Sinners and Saints (2 page)

Chapter 3

All was quiet i
n the limo. Mr. Buchanan was nowhere to be found, as he never entered the car. Vylette sat cramped against the door due to the fact that none of the girls wanted to be very far apart. Although the metal door handle dug painfully into her hip she was thankful the ropes were removed from her wrists which now harbored angry burn marks that were stinging bracelets of pain looking like pink and bloody cuffs just above her hands.

Her adrenaline sl
owly wore off letting her feel just how much of a beating she had actually taken. Breathing was both a luxury and a curse. The ability to do so kept her alive and alert, but the bruised muscles and what felt like a cracked rib were like shards of glass shredding her lungs every time she drew breath.

The cool feel of leather seats was almost comforting to her heated skin. She looked around the car and her hopes of escape faded with each mile they traveled. The doors were somehow locked from the outside disc
ouraging all attempts to jump, and since the windows were tinted and stuck in place, she couldn't tell where there were headed or guess where they might end up.

After what seemed like forever she felt the limo come to a stop. A few moments later, Mr. Buch
anan’s face appeared when he opened the door.

“
Time to get out! No funny business or I will have no choice, but use force. Now, I want you to follow my guard into the building.”

He stepped aside and waved them out. She looked at the man and his outstretch
ed hand, her mind raced for ways to escape, but she seemed to only have the need to escape and no ideas of how to do so. Her brain on overload, going so many directions at once, she couldn't make sense enough to form a plan.

“
Let's go!”

Swallowing the fea
r lodged in her throat, she gingerly climbed out of the limo and began to follow the head guard as he made his way through the dark alley and into a nearby door of a large warehouse. As she followed him through the door she was surprised to see that even though outside it looked like an abandoned warehouse, inside, just like the last place she was, it looked elegant and expensively decorated. She stood in a small dimly lit foyer, with a door at each side of the small space. A long wooden polished table sat nestled against the wall, with a large bouquet of flowers on one end, a huge mirror centered hanging on the wall and a crystal vase held a chilled bottle of wine on the opposite end. The guard motioned the girls that shuffled in behind her to sit on the bench that lined the inside wall. Gently grabbing her arm the guard pulled her closer to the table.

When she stood where he wanted, he opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like a first aid kit. He opened it a
nd her eyes bulged when she saw the different sized needles lined in one side and small vials of clear liquid in the other. She took a step back.

“
I am not a junkie.”

“
I know. I am going to draw blood, not shoot you up.”

He was good to his word, for now. He pulled
out a clean needle and did just as he said he would. She tensed up a bit when he pressed the ball of cotton to the puncture mark on her arm and wrapped it so it would stay in place. She couldn't help but watch him. It was better than watching the depressed and scared faces of the other girls.

The guard pulled out more equipment and covered the top of the table.

“Now I am going to take your prints. Give me your hands please.”

Her mind now in a numb fog, she did as instructed. It went on for another few minutes. He poked and prodded at her
wounds, sometimes applying ointment and making notes on others. She twisted and turned as he continued his inspection of her injuries.

“
Do you want me to give you anything for the pain? None of these injuries are life threatening, but you are going to hurt like hell by morning.”

She shook her head and pleaded with tears in her eyes. “
Please, don't make me a junkie.”

“
No. you misunderstand. You don't have to take anything. If you would like I can give you a mild pain reliever. Nothing too strong.”

“
No, thank you.”

“
Fair enough.”

She turned too quickly and fell into the guard when a woman came bustling through the one of the side doors.

“Oh my, Mr. Buchanan did well. We have a huge lot today. Tell him, I said well done.”

The guard handed her off to the woma
n and she was in too much pain to protest.

“
This is Miss Camealle, she will handle you from here. If you change your mind about the pain meds, my name is Lewis, just ask for me and I will see what I can do.”

She shook her head
, but said nothing as Miss Camealle ushered her through the door and into the arms of another woman.

“
Miss Travine, she has been injured. Nothing major, but she will need tending too. Please escort her to a room.”

Again, she couldn't believe her eyes, on the other side of the door, i
t looked like a spa retreat rather than a prison for potential prostitutes. They stood inside a large opening room full of fancy furniture with glass and diamond chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Velvet red carpet covered the floor and contrasted with the pure white banister winding up through the lower level to floors above. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. This place looked like a lavish castle.

“
Come, dear, I will show you to your room.”

Cradling the burning agony engulfing her ribcage, she slowly
followed the spunky red head who was dressed like a real estate agent up the stairs. She had the sweetest smile and a soft voice. The woman held her close and helped her make it to the upper level and into the first room past the stair rail.

“
Here, dear, this will be your new room.”

She followed along as she was led in and directed to the large canopy bed, draped in white silk, in the center of the room. The walls were done in a snow white and silver raised fabric, the floor offered the softest silver carpe
t her feet had ever touched. Tall wide silver satin curtains covered what she guessed were windows. Mrs. Travine spoke as she moved about the room gathering this and that. Her first order of business was walking to the antique Armour and pulling out a set of silk pajamas.

“
All the clothes in here and in the closet are for you to wear whilst you are here. We have just about any kind of style you might like from jeans to suits. You will find Pj's and under things inside this bureau. Jeans, shirts, dresses and such in the closet. Through the door next to your bed is the bathing room, it is stocked with toiletries, towels and the like for all your hygiene needs. Next to the bed in the nightstands you will find books, pens and whatnot for reading and writing.”

T
he woman wore a sweet smile when she turned back.

“
You will be summoned in the morning and you will need to be dressed, clean and ready for the day. There is an alarm clock on the far stand with a working alarm, if you are able to sleep, please set and an alarm. We will begin at eight a.m. sharp.”

Sh
e reached out and grabbed Mrs. Travine's arm stopping her from leaving. Biting back tears, “What will we begin?”

Mrs. Travine smiled even sweeter, “
A photo-shoot. Please be sure to wear something to cover up all that bruising and feel free to use the large sunk-in tub in the bathing room. It has message jets.”

The woman pivoted and was gone. A sm
all click on the door announced, despite the lavish surroundings, she was a prisoner none the less.

Now what?

Chapter
4

She stood in the center of the room staring at the closed and locked door, her mind full of unhelpful white noise. The throbbing in her ribs tickled like a bomb and felt as if it might explode. Exhaling carefully, she grabbed the pj’s and walked to the bathroom.

Maybe I can wash away the feel of their grubby hands...not to mention all this blood
…my blood, unfortunately.

The bathing room was just as big as the outer room. Tall cabinets lined the wall on one side while a long counter ran the length
of the other. Both walls lead to an enormous deep granite tub. Two fluffy purple towels were draped over the side just above the small step to get inside.

After shutting and locking the door, she shimmied out of her jeans and shirt and headed for the tub, dro
pping the pj's on the counter as she went. Off to the left, a small divider she first mistook as a cabinet was actually a nook where the toilet stood nicely hidden from view.

Well if nothing else, no one can walk in and see me doing my business...unless t
here are cameras.

That thought had her feverishly looking around for mechanical peeping toms.

Please don't let there be cameras.

Finding nothing that resembled a visual intrusion she sat on the corner of the tub and turned the silver handles. Crystal blue
water ran like a raging water fall, and filled the porcelain and granite pool. Soon the steam swam into the air circling her as it engulfed the room. Carefully, she slipped out of her soiled under clothes and stepped into a liquid comforter. The heat felt good against her bruised and aching skin, soothing the trauma if only for a moment. Laying back, letting the water cover her up to the neck, she spied the silver button for the jets.

When she pushed the button
, the entire tub erupted in ripples and bubbles. The strong feel of one of the jets hit her square in the center of ribcage ripping a scream from her lungs. Quickly as she could, she adjusted the strength of the jet, it wasn't long before it went from a baseball bat railing against her to soft hands gently moving into a relaxing gesture and she sighed in relief.

That feels better.

On a small caddy in the seal of the large tinted window were soaps and bottles of shampoo. It took a few minutes and attempts, but she finally got into a sitting position and reached for the soap. Holding it as tightly as possible without dropping it she tenderly lathered her body, scrubbing the dried mud and blood from her skin. Gritting her teeth, she worked at cleaning the wounds on her legs and feet.

Last thing I need i
s an infection in my legs. It would definitely hinder me getting the hell out of here first chance I get.

Catching her breath, tears in her eyes, she tried to put her focus on something other than the pain from her movements.

All this royalty castle business isn't going to mask what is really going on or what they really expect out of me. It might work to blind the other girls, but I plan to fight to my death if I have to. I would much rather be dead than to be someone's whore.

Already in so much pain, s
he knew washing her hair was out of the question and wetting it was the best she could do, so it would just have to do.

Using her toes, she pulled the plug on the tub and got out, wrapping herself in the soft fluffy towel. The chill in the air had her skin
marked with bumps and her teeth chattering. As quickly as her wounds would allow, she put on the pajamas hoping for warmth. She opened the door, rushed out and fell into the big fluffy bed, muffling the cries of agony and despair.

Please let me fall asle
ep and awake from this nightmare.

Chapter 5

She awoke to the sound of Miss Travine barging in and jerking the warm blankets from her. Snatching them back, she rolled onto her back and looked up to see an expectant face staring at her.

“It is eight fifteen and you are fifteen minutes late. Did you not set the alarm as I said?”

Rubbing the sleep from her
eyes, she smacked the dryness from her lips and began to move. “Wha-...I...”

The woman before her wore a horrid look on her face.

“What is this?”

Her str
ingy dirty hair knotted in the woman's hand as she continued.

“
Did you not bathe?”

Pain, little sleep and the knowledge of being captive stole what small amount of politeness she had. Jerking her hair from the woman. “
Yes! You try washing with cracked ribs.”

Mrs. Travine's expression changed and she dropped her hair.

“Get dressed and I will be back in a few minutes. All of you are going to the salon downstairs before pictures anyway.”

She stared back in disbelief and couldn't help herself say, “
You have a salon in here too?”

“
Yes dear, we have all that we need to get you girls where we need you to be.”

She screwed up her face. “
What does that mean?”

“
Never you mind. Get dressed. I will be back in a few moments to escort you down.”

With that the woman exited
the room, leaving her chilled despite the warmth of the blankets.

Get you where you need to be? What do they have planned for us?

She got up from the bed, scared of what might happen if she didn't, and dressed in the clothes Miss Travine left laying on the end of the bed.

Apparently this is what I am supposed to wear. Thank God for clean bra and panties.

Although the undergarments, jeans and the silk top covered her nakedness she still felt very vulnerable. She spotted a pair of comfy socks sitting next to the bed and shoved them on her cold feet.

Screw the shoes, I can barely walk on my own two flat feet at the moment. I will fall and break my face if I try and walk
in those heels.

She had just dropped her feet back
on the floor when Miss Travine came back into the room.

“
Come with me, please.”

Quickly
, but carefully, she followed reluctantly behind the woman as they headed down stairs.