Enticed:A Dangerous Connection (Secrets) (20 page)

“You can thank us by getting free,” Tatiana tells me.

“And maybe you can help us get free,” Ruby says.

I grab her hand. “I’ll do everything I can.” Then it hits me. “I need to know the address of this house.”

Tatiana looks worried. “I don’t know …”

“You don’t know the address?” I question.

“No, if this house gets busted, we could end up — ”

“If Serena gets free, we’ll probably have to leave anyway,” Ruby reasons. And then she tells me the address including the name of the town. I’m just repeating it over and over in my head when Jimmy shows up, announcing it’s time for everyone to get ready for the “evening’s activities.”

He frowns at Ruby and Tatiana. “You girls need to go do something about those faces. Get Desiree to help you cover up your little bumps and bruises.” The girls and I say a quick good-bye and then, like I’m a four-year-old, Jimmy warns once again not to mess up my uniform. “Your ride will be here in twenty minutes.” Then he locks me up again.

I spend the remainder of my time pacing and praying and rehearsing the lines Tatiana and Ruby helped me with — as well as the address of this house. I’m so glad Ruby told me, and I want it fixed firmly in my memory.

And then — just like that — Jimmy and Kandy appear, and with his stun gun aimed threateningly, he waits as Kandy binds my hands together in front of me and blindfolds me. They roughly lead me through the house and we pass through what feels like the laundry room into the garage and finally into what feels like the backseat of what’s probably an expensive vehicle — I can smell leather.

“Here’s her bag.” Jimmy tosses it at my feet.

“Even if Serena doesn’t come back here, we’d like the bag back,” Kandy says. “We girls can use those things.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” a man answers from in front of me. His voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it. “Buckle her up,” he snaps. “I don’t want her pulling any stunts on the way over there.” Suddenly I remember the guy named Mitch who delivered the sweatshop workers the other day, and I’m sure he’s the one in front.

Someone buckles me into the seat and the car door slams and now the vehicle begins to move. For a while no one speaks and I am using my full concentration to keep my composure. I do some deep breathing to calm myself and then I begin to silently pray.

“She’s a pretty one,” Mitch says in a sleazy tone.

“Yeah, she sure is,” an equally sleazy voice says from the other side of the backseat. I feel a hand creeping up my thigh, and I let out a scream.

“Hey man, don’t mess with the merchandise,” Mitch warns. “You know what Mr. T says about that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah …” His hand is gone now, but my skin is still crawling.

The two men laugh like this is funny, making smutty remarks back and forth. Meanwhile I’m trying to remember anything and everything about these guys, details I might be able to share with law enforcement. More than anything I’d like to see these guys arrested and put away. Then after what seems like at least twenty minutes, the car stops and I hear the window go down.

“Don’t forget Tom said they changed the code,” the guy beside me says.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Mitch responds, and after a few seconds the window goes back up. I’m guessing this is a gated area but don’t know if it’s a private home or a neighborhood. I’m praying it’s not a private home. That would make escaping even more difficult.

We drive for a few more minutes as the man beside me talks to someone on his phone, announcing that we’re almost there. And then after the car comes to a complete stop, my blindfold is removed. “Is that better?” the man beside me asks.

I blink into the light, then quickly take in his shaved head, dark glasses, and smirking grin. He appears to be in his thirties or forties and I notice a tattoo on his left hand. Some kind of symbol. I also notice the shining blade of a knife in his other hand.

“Now if you promise to be a good little girl, I’ll cut your hands free before we go inside. Mr. T prefers it that way, but if you’re going to be difficult, we’ll just wait until you’re inside.”

“I won’t be difficult.” Not yet anyway.

“Smart girl.” He slices through the cords with one quick stroke.

I rub my wrists and wait. As far as I can see, the car is parked under some kind of entry to a house that appears to be made of stone. The fortress. And now one of the huge wooden doors opens and a tall man dressed in black steps out, looking from side to side, and then he nods toward the car.

“Scotty’s giving us the green light,” Mitch says. “Take her out.”

“Here’s the deal,” the man next to me says as he gives me a shove from behind. “Don’t try anything and no one gets hurt. Just get out of the car and we’ll walk over to Scotty nice and easy. You got that?”

“Yes.”

He reaches in front of me and opens the door, pushing me out so we both emerge from the car almost simultaneously. “Here’s your bag.” He hands it to me. “Here’s your girl,” he says to Scotty.

Scotty just nods, and taking me by the arm, he escorts me up to the big double doors, but before we go inside, I glance to my right and am reassured to see that it looks like this house is part of a neighborhood — a very swanky neighborhood. But having houses nearby gives me hope.

Scotty leads me into a dimly lit foyer. “Welcome,” he says in a deep voice.

“Thanks …” I mumble as the door closes.

“Right this way.” He leads me toward a gracefully curving staircase. “Mr. T is up there.” His grip on my arm tightens as he leads me up the stairs, almost as if he expects me to put up a fight. But I just go along with him. My plan is to play this calm and cool.

“This is a beautiful house,” I say, trying to sound natural.

“Yes, it is.” He pauses at the top of the stairs, looking directly at me. “And just so you know, it’s a very secure house. We have a top-of-the-line security system.” He points out a surveillance camera on a high wall. “Always watching.” He walks me down a hallway with several doors. “And we have a pair of Dobermans that guard the grounds. So everyone stays very safe here.” He smiles, and if I’d met him under other circumstances, I would’ve assumed he was just a nice guy. “I hope you enjoy your stay, miss.”

“Thank you.” I force a nervous smile.

“The master suite,” he says as he taps lightly on the door. My knees begin to really shake as the door is opened.

“Come in, come in,” a friendly male voice says. I feel like I’m about to faint or throw up or maybe even both. Instead I pray for deliverance.

… [CHAPTER 19]………………

S
cotty gives me a little boost into the room, and suddenly I am standing face-to-face with a man, but I’m surprised to see he is nothing like the monster I’ve imagined.

“Are you Mr. T?” I ask as the door behind me closes.

“That’s what some people call me.” He smiles as he smoothes his graying hair back. It’s damp and I’m guessing he’s just taken a shower. Now he reaches behind me, quickly punching a security code onto the security pad by the door. No keys needed here. Just numbers. I wish I’d been watching more closely. “And you are Serena Delray,” he says in a friendly way. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I bite my lip, trying to think of something to say, but everything feels so bizarre and unreal. Mr. T just looks like an ordinary man. Okay, a really wealthy ordinary man. But he’s not even big. Probably just an inch or two taller than me. Average height and weight and rather average looking. He could be somebody’s dad … or grandpa.

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Uh … well, not really,” I say in a shaky voice. “I, uh, I feel kind of faint.”

“Come over here and sit down.” He gently leads me over to a seating area by a large set of windows. “You’re probably just having a bad case of nerves. It’s to be expected.” He eases me down into a brown velvet chair and I sink into its comforting form.

I study his face as he stands over me. It’s tanned and lined, but it doesn’t look unkind or criminal or menacing. And yet he does this? He pays big money to bring in girls like me? I cannot even wrap my head around it.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He sits in the velvet chair across from me. He studies me with cool blue eyes. “You don’t understand why someone of my class and caliber pays to have girls brought to him, right?”

I nod, swallowing against the dryness in my throat. “It seems odd.”

“Yes, I’m sure it does.” He frowns.

Suddenly I remember the packet of crushed pills in my bra and I remember the lines I rehearsed earlier. I reach up and touch my throat. “I feel kind of parched. May I please have a drink?”

“Certainly.” He stands. “What would you like?”

“Just water is fine. Or soda if you have it.”

“Oh, I have everything.” He goes over to what looks like a mini bar and opens a small fridge and lists off the options.

“Cola is fine.”

I hear the sound of ice clinking into a glass and before long he joins me, not with just one glass, but two. Exactly like Tatiana had predicted. I quickly suck down my cola, as if I’m parched, which I actually am.

“Need a refill?”

Now I make an uncertain expression. “Yes … I suppose so.” I point at his glass that has something clear with a lime. “What are you drinking?”

He chuckles. “Gin and tonic.”

“Is that alcohol?”

He holds it up, takes a sip, then nods. “You bet it is.”

“I’ve never really drank alcohol. But maybe it’s time I gave it a try. I mean, if it’s okay.”

“Sure. I’ll make you one.”

Then as he returns to the bar, I discreetly slip the packet from my bra. Hopefully I’m not on camera in here. As he mixes my drink, I open the packet and slip it into the sleeve of my left hand. And just like Tatiana predicted, he returns quickly with my drink, setting it down on the table between the two chairs.

“Thank you,” I say as I reach for it and take a big sip, which tastes so nasty I don’t even have to pretend to hate it. I gasp and sputter and make a face. “Ugh. I’m sorry, but that tastes terrible. How can you stand it?”

He just laughs. “I suppose it is an acquired taste.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Not for me.” Now I get a thoughtful look. “But aren’t there drinks that are sweet and fruity? A friend of mine likes something called Long Island iced tea. Do you think that would be good?”

His brows arch slightly. “Yes. That might be just what you need to help you relax a little.” He takes my previous drink and returns to the bar, and as he’s distracted by pulling out some bottles and ingredients, I slip out the packet and quickly dump it into his drink, praying that I’m not being watched right now. To my dismay the powder is sitting on the surface of the drink, just like Ruby predicted.

“This is a really pretty house,” I say to him, keeping my eye on him as I attempt to mix the powder into his drink with my finger. “You must be a very wealthy man.” I lean back just as he looks up.

“Oh yes, you could say that.”

I stand up now, acting interested in the view from the window but really looking for my next opportunity to stir the powder down into that drink. “That’s a beautiful backyard. And a swimming pool, too. Wow.” Seeing him focused on opening a bottle, I reach over and continue stirring frantically, keeping my eyes on him the whole while.

“Come on over here,” he calls out.

Worried that he’s suspicious, I go on over.

He watches as I walk toward him. “Very pretty.” He nods with approval as he stirs a tall glass. “Tom tells me you’re from Los Angeles.”

I nod nervously. “That’s right.”

“Well, that should do it.” He hands me the drink.

I take a cautious sniff.

“Go ahead, try it.”

I put my hand to my head. “Mind if I sit back down first? I’m still feeling a little dizzy.”

“By all means.” He waves his hand toward the chairs. “Sit. I always like to get to know my dates. Makes it more personal, if you know what I mean.”

I shrug as I go back to my chair. “I guess. But to be honest, this is all completely new to me.”

He smiles as he sits down. “Yes, that is precisely how I like it, my dear.”

I hold up my drink. “Well, what do you say? I mean, is there a toast? Or is it just bottoms up?”

He chuckles as he picks up his glass, holding it toward me. I try not to look at his drink, but I’m praying there’s no telltale powder floating on top and that there’s no bad taste, although I’m not sure how anything could taste worse than the gin and tonic as it was. “Here’s to you, my dear girl, and to a memorable evening. You just let Mr. T take care of you and all will be well. I promise.”

We clink glasses and then I take a swig. “Hey, that’s not too bad. Is that really a Long Island iced tea?”

“As best I can recall, it is.” He takes a sip of his drink, and I realize it’s up to me to distract him with chatter, to keep him talking and drinking until it’s gone. Every last drop.

“This is an interesting outfit you picked out for me,” I say as I smooth out my skirt. “Is there any special reason?”

He nods with a faraway look. “Yes, I suppose there is.”

When he doesn’t expound on his answer, I decide to run with it anyway. “Did you go to an expensive private school as a boy?”

He smiles. “As a matter of fact.”

“And I’ll bet you had a girlfriend there, right?”

He just takes another sip, as if he doesn’t want to really talk about this.

“Or maybe it was a crush?” I take a sip. “There was a girl you really wanted to get to know, but maybe you were shy … or she was shy … but I’ll bet she was really pretty.” I force a smile. “And I’m sure you were good-looking too.”

His brows barely lift and I can tell that I’m making him slightly uncomfortable, but at least he’s still drinking. I continue talking to him, spinning a story about how I had a crush on a boy, but the boy didn’t know I existed. Part of it’s true and part of it’s make-believe. “But then I started to get pretty. And Leo started paying attention to me.” I lean forward, peering at Mr. T. “He wanted to go out with me. And you know what I did?”

“No, what did you do?”

“I told him to forget about it,” I say triumphantly.