were?”
His English seemed better now he was cross.