by Hannah Ford
“Because I wanted to give you a chance,” he said. “To prove to me that you were taking this seriously.”
“That I was taking this seriously?” I said, anger flaring in my body. “What about you?”
“Me?” he said, his voice cool and controlled.
“Yes. You keep talking about the whole trust thing, how it’s so important in a relationship.”
“It is.”
“Then why won’t you trust me?”
“Because you have proven to be untrustworthy.”
“No.” I shook my head, not wiling to let him win this one. “You haven’t trusted me this whole time.”
He stayed silent, his jaw set in a firm line. “Be careful, Charlotte,” he said finally. “You don’t want to push me.”
“Maybe I do,” I said, on a roll now. “Why is it you won’t trust me to help with your case, Noah? Why is it that you won’t answer my questions? You’re a hotshot lawyer, you know how important this is, how serious your situation is. You know you should be cooperating with your lawyers. And yet you refuse to talk to Professor Worthington, and you refuse to talk to me.”
“Trust must be earned, Charlotte.”
“You say that,” I said, shaking my head. “But you expect me to give mine freely, without question.”
“That’s how it works,” he said, shrugging his shoulders like it was a simple fact, not to be disputed.
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m not comfortable with that.”
Noah kept his eyes on me for a long moment. Then he crossed the room slowly to the binder that was sitting in the middle of the table. He reached down and picked it up, his eyes never leaving mine.
He flipped through the pages until he got to the last one, the one we’d both signed. He pulled the page out of the book and slowly, carefully, tore it in two, the halves fluttering to the floor.
Tears burned my eyes.
I couldn’t believe he was doing this to me, couldn’t believe he could be so cold, so callous.
I turned and ran out of the room.
I could hear Noah calling after me, but I ran straight into the crowd, getting enveloped by the throng of bodies. I felt someone grabbing at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was Noah or not, but I yanked my arm away and kept going, pushing through the people, not really knowing where I was going.
The slave auction was taking place now on a raised stage in the middle of the room, and the music pulsed as a girl in a loincloth was shown off, her body glistening under the lights. A man in leather pants was slapping her ass with a whip, making her dance as the crowd jeered.
I had no idea how I was going to find my way out of here. The room was dark now, except for strobe lights that flashed and burned, leaving spots in front of my eyes.
I thought I heard someone calling my name, but when I turned around, I didn’t see Noah anywhere. I turned back around and began heading toward the door we’d come in when we first got here. But I wasn’t sure I was going in the right direction.
I was so disoriented that it took me a second to realize my phone was vibrating in my tiny black clutch. I reached in and pulled it out, hoping with everything I had that it was Noah, that he was calling so he could come and find me, so he could get me out of here, so he could take me back to his apartment where I would tell him everything.
But the caller ID said Unknown.
My heart sped up and adrenaline coursed through my body, seemingly pulsing in time with the music.
“Hello?” I shoved my finger in my other ear so I could hear better as I fought my way through the crowd toward the entrance.
“Hello, Charlotte.” It was that same distorted voice that had called me earlier. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, even though the air in the club felt hot and humid against my skin. “Where are you going so fast?”
“What?” A chill slid up my spine.
“Giving up so soon?” the anonymous called asked. He sounded amused, almost as if he were taunting me.
“How do you know what I’m doing?” I turned and scanned the crowd, trying to see if I could spot who I was talking to. But it was impossible. So many people were wearing costumes, their bodies moving and undulating under the flashing lights.
I thought I caught a flash of someone in a black leather mask on a cell phone, but then the crowd tightened around me, and the person was gone.
“Go to the front, Charlotte,” the voice said. “Ask for the Dark Room.”
“What?” I shook my head. “Who is this?”
“A friend, Charlotte. If you want to know the truth about who killed those girls, you need to ask Audi James. And you’ll find him in the Dark Room.”
I’d been weaving my way toward the front of the room, and a second later I came face to face with the tattooed bouncer who’d let Noah and I into the club.
“Go ahead,” the voice on the phone urged. “Ask him.”
I hesitated. Part of me wanted to just get the hell out of here, to go home and forget this whole night had ever happened. But the other part of me felt like that would be backing down. Why had I come here? My relationship with Noah hadn’t deepened -- in fact, it had gotten worse.
The bouncer looked me up and down as I moved closer, and I became aware that my dress was in tatters around my breasts. I tried to readjust the fabric, but it didn’t do much good.
I stood there for a long moment, my phone pressed tightly against my ear.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the bouncer asked.
“I’d like to go to the Dark Room, please,” I said.
“Good girl,” the voice on the phone said. And then the call went dead.
The bouncer raised his chin in the air, his eyes narrowing as he took me in.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I wanted to turn around and find Noah.
And so I did.
I turned around and tried to head back into the crowd.
But before I could, the bouncer’s meaty hand flew out and tightened around my arm. Another man appeared seemingly from out of nowhere and grabbed me around the waist, and then, suddenly, I was being dragged backward into the hallway.
I kicked and screamed.
But the men and everyone around me paid no attention.
Handcuffs were slapped onto my wrists, the cool metal pinching my skin. A gag was placed in my mouth, the fabric rough against my tongue.
The men picked me up and began carrying me down the maze of hallways, weaving this way and that, turning left and right until I had no idea where I was.
Finally, they opened the door to one of the rooms and dropped me onto the floor. The room was pitch black, and I felt hands pulling at me, taking the handcuffs off, removing the gag, grabbing roughly my breasts before they left. The sound of laughter permeated the room, and from somewhere far away, I thought I could hear a woman screaming. It was so dark I couldn’t see anything, not even my hand right in front of me.
“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone there?”
I started to feel my way around in the dark, and was just about to scream when the door opened.
Dim light flooded into the room, and a man stood in the hallway, illuminated by the light behind him.
He was tall, at least six foot three, and huge. He was dressed in dirty jeans and a black tank top, his muscular arms filled with a sleeve of tattoos. I recognized him immediately from the pictures I’d seen online.
Audi James.
He smiled at me, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth.
“Here to play?” he asked jovially. As he shut the door behind him, something metal glinted in his hand.
I took in a huge breath.
And then I screamed.
End of Book Seven
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