Illusion

Chapter 19 Nick

Nick

It’s been a while since I’ve seen the girl face to face but watching her on camera has become my silent obsession. I can’t seem to get enough of her. I play it cool and try to only harass Ethan for updates but find myself dialing her number more than necessary.

Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing her in the flesh again. Her frame has filled out nicely from being on the farm for a couple months. I guess milk really does do a body good.

I’m wiping the sweat from my eyes when movement across the room catches my eye. “No! Absolutely not. Put it outside or take it back where you found it.” Irritation flares when the small orange and white furball starts chewing the laces on my Mason Mariela shoes.

The girl runs over, scoops up the furball, and walks towards me. “My therapist said that having a pet companion can be a good therapy tool for relieving stress and anxiety.”

I grit my teeth and look into those pleading brown eyes. “I can think of plenty of ways to relieve stress and anxiety, but that,” I point at the kitten, “is definitely not one of them. I grew up on a farm and I love animals. But they have their place, and my beach house isn’t one of them.”

“Please, Nick.” She might as well be speaking directly to my cock as my name rolls pleadingly from her soft lips.

My muscles instinctively tense, forcing me to hold my composure while fighting my primal urge to take her to my bedroom and make her get on her knees beg.

“I promise to take care of her, you won’t even know she’s here. ”

“I’ve already picked up a self-scooping litter box, bowls, and food. Oh, and here’s a cute little collar for her!” Emma chimes in from the kitchen, somewhat breaking me from my sexual fantasy.

I glare at Ethan because out of everyone, he should’ve known not to spring this shit on me. “So I’m the only one who didn’t know we were getting a cat, even though I own the house and pay all the bills?”

“Basically, yeah. We all know how you have a tendency to overreact, so we thought it would be best for it to be more of a surprise.” He shrugs.

“You three are un-fucking-believable.” I walk over to the girl—she stiffens when I get close but doesn’t back away.

“I do like having a cute little pussy to play with.” Her breath hitches and she stiffens as I reach over to scratch the top the kitten’s head.

“But that isn’t the kind I want to lick clean.

Keep it out of my things or you’re both gone. ” I give her a sly wink.

Ethan starts laughing but neither one of the girls find any humor in what I said. The girl just swallows hard and heads back towards her room, kitten in tow. Her juicy ass sways deliciously from side to side as she walks away.

I wouldn’t mind sticking my face between those newly well-rounded cheeks. I haven’t wanted to ask Sasha for any favors even though I’m growing tired of my own hand. She just doesn’t do it for me anymore and she’s entirely too clingy as of late.

This girl though, I’m not sure what it is about her, but it’s going to take every bit of my restraint to keep my hands off her—I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She may hate me before this is all over with and it might be for the best.

I shove the wandering thought of how she looks when she comes apart from my mind.

She is my employee—not that it’s ever stopped me, but I plan on letting her go after this and I can’t have her catching any kind of feelings.

Relationships are a no-no, and with her issues, attachment could go either way.

I’m not willing to figure out which one it is.

My phone rings—it’s Vade. “Yeah,” I answer.

“Turn on the news, dickhead. The body Dr. Bennett staged has been found. They’re running the story that the remains of the missing girl from Whiskey Rivers have been found.”

I turn the TV on to hear the story. Nobody gives a shit about a missing girl from Whiskey Rivers, but it was important that the story be run publicly so anyone in connection with her father that might want her for an old debt would believe her to be dead and stop looking for her.

“Get down to the warehouse as soon as you can. You’re going to have to see this to believe it,” Vade says.

I point towards the girl’s room and the TV. Ethan flawlessly reads my cues and goes to get her.

“What is it? You finally learned to write your name with crayons and want to show me the macaroni art you made in Sunday school?” I head to my room, needing a shower before I go anywhere.

“I made an exact replica of my dick and signed it for you, I thought you might want to hang it on your refrigerator. Next week, I’m going to fingerpaint your secretary’s stink star and stamp it on your desk,” Vade retorts.

“Can I watch?” Sasha wouldn’t mind. She loves attention too much.

“If you’re a good boy and get here in the next hour, I’ll consider it.”

He can have Sasha. I’m done with her.

“See you shortly.” I click the phone off and head for the shower. I thought I would take the day off and go over the plan for the next several weeks with the girl, but it’ll have to wait until later.

Ethan and the girl are on the back porch playing with the kitten when I get ready to leave. I watch them for a few minutes before I open the door. It’s cute watching her play with the string. The kitten is kind of adorable too.

I don’t want a cat in the house, but I’m outnumbered. It’s temporary, when she leaves—the cat leaves.

Thanks to a huge classic car event going on this week, it takes me twice as long as usual to drive the ten miles to my warehouse. It’s one of my favorite and least favorite weeks at the same time.

As a big car enthusiast, I love seeing the hot rods from all over the country, but I hate the traffic and it will get worse as next weekend approaches.

“What’s so urgent that I had to come right now?

I planned on spending the afternoon harassing my hot new employee and now I have to look at your ugly ass.

This better be good.” I walk towards Vade who meets me inside the front door of the warehouse.

We never meet outside, all conversations and interaction happen beyond the doors—away from any potential prying eyes.

“I’ve got a hostage held in the cellar that might be of particular interest to you.” He gives me a curious look, which in turn spikes my own curiosity. I follow him through the labyrinth of tunnels downstairs to our interrogation room.

Vade smirks as the surprise registers on my face when the lights turn on. A small-framed woman sits in the middle of the room, strapped to a chair with her hands tied behind her back. Her head is slumped forward; she’s still knocked out from whatever he’s given her.

“Where did you pick her up at and more importantly, why was it necessary?” I look from Vade to the woman.

It’s the mother of the boy I let go to prison a few months ago for getting my shipment of guns taken down by the Coast Guard. I figured last time I encountered this woman wouldn’t be the last, but I never expected this.

“Marcus left on a delivery to Houston this morning. When he stopped to get fuel, he noticed her at the gas station with a male in the passenger seat and three drugged-out young girls in the back.” I look at him wide-eyed. Seems as if Mommy Dearest isn’t the innocent matron I thought she was.

“What about the guy that was with her?” I’d like to have a little talk with him—man to man.

“He ran. Marcus decided bringing her in and rescuing the girls was more important than running after him.”

Bummer. I’ll have to get Ethan to hack into the gas stations security feed asap.

“Where are the girls?” I walk towards the woman in the center of the room and push her hair to the side, examining her face. She’s already got a busted lip and bruises around her wrist. Looks like she tried to put up a fight.

A fight she would never win against Marcus. He’s one of my best-trained guys. Guy used to be a marine and still works out every day like he’s in basic training. Him and Lucas have regular sparring matches for shits and giggles.

“Dr. Bennett took them to the safe house for medical care.” Vade stands with his feet wide and arms crossed, not bothering to hide his concern.

He’s my brother from another mother, and lives a life of crime, but he’s by no means a hardened criminal. I take care of the violent side of things.

“Do you think they would be willing to give us any information on what happened?” He tried to make contact with the last group of girls our team rescued but they all refused to talk.

“The nurses are going to try to gather information, but they won’t push the girls to talk until they are ready. The only thing we know right now is they have no recollection of recent events. Maybe when the drugs wear off they will have some memory.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. How much longer until she wakes up?”

“Any time now. He only gave her half a dose of ketamine.” He shrugs.

As if cued, she lets out a low moan. “Good morning, sunshine.” I grip her chin hard and force her to look at me.

I won’t hit her, but I will rough her up.

I have someone I can call if we need to resort to violence on a woman.

Her eyes widen and recognition flashes in her eyes.

“You do remember me! I’m so flattered.” My other hand pats over my chest where my cold, emotionless heart beats.

“Please…” Her voice is barely a whisper. Her eyes droop and fight to stay open—the drugs still having a profound effect on her. “I didn’t…” Her eyes close.

“You didn’t what?” I shake her head forcefully, still gripping her chin.

“My son…” she takes a deep breath, “he…prison…I have no money.” She struggles to get her words out.

“So you thought trafficking women was a good way to make some quick cash?” I grind my teeth and clench my other rage-filled fist.

“She made me…made me do it,” she breathes while fading out again.

“Look at me!” I snap loudly. “Who made you do it?” My temper flares even more. “Just fucking tell me.”

“I’m sick…I need a doctor, but I have no money. She promised me money,” she wheezes, beads of sweat dripping down her face.

“Who the fuck is she?” I growl and grip her by the back of her head, forcing her to look up at me since she can’t seem to hold her head up. A faint smell of copper lingers on the shallow breaths coming from her open mouth.

“Madam La…” Her eyes drift shut so I shake her again. “LaBell.” Her whole body trembles as if she is chilled—her skin is cold. Which is strange because it’s at least eighty degrees in here.

“Where is she? Tell me or you’re going to suffer the same fate as your son! Last I heard, he’ll be a vegetable for the rest of his life! You don’t want that do you?”

No answer. My patience is growing thin.

“TELL ME! WHO AND WHERE IS MADAM LABELL?” My voice echoes against the walls of the cellar.

She opens her mouth to say something but instead coughs hard, spraying a large amount of warm blood in my face, the copper tang assaulting my nostrils. I let her hair go and her head bobs as I back away. She coughs out several more mouthfuls of blood before going still. She’s stopped breathing.

I walk over and press my fingers against her carotid artery. “Fucking bitch is dead.” I yell as if Vade couldn’t figure it out on his own. Son of a fucking bitch.

Between the cameras and spies we’ve put in the Lucky Rabbit, we haven’t had any luck with leads. Either whoever is running this show is on to us and lying low or they’ve changed locations, which criminals often do. Too much activity in one area eventually draws unwanted attention.

We were so close to finally getting some answers and she had to go and fucking die on us. I turn and crash my fist into the table we keep our torture tools on, splintering it to pieces.

“Check her pockets,” I bark at Vade as I use my handkerchief to wipe her blood from my face.

“Well lookie lookie who’s got a cookie.” He holds up a book of matches. Sure enough, they’re from The Lucky Rabbit. “Two books of matches and two men disappearing inside that shithole casino are not a coincidence.”

Our street team hasn’t had any luck finding any leads within The Lucky Rabbit or Cottontails. With such a high-volume area it’s always possible they’re still running the trafficking operation through there undetected, so I still think we need to put an undercover female in there.

As much as I hate to admit it, naked, beautiful women have a way with getting information out of people. The girl stands the best shot at getting insider information directly from the girls working inside The Lucky Rabbit and/or the patrons who may visit there that are a part of this operation.

“I know. I’ll have the girl ready to go undercover as soon as possible. See if you can get one of the rescued girls to talk.”

He nods.

I pick up my phone and make a call I’ve been dreading—she answers on the first ring. “I need a favor.”