Chapter 21
Pain exploded behind her eyes before she even opened them. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, her mouth as dry as the Sahara. Worst of all, her neck was on fire.
Then she remembered the jolt. She hadn’t seen what hit her, but it had to be a stun gun of some kind.
With every muscle protesting, Emily pushed herself up and looked around. Bars surrounded her—cold and unforgiving. Getting to her knees, ducking to keep from hitting her head, she gripped the metal, shaking with all her strength. They didn’t budge.
She’d been locked in. Caged like an animal.
Panic slammed into her. Her chest tightened, breath too fast, too shallow. She was going to hyperventilate—unless she stopped it now.
She forced herself to inhale slow and exhale long. In. Out. Again.
Alec had been right. She was in over her head. What had she been thinking?
She was a chef. Not an undercover agent. Not a fighter. Just a woman who’d wanted to help put an end to evil—and failed.
Jace had been shot. She’d been taken. And she hadn’t saved any of the victims—including the one locked in the cage across from her.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”
The girl stirred. Familiar dark springy curls bounced as she rolled to face her.
“Gaby?” Emily gasped.
Her eyes opened then widened. “Emily?”
They spoke in whispers, voices hoarse and raw.
“What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are, I’m guessing. Trying to shut these pigs down.” Her eyes flicked anxiously toward the doorway. “I’m also looking for my sister.”
Emily’s blood ran cold. “No.”
“She worked for Regina for a few weeks then she disappeared. The police barely looked.” Bitterness roughened her tone. “I made finding her my full-time job.”
Gaby’s situation echoed hers in painful ways. “How did you end up at Devil’s Pointe?”
“Everything pointed to Regina as a recruiter. She had the best of both worlds—a continuous supply of college girls needing good-paying work, and a club full of submissive women. I couldn’t get in the door at Gold Coast, so I joined the club to get proof—something concrete that the right people would pay attention to. ”
Emily frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know everyone, Gaby, but I know Alec. He trusts and respects Devil. He’d know if something that serious was happening under his own roof. But you’re on the right track with Regina and Gold Coast. Benny was at the mansion tonight. He’s your recruiter.”
“The sous chef?” Gaby sat back on her heels in surprise.
“Yeah. How he got in with the New York Mafia is anyone’s guess.”
“What?” she exclaimed.
Emily’s eyes shot to the door as she shushed her. When no one appeared, she continued quietly, “Enzo Denali. Italian, diamond stud in his ear, a hissing lisp. He’s the boss.”
“You’ve been here a month and got all that?”
“No. I got that by working with Devil and his team of PIs. I’m telling you straight, Gaby. You can trust them.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, still skeptical.
“You don’t have to. Alec and the guys will be here soon, and you can see for yourself.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Emily gathered her hair, revealing her earrings. “Diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. GPS cubic zirconia is.”
“Smart,” she breathed, clearly impressed.
As Gaby looked around, Emily did too and didn’t like what she saw. Metal walls. Concrete floors. A few grimy windows near the high ceiling. They’d need a ladder to reach them.
“Where do you think we are?”
“Benny mentioned a warehouse,” Emily said.
Gaby fished around in her curls and withdrew a bobby pin. “While we wait for the cavalry, I’m going to look around.”
In seconds, the lock clicked and the door to her cage swung open.
“Wow. That was impressive,” Emily observed, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Do they teach lock picking at the U?”
“Nope. In my old neighborhood,” she said, crawling out and standing to stretch.
“Don’t even think about leaving me here,” she warned. “I can help you snoop or be a lookout or something.”
The door to her cage popped open just as quickly. Barefoot, bruised, and filled with a surge of adrenaline, they crept toward the door past other groggy, just-awakening girls in other cages—at least a dozen of them.
“Hey! What about us?” one called in desperation.
“We’ll bring help,” Emily said. “Promise.”
The door was unlocked—stupidly. Maybe her luck was turning.
“I guess the rat bastards didn’t plan on escapees from their dog cages,” Gaby stated, as if reading her mind.
They moved down a wide corridor. The air was thick with a sharp, pungent odor—bleach, oil, something metallic. It clung to Emily’s throat. The hum of machinery vibrated through the walls.
They found the control room. A narrow window revealed a lone tech guy inside—laptop open, camera on, monitors showing a makeshift stage being assembled, Enzo supervising.
“What are they doing?” Gaby whispered.
“Getting ready to sell us at auction,” Emily replied.
“Pigs,” she spat. “Before the bidding starts, I need to see what’s on that laptop. There might be something about my sister. We need a diversion to get rid of that guy.”
They needed more than a diversion. They needed to take him out.
Emily scanned the hallway. She considered the wall-mounted fire extinguisher, but it might be too heavy and unwieldy. Farther down the hall was a tarp-covered cart. She hurried to it.
Bingo! There were tools—wrenches and hammers. But did she want to actually kill him? Could she?
She grabbed a long-barreled metal flashlight and weighed it in her hand. She also took a few practice swings.
Perfect.
“Hurry,” Gaby urged.
Emily closed the distance in a heartbeat. “You get him through the door, and I’ll knock him out.”
“We think the same way. I knew I liked you for a reason,” her coconspirator said with a quiet smile. With a hand on the doorknob, she glanced back, mouthing, Ready?
After flattening herself against the wall, weapon raised, heart thudding in her ears, Emily nodded.
The hinges squeaked as Gaby pushed the door open. Her eyes went wide—a pure oh-shit moment. “Uh-oh,” she exclaimed then spun and bolted in the opposite direction.
“Hey!” the guy shouted. “Get back here.”
His footsteps pounded closer. Emily held her breath. The second he cleared the doorway and turned, she struck. The flashlight’s wide metal head connected with a sickening thunk against his skull. He staggered two steps then dropped like a stone.
Gaby skidded to a halt beside her. They both stared down at the man—mid-twenties, glasses askew, limbs splayed, still breathing.
“Damn, girl,” she said in awe. “You’re a legit badass.”
The image of Alec in the gym, telling her to come at him, flashed through Emily’s mind. “No,” she replied. “But I’ve been taking lessons from one.”
“Either way. Remind me to never piss you off.”
Emily slid her hands under his shoulders. “Help me. He’s heavier than he looks.”
Together, they dragged him inside the control room and dumped him in a corner.
Gaby got to work, fingers flying over the keys.
Emily stood guard, eyes darting between the hallway and the unconscious man.
Her body betrayed her—every nerve screaming from pain and the entire situation—but she stayed upright and sharp.
“There’s a bunch of files, but they’re password protected,” she said, clicking rapidly. “I’m emailing them to myself to figure out later.”
Voices echoed in the hall.
Emily’s breath caught. “Hurry. Someone’s coming.”
“Just another minute.”
The tech guy groaned.
Emily spun. “Crap! He’s waking up!”
She searched the floor for the flashlight, dreading having to hit him again. But if it came down to them or him, she’d do it—gladly.
“Well, well. Two naughty birds have escaped their cages.”
Emily yelped and spun as Gaby swiveled.
Enzo stood just inside the door, Benny behind him.
Bolting from the chair, Gaby sprinted for the exit. It wasn’t well-thought-out—the odds of getting by the two of them slim to none. Benny easily caught her mid-step and slammed her against the wall.
Enzo came for Emily, a knife flashing. She couldn’t just stand there and tried the same unsuccessful plan, scrambling for the door. His arm banded around her waist, and he lifted her off the floor.
“You know something, little spy,” he lisped in her ear. “You’ve turned into a real pain in the ass.” She kicked and twisted, clawing at his arm. “Be still,” he barked. “Unless you want me to cut you.”
Emily went rigid, as cold steel kissed her throat. It slid slowly downward, slicing through her top and bra like butter.
“Please, don’t,” she whispered, terrified. Hating that he’d made her beg. Hating him.
He spread the sides with his blade, dragging the flat of it across one nipple. “Auction items don’t wear clothes. Don’t worry, I won’t cut you. Bloody merchandise doesn’t sell well. We’ll leave all that up to your new owner.”
All those drills with Alec. All those hours. Useless now. She was too terrified to move.
Enzo’s lips brushed her cheek. His breath reeked of onions, making her gag. “Didn’t I say you’d regret breathing?”
They didn’t spare the injured guy a glance. Instead, Enzo and Benny dragged them—Emily half naked at knifepoint, Gaby by the hair—through several hallways, around too many turns to count, until they reached the cavernous main warehouse.
Then they shoved them under the lights on the makeshift stage.
The auction was about to begin.