Red Hot Obsessions (103 page)

“Tristan?”

“Yes, it’s me, Allie.” He squeezed the pain back, trying to cover that I’d hurt him.

I threw myself at the black silhouette. Everything inside my body had told me he would be here, waiting for me. And he was, and his arms felt like I’d just been embraced by an angel. Why did I hurt him?

“I’m sorry.” I knelt at his side, leaning down into his arms. “You should have told me you’d be in the room. I could have really hurt you. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I needed you afraid. Very afraid.”

Well, it worked.

“She wasn’t there.” I’d just noticed I was panting.

“I know, Allie. Otherwise she’d be in this room, like we planned. Are you okay?” He pushed himself off the floor, still groaning, and turned on the lamp.

“Yes.” My answer came out in a whimper.

“Come here.” He pulled me tighter into his arms, sitting up on the floor, and then whispered, “You’re all right now, Allie. You’re all right.”

I remembered the promise I’d made to myself that I would never let another woman down when she was in need. I owed it to my mother, whom I’d already disappointed. Yet downstairs, I’d left so many of them all alone. That old familiar guilt returned. I held on tight, gripping Tristan’s shirt until my fingers ached.

“Shh,” he cooed.

My body shook in his arms for several minutes before we moved to the couch in the corner. I sat in his lap like a little child, leaning against his chest, and he cradled me in his arms. The shock of what I’d seen began to fade, but it would take a while before I found control over myself.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” I sobbed into his shoulder. “All those helpless girls...”

“Just say the word, and you won’t have to.”

“What about Kendra?”

“We’ll figure out a different way.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You said this is our only chance. I don’t want to fail you, but these girls, these helpless women. Who’s going to save them?”

“One at a time, babe. One at a time. Even I don’t have the power to save them all, or you know I would. Infiltrating this circle was tough enough, but I do promise you, after Kendra, we’ll do everything we can to save as many as we can.”

“Okay.” I wiped my nose on his shirt.

He scooped me up under my knees and carried me to the bathroom. The dim lighting felt soothing.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

I nodded.

Tristan set me down as if I were made of porcelain. The sound of water pouring into the tub and aloe smell of the bubbles comforted me. He undressed me while I stood still, frozen in one spot. Steam began to rise and moisten my skin. Guiding me by my elbow, he helped me step into the tub. I couldn’t speak. Memories of what I’d seen downstairs flashed through my mind. The disgust piled up in my stomach, mixed with a feeling of pure helplessness. I couldn’t even provide a little comfort to those women, just to show someone cared, so they knew what had happened hadn’t gone unnoticed. Instead, I had just stood there, like a victim, unable to help them. I’d promised myself I’d never be a victim again, yet there I was, doing absolutely nothing. My toes warmed. The cold began to drift away from my body and I hugged my knees to my chest.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

I didn’t say anything. The feeling would pass; I knew it would. And it wasn’t even about me. I couldn’t stop thinking about those poor girls, most of whom hadn’t experienced love and sex the way a girl should. They’d been abandoned, alone; or perhaps they were so drugged up they couldn’t feel? No, I knew they’d felt it. In between the smell of smoke, sweat, and even semen, I’d smelled fear and despair.

God, it hurt! It hurt so bad inside. Like that day Wright took everything away from us. These men were taking everything from these women. Why?

I broke down. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. The tears spilled like an overflowing dam. Tristan cooed comforting words I couldn’t hear while I sobbed. He turned off the water, soaped the sponge, knelt at the side of the tub, and washed me without saying a word.

“Press harder.” I blinked, the last tears dripping off my lashes. I promised myself they were the last ones. I had no room in my soul to cry, and could only help the girls and women if I was strong. For them—I had to do it for them. One day I’d find a way to help them.

The pressure of the scrubber felt good. It didn’t hurt. A sponge is a sponge, but I wanted to make sure every inch of my skin was washed. Somehow everything I’d experienced tonight clung to my body. I didn’t think I could stand another smell of cigar, not tonight. And I needed tequila, badly.

“I can take you home,” he said, lowering the shower head.

I leaned my head back saying, “Not yet. I’m tired.”

He washed my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp. The pads of his fingers hit the perfect pressure points. I was finally beginning to feel like Allie Green. When he rinsed the shampoo, it was as if my weakness washed away as well. I refocused on the task, but couldn’t deny that emotions had drained me this evening. Tristan wrapped a fresh towel around my hair and helped me into a robe.

I looked at his eyes, underlined with shades of worry. For the first time tonight I noticed the concern and fear in them. The job had taken its toll on him as well. It was a burden he’d carried without saying much. The nights he’d spent at his computer, the scouting, constant interviews with hookers on the street, all in disguise—Tristan had poured his heart and soul into finding Kendra.

“All right. I’m here. I won’t leave you, Allie.”

I yawned.

We lay down on the bed. I crunched up into a fetal position, feeling his arms around me. He pulled the duvet over us both.

“Thank you. We’ll get her. I promise.” I closed my eyes, finally feeling some normality tonight.

“You have nothing to thank me for. I owe you more than my life for this.” He scooped me in, and my back pressed to his chest.

“I’m just doing my job.” My eyelids felt heavy. It wasn’t late, maybe nine in the evening, but it may as well have been two, and when I woke up a few hours later it took me a while to get my bearings.

Tristan was snuggled against a pillow with his mouth open. I removed the towel from my dampened hair and brushed it out. After a drink of water, my mind was fully awake. Without making any noise, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a waterfall blouse, took some cash, and headed downstairs. The lobby bar was quiet, with only a couple of patrons enjoying a late night conversation. The bartender seemed ready to go home. His eyes were half closed.

I tapped the bar. “Tequila. And leave the bottle please.” My reflection in the mirror behind the bottles took me aback. Without makeup and my hair straightened I looked so regular and felt more like the Allie Green I knew.

“Are you alone?” Someone sat beside me. He had a thick Spanish accent. My stomach tightened at its familiarity.

CHAPTER 17

Inside I shut down. I’d have believed it if every single one of my organs had stopped functioning. The initial instinct to tell him to back off crawled into a corner. I swung back my shot of tequila, letting it wash away my nerves. It flew through my whole body like a bullet of adrenaline and confidence. I had no time to think or feel whether it even burned my throat. My cell phone burned in the back pocket of my jeans, and as much as I wanted to call Tristan, I couldn’t. And all this happened in seconds, as I answered, “I am. Do you like what you see?” I pushed my shoulders together. The loose fabric at my chest flowed down in waves, revealing more of my ample cleavage.

His clammy hand grasped my knee.

“I like. Why don’t you join me at the table?” He pointed to a secluded booth in the corner of the bar, right by the entrance to the washrooms. Someone was seated there already. The petite figure hiding in the shaded seat trembled.

Martinez grabbed the tequila and two shot glasses the bartender passed him. His hand went down to my lower back, guiding me forward. More than not liking him touching me, I hated the pressure of it, and wished that somehow I could alert Tristan. Something about the way one of his fingers pressed harder than the rest reminded me of a gun.

I sat down on the window side of the booth. The green plants behind me obstructed the street view. The girl across from me lifted her head. I gripped my knees, clenching my fists under the table. My tequila-infused blood sped through my veins. I had refused to hope it could be her when I was at the bar, but now that I saw her, my luck couldn’t have been better.

Her eyes were empty and red; she’d been drugged. The glimmer of hope I’d seen on her face in the photos Tristan had showed me was gone. In fact, in none of the photos had she looked so miserable. Her life and strength must have been abandoned a while back. She lifted her hands onto the table. Her wrists were tied with rope, which was in turn fastened to the table’s side leg. But even if she wanted to, I doubted she could find the strength to move. Kendra must have lost half her weight in the past few weeks.

I understood now why Martinez chose this area. It was perfectly concealed, yet had a clear view of the outside from behind the green plants. If someone was coming in, he’d know.

“Who’s this?” I nodded toward her.

“Just a bitch.” He poured the tequila into the shot glasses.

“Why the ropes?” Although I knew the answer to that, it was still the appropriate question. Anyone else sitting in my spot would have asked. I had to appear as a regular, curious woman.

“So she obeys. Drink.” It wasn’t a request.

I gulped the tequila down like water. I’d make every effort to cut down on the shots tonight, but judging from the way Martinez gripped the bottle, it wouldn’t be easy.

“You playing zoo animals?” I growled like a tigress.

“Sure. I have a cage, too.”

I didn’t doubt that. But being locked up with this maniac was the last thing on my mind.

“Would she come along?” I raised my brows up and down as if I was actually interested, when in truth, I needed to find out Kendra’s fate.

“No. She’s waiting for her new owner.” He looked at his watch with a frown, and then poured another round of shots. “Once she’s gone, we’ll have time for some fun.”

Had Martinez already sold her? Was Tristan’s intel inaccurate thinking she’d be at the auction or had they decided last minute she’d be sold privately. If that was the case, tonight could be the only chance I had to help Kendra. As much as I wished Tristan were here, if I went to get him now they could be gone before we returned. I couldn’t take that chance. And if I pulled out my phone in front of Martinez, he’d disappear; or worse, hurt her on the spot.

He scanned my body as if it were already naked. The tequila in my stomach pushed right up. I had to force it back down and keep the bile from contracting my throat. Kendra just sat there with her head lowered.

I pouted. “Too bad. Three’s always a better party.”

I must have hit a nerve. Martinez’s weary glare rested on me. What was he thinking? Was I too pushy?

“Drink,” he ordered again. His gaze darkened. I’d seen enough in my time at the strip-club and as a cop to know when a man became dangerous, and in that single moment, Martinez had changed from a scum to a bloody murderer who’d skin me alive and leave my carcass in the desert so the vultures could pick at my flesh until there was nothing left but bare bone. He was just as bad as Wright, if not worse.

I lifted the glass to my mouth, focusing on his eyes. When he threw his shot back and closed his eyes for a split second, my arm shifted. The liquid in my glass flew back right into the plant behind me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Martinez didn’t waste time pouring another one. The bastard was trying to get me drunk. All three of the shots ended up feeding the shrub of a plant behind me. I swayed from side to side and added a giggle or two, fluttering my lashes and leaning forward. He ate it all up.

On the fourth shot, I looked away. But the reflection in the bar mirror showed that he’d slipped a powdery substance into my glass.

When my attention returned to the booth, Kendra’s head flew up, her eyes wide open as if she was trying to warn me of my death trap.

“Bathroom,” she said.

“Hold it. We’re almost done.” Martinez’s gaze never left the lethal shot waiting in front of me.

“I can hold onto your pet in the washroom. Unless you’re afraid she’ll bite.” I leaned back against the seat, indifferent.

He hesitated a moment before saying, “If she escapes, you’re her replacement.”

“Grrr.” I made a cat-like gesture of scratching the air with my nails.

He gripped my wrist before I stood up. “Drink first.”

My poisoned tequila shot waited.

Kendra’s eyes bulged again.

Slowly, he let go of my hand and I picked up the glass. There was no way I could get away with this one, so I looked at Kendra saying, “Let’s go pee-pee,” as if I were a little kid, and downed the shot.

Martinez handed me the rope she was tied to, pleased with himself. We scooted around the booth, and before we entered the bathroom he said, “You have three minutes.”

The door shut closed and I jumped into the first stall and shoved two fingers down my throat. The gag reflex was instant and my tequila along with acidic contents came up and out like a fountain. My stomach tightened once more and my shoulders scrunched forward for another round. Whatever Martinez gave me, it had already begun working into my bloodstream.

“Holy fuck!” Kendra covered her mouth. “Run, you should run while you can,” she barely whispered, her entire body shaking in fear.

I pulled myself up. The room spun a bit and I rinsed my mouth with water. Bracing myself on the sink I took a deep breath, pressed my index to my lips, and looked at her to be quiet.

Hurrying into a stall, just in case Martinez decided to interrupt, I reached into my back pocket for my cell and typed: LOBBY BAR. NOW! BATHROOM.

And I prayed Tristan’s phone wasn’t set to vibrate – or worse yet, silent.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“It’s better you don’t know, but I’m not leaving you with him. What did he slip me?” I worked my fingers past the haze in my eyes on Kendra’s rope. Most of the drug had probably left in the stream of puke, but I was sure not all had, and I was beginning to feel the force of its effects.

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good. He’ll kill us both for this.”

“Why don’t we worry about getting rid of him for now? You seem strong enough. Please tell me you want out of this. We have to work together. I need you on my side, Kendra. Are you with me?” I couldn’t believe how much I wished for my gun at this very moment.

The first rope strap unwound, but there was another one, digging into her flesh. The last knot must have been glued together. The tips of my fingers ached, and after I’d broken a nail it finally let go. Red strands of burnt skin circled her wrists.

“You know who I am?” she asked wearily, looking back at the bathroom door.

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m with you,” she said. A slight hint of hope resonated in her voice.

The room begun to spin.

I looked for another exit, but there wasn’t one, except for a small window. If Tristan didn’t pick up the message, we had to move. Lifting the latch, I opened the window. Cold night air filled the bathroom.

“Do you know who he’s waiting for?”

If something went wrong I needed to know who the buyer was; but of course that would be too much to hope for.

She shook her head sideways.

Martinez knocked on the door. “Hurry up.”

“Almost done,” I said in a half-drunk voice and checked my phone. No reply.

“Is he alone?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. And they’re always armed.”

“I figured.” I pulled out my phone and shoved it down her cleavage right into her bra. Unfortunately in her tight short dress there weren’t too many places to hold a phone. “Tristan’s number is there. He’s in this hotel. Run to a safer place and call him.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t worry.” Except the accelerated speed at which the drugs began working had me doubting just a little. Had I not thrown up, I would probably have been crunched down on the floor, unconscious.

He knocked again.

I didn’t answer this time. We had seconds left.

“Hop up.” I pulled up the only chair in the bathroom for a boost. She sat on the window ledge.

“Grab my arms and lower yourself.” I said.

The jump wasn’t high, but enough to break a leg if I didn’t lower her.

“Do not turn back.” I said looking down at her body swinging below me, her hands clasped with mine. My drugged arms were barely able to hold her frail weight.

The door to the bathroom flew open.

I didn’t turn around.

“You let her go and I will shoot.” Martinez growled. The click of a gun sounded in my ears.

I let go of her hands, mouthing, “Run.”

Once she turned the corner, I said. “It’s too late, you son of a bitch.” I hopped off the chair.

And he fired.

I didn’t hear a gunshot and didn’t see any blood. The pinch on my shoulder ached like a day-old bruise, and I looked to the side. A dart with a red feathered tip stuck out.

Shit! Tristan, where are you?

My knees buckled and I crashed to the floor. The disgusting grin on Martinez’s face slowly faded into black.