Green Broke Woman (9 page)

“What? And give up like a failure?”

Well, that wasn't the button he meant to
push. “No. I just mean pick a different career.”

“You think I can't do it? That I'm too fat
and my glasses will keep me from getting a bigger part?”

He let out a long whistle. “No need to fly
off the handle, honey. It was just a suggestion. And you're not fat.”

She pointed to her chest innocently to
identify the subject of her conversation, but his eyes honed in on the pleasing
orbs for a different reason.

Look at her face, stupid, not
her breasts. She's upset.

“I may not be thin and I might be too chicken
to try contacts, but someday I'm going to be famous and then you'll see.
They'll all see.”

He stared at her curiously. “Are you trying
to prove something to somebody?”

“He did a really nice thing for me. I owe him
a lot.” Her voice cracked like she didn't even believe in what she said.

“Hammond?”

She blinked at him, and in that second her
eyes were jaded and lost.

“Yes, Beck.”
His name caught in her throat, and she
looked down, shuddering when she read another text she got. “I really have to
go back now.”

Virgil didn't know what was up, but he didn't
like it one bit. “Go home, Kayla.”

She shook her head, looking shaken up. “I
want to stay.”

“Why? Gretchen's gone. Hammond's obviously
clean. You're free to go.”

“This isn't just about you, okay? My boss
knows people. I came out here to be an actress, and so help me God, I'm not
quitting until I do just that.”

“At what cost?”

Her eyes lidded, and her face distorted. When
she spoke, her timbre conveyed how choked up she was through a thin veil of
anger. “I'm not a whore.”

Her reply took him by surprise. “I never said
you were. Is this because I didn't stop you from sucking my cock? I offered to
pleasure you back, but you turned me down.”

She seemed to be somewhere else at the moment,
somewhere dark and unpleasant. “Please don't come around anymore.”

“I don't—”

“Virgil, please. I'll miss you, but
it's
better this way.”

He stared her down hard until her eyes slid
away from his. She was hiding something in those telling eyes. A secret she
seemed willing to fight him tooth and nail to keep. “Go home, Kayla. Go back to
Kentucky where you belong.”

Her misty eyes became empty, and her broken
voice took on a cold, lifeless note. “I can't ever go home. You should, though.
You're right. Beck is a dead end as far as your sister goes.”

“Wait. Did you really mean what you said
about not wanting to see me again?”

She sniffled, trying to act tough, though he
knew she was crying. “Yes.”

“Give me a reason.”

“Because every time I look at you I'm
reminded of back home and everything I left back there.” Her voice cracked, and
she sobbed. “And it hurts. You make me feel guilty for being here, even though
it's not my fault.”

“What's not your fault?”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “You have to go.
Please. I can't see you anymore.”

“Kayla, I know you're hiding something from
me. Now why don't you just tell me what it is?”

She made a sad, little squeak. “I need you to
leave so I can do what I have to do to get ahead without being reminded of
country values.” She put her hand to her face. “Oh God, that’s not me. This
really hurts. I’m so sorry.”

Virgil leaned forward on the seat to take her
hand, but she flinched, eying him with disgust and genuine fear.

“Don't touch me! I said stop, so stop. I
don't owe you anything!” She bawled the words out and took off.

He watched her leave, wondering what the hell
was up with her.

Kayla didn't want him around anymore. He'd
back off if it was what she really wanted, but he got the nagging feeling it
wasn't.

Chapter
Four: Breaking Free

This slinky, black sleeveless dress was the
epitome of sex. The dark material hugged all of Kayla’s womanly curves, and the
black lace extended beyond the soft cups and became sheer around her
midsection, though the lower portion wasn't see-through.

The hem fell high on her thighs, exposing her
leg tattoos. The black dragon she'd gotten for Master Hugh on her right thigh
and the little black bird on her left thigh. That one had been for Keith
Langley. He'd always called her little bird because of her gentility and her
restlessness to fly away.

The plunging V-neckline of the black dress
showcased her generous bust to the hilt. She wore her silver necklace with the
small heart charm that had a diamond in the center. She'd rarely worn it since
living with Beck Hammond, worried he might figure out that it had been a gift
from a past lover.

But today she must. She was busting out of
this hellhole, and her greatest possession, the necklace Master Hugh had given
her for her birthday one year, must be taken with her.

While she'd once schemed of breaking free of
her daddy's control, dressing like a tart and having men drool over her, now
she craved the chivalrous way Travis Langley used to treat her, like she was a
living, breathing pot of gold. It was time to flee the self-interested perverts
and get back to Kentucky where the real men were—the ones who knew how to treat
a woman right.

She would spend her last days on earth with
her best friends and true loves, but she couldn't ever be with them, not now.
Her eyes watered at the cold, bitter truth of reality, but she shoved the
crippling sorrow and pain of regret aside. She'd made her bed, and now she must
lie in it ... for however long or brief that might be.

She tapped her bare foot against her
bodyguard, Slade’s boot. He’d eaten the brownies she’d baked with a sedative in
them. He was out cold. Now it was time to run. Kayla hurried up the stairs into
Beck's office, looking for that nightmarish tape of her that he'd made. Seeing
the correct date on it, she grabbed the video and dashed into Beck's room for
her purse.

She glanced up at herself in the mirror. Her
long ginger curls fell to her breasts, but they did nothing to conceal the
suffocation-inducing depths of her cleavage. Regardless, she probably didn't
have time to change.

She stuffed some baby blue pajamas into her
purse. Maybe she had to time to grab a few things.

Fear told her otherwise. Best to get the hell
out of there and get new stuff later. She slipped on some black strappy high
heels and then tiptoed down the stairs.

The butler, Ralph, appeared surprised to see
her leaving alone. “Isn't Slade going with you, Miss Sanders?”

“You mean Beck didn't tell you? I'm being put
on probation. This bracelet has a tracking device in it, that way I can get out
and have a little freedom, but he'll still be able to keep an eye on me.” She
tried to feign courage beneath the butler's confused scrutiny. “Slade wanted
the day off.”

Ralph eyed her long and hard, acting
perplexed and uncertain.

“Call Beck and ask him if you don't believe
me. He probably won't be happy that you disturbed him, but if you feel you need
to check—”

“No. I believe you. Where will you be going?”

“Just out for some shopping.
Beck gave me some money to spend.”

“Let me see your wallet.”

She handed it to him impatiently. “My license
isn't in there. He has it.”

Ralph handed the wallet back to her. “In that
case, have a good time, miss.”

“Thanks. I will.”

Kayla left quickly, trying to act inconspicuous.
She took a bus to the police station, hoping Beck didn't have people watching.
She couldn’t believe she’d made it out the door. Her twelve weeks of misery
were finally over.

****

Kayla sat nervously at Bruce Callaghan's desk
after giving him a quick rundown of her story. He looked vaguely familiar.
Where had she seen him before? She even knew his voice from somewhere.

Bruce stroked his chin, seeming bothered
about something. “That's quite an allegation, Miss Sanders. Do you have any
proof?”

“Yeah, right here.”

His face perked with interest and mild
astonishment when she reached into her purse and pulled out a video.

“There were a bunch of others, but he keeps
them locked in a vault. I don't know the combination. This was one he made
recently.”

“What's on it?”

She squirmed in her seat, withdrawing her
focus from him. Humiliation burned in her cheeks. “Proof of what they did to
me.”

“They?”

She nodded uncomfortably, wishing she wasn't
dressed like a frigging prostitute. Beck Hammond always made her dress that
way.
“Beck, Slade, and this other guy.
I don't know
his name. He wore a mask and a uniform.”

Bruce's countenance shadowed with caution.
“What kind of uniform?”

“It was too dark to tell. I think it was a
cop uniform.”

He sat back in his seat and folded his arms.
“I see. I think you'd better give me that tape so I can show it to the higher-ups.
They're in a meeting right now, but I'll be sure and give it to them
afterward.”

She handed the tape to him, feeling relief
wash over her, though her hands shook with adrenaline. “You guys will protect
me from them, right?”

He stuffed the tape into a drawer in his
desk. “Of course we'll protect you, sweetheart. You just do exactly what we say
and no harm will come to you.”

She smiled weakly, feeling unsettled by the
familiar words. “Okay.”

“Now you just sit right there while I make a
quick phone call. Everything is going to be all right now.” Bruce pulled out
his cell phone and walked around the corner.

Kayla racked her brain trying to figure out
where she'd seen his face before and why those words sounded so familiar to
her. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. A masked stranger had promised her
protection once if she obeyed. He was one of Beck’s vile friends.

It was a long shot. She'd only glimpsed the
uniformed man's face in the dark when he'd taken off his mask. She'd been
blindfolded at that point, but not quite good enough.

She cautiously went around the desk and
pulled the video out from his drawer, peeking over her shoulder and stuffed the
tape into her purse.

Bruce's hushed voice around the corner was
still on the phone. “Two minutes? That's fine. I'll keep her detained until you
get here. No, she doesn't have a clue. I've got the tape.”

Kayla choked down her fear. Her eyes bugged
out when she recognized the garter in his drawer. The uniformed man had taken
it off her before. A cold shudder chilled her as she shoved the garter into her
purse and hurried out of there. Her eyes stung with fright, but she forbade the
tears to come. She needed to keep her vision and mind clear and focus on not
getting caught.

Bruce Callaghan had sat there, pretending not
to know her and all the while he had. He'd promised to protect and help her,
but instead he alerted her captors that she was on the run. Even the police
couldn't help her. She could trust no one.

Everyone walking and driving by looked
suspicious to her, even scampering children.
Paid little
spies.
Some pedestrians sniffed at her scant attire in judgment, but
self-righteousness didn't bring her down. She didn't give a damn what they
thought.

It was the people who looked upon her in lust
that made her leery. Certainly most of them would only ever look and never
touch unless given permission. But it was the knowledge that some people would
violate another human being if they were guaranteed not to get caught that had
her scared stiff.

She knew there were good people who would
never defile her even if there was no law to answer to for it. But walking by
strangers ogling her body and not knowing ... it was the not knowing that got
her. Not knowing whether they were people who sinned in thought alone, but
would always be governed by conscience rather than law, or if they were in fact
dormant criminals who hadn't been born of the required circumstances that would
make them monsters that scared her almost to tears.

Beck Hammond had too many friends in too many
places in Beverly Hills. She could talk to cops in another city. Right now she
just needed to break away.

Chapter
Five: My Old Kentucky Home

Kayla wandered down the road several miles
outside of Lexington. She hadn't been home to Kentucky in years. Even after the
extensive period of separation, walking alone on the country road with nothing
but lush oak trees and miles of rolling green pastures all around her, it was
like seeing an old friend again.

The long stretch of greenery was interrupted
every now and then by flowering crabapple trees and four-legged brown splashes
munching on the verdant grass. It had been a while since she'd ridden a horse.
Would it come back to her naturally, or would she be timid if she mounted one
of those tall thoroughbreds now?