by Susan Stoker
Shivering, Allye hugged herself. What was she supposed to do? She had a job she had to get to every day. A life. But Gray was right: the man who’d originally paid for her was still out there, biding his time until he could pay someone to take her again. Was he out there watching her right now?
Swallowing hard, Allye shook her head. She’d rather die than go through that again. She’d been scared to death and hadn’t had any hope anyone was going to come for her.
She thought back to the moment in the boat after Black had picked them up, when Gray’s boss, that Rex guy, had called him.
Closing her eyes, Allye concentrated. She leaned over, with her eyes still closed, and grabbed the pad of paper she knew was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She fumbled for a pen and quickly wrote down the numbers she was seeing in her head.
Blinking, she opened her eyes and stared down at the pad of paper. She nodded. Yeah, it was the number Rex had been calling from.
Standing, Allye began to pace. She shouldn’t be considering doing what she was thinking of doing. But she had to. She knew the asshole who wanted her was still out there. Even if she was hallucinating and no one was following her at the moment. Watching her.
And there were still women who hadn’t been rescued.
With every day that passed, the flash drive she’d escaped with mocked her more and more. What if she had the information needed to save someone else? To get the entire horrific operation shut down? What if she had the power to stop assholes from abusing women and children . . . and she did nothing? What would that make her? An accomplice of some sort?
Allye hugged herself harder as she paced in agitation. She needed to give the flash drive to someone who could figure out what the password was and help take down the entire operation. Killing the captain of the boat and the man sent to escort her to her new owner was one thing, but the man who’d actually abducted her was still out there as well. There had to be many more involved, too, lots of people who helped that Nightingale guy abduct and transfer women. But not one of them had helped her, and they all had an opportunity. The kidnapper, the captain of the boat, the escort . . . Who knew how many others had knowledge of what was going on? They all needed to be taken down, and it was possible she was holding on to the one piece of evidence that would do just that.
Walking slowly into the kitchen, she opened the drawer, staring at the innocuous black flash drive with hate in her heart. Closing the drawer, she took a deep breath and went back into the other room.
Picking up her brand-new cell phone, Allye dialed the number she’d only seen once, but had managed to memorize.
“Who is this? How’d you get this number?”
The voice sounded like it was being altered somehow, but at the moment, Allye didn’t care. The man didn’t sound pleased in the least, and Allye wanted to immediately hang up, but she forced herself to say, “My name is Allye Martin. I’m looking for Rex.”
“How’d you get this number?”
“Is this Rex?” she pressed. The last thing Allye wanted to do was tell someone who wasn’t Rex what she had in her possession.
“Yeah. It’s me. Now, how’d you get this number?”
“I saw it on the screen when you called Gray last week. I was the woman he rescued from the sex-slaver’s boat.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Allye finally asked, “Are you still there?”
“I’m here. You saw my number one time, over a week ago, and remembered it?”
“Yeah. I can’t remember names or faces that well, but numbers are easy for me.”
“Hmmm. Interesting. What’s wrong?”
“Well, nothing’s wrong, per se, but I’ve got something I think you need to have.”
“What?”
“Um, well . . . when I was on the boat, the man who was escorting me to whoever bought me was sitting in the bedroom with me, after he’d handcuffed me to the bed . . .” Allye paused, remembering the awful things he’d said.
“And?” Rex asked impatiently.
Allye rolled her eyes, but went on. “He was scrolling on a laptop. Every now and then, he’d pause and murmur a woman’s name, and then he’d tell me what happened to her. It was like he was searching through something on the screen, finding the most horrifying cases just to torture me.”
“So, what . . . you’re telling me you got the laptop he was using?”
“Of course not. It’s not like I could drag a laptop through the ocean. But I did get the external drive he stuck into the computer when he came into the room.”
Rex was silent another second before he asked, “Are you shitting me?”
“No. I have it. I was going to give it to Gray, but I forgot. I figured it probably wouldn’t work anyway, but when I got home, I looked up on the internet how to dry it out and did everything people suggested. And when I plugged it in, it worked.”
“Holy mother of God. What was on it?” Rex asked, sounding even more impatient now.
“That’s the thing—I don’t know. It’s password protected, and I have no idea how to get into the spreadsheet.”
“Does anyone else know you have it?”
Allye shrugged, forgetting Rex couldn’t see her. “I have no idea. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know how they would. I haven’t told anyone. But . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“But what?”
“It’s stupid.”
“But what?” Rex asked again with more force.
“Recently I’ve felt as if I’m being followed. It’s crazy. I mean, it’s probably just because I’m paranoid after what happened. But Gray told me to be careful and to be on the lookout. Anyway . . . I just thought that maybe there was something on this thing that might lead to whoever kidnapped me, and maybe could lead to some of the other women who’ve disappeared. And if I don’t give it to someone, and I get grabbed again, those other women will never get a chance to be rescued.”
Allye heard tapping on keys in the background and waited for Rex to say something. It took a couple of beats, but finally he said, “I just bought you a ticket to Colorado Springs. You leave in about two and a half hours.”
“What? Why?”
“How else are you going to get that flash drive to me?” Rex asked.
“Well, I thought I could mail it.”
“Are you insane?” he asked, sounding appalled. “What if it got lost? You willing to risk that?”
Allye sighed. Dammit, he made a lot of sense. “Why can’t you come out here?” she asked. “I have a job. Stuff to do.”
“It’s Friday. If you decide to, you can be back by Sunday night.”
What did he mean, if she decided to come back home?
But he didn’t give her a chance to ask.
“Go pack. A carry-on only. I’ll call someone to pick you up. Don’t leave your apartment until I call back and tell you the driver is there. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t do anything but go straight to the airport and to your gate. I’d send the private plane, but it’s currently out of commission because of a flat fucking tire. You’re going to have to fly commercial to Denver, and then you’ll be taking the last flight to the Springs. Don’t miss it.”
Allye rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a baby. She knew how to fly. “Anything else?” she asked, tongue in cheek.
“Yes. I’m arranging for someone to pick you up at the Colorado Springs airport. The driver will take you to the Broadmoor. You’ll stay there for the night, then the same driver will come back Saturday afternoon after you check out and bring you to meet me. Got it?”
“The Broadmoor? Isn’t that, like, a seriously expensive hotel? Why not a Motel 6?”
“Why don’t you let me worry about price, Allye? Just don’t let anything happen to that flash drive, and get your ass to the airport. If anything seems off or weird, bail, and call me as soon as you can. I’ll get you here one way or another.”
Allye sighed. She supposed she should feel grateful Rex was worried about her, but
she knew he wasn’t exactly worried about her. He wanted the flash drive.
“Got it?” he barked.
“Yes, sir,” Allye said instinctively. “I got it.”
“Stay safe,” Rex ordered. “And I know you’re thinking it, so I have to say—you’re more important than whatever is on that drive you’re holding. I don’t like you being vulnerable out there without someone at your back, especially now that you’re feeling like you’re being watched. Keep your eyes open. Talk to you soon.”
And with that, he hung up.
A warm feeling moved up Allye’s chest as she clicked off the phone. She didn’t know this Rex guy, but if Gray trusted him, so would she.
Rex hadn’t said anything about Gray, but the thought that she was going to the same city he lived in wouldn’t leave her brain. Maybe she could ask Rex if he would call Gray and let her at least say hello.
She stood in the middle of her living room for a heartbeat, trying to imagine how a reunion with Gray would go, before shaking herself and looking at her watch. She needed to get moving. She had a plane to catch.
Gage Nightingale hung up the phone, satisfied that his special future pet was home safe and sound for the night. He absently scratched his scruffy black hair as he pushed his chair away from the desk and leaned back. Placing his hands on his protruding belly, he thought over what could have happened with the transfer of his property last week. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong. He couldn’t get ahold of the man he’d paid handsomely to escort his new acquisition, to find out how he’d screwed up.
She’d somehow escaped.
But it didn’t matter. She’d be his eventually.
Allyson Mystic. He still remembered the first time he saw her. He’d gone out one night to a new theatre, one he’d never been to before. As soon as he saw the program, he was intrigued. The photograph of her caught his attention and wouldn’t let go. He’d never become so enamored from a simple photo.
Her eyes called to him. One blue and one brown. That, along with the streak of white in her hair, made him want to come back. To see more of her.
Then he’d seen her outside the theatre. He’d recognized her immediately. She’d been with another dancer, but the other woman hadn’t interested him in the least. Only Allyson. He’d watched her that night. Saw how she’d rebuffed all other men, as if she were saving herself just for him. He was intrigued and fascinated.
By the end of the night, he’d already begun to plan how to make her his own.
He was a collector of the unusual. In the specially designed compound on his hundred-acre property outside San Francisco, he had endangered animals, dinosaur fossils, relics from the Middle East . . . and a few very special acquisitions.
He had a woman who, when he’d acquired her, had tattoos covering seventy-five percent of her body. He was working on making that one hundred percent.
He also had a little person, a pair of identical twins, and, just last month, he’d found and acquired an albino woman. Every hair on her body was the most beautiful white color.
Nightingale kept his treasures in special rooms behind a secret door so they wouldn’t be accidentally discovered by any of the many staff and visitors he had on his property. He visited them when he wanted to be amused. Oh, he made sure they knew he was their master in every way, shape and form, but sex wasn’t all he wanted from them. He found great amusement in the way they begged for food and water whenever he came around, pounding against the soundproof glass.
And of course he kept them naked, as wild animals should be.
But Mystic would be solely for personal use. She was his good-luck charm. Ever since the night he’d seen her dance, he’d had nothing but good luck. His stocks had made him more money since that night than in the entire previous year. He’d been able to purchase the pair of rare and endangered birds he’d had his eye on.
And, most important, his libido was back.
For a while, he’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to get it up again, but with one look at his Mystic’s eyes in the program, he’d gotten hard. Right there in his seat in the theatre. His cock had lengthened and had stayed hard throughout her entire performance.
Yes, Mystic would be his pet. His very special pet. She would be given the gift of his sperm, and she would pass her genetically beautiful eyes and hair on to his offspring. She’d obey his every command and would learn, in time, all his likes and dislikes. Not only that, but she’d dance for him. Only for him. He was building a special stage, one that would punish his Mystic for daring to escape from his grasp the first time, and where he could watch her perform anytime he wanted.
Yes, he’d have good luck for the rest of his life with her in a cage at his bedside.
But first he had to catch her. She was as wily as any wild animal, well worth his time and effort to capture.
The man he’d hired to keep his eye on her had reported that her schedule had resumed since she’d returned home. His pet really should learn to alter her routes to and from work a little more. But if she did, he wouldn’t have as many chances to snare her.
“Soon, my precious pet,” Nightingale murmured, rubbing his hand over his crotch. “Soon.”
Chapter Seven
Allye stood in front of the run-down building and stared at it in disbelief. This was where she was supposed to meet the elusive Rex? She turned to ask the driver if he was sure he’d gotten the address right, but all she saw were taillights turning onto the street before they disappeared altogether.
She sighed and turned back to face the building.
She’d made it to the airport with no time to spare. The flight to Denver had been uneventful and, luckily, on time, as she had twenty minutes to run to catch her plane to Colorado Springs. It had been late when she’d arrived, and the small airport was nearly deserted when she’d landed.
A man had been waiting for her with her name on a sign, and he’d whisked her to the Broadmoor hotel. It was as beautiful as she’d heard, but because she’d been exhausted, she hadn’t really had much time to appreciate it. She’d slept in and had been awakened by the phone ringing on the nightstand next to her.
It was the concierge, letting her know lunch would be brought up momentarily and that her driver would be waiting for her around three o’clock.
And now, here she was. Standing in front of a dilapidated bar called The Pit.
Sighing, Allye hitched her backpack farther up her shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. She blinked a couple of times once she was inside, trying to give her eyes time to adjust. The interior was surprisingly . . . nice. Especially compared to the exterior. A large wooden bar was to her right, taking up almost the entire wall. There were tables and chairs sprinkled around the rest of the room, with a small wooden dance floor and a jukebox off to the left side.
A large doorway atop a couple of steps sat at the back of the room, and Allye could see pool tables in a room beyond the open entrance. It was early, so there weren’t many people around, but there were a few.
She wandered over to the bar, not sure if any of the people were Rex or not, but she figured he’d come to her. She put her backpack on the floor at her feet and hopped up onto a tall bar stool.
She rested her elbows on the wooden counter in front of her and waited.
Within moments, a tall, fairly scary-looking man began to emerge from a back room behind the bar. He was wiping his hands on a dishcloth, and his gaze pierced hers as soon as he came through the door.
He was at least half a foot taller than Allye, and his dark hair was cropped close to his head. A rather scraggly beard covered most of his face, gray hair liberally sprinkled through the strands. She could see a scar snaking down his neck and disappearing into the neckline of the blue T-shirt he wore. His complexion was dark, and he had black tattoos covering both arms. Allye knew if she had encountered this man on the streets of San Francisco, she would’ve gone out of her way to avoid him.
“Hey,” he said, his voice
deep, his southern accent easy to hear even in that one word.
“Hi,” Allye replied.
“Can I get you somethin’?”
“Just a water, please.”
The bartender eyed her for a long moment, then he put down the cloth he’d been using and held out a huge hand. “Dave. I’m the bartender around here.”
Allye hesitantly reached out and placed her hand in his. “Allye. Like the space between buildings, but the y comes before the e.”
He chuckled and shook her hand, not squeezing overly hard, and dropped it after an appropriate amount of time. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You new or just passin’ through?”
“I’m supposed to meet someone here,” she told the bartender, relaxing into his polite conversation. He wasn’t putting out any scary vibes, and the slight smile on his face made her let down her guard even more.
Dave reached below the counter and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it up and asked, “Would you like me to open it for you?”
Allye’s brows drew down. “Bottled?” she asked. “Tap water is fine. I don’t have a lot of cash on me.”
“In my bar, a lady doesn’t ever get a glass of water unless she specifically requests it. It’s harder to mess with a capped bottle than an open glass. And water in my bar is always free.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Allye said. “Thank you.”
“So . . . you want me to open this for you, or do you want to do the honors?”
“You can do it.”
Dave cracked the seal on the water, placed it on top of a napkin, and slid it in front of her. “You want anything else, just yell. I’ll be around.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Allye took a sip of the water and watched as Dave turned and began to clean the top of the bar farther down from her. She spun and took in the rest of the place. There was a man and a woman sitting at a table in the back corner, and the sounds of pool balls hitting against each other came from the back room.