Love You Madly

by Ashlee Mallory

  She took large gulps of air to try and clear her mind. The leather couch was underneath her again, and she cringed away from the light of the lamp.

  “And finally, we have the last item for the auction,” that hated voice continued, as if they were selling paintings at Sotheby’s, not human girls. “Item number nine. Many of you may have probably already caught a glimpse of the merchandise from recent media footage, so you know that there’s some interest that, as a matter of common disclosure, will necessitate extra precautions. An eighteen-year-old certified pure. English as a first with some French.”

  Meredith’s eyes zeroed back on the screen, her body tense as fear again took hold. The young girl tried to keep her balance, tottering around on heels that she had never worn before, her footing unsure.

  A girl who usually wore baggy T-shirts over her one-piece swimsuit, still unaware just how stunning she’d become, now unaware of her lack of modesty or the number of eyes watching her with a calculated and salacious edge.

  Meredith’s tongue felt thick in her mouth as she tried to speak. “You lied. You never took her from the lineup.”

  “Of course not. Like I told you, I never back down on a promise to my clients. Which is precisely why Nick knew something was up when I called him. This is a business, and you don’t jerk the customers around.” He nodded to the other man, who she presumed was Nick, who went to the desk and returned with something in his hand.

  He handed Peter a syringe.

  Fear hit her, and despite her grogginess, she struggled again, but Nick was already bracing her, holding her still. Peter grabbed her arm, and she tried to kick him, but the man swung his own leg out and countered it. Dizzy and light-headed, her head fell back as something tight wrapped around her arm.

  She tried to blink and focus. Peter. Prodding her arm. The prick of pain startled her, just before a dark cloud pushed through her consciousness. The last thing she heard before the darkness swept over her was the announcement that item number nine had sold.

  For a measly three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.

  …

  Travis raced down the narrow corridor, his gun drawn, until he reached another locked door. This one with a security system attached. He kicked his leg out, but it held firm.

  “Items three, five, and six are to be delivered to the last truck,” a man’s voice said through the earpiece. “Take nine to the landing pad. We’ll be there in a minute with another passenger.”

  Hell, he didn’t have time for this or for being inconspicuous. Stepping back, he aimed and shot at the lock before kicking the door open.

  He expected some resistance—men racing toward him that he’d have to be ready for. But there was no one. Smelling fresh cigar smoke, he slipped through the suite to the final room, where it was strongest.

  Empty. Only the empty glass and smoldering ashtray told him that someone had been there. Very recently. Then he saw it. The glistening blade of the knife he’d attached to Meredith’s thigh earlier tonight. On the couch.

  She’d been here. Had drawn that to defend herself. Against what?

  “Travis?” Meems’s voice said from his left ear, having been quiet up until now so as not to interfere with the chatter from the other earpiece. “They’re moving Darcy now. She’s listed as number nine.”

  The one heading to the landing pad. “You sure?”

  “Saw her myself. Drugged like all of them. Worse—Meredith ran into some trouble.” She relayed what the cameras had caught, and he stood, trying to remain calm. To not slam his fist in the wall.

  Noise above him drew his attention to the television screen. Three bright spotlights lit up the center of the room. Whatever show they’d put on was over. But people were rushing across the room. Quickly, probably spurred by the sound of his earlier gunfire.

  Then he caught sight of them. Meredith being carried by some large goon. Another man. And Peter following.

  He raced out and stopped at the door that led into the warehouse beyond. This was the only way they could have escaped. Locked, of course, but he shot again and pushed through. He could hear the sounds of the trucks starting.

  Hell and damnation. They were leaving. Where was Meredith? Darcy? And where the hell was this landing pad?

  He was in the large open space he’d seen moments ago on the screen. The bright spotlights nearly blinding him. He was close.

  “Meems? Still there? Where the hell did they go?”

  “Keep going. There’s a stairwell at the back, by the exit. But hurry. They’ve reached the roof.”

  He saw it and took the stairs, two at a time. At the landing, he threw open the door and ran out onto the roof. He heard it before he saw it.

  A helicopter.

  They were climbing in. Meredith’s unconscious figure was handed off to someone inside. Another wrapped figure was pushed inside before the goon joined them.

  Peter started climbing in next, and Travis’s chest felt like it might explode as he raced toward them. The pilot must have seen his movement and said something to Peter, who clung to the door as the helicopter began to rise before he could get inside.

  Travis leaped into the air and managed to gain purchase by holding onto the copter’s open door, as did Peter. The copter hovered, thankfully, not flying farther up as the pilot decided what to do with the men dangling on the side. The goon’s fist crashed into Travis’s head, but he needed to hold on. The man came at him again, and this time Travis used his left arm to sucker punch the guy, taking the seconds he needed to drop the tracker into the guy’s jacket pocket.

  Peter took the moment to try and squeeze in through the doorway, but Travis grabbed him and clung to his arm before falling back. Peter, without time to grab onto anything, fell with him, landing eight feet below on the ground.

  The copter hovered another moment before someone inside yelled, “Go!” and then it lifted and climbed higher into the sky.

  A fist slammed into Travis’s skull, and his head whipped back before another fist caught him in the gut. Damn. The other goon. From the corner of his eye, he saw Peter try to stand but buckle as his leg twisted to the side. Broken. It was the least of the broken bones he’d suffer after Travis got his hands on him.

  But first to incapacitate this asshole, who lunged again for him. Travis got to his feet and dodged the next fist and delivered a punch to the guy’s side. He arched his back in pain, and Travis delivered another quick hit to the sternum before kicking out, the crack of the guy’s knee sending him crumpling. He finally heard the wailing of sirens, as the sound from the helicopter was trailing away. Heading south.

  Peter’s groan caught his attention, and he looked down where the man was clutching his leg. For good measure, Travis kicked him in the same leg and relished the cry that Peter let rip.

  “Meems?” he asked, speaking loud enough into the microphone to be heard over Peter’s howling and the sound of sirens in the distance. “You’ve got to find where that copter’s heading. I tagged it with one of your bugs.”

  He couldn’t fail Meredith.

  No matter what had passed between them, he would keep his promise that she could trust him. Depend on him.

  To save not only Darcy, but her, too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Someone was crying. Through the throbbing pain in her head, the heaviness in all her limbs, the sound was unmistakable. Meredith tried to open her eyes, but it felt almost like they were superglued shut.

  Arms cradled her, she realized. Soft, slim arms held her, and there was a familiar scent.

  Darcy.

  New hope filled her heart and she fought against the fog to open her eyes. Dark brown eyes flooded with tears searched hers. Darcy’s eyes.

  Oh dear God. Her daughter. Here. Holding her.

  “Mom.”

  The tears still streaked her sweet face, and Meredith lifted her hand to touch the familiar profile. “In the flesh. Oh, Darce. I am so happy to see you.”

  She pulled her d
aughter into her arms, feeling Darcy’s heart beat against her chest. Something she’d wondered if she’d ever be able to do again.

  “I’ve been so scared. The clearest memory I have is being at a club. And drinking a Coke and then…then it was all a blur, like a dream—no, a nightmare. There were other girls. Amy, Kelly, Carly, and Tonya. Just like me. I don’t know where they went. Where I am. We are.”

  “I know, baby. I don’t know, either. Not yet. But as long as you’re with me, we’ll figure it out.”

  Although her head pounded and the light, no matter how dim, made the pounding worse, Meredith looked around, trying to process what she was seeing. They were on a king-size bed. From the standard things around them—the nightstands, the desk across the room, the generic wall art and color scheme—she was certain they were in a hotel room, albeit a very lush hotel, if the subtle wallpaper, carpet, and floor-to-ceiling windows covered with draperies were any indication. But where?

  She sat up and the room tilted for a moment, and a rush of nausea swept her. Darcy’s arm braced her and kept her from falling back.

  “The door is locked. I tried it. And I can’t find a phone anywhere. I think we’re in a hotel room. Although I haven’t been to Vegas before, from the view out that window, I’d say that’s where we are.”

  Meredith fought back more tears. Despite everything Darcy had already faced, she was still so levelheaded. Someone to be proud of. And if they ever got out of this, she’d be sure to tell her daughter that every damn day of her life.

  Darcy touched the back of Meredith’s head tentatively, and she flinched against the immediate pain. “They got you pretty good. There’s a nice-sized goose egg. Mom? What happened? How did you even get here?”

  Meredith managed a wry smile. “I was supposed to be saving you.”

  “No offense? But I think you could have planned this rescue a little better.” Darcy was smiling, though, and for a minute the two of them just stared at each other.

  “Darcy, whatever happens, I need you to know that I love you more than anything on this planet, and I would do anything to keep you safe. I’m sorry if I ever gave you any reason to doubt it before.”

  “I know that, Mom. And I love you, too.” Her daughter leaned over and kissed her cheek, and Meredith held her against her. There was so much more she wanted to say and apologize for, but it would have to wait.

  First they needed to figure out how to get out of here. Together.

  Starting with figuring out where the heck they even were. Darcy thought they were in Vegas, and but how was that possible? How long had Meredith been out?

  On the desk across the room were a lamp and a flat binder. If this was like most hotel rooms, it might have some description of the hotel. Its address.

  Meredith tried to stand, but her legs buckled and she sank back onto the bed. What had they given her?

  “What do you need?” Darcy asked.

  “Can you open one of the curtains? I want to see outside.”

  Darcy slid off the bed and gathered the fabric of her white silk gown up and off the floor as she tiptoed barefoot across the carpet. Meredith looked down and realized she was wearing nearly the same gown. Someone had undressed her and dressed her in this thing while she was unconscious. Anger and humiliation flooded her.

  Her daughter was light on her feet as she crossed the room and swept open one of the panels, not seeming at all affected by whatever drugs had been in her system during the auction. Meredith could only hope those same drugs also made it easier for Darcy forget what took place.

  The bright, gaudy lights of the Strip lit up against the night sky confirmed Darcy’s guess. Meredith nodded, and Darcy crept back to join her. She’d barely sat down when the bedroom door creaked open and someone peered in. The man, dark skinned and wiry, didn’t look familiar, and he didn’t stick around long enough for her to get a hard look at him, instead shutting the door behind him.

  They knew she and Darcy were awake and conscious. That couldn’t be good.

  Not when the two of them were alone in here and defenseless. They needed something to arm themselves with. “I’m going to check the bathroom for anything we can use as a weapon. You check all the drawers. The closets.”

  Through sheer will and stubbornness, Meredith slid off the bed, sinking her feet into the carpet. She stood, her head spinning, but she wasn’t going to give in. She took some breaths until she was steady. Once she got started, it became easier, and she made it to the bathroom.

  The counter had the usual toiletries. And other than towels, there was nothing that looked remotely useful. Not even a complimentary hair dryer. What kind of hotel didn’t at least have a hair dryer—and a cord that might have been of use?

  “I’m not seeing anything, Mom,” Darcy said in a hushed voice from the other room. Meredith made it to the doorway and looked around. Even the closet was cleaned out of everything, including the hangers.

  The mirrors? Maybe if they could break one, the shattered glass could be used as a weapon.

  But the door opened, and the man in the suit from the club the other night, the man who’d looked at her like she was a piece of meat, or an object to only be used, was standing in the doorway. Two unsmiling men stood behind him.

  “Good evening, ladies,” the man said, his voice smooth and with a distinct British accent. What had Travis said his name was? Ayman? The same man Peter had spoken to. Sold her to. “Just a brief conversation so you know what’s expected of you. First. Don’t try and scream or cause a scene. Not because anyone will hear you, but because all the men outside this door know you’re here, and to cause such a disturbance will likely only annoy them. And risk harm to yourself. Second, there’s to be no questions. No demands. You no longer possess the right to make any requests. You will do as you’re commanded or will find immediate consequences. Understand?”

  Meredith’s first instinct was to stand tall and proud and tell the man what bridge he could jump off, but she knew the futility in that, with three men or more, all likely armed, to her and Darcy. And she wouldn’t risk harm to Darcy unless she had an actual plan.

  She nodded, telling herself she was just biding her time until she could scratch the man’s eyes out.

  “Ah. Don’t think I see that flash of anger hidden behind those amber eyes. So spirited. I will enjoy coming to know you. The girl, though…a little too young. Docile, for my taste. But I will admit the prospect of both of you, together, has some allure. I’m told she’s your stepdaughter.” Meredith looked at him without responding. He smiled, but his eyes were dark and cold like a snake. “But the sheikh, my brother, isn’t fond of sharing, especially one as tempting as your stepdaughter.”

  One of the men leaned forward and spoke to their antagonist in a language Meredith wasn’t familiar with, the words fast and flowing. He nodded and waved his hand toward Darcy. “Come. The sheikh will be here in an hour, and you must be prepared.”

  When Darcy hesitated, the two men entered the room as if to force her to accompany them.

  They weren’t taking her daughter anywhere.

  Meredith lunged forward, her fingers were ready to claw out the eyes of the man who reached Darcy first, when Ayman said in a deadly calm voice, “Enough.”

  He held a gun leveled on her daughter. She froze, and in an instant, rough hands were pulling her arms painfully behind her. Holding her still as they waited for Ayman’s direction.

  “I expect your cooperation. Anything less will result in harm to this lovely daughter of yours. Try that again if you don’t believe me. Now take her.” He nodded to the other guard, who grabbed Darcy’s arm and pulled her, struggling, to the door.

  “Mom. Please, I’ll be okay. Don’t do anything to risk yourself. Please.” The plea in her daughter’s eyes helped Meredith steady herself. She was so going to kill this bastard.

  Ayman said something to the guards as they passed him with her daughter, and then they were gone, the door closing behind them.

&nb
sp; Leaving her alone with Ayman.

  He stalked toward her, slowly. “I did mean what I said. About getting to know you. I recognized you. That night, at the club. The mother who’d offered a touching plea for her daughter’s safety.”

  He reached her, and she stepped back, feeling the mattress behind her knees. He touched her hair, letting his fingers run through the strands. “Beautiful. As you were the other night. I wanted you then, and was sorely disappointed when Mr. Bauer told me you weren’t among his acquisitions. And then fate stepped in, and here you are. How better to ensure your compliance than by holding the care and safety of your daughter over your head?”

  Was that why he’d been watching her that night? He had to know she was there looking for Darcy. He’d have seen Travis, too.

  “You don’t think that you’re going to get away with this? That man who was with me, he knows who you are. It’s only a matter of time before he finds you. And you’re not going to like what he does to you.”

  She smiled, then, even though she couldn’t deny her fear and doubt that Travis would find them. He might not even know where to start, with Peter, his company, anything. Because she’d been so bent on following Peter that she hadn’t bothered to fill him in.

  It was more than just not having time, though, and she had to admit that. She’d been ashamed of her behavior and hadn’t wanted to see that look in his eyes again. It had been stupid. And now Darcy would pay the price.

  He grabbed her by the throat so quickly she had no time to try and move out of the way. His fingers squeezed as he lifted her chin higher, and she tried to suck in air, to pull his hand away. He looked almost uninterested as he watched her flail.

  Someone knocked at the door, but he didn’t release her, merely called out, and the door opened again to the wiry man she’d seen earlier. His hand had loosened enough so she could draw breath. They conversed in that strange language again, then the man left, leaving them alone once more.