Chapter 12
SABLE
I kept my eyes on the worn linoleum floor so I didn't glare at the thug who cornered me in the restroom and forced me to climb out the window to the other thugs that waited outside. So far I'd gone along with them. The guys had to notice I'd disappeared, right?
The earring tracker was still in place. The necklace too. So far, I'd resisted the urge to touch them.
The fact none of the thugs took them suggested this wasn't a robbery. That is to say, they didn't want my jewelry. Nor had they hurt me. They'd strongly suggested it was in my best interest to go along with them, and they'd shown me they were all armed.
Also, they were twice my size. I knew when fighting back wasn't an option. My life was a masterclass in that.
They'd bundled me into the back of a car, squashed between two of them, and drove me here. Gestured for me to stand in the corner, on the other side of the tattoo chairs, and wait. We didn't have to wait long.
I'd heard the guys' voices outside before the door opened and they were shown inside like they were here for a chat, maybe a couple of drinks. No one was shoved, pushed or thrown. The whole thing was far too civilized.
That wouldn't last if the expression on Woody's face was an indication. He looked like he was about to start throwing hands. For now, he kept them by his sides, curled into fists. His glare on everyone, including Forrest and Leif, who walked in front of him.
They all glanced at me, acknowledging my presence, but containing any relief at seeing me standing there alive. They might as well have acknowledged the posters on the walls.
Displaying a variety of artists' designs, suggestions for tattoos in a multitude of sizes, any other time I would have taken a moment to appreciate them. Maybe consider getting one or two.
I dropped my eyes back to the linoleum floor, especially worn around the base of the chairs. Whatever was going on here, I needed to stay in character. Meek. Half-broken at best.
"Judge Cross." The senator strode out of a doorway at the back of the tattoo parlor, as if this was a country club. He looked out of place here in his dark suit. For all I knew, he had a whole sleeve of tattoos. Or a purple unicorn on his left ass cheek.
I couldn't picture it to be honest. He was the sort of man who'd have a scar repaired if he could. A tattoo would sully his image. An image that would be destroyed if people knew he was here and what he was getting up to.
No, he wasn't the unicorn tattoo-getting type.
"Senator," Forrest said smoothly no hint of surprise on his face. Perhaps this was what he'd expected. He knew the man well enough to anticipate him. After all, the senator hadn't made any attempt to hide who he was back at the Halloran.
"This is interesting." The senator's gaze swept across them and over to me.
"Is it?" Forrest asked. "You'll have to enlighten me as to why."
I made a note never to play poker with him. He was giving away nothing. On the other hand, a game of strip poker could be fun.
Woody opened his mouth. When Leif elbowed him in the side, he snapped it closed again. We all knew he was about to say something like 'this is fucking bullshit.' He wasn't wrong. This was fucking bullshit.
"I was under the impression Miss Kohl was only in your company before she was added to the collection of lots," the senator said, as if I was an antique chair added to the auction at the last minute.
I'd like to high-five him with an antique chair. In the face. The kind with really thick, solid legs. That would do some damage. Maybe even kill him.
What was wrong with me that I was thinking that? Oh, right. He was taking part in selling women. He'd get what he deserved.
I made sure to look surprised and horrified when he glanced in my direction. I wasn't supposed to know what Forrest intended.
Forrest, of course, was unruffled.
"That's right, she was," he said. "And yet, here she is."
"Yes, here she is," the senator said. "And here you are. I'm curious as to why you followed her."
"I'm curious as to why I needed to," Forrest replied.
Completely unmoved apart from a raised eyebrow.
He could have been listening to someone in his courtroom explain why they were going a couple of miles over the speed limit.
Those weren't the cases that went through his court, but that was the impression he gave.
"I made an early bid," the senator said. "One no one else could match. The money should have been deposited in your chosen account already." He said the words carefully, meaningfully.
When money changed hands in a situation like this, it wasn't done via regular channels. No bank checks or IOUs.
No, this would be a secret bank account, offshore, away from the authorities. The fact Forrest had an account like that made my skin crawl. Of course he would though, it was part of his persona. He was their equal, as far as they knew. A fellow predator.
Until he became the hunter and they became the prey. That was hotter than it should be. What was wrong with me that my clit throbbed to think of him tracking down the senator and slicing open his throat?
Nothing, I decided. Nothing was wrong with me. I wanted justice for myself and women like me.
As if he was inconvenienced and untrusting, Forrest pulled out his phone. He slowly tapped at the screen. Taking his time.
His other eyebrow rose. "That is a healthy sum of money, but I can't accept."
"Of course you can," the senator said scathingly. "The deal is done. Money has changed hands. So has Miss Kohl."
After a beat, he smiled and added, "Can I offer you some refreshments? The back of this establishment is much more…appropriate than the front." He smirked like he wouldn't be seen dead with a tattoo, not even a purple unicorn.
"This isn't protocol," Forrest said firmly. "It isn't how things are done."
"Rules are meant to be broken," the senator said smoothly. He turned his face to look at me like I was a plate of truffles waiting to be devoured. "And so are women like this."
Leif grabbed Woody before he lunged at the senator. All four of his thugs had their guns out, pointing at them, ready to use them if they tried anything.
"What I don't understand," the senator said, looking me up and down like I was a prized marble statue, "is what's so special about her? Why would you take the time to follow her here, then decline the payment?"
"She's my asset," Forrest said. He tucked his phone away. "Perhaps I could get more for her than your offer." He accentuated the word, making it clear it wasn't accepted. It wasn't a done deal.
"Come on now," the senator said. "We both know my payment is generous. Anyone would accept it graciously and walk away."
"I'm not anyone," Forrest pointed out. "Perhaps this is about more than her." He strode toward us, unhurried. "Perhaps she was intended for someone else. A gift of sorts."
If I didn't know him, his tone would have chilled me. Cold. Methodical. As if he'd done this a million times before and never regretted a moment of it. Never gave the woman a second thought.
I could attribute the same to the senator. This was clearly not his first rodeo. How many women had he done this to? How many had he broken?
I remembered the guys telling me about the phone call Forrest received while I was with Savannah. What had the caller said? Pay attention to everything? Was this what he was talking about? That we should keep an eye on the senator?
We were pawns on a chessboard. Someone was out there pulling the strings. Did they want us to come here so we could take care of this man and his associates. Why us and not whoever called?
"Why are we wasting time?" Leif complained. He glanced at me, disdainful. Annoyed at my continued existence. His gaze slid away like I was nothing. Less than nothing.
"Let her go and let's get to the auction. We're missing the fun."
The fun? They could be auctioning Savannah off as we spoke. While we stood here and talked, she could be sold to the highest bidder. She could be taken who knew where. I may never see her again.
"Yes, why are you wasting time?" I found myself saying. "I'm guessing there's no refunds."
I wanted to be sick at the triumphant, greasy expression on the senator's face.
"You're correct, there are no refunds."
"Except under particular circumstances," Forrest said. "Somebody removing an item from the auction before it begins would be considered unusual."
"Unusual but not unheard of," the senator said. "It seems to me this works out well for everyone. I'm sure you'll have no trouble coming up with another 'special gift.'" Yes, he used air quotes when he spoke.
He gestured toward the door. "There's a city full of women out there. I can give you a few names. The girlfriend of your sons, Harlow St. James. She'd make an interesting lot."
Forrest's cheek twitched with a hint of anger. If the senator was trying to score points, he'd managed a direct hit. Forrest was quietly protective of his sons. As he should be. They seemed like good men.
Leif yawned dramatically. "Can we get out of here now?"
"Mr. Larsen is wise," the senator said. "Perhaps I should hire you to re-decorate one of my homes."
"I'd love to," Leif said, almost sincere. "Give me a call on Monday morning. We'll see what we can arrange."
"I'll have my assistant call you," the senator said.
Of course he wouldn't deign to make his own phone calls.
"I'm staying," Woody said.
The senator regarded him. "Woodrow Taylor-Francis. Wolfgang's son. Very interesting." He stroked his neat beard. "What interest would you have for your former stepmother?" He drew out the last couple of words, emphasizing them while looking amused.
"Bitch killed my father," Woody snarled. "I want to watch her suffer. I've tried to kill her a couple of times already. It didn't stick." He gave me a nasty smile. "This will be so much fucking better."
Chill crept up my spine like cold fingers. I thought we were past that. We were past that, weren't we? I couldn't tell. His eyes were cold. Calculating.
"Normally I don't like an audience but I'll make an exception," the senator said. "It seems to me you'll get closure from taking part."
His gaze slid over to me, anticipation in his eyes. Desire, not sexual, predatory like he wanted to strip the skin off my bones, tear me to shreds. Leave me so broken I had no fight left in me. Then he'd toss me away without a thought.
I might throw up the champagne on his shoes. I swallowed down the reflex. If I did that I'd regret it. He'd make sure of that.
"Yeah, I will," Woody said with a grunt. "She's going to hate the day she was born."
Forrest pressed his mouth together in a brief moment of irritation before finally nodding. "It looks like we have a deal." He actually offered his hand to the senator. They shook before he and Leif headed toward the door.
"Finally," Leif said, without looking back. "We can get back to the real fun. Remind me never to let you drag me into anything like this again." He sounded cheerful as he stepped out the door. Forrest right behind him.
The door closed with a tinkle of bells and a light final thud.
"Let's take this party somewhere more private," the senator said. He nodded to his thugs who surrounded me, guiding me out the back door, past an intimate lounge at direct odds with the tattoo parlor, out toward a waiting car.