Obsessed (Lace Underground Trilogy Book 2) Read online

Page 8


  "Shit! Fuck! Shit!" There is no water to plunge into so my only course of action is to run and jump and shake the little monsters loose. The prickly feeling on my skin turns to a burning sensation. Tears sting my eyes as the cold biting night air chills my face and nose.

  I continue to run blindly, now fueled more by anger and the fear of imminent death than the painful ant bites. My foot falls forward and lands in a deep natural rut in the dry earth. I fly forward and land hard on my hands and knees. Sharp plant debris skewers my palms and knees. The horrifying memory of the near rape suddenly overwhelms me. The panic attack I'd worked so hard to stay ahead of catches up and consumes me. Catching my breath is impossible and tiny dots dance in my vision. I push to my feet but the entire landscape swirls around me. I drop back to my sore knees and curl myself into a small, shivering ball. I close my eyes to concentrate on slowing my breath, filling my lungs, but each attempt falls short and I'm sure I'll never get enough oxygen again.

  A sound behind me scares the breath right into me with a shuddering gasp. But I hold it deep in my lungs, not wanting to let it go, sure the sound of my exhale will alert whatever creature is stalking me. Not that it would be hard for any seasoned desert predator to find me since I'm out in the open. I'm frozen solid to the spot. It dawns on me that I might very well be sitting on the place on earth where I will take my last breath. I briefly conjure up a scenario where the department lays a tiny bronze plaque to mark the spot and preserve the memory of Detective Angie Tennyson. Maybe Maddox and his new perfectly perfect wife will stop by to bring flowers and pay respects. I'm sure Tiffany is a pink carnation type. She just seems like it. This new game of matching people to flower preferences takes my mind off my certain demise for a second until the desert landscape falls deadly quiet. I don't need to be a nature expert to conclude that a big, treacherous flesh eating creature is out on the hunt, and all the other animals have run for their burrows and rocks.

  I have no burrow, only my own body that I have curled around me like an armadillo. But my skin and mostly fleshless bones will hardly afford me the protection of a plated shell. Do I get up and run, hoping whatever it is will not give chase? Or do I play dead, hoping the predator prefers live prey to carrion?

  Dizziness, nausea and the deep dark feeling of impending death sink down on me like a heavy weight. I find myself wishing for a release from the nightmare, something only a quick death will bring. A shuffling sound behind me makes me pull my arms in tighter. My limbs are nearly numb from lack of movement.

  A large shadow falls over me. I shut my eyes and wait for the end.

  "Come, my desert mouse, let's get you home."

  I try to reason whether or not mirages can come in the form of sound. I'm desperate and sure death is just moments away yet I'm imaging the deep, seductive and confident tone I've grown to love and to loathe during the last few months.

  I feel movement next to me but haven't pulled myself from my makeshift shell yet. Warm breath brushes against my skin, contrasting boldly with the cold night air. "You've had enough and so have I."

  I uncurl my shoulders and loosen my arms. My hands and face tingle with numbness as I turn my head toward him. He's crouched down next to me. There's just enough concern in his blue eyes to make me almost believe he might have been worried about me. But I know that's not the case. I should lash out, strike him, scream at him. Instead, I tumble into sobs.

  He pushes up to standing and lowers his hand for me to take. I push it away but regret my decision when I try to follow and push to my feet. My knees are wet noodles. I sway forward, landing directly against his hard, unforgiving chest. Instantly, the scent and warmth of him melts my anger. My chest is heavy with relief.

  I balance against him as he pulls off his big warm coat and wraps it around me. The gesture and the instant relief of warmth produce another round of tears. He swipes them brusquely away with his thumb.

  The blood is circulating through my limbs again. The warm coat has helped clear my head. I'm able to stand on my own.

  "You left me out here to die." My voice is hoarse from the cold.

  Kane shakes his head. "Never." He pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Come get us."

  I'm feeling stronger each passing second, mostly from knowing that I'm no longer in danger of being eaten by something with ugly fangs and sharp claws but also because I'm tucked in a warm coat that oozes his body heat.

  I move my arm in a circle. "I could have been eaten alive. In fact, I was nearly eaten to the bone by piranha style red ants."

  "Yes. Shit, fuck, shit," he mimics. "Don't think I've ever seen anyone rid themselves of ants by running."

  "You were watching? You were the big, menacing predator stalking me in the shadows?"

  He takes my hand. "Apparently my stalking skills aren't as good as I imagined. Yes, that was me watching you walk in big circles."

  Headlights temporarily blind me as the black van travels toward us, mowing down low, bristly shrubs in its path. I pull my hand from his grasp, nowhere near ready to forgive him.

  I pull the large coat tighter around me. "So you're not sending me away?"

  He turns to look at me as the vehicle makes its way to us. The headlights illuminate his features, the serious set of his mouth as he gazes at me. "Do you want to leave me?"

  I'm not expecting the question. Even more, I'm not expecting the search for an answer. It should be a fast and resounding yes. That's what it should be. "I don't know," I say quietly. "All I know right now is that I want out of this desert."

  The van reaches us and Kane opens the door. I nearly fall inside onto the seats. I'm still cocooned in his coat and don't see myself giving it up anytime soon. I curl up in the corner and watch him through heavy lids. The newfound warmth and security allows the exhaustion to take over.

  Kane slides onto the seat across the way and opens a panel. He pulls out a bottle of water and hands it to me. I take several gulps but wince at the pain that's slowly taking over my entire head. The overhead lights are dim but they feel like lightning streaks in my eyes. Through lashes, I see the glint of a silver needle.

  "Yes or no?" he asks.

  It takes me no time to decide. I'm in agony from the top of my head to my freezing toes. I drop the coat off my shoulder and push up my sleeve. I can't explain why, I don't know if it's shame or if it's just too hard to look at him when he's so close but I don't lift my eyes. I turn to face the opaque window as he shoots the nectar into my veins. It warms and comforts me from the inside as his coat did from the outside. The tension and pain in my muscles and head lessen. Soon the drug will work its magic to erase any of the harsh, bad memories of the night. As much as I want Kane to sit with me so I can curl against him, I don't ask. I push the idea out of my head.

  "If you think you were teaching me a lesson tonight"—my words stretch longer—"It worked." A yawn pauses my words. "But only for tonight. I still hate you, sometimes. Especially tonight." I shrink back into the warmth. "But not your coat. I love this coat."

  I lean back with a sigh that borders on a moan. My eyes drift shut and I fall into a deep sleep.

  20

  Maddox

  The whole thing is as strange as it is expected. The clandestine journey to the compound. Rich men feeding their fantasies in a secret club that's filled with all the usual luxuries, gourmet food, expensive booze, posh furniture and tempting young women. The leather cuffs and barely there lingerie caught me off guard at first but the women seemed completely at ease walking around in skimpy panties. Some were totally naked with the exception of the kinky leather cuffs and anklets. No real surprises but one major disappointment. There was no sign of Ten.

  I played along with the whole thing, admittedly having a better time than I should have. There wasn't any noticeable networking happening between the big shots and rich important men in the room. They might have belonged to a secret brotherhood of sorts but it was obvious they were there for only one thing. As the other members peeled aw
ay with their prospective partners for the night, it became clear that I was going to be expected to do the same.

  I had more than my share of special invites, including one woman who said she loved it rough and kinky. As much fun as rough and kinky sounded, I pretended to be too overwhelmed with my choices to decide.

  One pert blonde wearing a lacy pink pair of panties and nothing else and whose name I think is Cathy stands up in front of the couch where I've been sipping booze with a woman on each side of me and a naked woman sitting directly on my lap. "Well, newbie, you're not going to leave all of us brokenhearted are you? At least make one girl's night. The caravan is going to be leaving in an hour, and you haven't even had a kiss."

  The bodyguard who's been stationed at one end of the room pulls out his phone and walks out to take the call. I lift my arms and drop them around the women on each side of me. Cathy drops to the floor in front of me and rests her arms on my knees. The woman in my lap, Eve, I think, gives her a bit of a curled-lip sneer but it's ignored. I am the last male in the room and it feels like the first break of the evening. I can talk freely to the women.

  "So what's your thing?" Eve punctuates her question with a tongue kiss of my ear.

  "My thing?" I ask. Something tells me just about anything goes down here in the Lace Underground.

  "She means what kind of girl do you like?" the woman on my right clarifies.

  I force down an embarrassed smile. "Oh that, thought you meant—Right. What kind of girl?" A new opportunity rose. I was sitting with two blondes, a brunette and a woman with bleached white hair. "First of all, the reason I'm still sitting here is because all of you are drop dead beautiful."

  This earns me a round of smiles. I glance toward the door. The bodyguard hasn't returned yet. "I'll tell ya all a little secret. Kind of corny but when I was eight I had a huge crush on my third grade teacher, Miss Rimple. And she had this awesome red hair. So I guess when you ask me what my thing is, I'd have to say red hair."

  Cathy sits up straight and laughs. "Well, there's only one ginger around here and she's taken."

  The women glance at each other but make no comments. I'm sure my time to ask questions is running out. "Taken? Damn, then I must have missed her when I walked into the party."

  "She doesn't come to the parties." The woman on my lap hops off abruptly.

  The blonde looks up at her. "Where are you going, Eve?"

  "The pool." She sashays out of the room.

  "I think she's mad that you mentioned liking red hair," Cathy says, immediately taking my vacated lap. It's a move that works out well. She's close enough for me to ask questions without being heard by the guard who has stepped back into the room. And Cathy seems the most generous with information.

  "Why is that?" I ask with a laugh as if I consider this just a humorous conversation.

  The woman under my right arm nudges Cathy's knee and subtly shakes her head.

  "Uh oh, is red hair a forbidden topic?" I laugh again.

  "No, let's just change the subject to something more interesting," Cathy suggests. She curls her arm around my neck and pushes her naked breasts against me. "I'll bet you are a mighty satisfying fuck. Just too bad none of us hot and horny women are going to get a chance to judge for ourselves."

  A bell rings in the hallway. "That's the ten minute warning bell telling everyone to finish up." She sighs. "You sure you don't want to head into my room for a quickie?"

  "Hey, wait a minute, Cath, I was here first," the woman on my right says.

  "Tell you what, ladies, next time I promise to make my decision early. Tonight I was just getting my feet wet in the new club."

  Cathy leans her mouth next to my ear. "I can tell you a few other parts you got wet too with those green eyes and broad shoulders of yours."

  I kiss her neck. "Next time, beautiful. I promise." I pat her bottom. "I need to use the restroom before the ride back to the airport. If you lovely ladies will excuse me."

  The bodyguard watches me with keen interest as I walk down the hallway leading to the restroom. Sitting with dozens of mostly naked, extremely horny women has been a good dose of torture. I splash water on my face and stare at my reflection. I was thrilled to get accepted into the club. I was in. I was going to find Ten and bring her home. But the night has been a thorough fucking failure. With the tracking device plan thwarted, I still have no clue where I am. Freestone even took care to have the windows on his small private plane bolted shut in case a passenger got the idea to stare down at the landscape below. We were blindfolded before we were led out of the plane so I didn't even see the airport. But if nothing else, the plane ride is going to help us. Every airport has records of takeoffs and landings. That is going to be the best place to start a search if my club membership turns out to be a bust. My only worry now is that Ten isn't even at the location. As much as I wanted to pry more information out of Cathy, it seemed I hit a topic that was off limits.

  The door opens and the bodyguard walks in. I give him a chin lift. "How's it going?" I sense tension but keep cool with a friendly smile. "Nice job just watching all those sweeties strutting around."

  "You didn't find anyone to your liking?" his tone is all business.

  "What? Oh fuck no, every single girl out there is hot." I glance around even though I know we're alone. "To tell you the truth and just between you and me, I've only been with a few women and I was kind of nervous. Thought I might, you know, disappoint. Come too quick," I whisper.

  His stone mask is cracking just enough to assure me he's going to have a good hearty laugh once I leave the room. He nods. "Got it. Your secret is safe with me."

  I slap him just a bit too hard on the shoulder. He looks pretty pissed about it but seems to feel sorry enough for the pre-ejaculating rich guy to let it pass. "Thanks, man. But next time." I motion back and forth with my hips. "Next time I'm going to be ready." I walk out of the bathroom.

  The women are gathering up some of the food and drinks to take back to their rooms. The bodyguard steps out of the bathroom seconds later. "We need to get you down to the garage. The members will be gathering for the ride back to the airport."

  "That's too bad," I say, "feels like the night just zipped by."

  "Yeah zipped by," he repeats wryly. It seems I've given him a good story to tell his friends.

  We head along several corridors. I walk just slightly behind him, taking note of certain details. Doors are labeled with numbers. Each one requires a pass card or code.

  "What do you have to do to get one of the key cards? Become a prime member?" I ask with a laugh.

  "Just have to pick entertainment for the night."

  "I see. Next time, I'll be ready." There were cameras in every corner of the hallway. Freestone certainly liked his security. "When do I get to meet Mr. Freestone? Is that another level of membership too?"

  "Mr. Freestone doesn't generally mingle with the club members."

  A driver is already standing at the limousine waiting for some of my club mates to climb inside. There is a long tunnel that leads from somewhere above to the garage. A black van emerges from the tunnel, heading back into the garage from above.

  The guard doesn't react so I can only assume he is expecting it. I slow my pace as we cross the vast cement floor of the garage, hoping I'll get a glimpse of the new visitor. I can only assume it is Freestone himself.

  A few of the other club members come through the door, their low voices sounding loud in the vast garage. I pause, pretending to be interested in their conversation. "Great party eh?" I say.

  They seem shocked and at the same time amused that the new member is a goofball. "How did they let that one in?" One man mutters to the other as they walk past.

  A driver gets out of the van, a big guy with lots of neck tattoos. Freestone seems to have a nice crew of bodyguards. For the first time, luck is with me. Some of my fellow club members are way past prime. They might just have been pushed to their physical limits some with the night's activities
. It's taking them longer than expected to climb into the limo.

  I stay just out of view of the van but I can hear movement and voices. It seems that I might catch a glimpse of Freestone before being whisked away. The driver emerges from behind the van. He pulls out his key card for the garage exit door. A man is walking behind him carrying a person wrapped in a black overcoat. I get a clean view of the guy's profile. It's Freestone. He is easy to recognize. Whoever is in his arms moves so they are still alive.

  "Let's go," the guard says sharply to me.

  My eyes follow Freestone for another second. He seems to know he's being watched and turns his piercing gaze back over his shoulder. We lock eyes for a brief moment, then he faces ahead. The movement has jostled the black coat away from the head of the person he's carrying.

  My entire body tenses. Red hair. Ten's hair.

  21

  Angie

  My limbs and head are so heavy it feels as if they have been super-glued to the bed. I don't even open my eyes when the knock is followed by the door opening.

  "Thank you but I'm not up to breakfast this morning," I call from the pillows.

  "Listen here, darlin', you get that skinny ass of yours up and out of that bed for this smoothie or else I'll pour it down your throat."

  I freeze in bed and open my eyes to make sure I'm actually awake and alive. Yep, I'm still alive and I'm not dreaming. I sit up a little too fast and catch myself before toppling forward. Blake sets the smoothie glass on the table and runs toward me as I hop jubilantly out of bed. He catches me before I crumple on weak legs to the ground.

  "See what I mean about drinking that smoothie." For a change he left his brightly colored contacts behind. I'm staring into warm brown eyes and the smile I've grown to love.

 

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