by C. J. Thomas
15
Kendra
My vision faded as I fell in and out of consciousness.
The blood that flowed freely earlier had since dried.
And the pain had subsided as I hung there, having given up.
When I moved, I winced. Madam was going to do everything she could to break me. I couldn’t let her win. I’d die if it meant saving Kelly, but I knew I couldn’t go on much longer without losing the will to survive.
The door handle clicked over and I flinched.
My heart sped as fear of the unknown caused my insides to tremble. Breathing harder, I prepared to take another beating, mentally envisioning what I was going to say and how I could pretend I wasn’t in as much pain as I actually was.
Soft soled shoes squeaked across the floor, the sounds growing ever closer.
My brow furrowed when I caught the new scent.
Perking my ears, I listened.
The breathing changed. The energy was hidden and unlike anything that had visited me before. And when I heard his voice I lifted my head, trembling in fear.
“I’m here to help,” Drake Goodman’s soft voice said.
My heart hammered at his words. Madam’s reach went deeper than I’d originally thought.
“If you want to get out of here, you need to do what Madam says. You need to get from Kelly what she’s after.” His words shot off his tongue in rapid fire as if he knew his time was limited.
“Who are you?” I asked, not knowing where he stood in the room. “And how did you know where to find me?”
The chain snapped and shook above my head. “Just do it, Kendra.” He sighed. “Your life depends on your obedience. I don’t have time to explain.” His whispery breath fluttered against my face. “She will break you down until you either agree to do what she says, or your heart stops. Do you understand? Don’t be a martyr. Not now when there are others who still need you.”
Thinking of Kelly, my voice broke. “I can’t.”
“Kelly can save himself,” Drake said as if reading my thoughts. “There have already been too many deaths, and I would hate to see you be the next.”
“Why didn’t you help?” I whimpered. “You said you could help.”
There was a loud thumping coming through the walls. Drake hurried to the door. “Just get what Madam needs. You never saw me, okay?” At least I wouldn’t have to lie about that. Then I heard him leave.
Calling after him, my responses were met only with echoes of my own cries. Pellets of sweat formed on my brow as my body heat spiked in confusion to how Drake knew so much. I knew him only to be affiliated with Giselle but, at this point, that was enough to have no choice but to trust him.
Trying to stand under my own power, I feared what crime Madam was implicating me in this time. I couldn’t believe what she said. This was to her own benefit—the same as always.
A shot rang out.
My eyes flew open behind the fabric covering my eyes.
I flinched and hyperventilated.
Bright flashbacks to seeing Jerome aim and shoot at Kelly rocked through my brain. With my heart thrashing, I immediately thought the worst. Did that have something to do with Drake? And did he sneak inside Echo knowing he could save me? Did Madam discover him and shoot him? Or was he on her side and this was all staged to make me believe I had a chance at escaping this?
I freaked.
My pulse throbbed and pounded inside my head.
I yelled and screamed but no one came.
Tears swelled my eyes. “Fuck me,” I blubbered. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. Just fucking kill me.
Without warning, it felt like I had been hit by a truck when a tight fist landed a square shot straight to my gut. Curling over as best I could, I fought to catch my breath after having the wind knocked out of me. I coughed and spit when Jerome’s deep voice finally asked, “Are you ready to work yet?”
He unhooked the chain from the ceiling. My body crumpled to the floor like an accordion. Pulling the blindfold away from my eyes, Jerome hovered over me. He swung his foot back and kicked me in the ribs. I cried out in pain as I curled up in a ball.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said, bending at the waist.
“Yes,” I whispered. Though I was afraid to do as Drake said, I feared Madam would kill me regardless, considering everything I knew about her business. This could be my way out—my last chance to escape her dark underworld of crime and abuse.
But first I had to survive.
Jerome cocked his head. “What was that?”
“Yes.” I rolled onto my back.
Jerome knelt down close to my face. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ll fucking get what Madam wants.” I wrapped my arms around my body, cringing in pain.
Jerome’s white teeth shined against his dark complexion. He undid my binds and lifted me to my feet. Dragging my limp body out of the room, he took me to a shower. Sitting me on the chair, he asked, “Hot or cold?”
Hanging my head between my knees, I muttered, “Warm.”
He shook his head, then turned the nob to neutral.
“What am I looking for, anyway?” I asked.
Arriving right on cue, Madam appeared at the door.
Wearing a purple dress, her eyes smiled beneath the white-brimmed sunhat. In her hands was a freshly pressed set of clothes I knew were meant for me. “I knew you would come around.”
I cast my gaze to the floor.
She moved to me, taking my chin inside her hand. Tipping my face into the light, she said, “We’ll need to clean you up a bit, I’m afraid.”
I snapped my head away, too afraid to know how bad my body looked. Parts of me swelled, others throbbed. I had never had the shit kicked out of me as badly as I had today. And if it hadn’t been for Drake, I might have welcomed the relief death would provide.
“Jerome, honey,” Madam reached for his arm, “please go tell Madison we’ll need some assistance in here.”
Jerome left as Madam handed me a cold bottled water.
I slammed it back, finishing it in record time.
Madam pulled me to my feet and guided me under the showerhead. I was still in my underwear, but what did it matter? The cuts stung as water washed over me. Rubbing life back into my wrists, they were buffed raw from my determination to escape my imprisonment.
Turning the water cooler, I closed my eyes and drowned myself in the welcome relief it provided. I gulped down more water spilling from the showerhead to quench my seemingly endless thirst. Then, next thing I knew, a young woman was dropping supplies near my feet.
Her honeysuckle doe eyes flashed up to mine beneath a curtain of lashes. “A loofah, new bar of soap, shampoo, conditioner, and new razor. Let me know if there is anything else you need.” Then she turned to the tub and began filling it.
I reached for the shampoo first. My hair was grimy and disgusting.
Madam watched me clean my body without saying a word. By the time I was finished, Madison had made me an oil-infused bath. “It will help with the healing,” she promised me. Then Madam sent her to retrieve a plate of food so that I could fill my stomach.
I shed my underwear and bra—leaving them in the shower—before padding to the tub. Lowering myself into the water, I breathed and relaxed with feelings of exhaustion.
Madam sat on the edge, looking me directly in the eye. “Kelly has files on me that I would prefer not be known.”
“And you want me to get them back.” I kept my eyes closed. “I get it already.”
Madam stared. “If they get into the wrong hands, your secret will be exposed, too.”
My eyes fluttered open and I rolled them to her.
“Don’t think that you’re not guilty. You are. My interest is your interest.” A knowing glimmer sparkled in her gaze. “I’ve instructed Oscar to bring Kelly down by any means possible.”
I pushed myself up further on my elbows, pinching my brow together. My gut dropped with sudden worry.
<
br /> Madam nodded once. “And he’s more determined than anybody I know to make Kelly’s life a living hell.”
“Why are you doing this?
Madam held up her index finger. “But you, too, can beat him at his own game—if you get the files Kelly took from Sylvia’s apartment.”
Madison was back with a steaming hot plate of food. She set it on a tray and lowered it into the bath. The grilled chicken was perfect with the steaming potatoes and vegetables. I couldn’t wait to get some food in me.
“When you’re finished, Madison will help you into your clothes,” Madam flicked her eyes across the room, “and you will be on your way.”
I stared into my plate of food for a minute before asking, “When I find what you’re looking for, how can I reach you? And will I then be set free?”
“Ah, yes.” Madam strolled to the set of clothes and pulled something out from beneath them. “Call.” She smiled, holding up my cell phone. “Get the files first, then we’ll talk about your freedom.”
“How long do I have?”
“Do it quickly.”
“By tomorrow? The next day? A week?”
“You’ll feel the pressure, darling.” Madam walked to the door. “I’ll make sure of it.”
My head hit the back of the tub.
“Oh, and Kendra, baby.” Madam’s painted brows lifted. “I’ll be watching you every step of the way so, don’t try anything funny.”
16
Kendra
I stood outside the entrance of Echo, pretending like nothing had happened.
Shielding the glaring sun beating down overhead, I did a quick scan of the parking lot before glancing to my phone.
My cell was the only reference to how long I had been in captivity. Though it hadn’t been more than 24 hours since meeting Oscar for dinner, it felt like a week had passed.
Inside I was empty. My sense of worth gone. Hope for tomorrow vanished.
Hugging my body, I wanted to cry. This was all my fault. Everything that happened to me had been a consequence of the decisions I’d made. I let Alex down. Kelly, too. But, mostly, I let myself down.
Having no desire to be near anything affiliated with Echo, I moved to the street corner with hopes of leaving the property.
Each step was a chore. Pain raced across my body as my heels clacked over the pavement. Without warning, I was reminded of Rob Jones having photographs of Kelly and me here from the day I signed Kelly’s NDA. And when I wasn’t thinking about what the future held, I thought about the women who’d died here.
Madam was watching me. At every turn, she was there. There wasn’t a safe place to go. Yet I had no choice but to leave and believe I would be safe so long as I did what she said.
Feeling the hairs stand on the nape of my neck, I inhaled a sharp breath of air and looked around. I questioned everything as my thoughts sought an explanation as to why I was in my current predicament.
Why did Kelly need me to give up my voice when agreeing to his contract? And how was I going to act when I saw him? It wasn’t going to be the same. The hands of time could never go back to how things once were. Inside, I knew I still loved him but would he still love me?
I stopped and stared.
I was mixed up and confused.
And, worst of all, self-doubt crept back inside my brain like the phantom that would never let me go. I knew I wasn’t Kelly’s only one, but after what Oscar did to me, why would Kelly ever want to be with me again?
Smoothing my hand down my arms, I was reminded of my raw wounds. Though hidden beneath the long angelic white sleeves, the marks were there like chapters of a story.
My tongue grazed the cut in my lip. My arms hugged my bruised ribs. And my formfitting dress squeezed against the lashes to my backside as if cradling a newborn.
Closing my eyes, my chin began to tremble.
I was shattered.
Broken.
Destroyed.
Completely ruined.
What started as an escape quickly turned into a death wish.
I was Madam’s submissive.
Lifting my head, I turned my attention up the street.
There wasn’t time to rest, to heal. Oscar was after Kelly, and I would get Madam what she wanted if it meant saving Kelly’s career. I didn’t know what Madam meant by feeling the pressure, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. It made me question my future. How could I go on? Madam had me surrounded. If not her, it was my uncle. Then my parents, and Kelly, and Alex.
Alex.
My blurry eyes opened as I scrambled to dial Alex’s number. I fumbled my phone inside my hand as I hurried to learn if she was all right.
Fear kept my heart strangled by the persistent squeeze of my chest. I had nearly forgotten Madam’s threat she’d made against my bestie and I hoped I wasn’t too late.
Would she still reveal what Nash did to move Maria’s body now that I’d agreed to give her what she wanted? My hair flung over my shoulder as I looked back at the nightclub. A part of me wanted to dash back inside and hear Madam tell me herself, but the more rational part of my brain just needed to get somewhere safe.
A sedan pulled up to the front entrance.
I froze and stared.
I recognized it immediately. Even with the glare shielding the face sitting behind the wheel, I knew who it was. His dark shadowed complexion was a welcome relief.
I wanted to jump and wave, feeling calm that a friend was finally here. But when the back door opened and a young attractive woman stepped out, I suddenly remembered the drops Lucky said he sometimes made.
The balls of my feet hit the ground.
I frowned and my shoulders rounded.
Struggling to breathe through an anxiety attack, I watched his wheels begin rolling in my direction.
Turning my back, I pretended like I didn’t know him. I quickly messaged Alex: 911.
Lucky stopped the car and rolled down his window. “Kendra, my friend. What are you doing here?”
Collecting my thoughts, I turned around to face his brilliant smile. “Lucky!” I moved to his open window. “My God, if you don’t stop stalking me, I swear…”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Please, do you need a lift?”
Glancing to the nightmare I had left behind inside, it was an easy decision to jump into the back of Lucky’s car now that I’d been spotted.
Without wasting any time, he dropped the car into gear and started to drive. “Where to?”
“Home,” I breathed. He flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror. With concern in his eye, he easily named my chosen street corner. “That’s the one,” I said.
Each mile we drove further from Echo, the lighter my body felt. Closing my eyes, I leaned back in the seat not bothering to buckle. Clawing my fingers over the upholstered back seat, I listened to the Reggae music playing softly through the speakers.
Lucky must have known without asking that I needed some time to myself. He kept quiet, minding his own business. Several minutes passed before I finally opened my eyes. “Who was that woman you dropped back there?”
He readjusted his hand on the wheel.
I sat up straight. “Have you dropped her there before?”
His eyes met with mine in the mirror.
“Lucky, why can’t you say anything?”
He shook his head.
“Did someone tell you not to talk about it?”
“Something like that.”
“Is it the person paying you?” He remained quiet as I thought about how he’d run the moment Madam arrived at Tonya’s funeral. “You left me yesterday, Lucky. At the funeral, you left me.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was a soft breathy tone.
Gripping the back of his seat, I scooted forward. “Why did you run?”
Lucky slouched and brought one hand to his mouth.
“You knew that woman, didn’t you?” He pulled his hand away from his face. “Is she the one paying you?” Madam’s sneering face flas
hed in my mind.
My ringing cell interrupted us before Lucky could answer. It was Alex. I gave Lucky a second to respond before I answered but also knew I couldn’t miss my friend’s call. “Alex,” I finally answered, “Thank god, you’re okay.”
17
Kelly
I watched Oscar get flanked by his security as he left the mayor’s office.
His arrogance had my blood boiling. If what he said was true—and if he’d hurt Kendra—I wouldn’t be able to let him get away with it. My fingers curled into the palm of my hand.
“Mr. Black, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Mayor Bentley reached out to shake my hand.
I turned and slid my hand into his.
Looking into his hazel eyes, I needed him to be on my side. It was important that our past relationship was true and honest, as he made me believe it was. Lately, I was beginning to have my doubts about where my place was in the courtroom. “Can we talk in private?”
His lips pressed flat. “Yes, of course.”
I followed him inside his office. I hoped that I would be walking away with a partner I could count on to expose and squash the corruption and crime this city was exploding at the seams with. But after the surprise of finding Oscar here before me, I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
I quickly scanned Bentley’s desk as I heard the door close behind me. “Please tell me you have the evidence needed to link the DA to Mario’s death.”
Without looking me in the eye, the mayor edged his desk and lowered himself down into his plush leather chair. Threading his fingers on top, he flicked his gaze up to me and shook his head.
“But you still suspect foul play?”
The mayor visibly sighed. “Kelly, have a seat.”
I stared, with thoughts of our last conversation swimming in my mind. He had suspected foul play was involved in Mario’s apparent suicide—even mentioned his belief that Oscar might somehow be involved. Lowering into the chair opposite him, I asked, “Has your position changed?”