Chapter 20
SABLE
Silas and Conrad directed me into the back of another car that sat outside the front of the building. The vehicle was as dark and tinted as the one we'd taken up from Saltgrave, but wasn't the same make, model or even age.
This one smelled new. The interior clean, as if the vehicle was just picked up from the car dealer. Was the other one being scrubbed to get rid of the evidence I was in there? I supposed that was possible, but it wouldn't matter unless somebody was actually looking
Silas drove while Conrad sat in the back with me, making no attempt to hide the fact he had a gun.
Me too, buddy, I thought. They hadn't checked me for one. Presumably touching the merchandise was off the table. Or they were that certain I was helpless.
I could shoot them both at the next traffic light and run, but then what? As soon as my father found out, he'd have my guys killed.
That would have to be plan B. Now if I could just come up with plan A that would be great.
I drummed my fingers on my thigh and watched the city roll by.
Skyscrapers and familiar neighborhoods. People dressed in suits passing a group with a boho vibe. Restaurants selling every cuisine you could imagine. It was like the whole world gathered here in one city, celebrating being themselves. Living what I hoped were their best lives.
And me? This was not what I'd call my best life. This was the exact opposite.
"Where are we going?" I asked, ninety-nine percent sure they wouldn't tell me, or even acknowledge the question.
Conrad glanced at me but away again. Okay, I was wrong about him acknowledging it, but right about him not giving an answer.
"I hope you know where we're going," I said, directing that to Silas. "I have a feeling you'd be in trouble if you get us lost." My father and men like him didn't like to be kept waiting. Time was, after all, money.
"I'm not going to get us lost," Silas said over his shoulder. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
Didn't you just love it when people decide to take the condescending route? Ugh, It was the worst. Okay, second worst, because at least he wasn't mansplaining.
Yet.
"I am worried," I said. "The city is a big place. Have you ever been lost here? I have. I got off at the wrong station. I didn't realize it until I got up onto the street. I looked around but nothing was familiar. It was scary, you know?" I was babbling again, but it was a true story.
Surprisingly, neither of them responded, asking me to continue. I continued anyway.
"I went back down to the subway and got back on the train. I ended up at the right spot the second time, so I wasn't lost for too long. Still, we can't drive the car down to the subway and get on a train, can we now?" I laughed.
"Quiet," Conrad snapped.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I talk a lot when I'm nervous. You two are making me very nervous."
"You sure you don't want to drive?" Silas asked.
"No, thank you," I replied as if he was addressing the question to me. "I don't actually have a license." I never needed one before. Not when trains, buses, and ride shares were a thing.
"If you drive, I can shut up that mouth of hers,” Silas said, rudely ignoring me.
"You're not going to fucking touch her," Conrad said.
"Finally." I drew the word out. "Someone with some common sense around here.
I was starting to think neither of you guys had it.
No offense or anything, but this whole kidnapping me and locking me in a room, then taking me somewhere and not telling me where we're going?
It's not what I'd call nice. Would you? What would your mothers say?
I bet they'd click their tongues and shake their fingers at you. "
My mother would have clicked her tongue at me and told me to shut up. Silently, of course, with a long look before she turned away. She was good at conveying her disapproval without saying a thing. I should work on that myself.
"Do your mothers even know what you get up to?" I asked. "See, Silas, if you were a bodyguard, you could tell her that. I bet anything she'd be super proud of you." That would be a lot easier to swallow than her son being a hired thug.
"Imagine it." I raised my voice to a higher pitch.
"'My son is the bodyguard of the biggest rockstar in the entire world.
He keeps her safe. One time he even took a bullet for her.
He's got a scar on his shoulder. You should see it, he impresses all the women.
They practically drop their panties at the sight of it.
He's almost as famous as the person he guards.’"
If he'd ever taken a bullet in his shoulder, I was disappointed.
They should have shot over a couple of inches, or maybe down, right where his heart was.
Also, I couldn't imagine any woman dropping their panties for him, but if any of this changed his mind, so he'd help me later, it'd work to my advantage.
"My mother doesn't sound like that," Silas said.
"She doesn't sound proud?" I asked, deliberately misunderstanding him again.
"Not yet she doesn't, but she could be. This could be the day you make a decision that changes your entire life.
How about that? I had a teacher once who used to say, 'Make good choices.
' Here's your chance to make a good choice.
Why wouldn't you? Good choices are, you know, good. "
"Quiet," Conrad snapped again. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to tape your mouth shut."
"We should have done that to start with," Silas grumbled. "Taped her mouth shut and put her in the trunk."
"No, thank you," I replied sweetly. "I had the hair on my lip waxed the other day. I don't need it done again yet."
I didn't know, but I guessed having duct tape removed from my mouth would hurt like a bitch. Hard pass.
Also, being locked in the trunk didn't sound like fun to me. I wasn't the biggest fan of enclosed spaces.
"Shut the fuck up then," Conrad said, which sounded pretty final to me.
I pressed my lips together and conceded it might be a good idea to be quiet for a while. I didn't want to provoke them into doing something we'd all end up regretting, like them killing me and hoping my father wouldn't mind. Chances were, he wouldn't mind.
I'd mind.
The fact that they’d end up dead too wasn't much consolation.
If Woody added them to the tally, I was here for it.
Where was Woody anyway? And Forrest and Leif?
Were they still in Saltgrave or had they returned to New York?
For all I knew, they were enjoying themselves on the beach, doing shots of tequila and meeting new women.
Beautiful ones with more confidence and longer legs than me, laughing and flirting and fuck knew what else.
Did I deserve the stab of jealousy that shot through me? It burned its way through my body like wildfire. Made me want to grab a knife and start carving into people's skin.
I shouldn't, but I hated the idea of another woman touching them, kissing them, fucking them. Even doing shots with them.
I was going to have to get past it somehow. All of it. They'd move on with their lives. I had to do the same. Try to forget them. Clinging to memories of them wouldn't help anyone.
I had to take things one day at a time. That was all I could do. That and try not to get myself killed. Or worse.
The thought of what Silas would have done to me if Conrad hadn't stepped in when he did, made me shiver. I could have the taste of his cum on my tongue.
Right now, I wanted to spit the idea out, rinse my mouth with an entire bottle of mouthwash. If he'd actually done it, I'd never get rid of the taste. It would be in my memory forever. No amount of strong coffee would wash it away.
As if I'd conjured up the magic bean juice, we drove past a cafe. Two men sat just inside the window, deep in conversation, their heads bent together, faces turned away. One looked a lot like Woody. The other bore a striking resemblance to Boner.
Great, now I was seeing things.
That was understandable, I supposed. I'd see men who looked like the three guys I loved everywhere until their faces became a blur and I forgot how their voices sounded.
How their hands and tongues felt on my body.
How their cocks felt sliding into my pussy.
Fucking me, filling me, coming inside me. The sounds they made when they came.
I looked away from the window. I needed to stop looking. Stop thinking about them. I was torturing myself.
Forget them, I thought. Think about what matters now. Surviving. Trying to find a way out.
If there was a way I could escape without my father going after them.
And if there wasn't? Then I'd live my life with my eyes closed as tight as I could, like I'd done for years with Wolfgang.
Make myself small and hope to avoid drawing attention to myself.
Take the moments of peace where I could find them.
A little piece of me broke.
"Would your mothers be proud of you?" I asked softly. "I think they'd be disappointed if they knew what you were doing." I gave them both a scathing look before dropping my gaze to my lap.
If they were my children, I'd disown them.
The car slowed and pulled into a parking garage under what looked like an old firehouse. The kind of building that was later converted into a trendy home, maybe several apartments.
The top looked like a loft in classic New York style. I pictured industrial fittings and fixtures, modern furniture, lots of black leather and steel. Masculine and attractive. Not my style, but sleek and livable nonetheless.
The garage door slid down behind us with a soft clang, cutting off the sunlight that filtered between the buildings outside. Cutting off the rest of the world.
Cutting me off from that last bit of hope.
We headed deeper underground, down a narrow, winding ramp, and into a parking area. Only a couple of spots were empty. The other cars were expensive-looking, some classics, most new, several plugged in and charging.
Silas backed the car into one of them.
Without a word, I walked over to the elevator with Silas and Conrad. Both had expressions like stone walls, no hint that anything I'd said to them made an impact. They were here to do a job, nothing more. Deliver a package.
Sleek, new and smooth, the elevator opened with a gentle, almost mocking ping. A cheerful sound that contrasted with my mood.
I stepped inside.
The doors closed, locking us all in. My stomach lurched when the car did. Rising, taking us to the top of the building.