Eluded (18 page)

"Yes, honey," I said.

The woman smiled and led me to the
back of the store. She pulled different sets from hangers, along
with dresses that looked like they were made of spandex.

"You'll want to layer under this
dress, because under bright lights, it's basically like paper," she
said. "If you're going for sexy, I'd say the black dress with red
lingerie, or even the reverse of that." Then she unlocked the
dressing room and placed everything she had grabbed on the hooks on
the wall. "Try them on, then come out and show us."

"Thank you," I said. But I really
wanted to scream out that he was a murderer and that she shouldn't
talk to him. I wanted to beg for her to help me get away, but I
could only imagine her reaction.

I took off my clothes and slipped
on the red bra and panties. They fit perfectly and my breasts
bulged over the tops, creating the perfect amount of cleavage. The
panties didn't cover my ass, and the little strings sat low on the
hips. The black spandex-like material of the dress was soft, but
stuck to my body like paint. The bra and panties practically glowed
through the thin black material, leaving nothing for anyone's
imagination. I looked like a whore, but sucked up my pride and
walked out into the busy store for Derrick to see.

When he saw me, he bit his bottom
lip then smiled. "You're fucking beautiful," he said.

"Do you like it?" the woman asked
him.

"Do you have any red heels?" he
asked her.

She smiled. "I've got the perfect
pair. Let me find them. What size?"

"I'm an eight," I said.

When she walked away, he came to
me and grabbed my ass with a hard hand. It was painful. "You look
so fucking sexy."

Over his shoulder, I could see the
woman walking back to us with a bright red pair of heels. She
placed them on the floor and I stepped into them, adding four
inches to my height. I stood eye to eye with Derrick. He took a
step back and looked me up and down. "I want her to wear this out."
He placed a hand on my hip and pulled me to him, then placed his
tongue into my mouth. It took everything inside of me not to push
him away. The woman walked away and returned with my clothes in a
bag. She cut the tags from the dress and lingerie, without exposing
me in front of everyone in the store. Derrick kept his arm on my
hip as he paid for the new clothes, then led me outside.

"So fucking sexy," he whispered
into my ear before he placed his arm around my waist and walked me
next door to a hair salon. When we went inside, I could tell that
all the women were judging my outfit. I looked like a rented-out
whore.

"I want her makeup and hair done.
We have a photo shoot in an hour," Derrick said. His lies were
smooth and believable.

"You're a photographer?" a woman
asked.

"Yes, I am. We plan to take
several shots of the architecture in London. Jacqueline has some of
the best legs I've seen in years, and her face, it’s the face of a
model." The group of women looked me up and down, studying my body,
face, curves, and of course, my legs.

"Dark eye shadow and red lips. I
want her face to look perfect, and I'd like her hair washed, cut,
and straightened."

They went to work on me instantly.
A short, chubby brunette brought me to the back and set me in a
chair with a sink. She washed my hair and scalp with warm water,
then trimmed my dead ends, shaped my hair around my face, and
straightened it. The male makeup artist added base and powder,
blush, then worked on adding dark eyeliner and eye shadow. Last,
but certainly not least, dark lip liner, and color-stay lipstick
was traced onto my lips. The chair was moved forward for me to look
in the mirror. I couldn't help but gasp. I didn't recognize the
girl who looked at me in the mirror.

"You look beautiful, honey," the
male makeup artist said. "I'll admit you didn't quite look like you
could pull off a photo shoot, but after adding the makeup, you're
smoldering."

I laughed at him as he offered his
hand to help me stand. Derrick stood up against the wall with his
arms crossed, staring at me with a smirk on his face. I couldn't
even begin to imagine what he thought as he looked at me with cold
eyes that showed no emotion. Once he paid, we walked outside, where
he took a phone call. After more yelling, he seemed like he were in
a rush. We walked fast to the car, where he leaned over to the
driver and said one word with a sense of urgency.
Vanity.

The car sped down the road and the
driver weaved in and out of traffic. Derrick squeezed my leg as he
spoke. "Remember what I said earlier about your cousin."

"I remember." I placed my hand on
top of his, and he slightly relaxed his grip.

"Abbot is inside of this bar.
You'll go to him, and you'll have him come to me. You fuck this up,
and you and your cousin are both dead."

He handed me a cell phone with one
number programmed into it, a wad of cash, and a hotel key. "I don't
care how long this takes. Days even. When he trusts you, bring him
to room seven-oh-nine in the hotel we were at. When he is with you
and most vulnerable, call the number in the phone, and I'll be
there. This has to end."

"I understand, Derrick. It will be
done."

He slid out of the car and kept
the door open for me. Before I walked away, he grabbed me and
whispered into my ear. "If you try to run, I will kill you, Lauren.
And I'm always watching. You bring Abbot to me, and I will grant
freedom to you and your cousin. But if not . . . " Then he let
go.

If the eyes were the windows to
the soul, and his were empty, what did that mean? He let go of me,
and I walked away. Inside was a man that Derrick wanted dead, and I
had to find out why.

LAUREN

Twenty-four

D
ark wood and low lighting
created an elegant ambience. I felt a little out of place in
Vanity, dressed and made up like a whore. The high of the cocaine
was wearing off, and I felt like total shit. No one turned and
looked at me when I walked in. I stopped at the entrance and
searched around the room looking for Abbot. Almost every barstool
had a customer, and the booths that lined the wall were full as
well.

As I walked the length of the bar,
I noticed an empty chair close to the end, next to a leather jacket
and messy blond hair.

Abbot.

I sat the cell phone and room key
down on the bar and slid onto the barstool. The bartender asked me
what I wanted to drink. "I'll have what he's having," I
said.

Abbot tilted his head slightly and
looked at me from his peripheral. He wasn't as sly as he
thought.

"Whiskey on the rocks." A glass
slid across the bar to me, and I placed two little straws inside,
stirring the ice around. Abbot raised his empty glass to the
bartender, who grabbed another one, added a few cubes of ice, and
poured it half full.

The phone vibrated and I picked it
up. A text message flashed.

Don't forget what I
said.

How could I? I shook my head and
slammed the phone on the bar. If I were strong enough to crush it
into a million little pieces, I would. Abbot turned and looked at
me and I looked at him. A second passed between us, then
recognition crossed his face as he realized who I was. He tilted
his head at me as words formed on his lips, but he didn't speak.
Instead, he drank his glass dry and waved to the bartender for
another.

"What the living fuck?" Abbot
said. His voice was rasp and sexy, but it was filled with something
frightening. Anger? Confusion? Maybe a mix of the two?

"Abbot . . . "

He turned his whole body and
looked me over. The hair, makeup, dress, all of it, he didn't
overlook one inch of me. "Ghosts do haunt, but you're not one that
I expected to see again."

I turned my body away from him,
not able to look any longer, then sipped my drink. This would be
harder than I thought. He wasn't easily fooled. "I'm not a ghost,"
I said, though I felt like one that had risen from the
dead.

Abbot grabbed the drink from my
hand and slammed it on the bar. "I thought you were fucking dead.
What happened?"

Oh, how I wanted to tell him the
truth, how Derrick had forced me to have sex, and how he wants to
kill him. Abbot was my only ticket to freedom.

"I was captured, but I was set
free, and here I am."

"Bull-fucking-shit. Do you expect
me to believe that? To just willingly eat your shitty lie like
someone who doesn’t know this game? I know you were taken, and I
know who took you. But Lauren, love, Derrick Black doesn't let
anyone go so freely . . . so why the living fuck are you sitting
next to me dressed like a cheap whore?"

As much as I didn't want to give
him a reaction, I did. My eyebrows squished together and my
nostrils flared. He saw right through Derrick's game, and my heart
raced at the prospect of it all. Abbot could save me and Lindsey, I
know he could. He ordered another drink and inhaled a deep breath.
The vein in his neck pumped blood at a fast rate, and I knew I had
upset him. Maybe this would be more difficult than I
thought.

"Did you think you could waltz in
here looking like that and I would fall for whatever? I'm not a
fucking idiot. I've been around the block more than you
think."

"Why do you hate each other so
much?" I changed the subject.

"Why are you still alive?" he
asked.

"I don't know. But I'm sure I
won't be for long."

"Finally, an ounce of truth." He
sipped his drink more slowly this time, not downing it all at once.
His shoulders relaxed, but I watched as he felt the band of his
waist for something. I didn't know what else to say to him. He
didn't pay any attention to me, so I stood and walked to the
bathroom.

The long hallway was dark and
empty. Before I entered, a strong hand grabbed my wrist and slammed
me against the cool brick wall. Abbot held a knife to my neck as he
secured both wrists above my head. My breathing increased, and for
a moment, I thought it would all end, right there in the hallway of
a dark club.

"Don't you make a fucking move."
He touched up and down my body, grabbed my ass, and slid over my
breasts. Every inch was searched.

"What are you looking
for?"

"Just wanted to make sure you
weren't wired." He tucked the knife back into his waistband but
didn't move away from me. My breasts rose and fell with each deep
breath, and my heart pounded in a rhythmic beat of nervousness;
being this close to him did that to me. I had been drawn to him
since the first time I saw him.

He pulled a knife on me for crying
out loud. If I ruined this, he would fucking kill me or Derrick
would. Either way I was a dead woman walking.

He grabbed my wrist and led me
into the bathroom. White tile covered the walls and floor. After he
turned the metal trashcan upside down, Abbot opened the window.
"I'm going first. Then . . . if you know what's good for you,
you'll follow. The other side is a long drop, and take off those
heels so you don't break an ankle standing on this can."

Abbot stood on the trashcan and
slid out the window. I stood and waited for a few seconds before I
made my next move. I could follow him, or I could follow Derrick.
No matter what, Abbot needed to trust me so I could save my cousin
and myself. After a few more seconds, I took the shoes off and
stepped on top of the trashcan, then dropped them outside. I lifted
myself onto the window ledge and looked down. The drop was at least
eight feet, and Abbot was waiting for me below. On the count of
three, I let go of the ledge and fell straight into Abbot's arms. I
looked into his eyes and he stared back at me before placing me on
my feet. He bent over and handed me those stupid fucking heels. I
quickly slipped them on, then he grabbed my hand and led me down
the pebbled pavement.

We traveled for blocks before
slipping inside the entrance of a random hotel. He took my cell
phone and tucked it inside a plant by the entrance, then opened his
cell and made a call. He spouted off directions to where we were
then hung up. We continued down the street, faster than before, and
waited behind a building for several minutes before a black Range
Rover pulled up. He opened the door for me, and we climbed into the
back.

“
Why did you take my cell
phone?”

“
GPS is a powerful thing. You’re
not bugged, but I’d bet my life on it that you were being tracked
by it.”

A dark-haired younger man turned
and looked at Abbot with wide eyes.

“
Warehouse,” Abbot said.
“Now.”

He made U-turn and slammed on the
gas.

“
You do realize you’ll need to
tell me everything, don’t you?” Abbot said, leaning into my
ear.

I jerked my head in his direction
and stared, and he slowly turned to look at me. “I
can’t.”

“
You will, Lauren. You will or
I’ll kill you. At least then you can’t snitch.”

I laughed at the prospect of it
all. If it wasn’t one person trying to kill me, it was another. Was
I not safe anywhere? The bull’s-eye tattooed across my forehead
must be invisible to my eyes. "Not the first time I've heard that
one," I mumbled.