Lace Underground: The Complete Trilogy

by Oliver, Tess

  Clark was right. I was so fucking hard-headed, so determined to get Ten out of the place, I wasn't thinking straight. None of it went the way I expected. Ten wasn't what I expected. Until the fleeting moment when she was in my arms and she looked up at me, I was sure I'd lost her for good. But her gaze caught mine just long enough to let me know she wasn't gone but lost. She needs badly to be found.

  Small wet hands slip up my shirt and startle me out of my thoughts. "Come on, the tub's all ready."

  I do a quick sweep of the room with my eyes. Cameras. The creepy fucker has cameras everywhere. He watches everything. He knows what's going on all over his underground hell hole. I have no choice but to play along and hope that I didn't just blow this whole thing wide open.

  I follow Cathy into the bathroom and do a quick visual search. No cameras. Maybe he has one decent cell in his body that tells him not to spy on them in the bathroom. Although, I doubt that.

  Bubbles are floating in mounds on the surface of a giant bathtub. Cathy climbs in. I undress and climb in across from her. My play partner for the evening is going to be majorly disappointed. I can't think of anything except Ten.

  Cathy's foot reaches across. She rubs her toes along my thigh. "Do you like the new color?" She fluffs her hair with her hand. "Did it just for you."

  "Nice but I liked you blonde too." And then it hits me. Stupid. Fucking stupid. "I noticed a few of the women dyed their hair red."

  "Yep, when everyone heard the new hot member had a thing for red heads, we all quickly added hair color to our lists."

  "Lists? So you each get to order things from the store?"

  "Of course. How else would we get all these nice things like bubble bath? Mr. Freestone gives us an unlimited budget. He takes good care of us."

  "Does he?"

  She looks baffled at first and then smiles. "You're wondering about that girl he came in with? I thought I felt that strong arm of yours tense when you saw her." She laughs. "And I guess it wasn't just cuz of her red hair since there were at least five us in the room with I Love Lucy locks. That's Tawny. She's his. She belongs to Freestone. Poor thing. Some girls react like that to the nectar."

  Beneath the soapy surface my entire body hardens with anger thinking about Freestone injecting Ten with his illegal drugs. "What reaction?" I can't keep the hard edge out of my tone. Cathy doesn't seem to notice.

  "The loss of appetite. They just can't eat. They start to lose weight fast. Mr. Freestone usually has to let them go. Otherwise, they get too skinny. I was sure he would have sent Tawny back to the streets long ago. It is obvious the nectar is making her too thin. But everything is different with her."

  "How so?"

  She poofs her lips out. "Are we really going to spend this delicious bath time talking about her?"

  I force a charming smile. "Just curious about my new club, that's all."

  "Well, Mr. Freestone occasionally brings in a new girl. He keeps her for himself for a few days. But only a few days. Then he sends her on to join the rest of us. But not this time." She shrugs. "It seems like he's kind of obsessed with her. At least that's what Blake told us."

  "Blake? I haven't met him. Is he one of those big bodyguards standing at the door?"

  "No, Blake is an all around sweetie. Not the bodyguard type, although he was pretty protective of Tawny when he worked as her personal assistant. The rest of us don't get personal assistants. But then we don't really need one." She pulls her arms out of the bath. There's a patchwork of bubbles on her skin. "As you can see, I have everything I want."

  I glance around the bathroom. It looks similar to the master bathroom in the overpriced penthouse we rented for my billionaire character. "Nice living conditions."

  "Nice?" she giggles. "Considering I was living in the garage of a nice old lady who felt sorry for me, it's spectacular."

  "Do you have to stay?"

  She purses her lips in question. "Have to? Why would I want to leave? I've got nothing out there. In here, I have my family. I'm safe. There's even a full-time nurse on staff if I get a sore throat. It's home. This is my home." Cathy seems irritated with my interrogation. Can't blame her. "And in answer to your first question, I can leave any time I want. I'm not a prisoner. If you are here for a year, you get to leave with ten thousand dollars to restart your life. I've been here for eighteen months and I'm not going anywhere."

  The irony about this whole damn thing is that Freestone seems to have some scruples. He takes care of his people. A strange contradiction to the two brutal murders that brought him to the investigator's attention.

  Warm water moves like a frothy wave toward me as Cathy swims my direction. "Now are we going to have some fun or are we just going to chat?" She settles snugly over my lap and presses her mouth against mine.

  27

  Kane

  I move the mouse and click open the file on the new member. I've let my guard down again. Wanting to rid myself of the tedious task, I allowed some of the more senior club members to screen new applicants. They did a sloppy job. There are enough holes in Rick Haverton's story to raise a dozen red flags but he got through. In the end, it was my fault. The interviewing club members had reservations about the new guy but I brushed it off as envy and worry that a strikingly handsome new member would cause a frenzy with the women. I considered it a good way to fire up some enthusiasm. It sure as fuck did that and then some. But her reaction to him wasn't just a red flag, it was an entire forest fire.

  Jason walks into the office.

  "Is she sleeping?" I ask.

  "Yes, the medicine did its work. She'll sleep until morning." Jason stays in the doorway, looming in silence.

  I glance up in question.

  "Just want to make sure you haven't changed your mind," he says.

  "Nope."

  "Right." He walks out.

  It shouldn't surprise me. I should have known someone would come looking for her. I sure as hell would have moved mountains if I'd lost her. And it seems that moment has come for me. I knew from the start that she would be my downfall. I have only myself to blame.

  28

  Maddox

  I pull on my shirt and button it. Cathy is fast asleep in the bed. There's a knock on the door. I wondered when they'd come for me. The warning bell rang a half hour ago.

  The door beeps and opens. It's both of Freestone's big goons. They don't look exceptionally friendly as they walk into the room. Their loud, heavy footsteps wake Cathy.

  She sits up with a shriek. "Oscar! Jason! You guys are supposed to wait in the hallway."

  I look pointedly at them. They stare back at me with masks of stone.

  "Why do I sense that you're not here to take me to the car?"

  Oscar glances quickly at Cathy before motioning slightly with his head to the door, telling me to move in a quietly aggressive way.

  "Well fuck," I mutter as I walk past them.

  The second Cathy's door shuts behind them, they are on me like horny fucking grizzly bears. My face is smashed against the wall as they secure my hands behind my back.

  "I'm complaining to the fucking club owner about this," I say. "I was told the girls could tie me up if I asked—" A large fist shuts me up fast. My jaw snaps sideways and blood streams from a nasty gash on my chin. It trickles a bright pattern on my shirt. "I'll have you know I just picked this up from the dry cleaners."

  They flank me and grab hold of my arms to drag me to my next destination. I'm gearing up for a good old-fashioned, torture-filled interrogation or maybe I've misjudged Freestone from the start. Maybe he just wants to talk.

  Or maybe not. My buddies haul me into a room. They sit me down hard on a chair that is sitting in the middle of a half-filled storage room. They untie and retie my hands behind the back of the chair and secure my feet to the legs.

  "Again, not what I expected when I paid those huge club dues."

  My smart ass comment is quickly put to rest by another fist. My head snaps back, but my chin is still
numb from the first blow. There is no doubt in my mind that the guy is taking it easy on me. His fist is the size of a fucking boulder, and his arms look like tree trunks.

  It's harder to talk with my aching jaw, but I mutter out a question. "Are we waiting for the boss?"

  "I prefer Mr. Freestone." The deep voice comes from behind as the light from the corridor momentarily makes the shadowy storage room glow. The door snaps shut, dousing the light. Freestone's stride reminds me of a slow stalking panther stepping through the trees to catch his prey. He's wearing a dress shirt and slacks but decided to skip the tie and overcoat for his stockroom interrogation party.

  Without being told, the biggest of the two, the guy with the boulder sized fists, quickly pushes a large box out from the stacks along the walls. He pushes it so it's just ten feet in front of me. Freestone sits against it and crosses his arms and legs. I want to pound the arrogance off his face. I want to tear his fucking head off for what he's done to Ten. But I can't even let on that I know her.

  I don't realize I'm clenching my teeth until a pain shoots through my swollen jaw. I relax, hoping it will help me stay focused and ready for whatever they throw at me. Fists included.

  "Well, I'm bored just looking at you," Freestone sneers. "So let's cut to the meat of it. You're too cocky to work for the pharmaceutical companies, so I'm going to assume you are an undercover cop." I avoid showing a reaction. "Why are you harassing us?"

  "Not harassing anyone. Any harm in wanting to be part of the fun? Or should only rich guys get to fuck pretty women?"

  His dry laugh makes me curl my fists. "Yes, you poor pathetic man," he drawls. "I'm sure you've had it rough. Tell me why you're here and I'll think about sending you back out in the world so you can tell all the other important lawmen."

  I lean back to relieve the pressure in my arms. "Do you really have to ask? You're running a high-end whore house." It's his turn not to react.

  "I give homeless women a chance for a future."

  I nod. "That you do. Only they have to be willing to fuck grabby old rich men to work toward that future. So I wouldn't reach for that guardian angel's halo just yet. Think you might still be stopped at the pearly gates."

  Freestone stands up and paces around the room. "I'll bet there's a big folder about me sitting on your desk that contains almost nothing of importance. Kane Freestone. Biomedical degree, chemist, too insane to work for the pharmaceutical companies. The mad genius. Isn't that what they have written in that folder?" He stands in front of me and stares down.

  "There's a little something about murdering billionaires and kidnapping homeless women too. Right under the mad genius stuff."

  His cool demeanor cracks a tiny bit. His eyes flicker with anger. "I don't know a fucking thing about any murdered billionaires and the women come willingly."

  "Yeah? What about the drugs?"

  "What drugs?"

  I stare up at him. "Every woman in this place is high. They have so many needle marks, They look like human pincushions."

  "I think you'll find the injection the women are taking is not included on any illegal drug list."

  "Or any approved list either," I add.

  "We'll see. Besides, you're out of your jurisdiction."

  "The murders happened in my city. You're taking the women off the streets I keep watch over."

  "Yes, that city of yours is doing a great job taking care of its citizens," he says snidely. "Anyhow, it seems you put yourself in grave danger just to bring down a high-end escort service. Bravo. Or maybe you had something or someone else in your sights when you made this stupid decision. In fact, if you did, then I will actually have just a little more respect for you."

  There's a million ways to interpret his words but only one really stands out. I have to ignore his goading. "Don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I came here to connect the dots between you and the murders. Bringing this shady club down is just the icing on the cake."

  I catch the slight motion of his head, but his guard has me in a stranglehold before I can react. Not that I can do much except sit and take it. He squeezes my neck until I see stars in front of my eyes, then releases me. I suck in a breath.

  "You aren't going to choke it out of me," I grunt with a handful of coughs. "Because I don't know what the hell you want."

  Another flicker of motion and a fist plows into my stomach to push out the breath I just grabbed. It takes me a second to recover. The bindings bite at my wrists as I struggle to work my hands free.

  "Fucker," I say to the guard from the side of my mouth. "It's easy to nail a guy who’s strung to a fucking chair." I look back at Freestone. "Your pitbulls are wasting their energy. I've got nothing else. You already know why I'm here."

  "And the woman?"

  "Look we had a nice bubble bath and a good round of sex. She seemed perfectly happy at the end of it." I wink, knowing full well I'm just going to earn another fist. This time he hooks a rib. I hear it crack. Searing pain shoots through me. I hold my breath until it passes. "I don't know what girl you're talking about," I groan. "Cathy is the only woman I touched tonight. If you don't count that skinny red head who collapsed on my way out. You should feed your girls better. She looked pretty sickly. And if you're mad because I caught her, I'm not going to apologize for that. My mom raised me right. Didn't yours?"

  He takes a long moment to answer. "My mom didn't raise me at all."

  "Well, that explains a lot. Sorry but that red head is all yours. She's not my type."

  Freestone heads to the door. "I'm done here. You can leave him in this room until I decide what to do with him."

  "They'll be coming to get me soon," I call to him.

  "Only if they can find you." The door shuts sharply behind him.

  29

  Angie

  It feels like the walk across the room is three miles. My head is so heavy it's hard to keep it upright. The journey to the bathroom takes another burst of effort. I'm almost convinced that I'm sleepwalking until I flip on the lights and squint at the horrendous reflection in the mirror. The night comes back to me in dots, like pixels on an old computer. As the main image forms in my thickly drugged head, I stumble back and sit quickly on the upholstered bench.

  Was Maddox at the party? Was I at the party? Did I dream the whole thing? I close my eyes. "Please let it be just a bad dream," I say quietly. I nearly slip off the bench when a deep voice answers me.

  "What bad dream?" Kane is carrying a tray with a syringe. It's not filled with the usual amber liquid.

  I put up my hand. "No more. You can't just pump shit into my veins whenever the feeling grabs you. What the hell did you give me last night? That sleep was just a step above death. I don't think an elephant trumpeting through the room would have woken me. And look at me. Maybe I am actually dead. Christ, is that what you've got there? Some drug to animate dead people?"

  His laugh is definitely not laced with humor. "You are dramatic when you're full of sedative." He places the tray on the bathroom counter and sits next to me. "You're not a zombie. Although you are starting to resemble one. I've mixed up something that I think will counteract the appetite suppressant reaction you're having from the nectar."

  "How about if I just stop the nectar?" I say bravely knowing full well that I will crumble the second he pulls the syringe out of the panel.

  "Let's try this first. I've gone through all my old notes and research. I think this might work."

  "Might work? So I'm your guinea pig?"

  "No guinea pigs do not have lips like this." He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip.

  "You might want to look inside your psyche and reflect because you seem to have an affinity for walking corpses." I press my arm against my stomach. Every morning it churns with hunger, but by the time the plate of food comes, I'm nauseous at the thought of eating.

  "Let's give it a try," I say. "I'm as weak as a butterfly."

  Kane walks across to the counter and picks up the syringe. I cringe a
t the thought of being poked yet again in my already tender arms. "Couldn't you have concocted something chewable?"

  "If this works, I'll look into it. But it will work faster if it goes straight into your bloodstream."

  I close my eyes and wait for him to finish, too groggy to keep them open. "Why does my head feel so exceptionally terrible?"

  "Could have been all the crying," he says casually as he returns the syringe to the tray.

  I stare at him through bleary eyes and see for the first time that he doesn't look like his usual pulled together self. He's even sporting a five o'clock shadow as if he skipped his razor.

  "What crying?"

  He tilts his head and stares at me. It seems he is trying to gauge whether or not I'm joking with him.

  "Seriously? What was I crying about?" The second I ask it reality sinks in like a bag of sand. It wasn't a dream. It was real. All of it. Maddox. Maddox caught me in his arms. I take a deep breath to quickly brush away the reaction to my sudden epiphany. "I guess I was just feeling sick. I told you I feel as weak as a butterfly." I hold out my thin, pinpricked arms. "A really ugly wingless butterfly." It's hard as hell to keep up the charade and light airy tone, but I can't do anything to compromise Maddox's safety. What the hell is he doing jumping in on my undercover assignment? It's just like him. Tears threaten again as I let my mind wrap around the idea of him.