ESCORT: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 6

  Was it the emotion? That was something new, too. I’d felt so close to him. Not just physically, although of course I’d loved him holding me against his body. I’d loved tracing my finger over every tattoo while he soothed sensation back into my abused wrists. But there was something more between us that I still couldn’t quite get a grasp on. Even now, it was alive inside me, flickering and warm and happy.

  Maybe it was just his eyes. When he turned that green stare on me, I felt more at home than I’d ever felt in my life.

  But none of that mattered. I had to keep reminding myself of that. It didn’t make a difference what I thought about him, because Ember didn’t care about me. I was nothing more than a job to him. I thought back to how he’d tossed me on his bike like a package to be delivered. That’s all I was – a package. Pick me up, drop me off, then go back to running around town while prowling for new sluts, or whatever it was he did back home. Forget about me entirely.

  “Nothing more than a job,” I said to myself over and over. “Nothing more.”

  I had to go now. Before he woke up. I gritted my teeth and eased through the open door. Behind me, Ember slept.

  I leafed through the money I’d taken from his wallet as I crossed the parking lot and hailed a taxi. It was maybe a thousand dollars altogether – plenty to get me back on track with my original plan.

  The taxi dropped me off at the bus station. I walked up to the ticket counter.

  “One ticket to New York, please,” I asked. I kept my eyes down at the ground. If Daddy had been desperate enough to send out an alert for me, I didn’t want to be noticed here.

  The cashier printed out the ticket and took the money I offered. I held it up in my hand and looked at it. One step closer.

  The bus wheezed into the station moments later. I climbed aboard, handing the driver my ticket before I walked down the aisle. I settled into a window seat and rested my head against the glass. Exhaustion overtook me, but I couldn’t sleep, because the excitement was even more overpowering. I was on my way. No one knew where I was, who I was, or where I was trying to go. Daddy would think I was on my way home, so I’d have at least a day’s head start before he could start trying to track me down. Ember wouldn’t know my destination, either, not that he would bother to chase after me. Why would he? He didn’t care about me. I was a notch in his belt, nothing more.

  A few more people took their seats scattered around the bus, but it stayed mostly empty. After fifteen minutes, the doors hissed shut and we started to roll forward.

  I dozed in and out for the first hour. The Louisiana landscape whisked past the window, all leafy green trees and desolate marshes. I couldn’t wait to leave it all behind. I imagined where I was going: Berlin, a massive city, with skyscrapers stretching up in every direction and people bustling around on all sides. It was going to be incredible.

  I woke up to the bus slowing down at the first stop. The bus driver stood up and announced that we had ten minutes to stretch our legs or use the bathroom. I felt like I needed to walk around, so I filed off with the rest of the passengers.

  I used the gas station restroom, then walked over to the sink to wash my hands. I looked at my wrists as I scrubbed with soap. The ringed bruises had started to fade into bright yellows and greens. Scabs skittered over where the metal had cut into my skin. I thought back to Ember stroking my wrists and holding me while I told him about my father. Just before we fell asleep, he’d promised he would find a way to help me escape.

  But I couldn’t rely on Ember. He didn’t care and wouldn’t ever care. No, I had to take my chances where I could get them, and that meant leaving Ember behind. I’d left him a note, enough so he would know that it hadn’t been easy for me. I wasn’t sure if he would give a damn about that, but I’d left the message regardless, for my own peace of mind if nothing else.

  Something caught my eye as I rinsed my hands, cut the faucet off, and looked up in the mirror. A series of facts smashed into my brain like a runaway train:

  There was a man looking at me.

  This was a women’s restroom. Men shouldn’t be in here.

  He was smiling. It wasn’t a friendly smile.

  He had tattoos covering his shaved head, and piercings gleaming from every inch of skin.

  One of the tattoos stitched across his forehead read, “Lost Souls.”

  He had a black bag in his hand.

  He was reaching to put it over my head.

  Then the world went dark. I kicked and screamed, but he clamped a hand over my mouth before I could draw any attention. For the second time in the last few days, I was having my freedom snatched away from me.

  I was dragged out of the bathroom and down the aisles of the gas station. I heard the man holding me order someone else to grab my feet, just as hands reached down to pick me off the ground.

  “Don’t move a fucking inch,” he twanged at the other patrons in the store. I heard a gun cock.

  I was carried outside and thrown into the back of a pickup truck. Rope was tied around my wrists and ankles. On every side of me, motorcycles rumbled to life. Then the truck lumbered down the road, whisking me away to yet another prison – or something worse.

  Everything I had been thinking up until now vanished like dust in the wind. Just like that. I’d been so sure of who I was and who I wanted to be. I thought I knew what I wanted and that I knew how to get it.

  But I was wrong. I just wasn’t capable of breaking away without help. Every time I tried, I ended up becoming a victim to someone else. I didn’t know who the Lost Souls were, but judging by that man’s smile, they weren’t my friends and they weren’t Daddy’s friends, either.

  Everything I had told myself about Ember was a lie. I wanted him around me, and what’s more, I needed him. I’d only known him for a day; to think these kinds of thoughts was insane! But I couldn’t keep fooling myself. Curled up against him was freedom.

  Where was he now, then? I hoped he was close. I hoped he had followed me. I hoped he needed me like I needed him.

  The truck caromed down the road. This was all sickeningly familiar. There was only one difference this time: I had hope.

  * * *

  Night had fallen with a thud. The men in the clubhouse were fidgety. They checked and rechecked the weapons they kept squeezed between their hands. They drank too much and laughed too loudly. For the most part, though, they left me alone, a fact for which I was extremely grateful. I’d been pinched and prodded like a show horse the entire time I was with the cartel. These men didn’t seem to give a shit about me. After tying me to a booth in the back, they ignored me and kept to themselves.

  I looked around. This place was threadbare and falling apart. It hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades, and what little was left on the walls had begun to peel off in big, sagging strips. “Lost Souls MC” was tagged in a streak above the bar, but even that looked like it had lost some luster. This was nothing like the gleaming office where Daddy did his business.

  The men looked just like their building: exhausted and on the verge of collapse. If I had to guess, I would think that this club had fallen on some hard times. There was a nasty scent of desperation lingering over everything. It was obvious in the way they dressed, the way they talked, the way they moved.

  I wondered if I was supposed to be their big ticket to the top. But what value could I possibly hold for them? They hadn’t even glanced in my direction since we’d gotten here, much less touched me, so it was hard to imagine that they planned to use me just to get their own rocks off. Maybe they wanted to sell me like some prostitute, or just extort Daddy for some more money.

  I gulped. If that last one was the case, part of me wasn’t sure whether he would pay.

  Ember wouldn’t get out of my head. I kept thinking about how safe it had felt to be in his arms. It was the craziest thing: who would have thought that being so thoroughly his would make me feel so free? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I tried to let the thoughts go. I needed
to breathe, to concentrate on figuring my way out of this mess. But every time I attempted to eavesdrop, the men saw me craning my neck in their direction and huddled closer or dropped their voices lower.

  Time crawled by while I alternated between thinking about Ember and forcing myself not to. The night grew darker. It must be getting close to midnight by now. The men had been talking for hours. Some paced, some cleaned their weapons, but a core group stayed around the center table, pulled in tight and pointing out things on a map or some document laid out between them.

  I slept intermittently, catching a few minutes of rest whenever I couldn’t fight the exhaustion off anymore. The world certainly had a way of beating on a girl sometimes.

  Suddenly, the men stood up and pushed their chairs back. The scrape of their motion startled me awake. I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, as two men came and untied me from where I had been locked up.

  They led me out to the truck we came in on, pushing me into the backseat and blindfolding me again. We drove off, accompanied by a horde of motorcycles again. At first, the ride was smooth. But after a few minutes, we must have turned off onto some dirt road, because everything began to bump around. It took another five or so minutes before we pulled to a stop and the engine was cut off.

  Hands opened the door and pulled me down. I followed, stumbling against uneven ground. At one point, my foot caught on a root and I tumbled to the ground. The same rough hands yanked me to my feet and prodded me to keep moving. I tried to ask where we were going, but no one answered. Their low voices talking to each other were too indistinct for me to understand.

  My legs had started to grow tired. Four or five days of constant abuse was taking its toll on my body. Everything ached or stung or sweated, desperate for just a few minutes of relief. Where was Ember to rub my pain away when I needed him?

  Finally, they stopped me. I heard breath huffing on all sides. It sounded like a lot of people, more than had been in the clubhouse – maybe twenty or twenty-five men in total. Guns clacked and locked while a stern voice gave orders.

  “Grunt, Sicko, you two take rear. Gnarl, you’re up in the tree with the long-range binocs and the sniper. Crust, Barbarian, and Nuts, left side, don’t go more than two hundred yards deep. Dominion, post up on the top of that hill over to the right. The rest of you disperse evenly along the perimeter. The clearing is down below. That shitstain father of hers is supposed to be alone. We’ll see.”

  “Father”? Daddy was coming?

  Before I could fully understand what was going on, I was shoved into moving again. We broke away from the main group. There were two men with me, judging by the number of footsteps I heard. It grew quieter as we moved farther into the woods.

  “This motherfucker’s never gonna know what hit him,” said the Lost Soul behind me.

  “Dumb bastard,” agreed the one in front.

  “How much money’s he bringin’?”

  “Four mil, I thinks.”

  The man whistled. “That’s a nice bit of bread, ain’t it?”

  “It’s not bad at all.”

  “Shame he won’t be getting his little girl back, though.”

  My heart thudded. So Daddy was coming to pay a ransom for me, and they were planning to rob him without letting me go.

  “What’s gonna happen to her, d’ya think?”

  “Not sure yet.” I felt a palm take a handful of my ass and squeeze, then the pop of the man behind me sucking his finger. “I’d sure like to keep her around for a bit, though.”

  They both laughed evilly. “Could always sell her, too,” said one. “A pretty bitch like this’ll fetch half a mil on the open market. I bet the Diablos would love to have her.”

  Sell me? I needed to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. Ember, where are you? I thought to myself. I had no way of knowing if he was coming, or if he cared at all. But I had to hope.

  Whichever man was holding the rope attached to my wrists tugged on it, stopping me in my tracks.

  “We’re supposed to be somewheres around here, right?”

  “Close enough.”

  “Let’s set her down, then.”

  Two pairs of hands pushed me onto my ass on the cold forest floor. There was a tightening on the rope. I guessed they were tying me to a tree or something similar so I couldn’t get away. The men finished the knots and fell silent. Around us, the forest swarmed with life. I heard owls hooting and rodents scurrying in the underbrush. The leaves swished in the gentle wind.

  “Christ,” said one after a while. “What’s taking so long?”

  “Dunno, but I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

  “Hold it.”

  “I’ll try, but damn, man, I shouldn’t have had so much beer at the clubhouse.”

  “Yeah. Fuck, these masks are itchy as hell. Why we gotta wear ‘em again?”

  “Don’t want that fuckstick Baudelaire giving our mug shots to the cops. He’s got more pull in the precinct than we do. Gotta lay low.”

  “Fuck. Can’t wait to rip this thing off.”

  “Yeah.” A pause. “Ah, shit, I really gotta go piss, brother.”

  “Aw, fuck it, go ahead. I’ll watch her. Hurry your ass up, though. Better get back before the old man arrives.”

  Footsteps crashed away until they receded into the distance and silence resumed. I shivered in the cold night. In front of me, the Lost Soul whistled softly to himself.

  The jostle of something heavy falling into the bushes somewhere far off drew my attention.

  “The fuck was that…?” murmured the man to himself. Someone jogged up towards us.

  “Sorry,” said the low voice. “Fell in the bushes.”

  “You idiot.”

  “Yeah, well –”

  “Shh, shut the fuck up. He’s here.”

  My pulse was pounding at a thousand beats a second.

  Daddy was coming.

  Chapter 5: Armageddon

  Ember

  That stupid son of a bitch. He’d made this whole thing into a mess ten times the size of what it needed to be. Why couldn’t he have just listened to me? Pay up, get the girl, and everyone would be able to go home safe and sound. But no, that fuckin’ idiot refused to give up any coin. He thought he was being a hard-ass, standing up to the “criminal element.” Fuck that and fuck him – and fuck that slimy bitch Pincer, too, just for good measure. They could all burn in hell as far as I was concerned.

  But the fact remained that they had cooked up one hell of a disastrous situation and I was gonna have to deal with it no matter what. There was no way I could let Baudelaire and his gang of jolly dumbasses come running into the park, all guns blazing, only for Selena to take a bullet between the eyes because her daddy thought he was a tough guy. I owed her that much, at least.

  All of which explains how I came to be thirty feet off the ground in a tree, squeezed into the most ungodly, uncomfortable position I’d ever been in, holding a gun to my chest and trying not to breathe too loudly. I had good lines of sight to the two main entrances to the park and to the clearing below where the meeting was going to take place. The sun had set a couple hours ago, pushing most of the civilians out of the park. Now, it was quiet and empty.

  Fuck, this shit was ridiculous. And if it had been any other girl but Selena, I would’ve been long gone, halfway back to Houston by now. But it was Selena, and I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t deny the rush of emotions that tore through me every time I thought of her face or those banged-up wrists of hers. More to the point, I couldn’t deny that raging hard-on that popped up every time I reflected back on how she’d looked when she rubbed her soaking pussy against my dick and then slid me inside of her. That was sex on a different level, something I’d never ran across before. Part of me wasn’t sure if I wanted to run across it again. The shit sure was a lot to handle. Fucking random club whores was simpler and easier.

  But goddamn, I thought to myself, it just isn’t the same.

  I needed to focus on some
thing else, anything else. Sitting up in this fucking tree reminiscing about fucking Selena wasn’t gonna save her life, and popping a boner was only gonna make the position I was sitting in that much more uncomfortable. I busied myself with checking my equipment instead.

  On my way from Selena’s father’s house, I’d stopped by a gun shop belonging to a friend of the Inked Angles. I’d started to explain the situation, but the man had only held up a hand and said, “Say no more. What do you need, son?”