Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby) (31 page)

Defeat absorbed into me, battling with my nerves. Staying upbeat was a challenge, the ever present silence slicing into my sanity. On and on, I peered behind doors, occasionally encountering a lock. Soon, every room in the hall was stuck, not yielding to my tugs.

Every room...

But one.

Under my palm, the knob twisted. I jerked, actually shocked after the endless row of stuck ones. This door sat near the end of the hall, before the passage took a hard turn to who knew where.

Licking my lips, I shivered, reaching out to push on the wood. I expected to find more seedy activity, because so far, that was all this mansion had presented me with.

Tall ceilings hung with sparkling chandeliers. It was wide, spacious; a kind of ball room, except this place was far more devious. Instead of dancers, several half-naked girls waited for me. Some were lying down, others propped against the walls limply. There were multiple tables, gorgeous old wood that was now covered in a plethora of white gold.

Cocaine.

But the selection didn't end there.

Needles, rubber tubes, lighters and other items littered the place. It was a juxtaposition of classy, old money and the contents of forgotten alleys. I'd never seen a drug den so well stocked, or so decorated.

And then I saw her.

Her back was to me, her profile aimed at the distant wall, like she was seeing something that wasn't there. Long, tangled hair slid over her shoulders, the short dress she wore exposing her skinny, pale arms.

This was a woman who fit in with the other drug-infected lot. When pasted among the rest, she wouldn't have stood out. A lost girl from a time filled with laughter, long bike rides, and old promises.

A forgotten girl.

But nothing could ever make me forget her.

“Claudine,” I whispered.

The woman jerked around, her eyes so deep in her head they could have been stone wells. Her skull was starting to show through her cheekbones. Stress, and—by the looks of the stash sprawling around—drugs, had not been kind to my sister.

I was too overwhelmed to care.

Heat pushed at the back of my eyeballs. Stepping forward, I covered my mouth, willing myself not to start crying like a sloppy mess. But this was her, she was
right here.
My plan for escape was a distant, nagging itch. I just wanted to touch her.

I needed her to be real.

She hadn't moved, her eyes searching mine in an almost feral way. Then, slowly, she straightened up. Her voice cracked, hollow with doubt. “Flora? Am I seeing things?”

“No,” I sobbed, wiping at my eyes. Smiling helplessly, I closed the gap, crushing her in a hug. She was taller than me, but she felt so much smaller. “Claudine, god, I can't believe it!”

I'd done it. I'd really found her.

Her fingers came down, gently prying me away. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking around at the other girls. Some were watching, most didn't lift their heads.

“I'm saving you!” Scrubbing at my cheek, I backed away. “Come on, we need to get out of here. I came in through a window in the hall, no one was even watching.”

She stayed where she was. She could have been a statue. “You need to go.”

A flicker of uncertainty wormed into my core. My smiled was strained. “Claudine, come on. If we don't go now, I'm not sure—”

“Not sure you'll escape?”

The voice came from behind me. Spinning, I yanked my gun free, aiming it unsteadily at the three men in the doorway. The man who had spoken could have blocked it himself.

He was bloated, stomach stretching out the button-down, baby blue shirt that dipped over his belt. A stiff, white jacket hung open, his hands buried in the pockets.

His grin told me, quite blatantly, that I was fucked.

“Stay there!” I shouted, training the pistol on each of them. Who did I choose? Who was the most dangerous?

Sighing sympathetically, the plump man started to move his right arm.

“Don't!” I snapped.

He paused, then kept going, his lips making a soothing sound—as if I were a wild animal. “Easy there, it's just a rag.” Tugging the handkerchief out, he mopped at his temple. “Gets mighty hot out here in the Glades, even with the air conditioning. You're sweating too, dear girl. Why don't you sit down and relax?”

I slid my heel backwards, hissing at Claudine. “Is there another way out?”

My sister said nothing. In front of me, the men were smiling.

“Claudine, is there another way!?” I demanded.

“Yes Claudine,” the fat man chuckled. “Tell our friend how unwanted guests leave.”

This wasn't how this was supposed to go down. My panic was kicking in, nerves crackling. Did I have to shoot them?

Finally, my sister spoke. “Flora, stop. You can't win.”

“Flora,” the man repeated. “Oh, that's a pretty name. Do you know her, Claudine?”

I was too terrified to take my eyes off of the men. “Claudine... please... tell me what to do,” I whispered.

She lifted her voice, begging. “Tully, please. Don't hurt her.”

Tully, so that's his name.

“If she drops the gun, I won't,” he said.

“I'm not dropping the gun! We're getting out of here! Move out of our way!”

No one even twitched.

Tully puffed up, mopping his face again. “Claudine, this is getting old. If she doesn't drop the gun, I'm having the boys fill her with holes. The gators can finish the rest.”

Gators?
My eyes went wide, and he must have noticed, because he laughed.

“Oh yes,” Tully said, eyebrows lowering. “You asked how you were getting out of here. One of your options involves the stomach of our little water friends.”

I didn't want to ask what the other options were. Bracing myself, I fixed the pistol on Tully. Instantly, the other men had their weapons on me. I hadn't noticed them pulling them free. It felt like every molecule in the air was weighing me down, slowing me to the point of sluggishness.

But I had to do something.

I had to—

Arms circled my throat, hands grappling for my gun from behind. I gasped, not ready for the sudden attack. “Claudine!” I choked, the crook of her elbow on my jugular. As frail as she looked, she was strong, and she had leverage.

Blackness blotted my vision, my fingers clinging to the gun.
No, not like this! I can't let it end like this!
I prayed to anyone that would listen. I cursed the way of the world. I hoped for a damn miracle.

It wasn't enough.

Stumbling to my knees, I let the weapon go. Everyone was on me at once, thicker hands snatching my wrists, lifting me to my feet. One of the other biker's had my arms, pinning them to my spine. He was yanking my shoulders painfully, but I didn't care.

Focusing on my sister, I tried to understand. “Why?” I whispered, my world a pinpoint that saw only her. “How could you?”

Regret swam over her sharp features. She didn't speak, she simply turned to Tully and handed him my gun—Ronin's gun. He chuckled warmly, petting her head before eyeballing me. “That was unwise of you, girl. Did you really expect her to side with you, over me? After everything I've given her?”

I couldn't break my stare. Silently, I willed Claudine to do something. Attack the man, grab a gun, jump forward and save me. Just anything.

Anything.

She ducked her head, unable to meet my eyes.

Tully grabbed her arm, stroking down the inside until he hit her wrist. This let me see the ruined, red lines crossing her fish-belly white skin. Either other people had been shooting her up, or she'd stopped caring who saw the proof of her addiction and done it herself. I was unsettled, seeing such an intimate display between him—the man I was quickly realizing was in charge—and my sister.

Patting the back of her hand, Tully smiled at me. “Now that things are settled, who
are
you?”

Claudine, why...
I ripped at the strong fingers holding me, but it was useless.

Clicking his tongue, Tully stepped closer. Any kindness in his face melted away when he gripped my chin, fingers worming in hard enough to make me cry out. “I asked you a question,” he whispered. “Tell me who you are. It's only polite after you've broken into my home. Hmn?”

Narrowing my eyes, I moved my tongue. He leaned in, expecting me to talk.

My spit splattered over his cheek.

The look of surprise he wore, skin shiny with my saliva, gave me wicked satisfaction. My victory was brief. His palm flew, cracking me in the temple, leaving my ears ringing and burning. Hair tickled my jaw, my attention moving to the ornate rug. It was beautiful, and that felt... wrong. How could a den full of tragedy be so lovely?

“Stupid girl,” Tully said.

“Don't!” Claudine screamed.

Lifting my head, I stared down the barrel of Tully's gun. He cleaned the spit from his face, pressing the metal tip of the weapon into my skull. “She doesn't want to speak, fine. She can take her pride to her grave.” His grin was so huge I could see his molars. “The gators will appreciate your principals.”

He put his finger on the trigger. That was when I knew I would die here. After everything, getting so far, it would all end in a simple spray of my blood. Death never feels real, not until it's crushing your lungs with despair.

I should have fought more... or I should have talked my way out of this. The blackness corroding my heart told me it wasn't worth it.

We could have escaped,
I thought, looking at my sister.
We could have been free.
I could have saved her...

If she had only wanted to be saved.

My hero of a sister, the woman I looked up to, no longer existed. Ronin had been right about her all along. She was a junkie who wanted a fix, and here, with Tully, she could get all the fucking drugs she wanted.

Saints and sinners.

The phrase made me nauseous.

“Please...”

Blinking, I recognized Claudine's raspy voice. Her fingers rested on Tully's shoulder, bleary eyes shining. “Please,” she said again. “Don't do this. She's my little sister.”

The fat man gave her a dubious look. He wagged his gun at me. “Really? Is that what's going on here? A reunion?”

Claudine caught the disgust in my expression. She looked away, focusing on Tully. “Don't kill her. That's all I'm asking.”

Chuckling, he tucked his gun away. Scooping an arm around Claudine's waist, he sighed in my direction. “Your sister came here to rescue you. I'd call it sweet, if it wasn't such a foolish mistake. Flora, was it?” He cocked his head. “Did you come here alone?”

Ronin.
Just thinking about him was torture. Why had I done all of this? Abandoning him, only to find out that my sister was a damn dead end.

What would have happened if I'd stayed there with him? Rolling in the grass, waking together, giving up on this fruitless chase. We'd had a small slice of Heaven on the side of that road, and I'd walked away without looking back.

Tully was right. I
was
foolish.

I hadn't answered him so far. He didn't act like he expected that to change. Swallowing, I said, “Yes. I'm alone.”

Alone, alone, alone.

I wanted to take the photo from my pocket and burn it.

Curling his fingers affectionately in Claudine's hair, Tully opened his mouth. The sound of a phone ringing cut him off. Scowling, he yanked a cellphone from his jacket, crushing it to his ear. “What is it?” His face screwed up as he listened. “Don't act like I'm the one running on lost time,” he muttered. “It's your damn fault the girls got here so late. I'm gathering them up now, Lucky. They'll be at the ship before it leaves. Next time you call, watch your fucking tone,
brother
.”

Lucky?
Had I heard right? Tully and Lucky—the man who'd bartered against Ronin for me—were brothers?

Slowly, I squinted back at Tully. The man looked nothing like a biker, he had the air of a lazy rich man who always got his way. Who wore a white jacket, except someone who thought he wouldn't get dirty?

Hiding his phone, Tully nodded at the men holding me. “We need to get ready. Prepare the fanboats in the back, then get the girls loaded. The ship is leaving in an hour.” Turning towards me, he shared an awful grin. “I don't know what I'll do with you yet. Maybe I'll let you stay here, with your sister. We'll have such a happy family.” Chuckling, he kissed Claudine on the cheek, fondling one of her breasts while never breaking eye contact with me.

Gritting my teeth, I thought I heard one of them cracking. As upset as I was, watching him fondle her was retched. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

“For now,” Tully said, “Search her, then tie her up and stick her in the corner.” Hesitating, he pointed at my sister. “Claudine, introduce her to something that will calm her down. She seems... tense.”

The stacks of drugs in the room telegraphed clearly what Tully thought was good for 'calming' me. The man holding my arms turned me towards another biker, his thick hands digging through my jacket and khakis.

Blinking, he lifted the photograph into view. “Check this out,” he said, handing it over to Tully.

The fat man took one look at it, before slapping his thigh as he laughed. Those piggy eyes sparkled from me to Claudine. “You really are sisters, aren't you?” He dangled the picture.

Claudine flinched. I wanted her to feel shame, I really did. I still hated how smug Tully looked.

Sliding the photo into his jacket, Tully headed for the door. He kept chuckling under his breath until he was out of earshot. One of the men followed after, his gun no longer brandished. The threat was over with, if they even considered me a threat.

“Come on,” the last biker holding me grunted. “This way.” He didn't take me far, just to the back end of the room where a few other girls were strewn about. One of them stumbled when he shoved her, giving up her chair.

I didn't have the heart to struggle. My body was heavy, weakened by the pain of my betrayal. Sitting there, I looked at my lap while my arms were bound behind me. He left my legs alone; they obviously weren't worried about me doing anything heroic.