SEIZED Part 6: A Steamy New Adult Romantic Suspense Thriller (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (4 page)

Carrie

I stand on the street and watch as Jessup and Neon disappear inside the brothel. April looks over in my direction. She’s not looking at me, and she may not be looking at anything. I don’t think she’s lucid at all. The lights of another car flash over her emaciated body, and her Pavlovian attention is drawn back to the game. That’s what Neon wants us to be—trained female dogs that are tools to earn her more coin. That’s how she likes us.

I step back and lean against a wall. My mind stumbles, slowed by the drugs, desperately trying to catch hold of what this new information means. If Neon and Jessup are together, it means Jessup knew about April’s abduction the whole time. He may even be responsible for it.

Another thought enters my mind. How does Jessup, the man that Blake has been investigating for years, wind up in partnership with Blake’s ex-girlfriend? That’s such an unlikely coincidence. Once again, Blake is the common thread. He’s connected to us all in different ways. He’s supposed to know everything there is to know about Jessup. How could he not know his ex is so intimately involved with the man?

It’s ludicrous. He must know.  If he’s been keeping an eye on them both, he has to know, and that means he must have been lying. But why? There has to be a reason he’s hidden so much from me, yet pushed to stay on the case. Was Jason right this whole time about Blake being involved in the scam?

If he isn’t, he’s been missing out on a twisted love triangle. God, I don’t know. Maybe Neon is the smart, conniving one who’s hidden things from Blake. I’m so fucked up, it could be the drugs making my logic go haywire. He must know more. The thought sends ice to my chest. Has Blake benefited from Neon’s prostitution ring, like Jason suggested? Did he have a hand in planning April’s abduction, and mine later on? Oh God. I’m so confused! My heart tells me to have some faith, but my head is telling me Jason Cooper was right. I can’t decide whether Blake Anderson can be trusted right now.

I lean over and look down at my hands. They’re shaking. I don’t know whether it’s the drugs, the cold or the fear. I’m scared of what will happen when I finally get into one of those cars. Neon’s guy went inside a few minutes ago. For now I’m safe just hiding in the shadows, but it’s inevitable—once he comes back, I’ll be down there leaning into an open car window.

I still have a plan to convince some john to get me to safety. To pull that off, I have to be discreet. I may be better off leaving in a customer’s car and begging for help when I’m far enough away from here. I don’t doubt my thug security guy will make me pay the price if I’m caught right here on their street. Every other option seems unbearable. I can’t fathom the pain and anguish it must have cost April to do this even once—if she was ever clear-headed enough to grasp what’s been happening to her.

In some ways I wish I was in as deep a stupor as she is. At least I wouldn’t feel this guilt and shame for something I still haven’t done yet. I feel it now. I’m ashamed standing here on the street. I cringe at the thought of a person assessing me as if I’m a piece of meat. Yet I’m the victim. I should be screaming and calling attention to myself, but here on this street, no one would care to intervene if Neon’s men hurt me. It’s so unjust and terrifying.

I shake my head and try to shift my focus back to Neon and Jessup. He must be bankrolling her, but somehow, he keeps his pristine image, even as the police have him under surveillance. Where’s that surveillance now? He drove here in a big conspicuous limousine and kissed Neon out in plain sight. None of this makes sense.

On the outside, Jessup is sleek and straight-laced. Yet he’s running seedy New York clubs, and now he’s in a brothel? No one can get away with this type of double life without help. Is Blake his inside man? Or is there someone else in the clearing the way for him?

The thing I find despicable and logic-defying is why Jessup would want April wasted and on the streets. His niece? Why would he pretend to care for her after her parents’ death, and then subject her to this? It also doesn’t make sense to abduct someone who’d lead back to him the moment an investigation begins. I have no answers. The reality is I have to stop if I’m going to stay sane. This type of thinking is not going to get me anywhere, no matter how much investigative reporting means to me.

A light drizzle starts to fall. I get instant goosebumps up and down my arms. Someone opens the side door of the building we came out of. It spills light on the damp pavement. Neon’s thug steps out, ready to keep an eye on our progress. I was about to turn to go inside, hoping they would get us out of this rain, but another car pulls in to the curb. I make a show of wandering down. My heart is pounding. Adrenaline floods my system, as I approach.

I feel so awkward but when the window rolls down, the man gawks at me, rolls the window back up, and drives away. For a second, I get a reasonably clear reflection of myself in his passenger window. Shit. It’s no wonder he ran off. I look worse than hell. There are big, red blotches on my skin, my face is gaunt and my hair is stringy. Add the crappy makeup and horrible dress I’m wearing, and I’m officially a hot mess.

The fucked up part of all this is I’m embarrassed. I should be celebrating that I’m safe for now, but I start to cry. I try to fix my hair as I’m sobbing, but I end up knocking my purse into the gutter. I squat and gather the items that have spilled onto the road. Tears start pouring down my cheeks, mixing in with the rain. So much for my smart plan. What a failure! I cover my face and sob some more, stuck out here on the cold, rainy street.

The rain is a constant drizzle now. It’s the type that makes you miserable and cold but doesn’t soak you to the bone.  I manage to pull myself together. At least my plan wasn’t exposed. I may have been rejected by one client, but I didn’t have to submit my body to him. That’s still a small victory.

Recognizing that, I stand with some pride. I place my soaked purse under my arm and move back a little, hoping for shelter from the roof’s overhang. There’s little to be found. I’m left with the reminder that April is not here. While I was trying to find us an escape, a john picked her up. Right now, she’s in the client’s car. The last I saw of it, it went around the back alley. I don’t even want to think what she’s doing right now.

Another set of lights approach from down the street. I can’t see the car yet, but the feeling in my stomach is one of both hope and dread. This could be my second chance at escape, or my initiation into sucking cock for money.

I wait and watch as the car slows down. It nearly comes to a stop, but keeps rolling at a snail’s pace. The passenger-side windows are wound down, and the sound of young men laughing comes from inside. I feel my face flush as they shout all manner of degrading comments to mock me. This is exactly the type of shame that working girls face every day. They’re abused and disgraced and then owned. Pain and trauma are a regular part of their work night. The driver honks his horn as he turns the corner. I resist looking up until they’re out of sight.

April reappears from her gig and takes her place on the sidewalk next to me. The other girls must be off on long jobs somewhere, because it’s still just us. I want to talk to her about what happened. I want to be comforted, but she is still vacant. All she does it glance back at Neon’s guy, and stands there. It sickens me how much damage they’ve done to her.

What’s more unacceptable is the way Neon’s men are monitoring us. We’re so closely watched, we couldn’t openly talk to each other if we wanted to. What does the security detail think we’re going to do, try and stage some sort of attack on them? We’re barely lucid, and are unarmed. If only Jason or the FBI team were there when they were supposed to be. If only they had taken action and too April when I first pointed her out, neither of us would be here. I wouldn’t have to go through this.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Almost every man I put my trust in has let me down, from the moment I was first attacked, right up to the present. I couldn’t give my trust easily, but even the little trust I did offer was trampled. And when I needed help with April, Blake lied to me. Then it turned out Jason just wanted to use us for bait. Now I’m on the verge of selling my body while trying to escape April’s uncle, a family member who we were both meant to trust! What a nightmare. I have no reason in the world to expect help at this stage.

Blake

The IA interview still plays on my mind, but I push it away. There’s no time for it when my girl is out there missing. The hands-free unit chimes again. I’m expecting it to be Ryan, but it’s Brenda.

“Hi sis,” I answer. “Is everything okay with George?”

“George is fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Where are you? How was the interview?”

“It was just as I expected, Brenda. They’re gunning for me. Luckily, my union rep turned up and shut down the interview before it got too intense. IA actually suggested in not so many words that I may have had something to do with Carrie’s disappearance.”

“Oh Blake. I’m so sorry. That’s just wrong.”

“Yup.”

“When do you have to go back?”

“Probably a week from now. The union will notify me.”

“Good. So where are you?”

“Jersey. Following Jessup.”

“You’re what? Blake, you can’t be doing this. You’re suspended!”

“I think he knows where Carrie is. I’ll find out soon.”

“But if something happens, you have no backup at all.”

I hear the sob catch in her throat and try to calm her down. “Look sis, it’s okay. I’m watching and waiting. It’s only surveillance. When I know more, I’ll call in for help. I won’t engage. And Ryan is standing by. Look. I’m following a hunch. I love her, Bren. I can’t not do this.”

She’s silent for a while, and then says, “Okay Blake. Do what you have to do. Please be careful and get your butt back here in one piece. I’ve got something really important I need to talk about.”

“I will,” I say.

My interest is peaked. It’s the second time she’s mentioned something big. I almost prompt her to telling me over the phone, but now is not the time. First I need to find out where Jessup Lee is going.

It started to rain just as I was coming off the bridge. I lost Jessup’s limo more than once on the way here, but somehow, I managed to follow him right to the heart of the same dirty, skanky street corner that Neon uses to display her girls. With every turn in the trip over here, I became more convinced of his guilt. Now, pulling up into the dark street, I can feel the rage bubbling inside of me.

I park up as close as I dare to. For now I need to go undetected. There’s a group of people at the door but I can’t see everyone clearly. By the time I park down the street from the limo, all I see is the back of Jessup’s pinstripe suit as he disappears inside one of Neon’s brothels. This confirms it. Jessup is involved with Neon somehow. That suit and that short frame was unmistakably his.

I sit in my car at the end of the street and I watch. This is not the place for anger or acting impulsively. This could be my only chance to prove they’re working together. As I sit there, a few vehicles pull up ahead and peruse the merchandise, then leave. The two girls stand against the wall, and one ends up dropping her purse in the gutter.

She looks miserable, head in hands and sobbing as she tries to collect everything that’s fallen out of her purse. I decide to drive up and ask if she’s okay. It could be my only way to get details on Carrie if they don’t put her on the street.

I pull in close to the curb and wind down the window. The dim streetlights outline the silhouette of a terribly skinny looking woman in a dress that’s far too short for her. Her body language looks forced, she’s trying to appear sexy but her shoes are too high, nearly tipping her over.

It’s not until she makes her way towards me and I open the window that I realize it’s Carrie!

Oh God, my heart lurches into my mouth. She looks terrible. Ravaged. She doesn’t look anything like she used to. It’s only been a week. What have they done to her?

Carrie

Something in me looks up when the next car pulls up. I decide to give the escape plan another try. If I can just convince them I’m in need of real help, and get them to take me far enough away, I might make it. Then I can find a way to come back for April.

I straighten up and try and look sexy while I wait for the car to come to a stop in front of me. At this point, I’m at a disadvantage. They can see me but I can’t see them at all. The lights are so bright they’re blinding. I must look like a deer in the headlights.

I search the surrounding area. All I see is April looking at her nails. She doesn’t even know I’m here. It’s not her fault, but I still can’t help thinking I’m on my own out here. Sisters can’t even have each other’s backs on the street, because of how drugged we are. If we’re ever going to be rescued, it’s going to have to be me who does the call for help.

Gritting my teeth a little, I approach the car. It’s a sedan. I can’t see the color in the dark. The windows aren’t tinted but I feel a shot of apprehension at the descent of the passenger window. I squint into the car and see the outline of just one guy in the drivers’ seat.

“Hey baby. How you doing?” My voice sounds croaky and anxious, but I force it out. I’m not going to last long if Neon’s guy sees me lose another client.

“Carrie. Honey, it’s me.”

I’m startled by the sound of a familiar voice. It’s Blake. The guy trying to pick me up is Blake! I instinctively step back. I want to run away.

“Get away from me, Blake.” I sound shaky, but after everything I’ve realized about him, there’s no way I’m getting in the car.             

“Carrie, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay now. I’m here to help you.”

The rain starts coming down harder. I wrap my arms around myself and stare through the night at him.

“Just go away, Blake. You can’t be trusted.” I’m crying again as I say it.

The pain is so fresh, everything he has said and done starts coming back to me. I want to lash out, and at the same time I want to run to him. The times we walked together in the park, the way he laughs, the way he treats George, all of it comes back in a split second of memory.

“Get on with it.” I hear the harsh instruction of the security guy behind me. I look back and forth between him and Blake, trying to make my decision.

“Carrie, you need to trust me. I promise, honey. I’ll take you away from this. Just get in the car now,” he orders.

I stand in front of him, in the harsh light of the street and the rain, facing a decision that could mean the end of my torture or the beginning of a lifetime of pain. My head is thumping. I’m dizzy and weak. Something in my heart tells me what to do. I’m shaking with fear but the decision to trust him drowns out the hesitation. I reach down for the handle, open the door and slide into his car.