“Help us find Vince Littleton,” he said in passing.
“Sure,” they said in unison, turning to follow Sebastian back upstairs. When they topped the steps, Sebastian pointed to the right. “Follow that hall. Check every room. I need to find him.”
“Kimberly!” he yelled, stomping toward his bedroom.
Wyatt was behind him when he came to an abrupt halt. Jiggling the doorknob, he pounded the panels with his free fist. “Kimberly! Open up!”
“Shit!” Wyatt screamed, backing up a step then throwing his weight against the door.
“That won’t work,” Sebastian informed him. “This house was built for privacy and protection.”
“Fuck privacy and protection!” Wyatt bellowed, backing up against the opposite hall and rushing the door again.
This time, the door gave and they broke into Sebastian’s locked bedroom. “Kimberly!”
While Wyatt checked the bathroom, Sebastian rushed the bay window. He searched the lawn, looking for signs of Littleton and Kimberly.
“Shit!” he screamed, darting for the hallway. “He’s got her! He just threw her in the trunk of his car!”
“What?” Cherie was on the stairs when he ran past her.
“It’s Kimberly Cartwell. Vince Littleton just left here with her. I saw him throw her in the trunk of his car. Someone call 9-1-1. And no one leaves here! Do you hear me? No one!”
Cherie quickly nodded and Sebastian raced for the service kitchen. He snatched two sets of keys from the hook located next to the back door. Tossing one set at Wyatt as he caught up with him in the driveway, he said, “North. Take I-26 toward Asheville.”
“We’ll find her,” Wyatt said, digging in his pocket.
“I pray to God you have your phone,” Sebastian said, realizing Wyatt rarely kept in touch with anyone enough to worry about carrying his cell.
“Got it,” Wyatt said, rushing the black sedan parked in Sebastian’s garage.
By the time Wyatt backed out of the garage, Sebastian was bumping his sports car into fourth gear, flying down the driveway in hot pursuit of Vince Littleton and the woman he was terribly afraid he might lose before he had a chance to love her.
Hours later, they returned defeated, broken, and blaming themselves. Wyatt didn’t have to ask, he could see it all over Sebastian’s face. He realized he’d missed something when he’d performed background checks on his guests. The Elite Gentleman’s Club had allowed a membership for a man who had ulterior motives when he joined their ranks.
Jaelon and Cherie met them in the foyer. Sebastian handed Jaelon his umbrella in passing and stopped short of entering the study. Cocking his head as if he were listening for something in particular, he said, “It’s surprisingly quiet.”
“The party moved to the Rockwell estate,” Cherie informed him. “All the guests were interviewed here then escorted over to the Rockwells’ for further questioning.”
“This is a nightmare,” Sebastian said, dragging his hand down his face.
“Has anyone notified the Cartwells?” Jaelon asked.
Sebastian stared at him blankly. “Are they here?”
“No,” Jaelon replied, dumbfounded.
“Then you can bet your sweet ass no one has told them.”
Wyatt’s thoughts exactly.
“I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” Cherie said, dropping her head. “This is all my fault.”
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, a touch of cruelty in his voice. “And you can bet
your
sweet ass Kimberly would be here now if you had taken the time to talk to me or Wyatt about your experiences with Vince Littleton. If you’d needed the money that desperately, hell, I would’ve spotted you a loan.”
Cherie gasped. “I’m…I’m sorry, Sebastian.”
“Pointing fingers won’t solve the problem,” Jaelon called after him as Sebastian stomped upstairs.
Wyatt squeezed Cherie’s arm in passing. “Get some sleep, Cherie. The state police will be looking for Littleton’s car tonight. We’ll call the Cartwells in the morning.”
“I’m so sorry,” Cherie whispered, covering her mouth. “She’s the one, isn’t she? I mean, I thought she was the one, but I couldn’t be sure. Now, looking at your faces, seeing Sebastian so distraught, it explains everything.”
Wyatt stopped at the bottom of the steps. He slowly turned to face her. His gaze shifted to Jaelon, who had always known.
“Yes, Cherie, she’s always been the one,” Wyatt said.
She fell into Jaelon’s arms and Wyatt went upstairs. Sebastian would undoubtedly want to place blame at his feet as well. Wyatt was fully prepared to accept his portion.
Entering the master suite, he glanced at the door, barely hanging on its hinges. “You owe Cherie an apology.”
Sebastian didn’t respond. He remained stoic.
“Jaelon, too.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“We can’t blame everyone, Sebastian. If anyone needs fingers wagged in their direction, it’s us. We were trained to protect. Kimberly had gained significant interest from Sweden. We realized he had the means to secure a transaction.” A beat later he said, “Don’t shut out the people who can help you. Apologize to Cherie and Jaelon.”
“Hell and damnation!” Sebastian bellowed. “Is there anyone else you can think of? How about Kane Cartwell? What about the McKays? Have you thought about them? While we’re at it, why don’t you pick up the phone and call her sisters. I’m sure Ansley and Trixie would love to hear from us at this hour. Go ahead. Call them and apologize to them, too!”
Wyatt took a deep breath. “We need to think about notifying them as a matter of fact. Fletcher is only two and a half hours away. The Cartwells travel in the same circles as we do. How long do you think it will take for them to hear the news?”
Sebastian was seething. He gritted his teeth and mumbled something about Vince and delivering slow death. Wyatt carefully approached him at the window.
“Where could she be?” he finally asked.
“It’s hard to say if Sweden is behind this,” Wyatt replied. “I did some checking. Vince Littleton has endless resources according to what a few PIs told me. Then I talked to the detectives. Sebastian, we’ll be lucky if Vince doesn’t flee the country considering the pending charges against him.”
“What are you talking about?” Sebastian slowly faced him. His eyes were swollen and the dark shadows surrounding them made him look haunted.
“They didn’t tell you? Sebastian, the entire community was fooled. Littleton has a record. He’s wanted in three states.”
“For what?”
Wyatt could barely force the word past his lips. “Rape.”
Sebastian immediately slumped to the settee. “This can’t be.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “The Elite Gentleman’s Club has prided itself on thorough background checks since its conception.”
“I think we need to call Kane,” Wyatt said. “He has connections you and I don’t have.”
“The hell he does.” Sebastian quickly stood again. He stalked his roll top desk. Once there, he retrieved two little black books from the letter-size compartment in the middle. “Here. Start texting.”
“Who are these people?” Wyatt asked, taking one of the address books and flipping through the names and numbers.
“They’re active in the lifestyle. Group together text messages and give them limited details. We don’t want to create a sense of alarm, because if Vince suspects anything, he’ll run before we can reach out to the folks who can help us.”
“Sebastian, we need to come to terms with the possibility they’ve probably left the state. We need to pull resources from outside the community.”
“I don’t have to come to terms with anything!” he yelled. “I’ve waited for her! Damn it. You of all people ought to understand!”
“She doesn’t even remember when you bought and paid for her time,” Wyatt told him, putting that tidbit of information on the table. “You took her to your bed and didn’t even tell her what you suspected. I didn’t mention the proof we had. Our mistake may cost her.”
Sebastian closed his eyes. “How do you tell a woman the man she trusted most drugged her on countless occasions and paraded her around like a bought whore?”
“You first start by mentioning the times when you saved her.”
“Well maybe I’ll do just that if I ever have the opportunity to hold her in my arms again!”
“Sebastian.” Cherie entered the bedroom. “I overheard you from the hallway. I’d like to help.”
Sebastian glared at her as if he didn’t even see her. Finally, he ripped a few pages from the back of one of the small books. “Get with Jaelon and see if he’ll send out a few text messages, too.”
She nodded. “We’ll find her, Sebastian. I swear it.”
* * * *
“Get out!” Cold hands locked around Kimberly’s wrists. She was tugged away from the car in one fluid motion.
Kimberly glared at her captor, trying to figure out how many times she’d seen him before. He’d attended several local events. He’d been at dinner parties she and Jason had attended. And there were two things of which she was absolutely certain.
His name was Vince and he was very cruel to submissive women.
Wearing an evil smile about as confidently as he wore his expensive suit, Vince flipped a piece of lint from his sleeve. “We’re going in and you’re expected to behave.”
Kimberly nodded, determined to play the part of doped-out and delusional. Prior to opening the trunk, he was on the phone and Kimberly overheard the entire conversation. He’d boasted about having her. He’d bragged about drugging her out of her mind.
She hoped she could play a convincing role.
“Say, ‘yes, Sir,’” he demanded, slapping her face.
“Yes, Sir,” she repeated, not at all willing to make eye contact until he forced her to look at him.
“That didn’t hurt?” he asked, grabbing her chin so firmly she could’ve sworn he cracked a bone.
“Yes, Sir,” she said, nearly mechanically.
His lips twitched. “You are a pretty thing. I see why Neely is crazy about you. What I don’t understand is why he was willing to negotiate with Sweden.”
She gazed into his empty eyes, pretending hers were just as empty. What negotiation? Had Vince mentioned a business deal between Jason and this Sweden person for a reason? Did he expect her to respond?
“Will Jason be glad to see you once he knows you fucked those two rich pricks?” he asked, grabbing his balls and yanking himself in a crude manner. “I asked you a question.”
Yes, and apparently the dumb fuck liked carrying on a one-sided conversation.
He snickered. “Defiant and blitzed. That’s exactly how I like my women.”
If he only knew how alert she’d become, perhaps he wouldn’t act like such an arrogant ass. Then again, if he suspected the dope had worn off, he might give her another injection. With the earlier chloroform, she couldn’t risk further doping. She suspected he’d given her a sedative right after he’d abducted her, but what if the serum was more toxic?
“Come on, pretty woman. Let me show you off like Neely might. Let’s see how many men turn and look at you tonight.”
After riding in the trunk for God only knew how long, she doubted too many men would take a second look. Then again, she reminded herself, it only took one onlooker, someone to recognize her enough to help her out of this situation.
She studied the sign hanging lopsided over the building. The neon blue sign read
Exploitation.
She’d been here before. It seemed like a dozen years had passed since the last time she’d visited, but she had definitely been inside the establishment.
Right after Jason had brought her there, Ansley had mentioned the club, too. Exploitation
had been in and out of court in some of the nastiest legal battles ever endured by a kink club. The community leaders argued the morality views. Wives protested about the marital hardships.
Somehow the club managed to persevere. They stayed in business in spite of opposition. It was a third-rate joint, a real seedy place, but a lot of high-powered Doms still frequented what was once dubbed Columbia’s only kink club.
Would someone recognize her? She could only hope and pray now.
“Stay close,” Vince said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her alongside him. “If you don’t, I’ll go after your daddy and your sisters. Your former honey told me you’re quite fond of that nephew, too. I could do a few things to ruin the boy. Ya know?”
Kimberly went numb. The threat to Cazeron hung in the balance. Where had this guy gained his information? Would Jason really stoop to such levels, or was Vince lying and manipulating what information he had in an effort to frighten her?
Before they entered the club, Vince threw her against the brick wall and held her by her throat. “We walk in there and you’re my woman. You’re submissive to me. Understood?”
She nodded once.
He snarled. “If you’re a good little kitten, I might even let you dance for me tonight. Would you like that?”
Kimberly flinched as he stroked her head.
“I knew you would,” Vince said. “You and I are gonna have a fine time together, kitten.”