With the carpet this nice, she couldn’t imagine what else the penthouse suite contained.
She hurried to the door and slid the key card through the electronic reader. After the light turned green, the door lock clicked. She pulled the door handle downward and opened the door.
To the left was a polished walnut dinette table with six high-back chairs. A small basket of fresh fruit set in the center. Sylvia grabbed a polished Macintosh apple, took a big bite, and made her way to the open bedroom. The cloth wallpaper wasn’t appealing with its clashing stripes, but she could ignore it after seeing the extra wide king-size bed with a half dozen or so plush pillows layered against the headboard.
Sylvia walked softly across the thick carpet and made her way to the large bathroom. She flipped on the light switch. The clawed foot tub set in an inset surrounded by three mirrored walls. More mirrors covered the ceiling. Plush body towels were folded on two shelves, and a few feet from the deep tub was an intimidating glassed-in shower with a massively large showerhead fastened overhead. All the faucets in the sinks, tub, and shower were gold-plated.
She stepped onto the cold tile floor and headed to the tub. After turning on the hot water, she poured jasmine scented bubble bath from one of the hotel bottles. A smile crossed her lips, and she closed her eyes.
The gentle splash of the running water filling the tub was relaxing. She stood and slipped out of her stolen clothes, letting them fall to the floor. She hated the thought of ever wearing them again. Once Carter returned with the money, she’d order new clothes from a local store and have them delivered to their room. It would be nice wearing something other than the space jumpsuits.
Looking into the mirror at her nude body, she bit her lower lip. Her shape was still athletically toned, but her ribs showed more than she remembered. She needed to gain some weight. Space travel and Carter’s stressing behavior had not allowed her to keep a healthy appetite. Of course the food packets on the spaceship weren’t delicacies anyone craved. No one ate those for the taste. They simply ate to maintain enough adequate calories for survival. Nothing more.
But now that she was back on Earth, she savored eating richer foods and getting back into a gym and spa. She wanted to find her place in the world again and live a better life than she had before her prison term on Mars.
Sylvia rubbed a strand of her hair between her index finger and thumb. The texture was dry and somewhat brittle. As much as she favored bathing in the deep tub, she wanted to get to a hair salon and trim off the frazzled ends of her hair. A spiral perm would be nice. Makeup and sweet perfume was something else she planned to buy once Carter returned. It had been a long time since she had spoiled herself with a shopping spree.
Not a shoplifting spree, she thought and giggled. Her days of being a thief were over. Buying items instead of stealing them was what she’d have rather done years before. Taking things that didn’t belong to her wasn’t worth the penalty of jail and certainly wasn’t worth the isolation and frigid cold on Mars.
When the tub was three-fourths filled, she turned off the water and slid down into the white bubble coated water. The heat of the water seeped through her. She sighed. Never had a bath been so arousing.
Sylvia gathered the bubbles around her and rested the back of her head against the tub. “Carter, you’re going to be in for a treat when you get here.”
A sly grin spread across her face while she thought of how she’d make love to him when he arrived. She wanted to give him a massage and help release his tensions. He had suffered enough loss, and she hoped that she could replace his pain with love and let him know he could heal.
Albert Bennett stood in the lobby of the Lady Luck Casino. He was dressed in khakis and wore a light sports jacket. Beneath his jacket was a Glock 9mm, neatly holstered where the gambling patrons couldn’t see it. He wore dark shades with chrome rims, which indicated to other people that he was a cocky individual and quite possibly worked as hotel casino security.
Being tall and athletically built, he caught the eye of most females as he walked past them. His charming smile sent a heated blush to a lot of the women who came to Vegas for more than the gambling, but he never approached them, even if he recognized their interested gazes.
Albert seldom came to the casinos, except during the times when Grayson held meetings with potential clients who liked to gamble. Grayson never gambled his money on the various card games or machines, but often during negotiations, he’d slide a few thousand dollars to someone he hoped to seal a deal with, telling them to enjoy the tables. Funding another’s potential to increase their wealth or their gambling addiction was a temptation that made his clients wonder how much more working for Grayson benefited them.
Even though Grayson wasn’t a gambler except in the risks he took as a businessman, the casino owners knew him and his security entourage. They knew Albert and his team members, so Grayson’s TAC team was never relieved of their weapons whenever they entered a casino. They were considered trustworthy by casino security teams, and should any inadvertent damage ever occur, the owners knew Grayson would readily compensate for more than the cost of repairs.
Albert walked past the one-arm bandit machines and stopped beside Morgan Phillips. She was tall brunette with long wavy hair. She was dressed in tight jeans with a snug white tank top, which exposed her muscular arms. Morgan never carried weapons. With her martial art skills, she was the weapon.
She noticed Albert’s approach and glanced toward him. Her eyebrows rose in question.
He simply shook his head.
Another man, Lars, joined them. He was bald, muscular, and abnormally pale for someone who lived in Vegas. He was a rugged individual and tucked his gun behind his back. His long-sleeved shirt draped over the back of his pants, concealing his weapon.
Albert tapped his earpiece. “Yes?”
“Sylvia’s in the penthouse suite,” Grayson said. “Move in. Take her. If she resists, you know what to do.”
“She’s alone?” Albert asked.
“Yes.”
“What about the others?”
Grayson was silent, but Donavan could be heard in the background. “Mr. Grayson, please reconsider. Give this a few more minutes. Magnus and their partner must be nearby.”
“It doesn’t matter, Donavan. Once we have her, the other two might be persuaded to turn themselves in,”
“With them on the run,” Donavan said, “they aren’t likely to come to one another’s aid.”
Albert glanced at Morgan and Lars, rolling his eyes. “Apprehend or stand down?”
“Apprehend her,” Grayson said firmly. To Donavan, Grayson said, “Any way you can unlock her door so they don’t have to burst through?”
“Uh, yeah, give me a few minutes,” Donavan replied.
“Albert,” Grayson said.
“Yes?”
“Get your team into position. By the time your elevator reaches the penthouse floor, maybe he’ll have hacked her lock. Hold position until I give the okay.”
“Roger that,” Albert said. He motioned the other two to follow him.
They crossed through the center of the gambling tables until they reached the hall with the elevators. Morgan pushed the UP button and they stood in silence while they watched the floor numbers descend. When the doors opened with a loud chime, they stepped inside.
After the doors closed, Morgan asked, “How many are there?”
“Only the female,” Albert replied.
“And the others?” Lars asked.
Albert shrugged. “I heard Donavan in the background. He seems to believe they are nearby.”
Morgan sighed. “So are we waiting for them, too?”
Albert shook his head. “No. Grayson wants Sylvia taken into custody. From what he was telling Donavan, I believe they are hoping to get the other two to turn themselves in.”
Lars grinned. “She must be something if two escapees would simply turn themselves in over a girl instead of running.”
“Not all the time,” Lars said.
“I’ve never seen a woman on your arm,” she replied.
“I don’t allow myself to get attached.”
“Perhaps it’s the other way around. They don’t want you attached to them.”
Lars laughed. “No. I get what I need and move on to the next one.”
“Is that so?” She asked, crossing her arms.
“Quiet,” Albert said with a frown. “Focus on the job at hand. We apprehend her and take her to Grayson. We don’t know if the other two will show up as we exit. So, stop the useless prattle. Keep your eyes open.”
“They have weapons?” she asked.
“I’ve not been told that they’ve gotten guns or knives, but always expect that they do. Never underestimate a convict. You both know that.”
Lars nodded.
The elevator stopped on the penthouse floor. The doors opened, and they stepped out quietly, gazing down the empty hall.
Albert tapped his earpiece. “We’re here. Getting into position.”
Albert placed his back against the wall, pulled his 9mm, and slid his back along the wall as they neared Sylvia’s room.
“Okay,” Grayson said. “He’s unlocked the door.”
Albert placed his left hand on the door handle and pushed downward. The lock clicked softly. He eased the door inward and listened.
Morgan glanced at him. “You sure she’s in here?”
He nodded. He motioned her to go to the right as he went left.
Lars walked through the living room and toward the bathroom. Water splashed softly. He smiled and licked his lips, quietly approaching the half-opened door. His heartbeat increased, and he swallowed hard. He approached the door with nervous excitement; not because he feared her, but she was nude. He waited until Albert and Morgan slipped into different rooms before he placed his hand against the door and gently pushed the door wider.
Soap bubbles covered the surface of the bathwater, up to her chin. Her eyes were closed as she rested her head on the edge of the tub. Earbuds were tucked into her ears. The music was slightly audible, so he anticipated that she’d never hear his approach until after he pulled her from the tub.
He took a deep breath, slid off his shoes, and eased the door closed.
70
Soft piano music flowed through Sylvia’s earbuds like gentle raindrops on a summer afternoon. The meditation music combined with the heat of the bath water seeping into her, made her drowsy. Drifting on the edge of sleep, her head tilted from side to side. For the first time in a long time, she felt totally at ease, no worries, and for once, her future seemed brighter than ever.
The entire time she had been confined inside her small cell on Mars, she missed sinking into a deep tub of water. The showers were better than nothing, but it was impossible to relax while standing up.
Her head bobbed slightly forward. Bubbles clung to her chin. She opened her eyes and noticed the man’s reflection in the wall mirror. Before she could scream, he dunked her under the water.
Sylvia thrashed her arms and held her breath.
The man released her for a moment. When she pushed herself out of the water, he slid his hands around her, yanking her toward him. Water sloshed onto the tile floor. His rough hands firmly cupped her breasts as he grabbed her. She tried to pry his hands off her, but she couldn’t budge him.
Adrenaline pumped through her. Rather than scream, Sylvia placed her feet onto the side of the tub and pushed off hard. Her unexpected thrust knocked the man off balance. He loosened his grip, trying to find footing, but the soapy water dripping off her body made the tile floor more slippery. His wet socks held no traction, and he fought to correct his balance.
She swung a swift elbow into his ribs, drawing a sharp groan from him. He released her to clutch his pain. She turned to see the anger stirring in his eyes, but then his eyes swept over her nude form. A smile curled on his lips.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, trying to cover herself with her hands.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” he replied. “I’d love to be your friend because you sure don’t want me to be your enemy.”
Sylvia turned, grabbed a towel, and covered her front.
“Ah, baby, don’t do that. I was liking the view.” His crackling voice was rough and annoyingly nasal when he spoke, grating on her nerves.
“Who are you?” Her face flushed red.
Lars lowered his hands and took a step toward her. “I was sent to take you into custody.”
“By whom?”
“Grayson. Who else? But, for a few little favors, I think I can let you escape. He wouldn’t need to know.” His hands rested on his belt, near the buckle.
Sylvia frowned. “No, thanks.”
“That’s the way you want it?”
She nodded.
Lars grinned. “I like it rough, too.”
He took another step toward her. She backed against the wall, and he came even closer. He had her cornered. His smile didn’t lessen and the lust in his eyes increased.
“Please, don’t,” she said, tightening her grip on the long plush towel.
When Lars was within arms length, he reached and grabbed the towel. He yanked with such force that her fingers ached. His eyes roamed up and down her body again.
The door opened.
Sylvia looked past Lars and noticed the woman enter. “Help?”
“Lars!” Morgan said. Her hands formed into tight fists.
Lars glanced over his shoulder, and Sylvia planted a swift knee to his groin. He clutched himself, and she raked her nails down the side of his face. Angered, he reached for her, but she moved to his side, inches from his reach. This time he slipped, and fell to his knees. Blood filled the sharp grooves she had carved down his cheek. He rushed toward her, grabbed her arm, but she tugged free. He lost his balance and slipped forward. She rammed a fist into his nose. Bones cracked. He groaned and blood flowed over his lips.
“Stand down, girl,” Morgan said.
Sylvia stared at her for a moment and noticed the woman didn’t have a visible weapon. The woman looked stronger than she and was intimidating. But the last thing Sylvia needed was to be taken into Grayson’s custody. She didn’t know if Carter and Magnus had been caught yet, but if they hadn’t, she needed to escape and warn them not to come to the hotel.
Lars wiped blood from his nose. He looked at Morgan. “Step outside and close the door. When I’m done with her, this bitch a little less hostile.”
Morgan shook her head. “Based on her breaking your nose in front of me, I’m afraid she’d kill you if I left you alone with her.”
“Five minutes, Morgan,” he replied, “and I can prove otherwise. Twenty minutes is preferable, but that’s me being greedy.”
“Not happening, Lars.” Morgan said. She tossed another towel to Sylvia. “Sylvia, come quietly with me and we’ll get your clothes. Lars won’t touch you. I promise.”
“You don’t know what Grayson will do to me,” Sylvia said. “I can’t let you take me to him.”
“I gave you a great offer so you wouldn’t have to,” Lars said.
Sylvia ignored him and wrapped the towel around herself. “Grayson might have me killed.”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know what Grayson will do, and frankly, I don’t care. We were hired to bring you in. That’s all I’m interested in . . . getting the money.”
“Please?”
Morgan shook her head. Her eyes were defiant, almost daring Sylvia to give her a reason to physically restrain her. The muscled woman stood partway inside the bathroom door. The door was open far enough, Sylvia reasoned, that if she rushed Morgan, she might shove Morgan through the door and be able to make a run for the outside hallway. If she could get to the elevator or the stairs, she might escape being taken into custody.
Lars wiped away more blood with the back of
his hand and water splashed as he stood and stepped into a puddle, advancing toward her. He was now behind her.
She looked at Morgan. She’d rather make the bold attempt to forcefully thrust her way past Morgan than for Lars to place his grubby hands on her again. In strength Sylvia was at a disadvantage and outnumbered. What she needed was some kind of distraction, but nothing useful came to mind.
Sylvia turned slightly, so that she could keep an eye on Lars and Morgan at the same time. Lars took another step. Sylvia pointed a stern finger at him. “Back the hell away.”
“Lars,” Morgan said in a cold threatening tone.
While Morgan’s eyes and finger were trained on Lars, Sylvia bolted for the door. Morgan lowered herself with her legs spread shoulder length apart and her hands out to the side in a wrestling pose. Sylvia lowered her shoulder and head and struck Morgan full force.
Both Sylvia and Morgan tumbled into the hallway. Morgan’s eyes narrowed with rage, she bore her teeth, and with a viselike grip, she clamped a hand around Sylvia’s left wrist. Sylvia rolled and noticed Lars hurrying toward the hallway. Being sprawled out while fighting to pry herself free of Morgan’s hold, Sylvia realized she was fully exposing her nudeness to Lars, giving him a show that she never intended. In desperation, she tugged her left arm and pivoted, but Sylvia couldn’t break Morgan’s grip.
“Hold her,” Lars said, steadying himself inside the doorframe. He simply stood there and watched, not offering to help assist Morgan at all.
“Pervert,” Sylvia thought.
Sylvia rolled, pulling Morgan over her, but Morgan didn’t release her. Sylvia slugged the woman in the face twice; still Morgan didn’t let go. Instead, Morgan gripped both hands around Sylvia’s left wrist, pulled Sylvia to her feet, and swung Sylvia all the way around, crashing her into the wall. She pressed her weight against Sylvia and pinned.
“You’ve got spunk,” Morgan whispered in Sylvia’s ear. “But you’re not a match for me. If Grayson hadn’t insisted that we not hurt you, you wouldn’t be walking out. We’d be carrying you.”
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