Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series

by Brooke Kinsley

  Jesus Christ. What happened to me?

  Although I'd like to think of myself as a modest guy, there were times when I could be proud of my appearance. People had even suggested I looked like a young Michael Douglas. Not now though. Now, with my bleary eyes staring back at from the glass door, I scared myself. I looked wild.

  "Oh, hi!" a voice came from the desk.

  The woman blinked behind her glasses and looked confused to see a customer. She closed her book and slid it away. I noticed she was reading Asimov, a strange choice of author for someone so plain looking. She looked more at home at a church bake sale.

  "Hi. I need a room. Actually, two rooms."

  "Sure!"

  She opened up the ledger in front of her which I noticed was almost completely blank apart from a couple names sporadically placed across the pages. She noticed me staring and gave me a weak smile.

  "We don't get a lot of visitors here," she explained. "Our customers are usually the boys brought in from the next town over for work."

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned, conscious that I probably stank of beer.

  "Are you here for work?" she asked.

  "No. I said. I'm here for my girlfriend. Once again, I pulled out Etta's photo and received the same blank look.

  "Sorry, not seen her."

  I didn't know why I even bothered to ask.

  "So it's two rooms you're wanting?"

  "Yep."

  I handed her over my credit card and she looked at it like she'd never seen one before.

  "We only take cash," she said.

  "Oh, right. Sure."

  As she took the dollar bills and slid them into the till, her eyes focused on something behind me. Chrissie was stumbling out the car, staggering over with her heels crunching in the gravel. Her eyes were bleary and wild, her hair even wilder.

  "Rooms three and four," said the women as she handed me the keys. "They're adjoined by a shared bathroom. Hope you don't mind."

  I took the keys and rushed out to stop Chrissie from entering the reception. The thought of her slurring her words and falling over made me cringe. She needed sleep. The sweat across her face and the way she shuddered also told me she needed heroin. I didn't know how useful she was going to be without it but I didn't exactly want to find it for her either.

  This is a fucking catastrophe, I thought. This is a nightmare.

  Unlocking the door to number four, I carried her inside and placed her down on the bed. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she breathed heavily.

  "Go to sleep," I said. "And give me your phone."

  I didn't need her. All I needed was Craig's number. I could find him on my own.

  "No!" she screamed and clutched her phone.

  For someone who was almost paralytic from booze and weakened from withdrawals, she was surprisingly strong and angry.

  "Chrissie, I don't wanna fight with you. Please, give me your cell and catch up on some sleep."

  She screamed louder and clutched her phone to her chest.

  Terrified I would attract more attention in this tiny town, I stepped back and let her lie back on the bed, her limbs spreading themselves out like a junk riddled Jesus.

  "Fine. Whatever. Just.... go to sleep."

  She sniffed and rolled over onto her side. A moment later, she was fast asleep.

  "Oh my God," I said to myself as I entered into my own room. "What the fuck is happening?"

  Now alone, I welcomed the darkness and blandness of the room. It was dull with blank walls and white sheets. Exactly what I needed.

  As I entered the bathroom, I saw the door on the other side which opened into Chrissie's room. Pressing my ear up to it, I could hear the faint sound of her padding around the room now awake and searching for something. I didn't know what I'd got myself into. She was trouble and as soon as she was asleep again I'd sneak in there and take her phone.

  In the meantime, I turned the shower onto the coldest setting and stepped beneath the frigid water. It sobered me instantly and I welcomed the feeling of being cold, of shivering and feeling my body wake up. I needed to be alert, needed to think sharp.

  But as much as I wanted to be strong, I couldn't stop myself weeping. I needed Etta so bad and my gut was telling me something terrible was happening to her. What was Craig doing with her? Why would he take her away from me if it wasn't to hurt her?

  My sadness turned to rage. The cold water motivated me, made me angrier. I slammed it off and stood dripping wet.

  Then the door clicked open.

  "Oooh... I thought I heard you in here."

  "Get out, Chrissie!"

  I reached for the towel but she was closer and yanked it off the rail before I could take it. She giggled and danced around the room as I chased after her. All the while her eyes were between my legs, her tongue sliding across her crimson lips.

  "Don't play games," I said.

  She pouted and ran out the other door into my bedroom.

  "Fuck."

  I gave up and sauntered through, choosing to dry myself with my shirt rather than chase her. Dressing myself quickly, I wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

  "What's the matter, honey?" she asked, sauntering over to me with her ass swaying from side to side.

  I ignored her and tried to stand up but she pushed me back down on the bed, her sharp nails digging into my shoulders.

  "I'm leaving," I said. "I'm going to find Etta."

  Her eyes were darting around again. Her mind was everywhere but on the task at hand.

  "Stay here with me," she said.

  "Are you crazy? We're here to find Etta!"

  She smiled as she wiggled her way around the bed.

  "We could stay here and have some fun," she said. "I could show you a good time."

  It was pointless trying to talk to her.

  I got up instead and walked away.

  "Please, Chrissie. Stop. Just tell me about Craig."

  Her eyes were glossed over. She leaned against the wall and stuck her breasts out at me, playing with her lower lip with her pinky finger pushed into her mouth. I wanted to tell her she was embarrassing herself but I didn't want to insult her, if only because I didn't know what she was capable of when she was angry.

  "You wanna lapdance?" she purred.

  I couldn't think of anything I'd ever wanted less.

  "You're out of your mind," I said. "I want Etta. I want to find Etta!"

  Her eyes stared right through me as though she wasn't listening to a word I said. Swaying her hips from side to side, she started writhing as she performed a nasty, sleazy dance. I didn't want to see it. Didn't want to be anywhere near her. In the moment, I wanted to strangle her and kill her like she was just another Roberta. But I knew I couldn't. She was the only link to Craig.

  "Chrissie stop it."

  She continued to sway.

  I'd had enough. Marching up to her, I pushed her against the wall.

  "Tell me where he is!"

  She didn't even flinch, didn't even look surprised.

  "That's it, baby. I knew you'd like it rough."

  She sickened me. Then, when I thought she couldn't stoop any lower, I felt something brush up against my cock and I looked down to see her hand massaging me.

  "Get the fuck off me," I shoved her hand away.

  I didn't have time for her games and I was losing my patience fast. Holding her in place against the wall, I thrust my hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Her eyes widened in panic and she tried to scramble for it, her long sharp nail catching my arm.

  "Hey! Give it back."

  Ignoring her, I stepped away and slid it open. Scanning through her messages, I saw there hadn't been any from Craig since he'd disappeared never mind anything that would suggest where he was. Something was gnawing at my gut. Something that made me doubt everything.

  Moving onto the call log, I saw the number of times she'd called him. I also saw something else. The call she'd made to him earlier wasn’t eve
n there. She didn't talk to him at all.

  My hand began to shake and grow damp with sweat around the phone. I imagined it was her neck, brittle and worthless. I hurled the phone to the ground and it smashed into pieces. She wailed and fell to her knees as though she'd witnessed the death of a dear loved one.

  "Why would you do that?" she wailed.

  "You're a fucking psychopath!" I shouted. "Craig's not here, is he?"

  She picked up the pieces of her screen that were littering the floor.

  "Is he!" I repeated.

  At last, she looked up. There were tears in her eyes.

  "I'm not going to ask you again," I said and bent down, grabbing her face in between my hands.

  I wanted to squeeze the life out of her.

  She stared up at me like a naughty child.

  "No," she whimpered. "He's not here."

  My breath escaped me. It felt like my chest was being tightened round and round like a coiled spring.

  "What the fuck are we even doing here! What are you playing at?"

  She sobbed into her hands.

  "I... don't know."

  "Crazy bitch," I shook my head and walked away from her. "Do you know how much time we've lost? What if he's killed her! Did you even think about that? Did you!"

  My life was falling apart and here I was, stuck in a bland motel room in the middle of nowhere with a maniac.

  I grabbed my keys and moved for the door. Like a limpet, she clung to my leg and cried.

  "Wait! Don't go."

  I tried to kick her off me but she wasn't moving.

  "Get off!"

  At last, she fell away back onto the floor, shaking and shivering as the sweat fell thick across her waxen face. But I didn't have time to care about her. I'd wasted precious hours out here when I should have been finding Etta.

  Heading out to my car, I left her there. Hopefully when I returned she'd be asleep or gone.

  ~

  It took almost twenty minutes to get a hold of Lee and when I did, he sounded groggy. Looking at the clock, I saw it was two in the morning. Looking up at the sky, I marveled at how dark it was. It was cold too with a thin layer of frost sparkling across the windshield.

  "Hey, boss," yawned Lee.

  "Hey, have you found anything yet?"

  "Nada," he replied. "This Craig guy is pretty much a ghost."

  "How can that be? He's just... a guy. You're talking as if he's Jason Bourne or something."

  He sighed and yawned again. I imagined him in bed rubbing his eyes in his pajamas like a kid.

  "I'm really sorry. Nothing's come up."

  We both fell silent. Never in my whole life had I felt so helpless, so useless and impotent. The feeling of having no power, it chewed me up. I'd do anything to find Etta but, exhausted and terrified, my mind was either working on overdrive or not working at all.

  "Boss... Can I suggest something?"

  "Fire away."

  "Have you ever considered hiring..." he cleared his throat. "Hiring a syndicate. People who are trained in this sort of thing."

  "What are you talking about, Lee?"

  "Have you thought about hiring the White Vultures?"

  I had thought about it. More than once.

  "Out of the question," I said.

  Those meatheads would probably barge in there and kill Etta along with Craig. I wanted to save her myself, wanted to be there the moment she was found. And I wanted Craig to die by my hands.

  "Just think about it," said Lee. "They're the best at what they do. I heard they did a terrific job tracking down Joseph's wife when she went missing."

  I'd heard all about that and they did not do a terrific job. Henry Joseph, publishing heir and millionaire had brought in the White Vultures when his wife, who was thirty years his junior, vanished. It was suspected that she was taken hostage but she was really shacked up with her lover in Nicaragua. The vultures brought her back whether she liked it or not and her lover was left for dead under Joseph's orders. I wanted no part in any of that mess.

  "I'll think about it," I said and hung up.

  As the tears threatened to burn my eyes once again, I pulled out the tulip necklace and held it tight. I’d see that it was back around Etta’s neck no matter what.

  “I love you so much,” I said as I watched the tiny diamond sparkle in the moonlight. “Hang in there. I’ll find you.”

  Chapter Seven

  CHRISSIE

  "Yeah, well fuck you!" I shouted to the door as it slammed in my face. "I don't need you!"

  I lay my head down on the lemon scented carpet and cried. The withdrawals were getting too much. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. All I knew was that Bosworth bastard thought he was too good for me and I needed some dope before my veins started to burn like they were filled with rocket fuel.

  I looked down at my bandaged arm and relived the few moments of kindness he'd shown me. It was the nicest feeling just to have someone take note of your pain and know you needed help. There was such kindness in his eyes as he cleaned my open wound and looked into my eyes like the attentive, handsome doctor we all wished we could have.

  But the kindness in his eyes had vanished the second he realized I was lying to him. For a second, I was certain he would kill me. He was burning with anger and I couldn't blame him. I'd led him out here because... because why? I wanted an excuse to get close to him? I had some sick idea in my head that I thought there was the slightest chance he would be interested in me and shower me with gifts and money and the life I always wanted?

  As I crawled up to the window and watched him through the blinds, I realized that I had no idea why I'd done any of it. I was just a train wreck of a human. I chased after destruction and it rewarded me handsomely.

  I shivered and pulled the blinds shut before curling up on the floor. What the hell am I doing here? I'll die out here? My body shook so hard my skull battered off the wall behind me. My vision became blurred at the sides. I couldn't focus on anything but the pain and sickness that was travelling through my body.

  Then something caught my attention across the room. It looked like a pile of rags but something about it was telling me I needed to investigate.

  Scuffling over on my hands and knees, I saw how its fabric shone silken in the faint light. A jacket. Bosworth's jacket. In his haste, he'd left it behind.

  With newfound strength, I hurried over and thrust a hand into one of the pockets. There was nothing in it. I tried the other and again it was empty. Then something hard brushed up against me. Deep within the inside breast pocket lay something solid. I pulled it out and my hand shook even more violently.

  Hundred dollar bills. There must have been dozens of them tethered together by a gold clip that must have been worth just as much as the money I was holding.

  "I'm dreaming. I'm fucking dreaming."

  I ripped off the clip and spread the money out across the bed, counting it over and over until I couldn't be any surer. Ten thousand dollars lay in front of me. That was sure as hell a good time. He'd also notice that sooner or later that it was missing and come back here looking for it.

  I knew a good thing when I saw it and knew I'd never get an opportunity like this again. Bundling it all back up, I squashed the wad up inside my bra and looked back out the window just in time to see Bosworth's car speed out the parking lot spitting up gravel.

  Walking out to the street, I looked down toward the bar and saw him race past it until he was long gone from this town.

  Maidenville, I thought. Why did I even pick this place? Back at the apartment, I was so desperate to think of somewhere that I'd picked a name at random, one that I was sure I'd seen on a map somewhere but couldn't place when or where.

  Now, for tonight only, it was my town and I had enough money to get me anything I wanted, provided this place could provide it. As I walked down toward the bar, I pulled my pocket mirror out from my purse and looked at my reflection.

  "You're a crazy bitch, Chrissie," I said
as I blew myself a kiss. "At least you still got your looks."

  ~

  The bar was packed out with boys that looked as though they were big and burly enough to fuck me like a jackhammer. I made a beeline for the jukebox and looked over my shoulder to make sure they were all watching.

  "Urgh, not a single song on this thing is from this century."

  I put on some Elvis and began to dance. Everyone loves Elvis.

  All their eyes were on me and it wasn't long until a boy with dark curly hair and blue eyes strode up, his thick arms looking as though they were ripe to burst his shirt open. As he neared, I saw he looked concerned.

  "Hey. You wanna take a seat young lady? Get a drink of water or something?"

  He gestured for me to take a seat in the booth beside us but I shook my head and laughed.

  "Hey, come dance!"

  He pushed me away.

  "Come on. You're not safe here on your own," he said, noticing the bandage around my arm.

  I liked the sound of that. I loved trouble as much as it loved me.

  Bending down to show him my cleavage, I licked my lips and pulled back my top to reveal my stiff, pink nipples. He blushed and turned away.

  "Don't do that," he said.

  "Don't do what? This?"

  I pulled a hundred dollar bill out and waved it in his face. He gasped as his eyes followed it back and forth.

  "Drinks are on me," I said.

  He glanced over at his friends, then back at me, then back at his friends before giving them a thumbs up. They all laughed and cheered but I didn't know what the joke was.

  Handing over the money to the barman, he eyed me suspiciously.

  "Vodka, right?"

  "Yup!"

  He nodded and set about finding a new bottle.

  "And may I ask where your gentleman friend is?"

  He slid the bottle over to me and twirled a length of his beard around his finger.

  "I don't care where that jerk is," I sneered. "I just wanna have fun."

  His eyes moved their way down my body. I could tell he liked what he saw but was too scared to do a thing about it.