Natalie Acres (21 page)

* * * *

“We got her,” Sebastian said, flipping his phone closed and rushing the front door. “Wyatt, call the cops and tell them to meet me at Exploitation
.
Give me a ten-minute head start. I can’t risk them going in first. Make sure you tell them—no bling and no sirens. They go without the racket and noise.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Wyatt called after him.

Sebastian ran to his car, threw open the door, and cranked the engine. As he sped down the road, he whispered, “Hang on, sweet lady. I’m coming after you.”

The music was vile. The club was filthy. And the décor was dated. To add to the horror, some of the men there exposed themselves to anyone who would look. The women dressed like working girls rather than the everyday professional who enjoyed stepping out on a Friday or Saturday night and the staff was anything but friendly.

“I knew you’d love it!” Vince shouted over the crowd. “Come on.”

She followed him through the club, lifting her eyes whenever she could manage to sneak a peek without Vince catching her. Once, he turned around. In a diabolical voice, he said, “If you leave me, I’ll hurt you. I’ll go after your family. Say, ‘I understand.’”

“I understand,” she replied, trying to keep up the persona of dazed and confused. Apparently he didn’t know her family. Her fathers weren’t easy marks and they didn’t take kindly to threats on their daughters.

They continued through the throng of pulsing bodies. Kimberly vaguely remembered the layout of the club, but she easily recalled the reason for the controversy surrounding Exploitation
.

Several perpendicular hallways near the rear exit had been dubbed “the naughty zone” for reasons often cited as grounds for South Carolina divorces. As soon as Vince picked up his pace, she realized where they were headed.

A few minutes later, he slammed her body against the wall and barricaded her between his chubby form and the slimy surface behind her. “Want to go down on me, baby?”

Kimberly stilled under his touch. Aware of where he’d led her, she tried to avoid looking to her left or right as the sounds of oral sex filled the blow-job corridor, a nickname given to the club’s infamous hall.

Hanging over the archway one would find a crude sign used as a woman’s only notice for what awaited her. Attached to the wall, a framed cartoon image depicted a pudgy man smoking a cigar with his trousers balled around his ankles. His hands were on either side of a voluptuous naked woman’s head. The caption read:
I’ll make you famous
.

The cartoon image reminded her of Vince. He probably believed his cock could lead many women to stardom.

Still, he probably shouldn’t test that theory now. Kimberly had already made eye contact with a few of the bouncers. She’d finally spotted a few familiar faces!

Surely someone would realize she was in trouble. Besides, unlike her sisters before her, Kimberly didn’t take threats lying down. Bullies angered her. Threats made her all the more determined to retaliate and taunting didn’t make her weak or crazy. Oh no, she became more determined as time wore on.

“On your knees,” Vince said, pushing down on her shoulders while watching the couple to their immediate right.

The large bear of a man looked down on his sub with adoring eyes, cupping her cheek while she sucked his cock in a slow tempo. Upon closer observation, Kimberly spotted a vibrator remote, settled discreetly in the palm of his hand. As the woman jolted forward, moaning and grunting, her Dom shoved his cock down her throat, changing his rhythm to match hers.

“Did you hear me?” Vince said, lowering his mouth to her ear.

Kimberly looked beyond his shoulder, ignoring him when he twisted around her body and tried to grind his cock against her center. She focused on the patrons, on people she might potentially know. Someone surely recognized her!

The music blared in her ears as the club’s tempo was set by drum-driven music. No one was really paying attention to anyone other than their partners. Male and female forms swayed in a wild beat. Thrashing bodies were lifted into the air as carelessly as flailing arms.

Kimberly needed more attention. She needed a platform, something solid to guarantee people saw and remembered her.

Her gaze followed the lights to an elevated dance floor. Circular platforms housing large cages with wrought-iron bars surrounded the crowded area. Women used their enclosed corrals to showcase their bodies by demonstrating sex acts or provocative dances.

While submissive women followed their Doms’ specific orders, their Masters stood by guarding them, protecting them. Those without anyone nearby were more suggestive in their moves. Perhaps they used the platform to win the attention of one of the other patrons. Then again, maybe some of the women, like Kimberly, enjoyed the idea of being watched, desired.

Acting entranced, Kimberly walked away from Vince. She stared at one of the empty enclosures, realizing her need to perform might save her then.

“You wanna?” Vince asked, pointing at a cage and retrieving his wallet to pay the attendant standing nearby.

“They charge a hundred dollars,” she said, acting as if she thought he couldn’t afford the fee.

“Pennies to a man like me,” he pointed out, thrusting a large bill at the attendant.

Kimberly focused on the attendant unchaining the cage, willing him to pay attention. To her dismay, he never acknowledged her.

Before she climbed the ladder, Vince caught her by the arm. “You put on a show up there. I want every man in this room to envy me by the time you’re done. If you do what I tell you, I’ll reward you, kitten. If you don’t, I’ll punish you for hours. Would you like to know which I enjoy most, kitten?”

She could only imagine. Men like Vince were a disgrace to the community.

“Do you understand, kitten?”

“I understand,” she replied, lowering her eyes.

He patted her behind and sent her on her way. As she climbed the ladder and the gate to the cage was locked behind her, she couldn’t help but cop a smile and wiggle her butt into a catwalk strut. Her confidence was restored once she was out of his reach.

Vince wanted envy? She could help him out a bit.

He wanted to be noticed? He had that one in the bag.

BDSM club goers often turned and stared at the person wearing the snazziest cuffs. Once the cops arrived and led this asshole away, perhaps he’d be remembered for wearing the shiniest silver handcuffs these club patrons had ever seen.
 

Sebastian rushed through the doors at Exploitation, never bothering to wait at the door for the cops who were now circling the building in their cruisers. Thanks to the club’s reputation, officers often viewed problems there as equivalent to domestic violence calls.

He well remembered how cops detested the kink clubs. He and Wyatt had made their living consulting on BDSM club matters. They’d trained countless agents and officers in the field.

As long as Kimberly was still inside, he didn’t care if the officers took all night trying to decide where and how to enter the building. He could handle Vince himself. In fact, he welcomed the idea.

Pushing by the patrons standing in line and waiting for the chance to enter the building, he approached Sam Jackson, Exploitation’s shady general manager. A former convicted felon, Sam ran a tight ship by implementing old business practices. Backdoor beatings weren’t uncommon when someone was caught stealing, and Doms caught mistreating their subs weren’t just banned from the club, their pictures were hung in the lobby on a wall of shame.

“She’s still here, Sebastian,” Sam said.

“Thank God,” he breathed. “Take me to her.”

“If she’s your woman, you probably won’t be too thrilled with the tactic she used to get away from Littleton.”

“As long as she’s safe,” he said, following Sam into the heart of the club.

“She’s in good shape. No one can get to her now. Want me to take you to Littleton first?” Sam asked, nodding toward a bar table for two.

Sebastian’s gaze immediately swept across the elevated enclosures. “Sweet mercy hell.”

Sebastian was a voyeur. He’d gladly admit as much. He liked watching others as they pleasured themselves and each other, but he only enjoyed viewing exhibitionists in this type of setting, where voyeurism was allowed and invited. Still, he never would’ve imagined being turned on in the midst of danger. Then again, he never would’ve imagined Kimberly using the club’s props as a means for escape.

“She’s something else,” Sam said.

“Yes, she is.” His cock stood proud as he watched Kimberly dance to the music, rotating her hips in a gyrating fashion bound to make a few men start screaming. She’d yet to lose the dress she wore, but given the fact Vince was watching her, Sebastian could only imagine what orders she’d received prior to entering the cage.

Dragging his gaze away from Kimberly, he made up his mind. He wouldn’t acknowledge her again until he dealt with Vince.

Sam peered over his shoulder. “We kept a close eye on her after we realized she was yours, Sebastian. He didn’t touch her. She’s a smart cookie, that one. She worked herself out of a pretty touchy situation.” He pointed upward. “That’s how she ended up there.”

Sebastian didn’t follow his finger, but he could feel her eyes on him, watching him, following him as he made his way to Vince’s table.

“I didn’t call Kane, but I know her fathers well, ya know,” Sam said. “Kane wouldn’t have been too pleased with this situation. His daughters, well, his little girls are his whole world.”

From what he’d been told, Kimberly and Evan Cartwell were closer than Kimberly and Kane, but whatever. Everyone feared Kane and for some reason, the community members acted as if only one Cartwell wore the family name. When Kane was younger, he must’ve been a real thorn in the community’s ass.

“Have a good time with that one,” Sam said, pointing at Vince’s table.

“Hold off the cops at the door. I want a minute with him.”

“You got it.” Sam then disappeared into the crowd.

Sebastian glared at Vince’s back, watching as he made videos and saved them to his phone. He didn’t look up at Kimberly, but by the images saved on Vince’s device, she was down to her thong and demi-style bra.

Vince leaned back and held his cell phone high in the air. While he was filming, a man approached him. “Is she yours?”

“Scram!” Vince bellowed.

“Maybe I should ask her,” the guy said, deliberately taunting him for some reason.

Vince lowered his phone. “If you go near her, I’ll kill you.”

“So you’re banging her?” the guy asked.

“Fucking her every which way but loose,” Vince replied, snarling. “You can take that to mean she has the tightest pussy this side of the Mississippi.”

Sebastian attacked then. He pounced on Vince by locking his arm around his neck and dragging him to the floor. “And if you know that from experience, I swear you won’t have to worry about what the cops do to you. I’ll hunt you down and—”

“Back away from the subject!” A police officer shouted above the music as guns were drawn everywhere.

If this was Sam’s idea of holding off the force, he’d hate to see what happened when the club owner gave these boys in blue the VIP treatment. Sebastian tightened his arm around Vince’s neck and gave him a good yank before whispering in his ear, “Stay away from Kimberly Cartwell. Understand?”

Vince sneered. “You have no idea what I am or who I work for.”

Sebastian snatched his phone and stuffed it in his pocket before he grabbed him by his collar and dragged him to his feet. Glaring at Vince, he said tightly, “And you have no idea who or what I am, you piece of shit. I have PIs on my payroll. It won’t take too long to find out who sent you, but I can guess what this was about.”

“I don’t think you can,” Vince said, averting his gaze. “You’ll never own her. You’ll never possess her for longer than a minute. There are men more powerful than you who want her. Men who’ve already taken the important steps to insure they have her.”

Sebastian held his head higher as he processed what Vince was trying to tell him. Shoving his hand deeper in his pocket, he slipped Vince’s cell phone under his cuff, working the device up his sleeve.

“He has my phone,” Vince stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

“I don’t give a damn if he has your woman, your firstborn child, and Fido, your four-legged friend,” the cop said, grabbing him by the collar. “You have a rap sheet long enough to make me think you don’t deserve any rights, much less the right to own and use a phone.”

Sebastian stood taller, staring down the bridge of his nose as he watched the cops drag Vince away from the dance floor.

An evil laugh fell from Vince’s lips. “You think you’ve won the prize? Do you? Hell no! Only one man ever owned that pretty pussy there!” He swung his arm forward, pointing at the elevated cage. “Only one man owned her and only one man has the right to sell her! And it ain’t you!”

Sebastian slipped the phone back into his pocket as the cops led the lunatic away. Then, only then, did he turn and look up at Kimberly.