Saint: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 1) Page 20

  I spoke so softly, my lips didn’t move. “Don’t run. I will get you out of here. I promise. Trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s enough.” He hauled off and tossed her at the corner.

  Calmly, I straightened, set the makeup down, and left the room. The hallway was empty like I left it. No one had even cleaned the vomit off the floor.

  I paced the length of the space, heart thrashing in my rib cage. I didn’t have a plan. I had the beginnings of one and the rest was tumbling in my head in real time.

  Go. Now.

  I messed up my hair and pushed a strap off my shoulder. Ripping open the door, I burst in the back while the piece of garbage stepped down from delivering Special Item Number Three.

  “Help,” I cried, falling on him. “Help.”

  He drew his gun with one hand and pushed me back with the other. “What the fuck’s your problem?”

  “In the bathroom,” I gasped. “A man. There’s blood everywhere.”

  “What?” Alarm bled into fury.

  “I tried to wake him but he’s not moving. I think he’s one of the bidders. What do I do? Get Corbin?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “It’s probably some drunk fuck who mouthed off at the tables and caught it while on the can. Corbin won’t be happy if we bother him for that. Don’t move,” he barked at the girls.

  He followed me to the bathroom.

  The still unnamed brute shoved me aside. He ran in first—gun ready—and met with an empty room. “Where is he?”

  I kicked the door, sending it careening into his back. He hurled forward, and I raced inside, using the momentum to shove him headfirst into the wall.

  Roaring, he spun on me. A seeping wound painted his raging fury in blood.

  His gun came up and I jumped on his arm like I’d seen Sinjin do. I jerked his wrist trying to loosen his grip.

  The King swung his whole body, lifting me off my feet and throwing me across the room.

  “Ahh!”

  I crashed onto the toilet. Pain ricocheted up my back. I slid off and fell on the wastebin, knocking over the contents. My vision cleared, and I threw myself to the side.

  The bullet whizzed through the space my head had been.

  A deep, guttural scream built in my chest. I launched at him, tackling him into the counter, and seized his arm again. I twisted so violently his shout penetrated my scream.

  Grabbing his neck, I smashed his face down on my thigh. If his nose wasn’t broken before, it was then.

  “Disgusting, evil, child-raping monster!”

  I ran him at the toilet, holding tight on the hem of his shirt. His head hit the metal flusher. He glanced off, groaning dazedly. I held his neck the way he did the little girl, and struck his face against the toilet seat again. And again. And again.

  I staggered away from his still body. Only his rising chest let me know he was alive. “What did I tell you?” My sore rasp tinged sinister. “Some piece of trash is bleeding on the bathroom floor.”

  Hurry.

  Three girls had been called up. I had to get them out before they called the fourth.

  Tandy blocked my path coming in backstage. “Serenity, what did you do? Where’s Felix?”

  “Is that his name? Oh, he had to take care of something.” My veins were on fire. Humming on pure adrenaline. “He told me to look after the girls.”

  Ducking her grasp, I raced to the final three children. “Let’s go. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Go?” Eight years old, she shook in the purple bathing suit they’d forced her into.

  “Yes, go.” I picked her up, causing the final girl to come to life. Crying out, she ripped her from me, clutching her with a protectiveness that spoke volumes.

  “—thirty thousand to bidder twelve. Thirty thousand going once.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You have to go now. Quickly.”

  I tripped over my heels running to the exit. A little hand slipped into mine.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Kaylee.”

  “There’s a pizza place across the street, Kaylee.” I twisted the handle. It didn’t budge. “Marco’s Pizza. Go in there and hide. I’ll come for you.”

  I threw myself against the door. “No matter what happens. I will come for you.” I rammed it again, a cry leaking through my teeth. “Come on! Please!”

  “On three.” Suddenly, Pearl and Tandy were there.

  They squeezed in next to me. “One, two, three!”

  We hit the metal hard enough to rattle my skeleton.

  “Again,” Pearl ordered. “One, two, three!”

  My muscles strained to their limit, then stretched past it.

  Screech.

  The exit gave an inch. Fresh air poured through the slit, giving me new strength.

  We shoved against the obstruction, forcing it out of the door’s path until there was just enough room for a child to get through.

  “Hurry,” said one of the guys. He steered the two remaining girls to us. “Run, little darlings, and don’t look back.”

  “Marco’s,” I told them. Kaylee slipped out, still holding my hand. “I’ll find you.”

  “Sold.”

  She let go, and was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would Felix leave?”

  The auctioneer left his podium. He stood before our passive group, bloodshot eyes narrowed to slits. His gray suit and polished shoes cut an impressive figure compared to Felix, but all I saw was a monster masquerading as one of us.

  “Do you think he shares his plans with us?” Pearl rolled her eyes. “All we know is Felix said he had to take care of something. He took the girls and left.”

  “We promised them six,” he hissed.

  “Well, now they’ll have to go home with someone their own age.” She spread her hands. “I’m ready to pony up.”

  “Yeah,” someone said. “You’re acting like the auction is over when we’re all standing here.”

  “Let’s go.” Tandy strode over to the staircase. “The bidders are waiting.”

  Snarling, he scanned us, looking for a trace of deceit.

  I faced my bruised back to the wall. The marks on my skin. Swelling lump hiding in my hair. Soreness in my shoulder. And unconscious man in the bathroom. What I’d done was written on my body, and on his.

  Balling my fists, I hid them behind me when the auctioneer passed over me. Pearl said she’d say we got into it if anyone noticed I was banged up.

  He stopped, zeroing in on me. He walked straight up to me.

  “You.” He grabbed my chin and twisted my face side to side. I was so stiff it was a feat my muscles responded to the act. “Who are you?”

  “Serenity.”

  “Bryan Acker.”

  My eyes widened imperceptibly. “What?”

  “Candy told us to put your name down. Said you’d be a good fit for Acker. She was spot-on.”

  The flood of panic cleared. His sneer was gone, and in its place, a smirk.

  “We’ll get a shitload of money from you. Almost enough to make up for those last three until I can track that stupid fuck down.” At this point, he was mostly speaking to himself.

  “Fix yourself up.” He roughly towed me to the vanity. “Put some makeup on for fuck’s sake. You’re next.”

  The others edged between us, shielding my back, and saying they’d do me up. Their caution wasn’t needed because he’d already moved on.

  “Hello? It’s Donovan,” he said into the phone. “We’ve got a problem. Felix took off with three of the special items. How would I fucking know? Yeah. No.”

  I hardly felt Pearl and Tandy tugging at my hair.

  “Don’t tell Corbin. Not yet. If we can get them back here before the end, this doesn’t have to be a problem. Just track him down.

  “Are you done?” he shouted.

  “Almost,” Tandy said. “Two minutes.”

  “One.” He swept
onto the stage. “Sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve changed the bidding order. The final three special items will be auctioned at the end of the night. But don’t be disappointed, our next item up for auction is a rare beauty.”

  “All right.” Tandy patted some color in my cheeks. “That should do it. You get yourself out of here, girl, and don’t stop running until you hit coast.” She guided me to the stairs. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll stick to the script.”

  “Welcome, Serenity.”

  I took a step. Then two.

  I stopped. “Thank you.”

  “We didn’t do it for you,” Pearl said. “Just go and... get those girls to safety.”

  “I will.”

  Pushing the curtains aside, I stepped onto the platform.

  A row of stage lights shone on me, showcasing my body and burning my retinas. I strained to see into the crowd.

  Were the people who bought the first three girls still here? Maybe. But the ones waiting to buy the final three were.

  “Let’s start the bidding at ten thousand. Do I have ten— Ten thousand to bidder fifty-seven. Do I have fifteen? Serenity?”

  I started.

  “Give us a twirl, would you, love?”

  “Oh, uh, right.” Propping one hand on my waist, I did my best impression of sexy. Lips pouty. Eyes lowered. Hips swaying. Slowly, I turned, and before my back faced the audience, I bent over and flashed my thong-covered ass.

  “That’s fifteen. Twenty— Twenty-five thousand to fifty-seven.”

  The auctioneer’s distraction gave me the chance to complete my twirl—bruises unseen.

  The bids were soaring up, but not because everyone wanted me. Fifty-seven. Twenty-one. Sixteen. Those three bounced back and forth, lobbing their money at the Kings until two inevitably failed to claim the prize.

  Me.

  I assumed Bryan Acker was among those three. I couldn’t see him or anyone else, which I quickly accepted was by design. The stage lights shone stark on the sweat running down my chest. The twitching corner of my smiling lips. My nails cutting half-moons on my hips. They could see it all.

  I saw nothing. No other way forward but one. And as I stood there—besieged once more by the phantom fingers and dozens of crawling, leering eyes—I bent my neck to the fist ripping the hair from my scalp, gazed up at the ceiling, and made my choice.

  “Sold! Forty-five thousand to bidder fifty-seven. Congratulations, sir.”

  The auctioneer gestured to me, pointing to my left. I understood. The girls hadn’t returned backstage and neither would I.

  I climbed off the stage into the waiting hands of security. He grasped my arm with more gentleness than I’d been receiving that night, and led me to the door where a lone man awaited.

  “Mr. Acker.”

  The picture of this man I formed in my head, shattered on sight. A waxy-faced, middle-aged man who was balding on top and strutted around in three-thousand-dollar suits was my bet.

  Middle-aged he was, but his waxy, Botox-ed skin was actually smooth and unblemished barring a few lines around his eyes and mouth. Sprinkles of salt laced a full-head of pepper hair, and the three-thousand-dollar suit was left in the closet in favor of a coat, half-zipped red fleece shirt, and brown pants.

  Between the big-framed glasses perched on his nose and nervous smile, he passed for the everyday, casual geek.

  But it’s definitely not every day a casual geek drops almost fifty thousand dollars for a night with an escort.

  I think.

  The guard retrieved a tablet from his coat. “You may leave after payment is transferred.”

  He didn’t spare a glance for him. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” I rasped.

  “Wow.” He traced me inch by inch, popping goose bumps on my skin. “You look just like her.”

  “Um. That’s cool.”

  “Except for this.” Acker shrugged off his coat and draped it over my shoulder. “There. You must be freezing.”

  Gaze fixed on me, he accepted the tablet and made the transfer.

  “Worth every penny,” he said, offering his elbow. “Shall we?”

  “Yes.” And quickly.

  We passed into the hallway, strolling past the small crowd gathered around the bathroom.

  “Did you see anything?! Who did this?!”

  “I didn’t see nothing. Is he dead?”

  “Felix? Felix!”

  “Huh,” Acker voiced as we left the chaos behind. “Wonder what happened?”

  “Me too.”

  “THIS WAY, SIR. YOUR room is 204.”

  Cash wasn’t exaggerating about the security preventing him from getting to Acker himself. We left the club and walked into the waiting hands of four personal bodyguards. They escorted us from the door of the alley, hands on their clips like they were waiting for one of the drunk clubbers to make a move. We slid into a limo with three more guards inside.

  “A lot of security,” I commented.

  “Yes.”

  Bryan and I didn’t exchange more conversation on the drive. I watched the pizzeria grow small in the distance, then we turned and it—they—were gone. Each mile that took me away from them was a band around my throat. I couldn’t play the teasing, charming companion when the seconds I wasted with this man brought those girls closer to danger. Luckily, he wasn’t in a chatty mood either.

  Out of Harlow we drove, veering on the express for Leighbridge. Two months ago, I couldn’t afford the bus fare to Leighbridge. Fast-forward to me cruising through the borough, wearing belly dancer lingerie in the back of a limo.

  How your life can change in one month. One night. With one turn around a corner.

  The vehicle pulled up to the Imperial Majesty Hotel. A valet sprang forward to meet us, but a guard was already there.

  Walking into the lobby was passing among elegance, class, and wealth made tangible. Palm fronds brushed their tips over my hair and shoulders. They reached down from the plant beds on either side of us, forming a living, green walkway. They led a path to reception, and at their back, a waterfall installation stretched to the ceiling. Crystal chandeliers spread shimmering light over the perfect picture.

  This was the nicest place I’d ever seen, and I was including movies and television shows. Did Bryan take all of his trysts to places as nice as this?

  Reception wasn’t our destination. The two of us, and our circling cocoon of bodyguards, took the elevator up one floor and spilled out into a hallway. This one also filled with large pots of palms, cane plants, and tall trees.

  I flicked between the cameras and the plants positioned by the room doors. Makes sense now.

  A grand fancy hotel for trysts. If anyone checked these cameras, they’d have a hard time making out faces behind the shrubs.

  “Beautiful hotel,” I murmured.

  Bryan squeezed my hand, and a passing thought came and went that Sinjin would likely kill for it. “I knew you would like it.”

  Did you?

  The question almost popped out, but I held it back.

  “This way, sir.” The guard disappeared behind a tree and a soft chime echoed in the hall. “Room 204.”

  “Thank you.”

  Acker and I went in. Alone.

  Cash’s thinking that this was the best way to get close to him was sound.

  Acker placed his phone next to the fruit bowl on the hall table.

  I touched the tiny white pills concealed in my bra. Now to see if part two of the plan goes as smoothly.

  “After you.” Acker placed a hand on the small of my back, leading me into a haven as luxurious as the preamble promised. “What do you think?”

  Designs had been molded into the walls, displaying dandelion petals through the air. I followed the floated seeds where they rounded the corner, and the king-sized bed covered with fluffy white sheets lighter than dandelions itself, became the sight to see.

  Turning around, the space laid out before me. The minibar, dining table, and small fridge
. Blackout curtains covered the windows. One set was tied back to reveal the balcony at the far end, and in the middle of everything, the floors gave way to a sunken living room—complete with a white leather sectional, big-screen television, and a coffee table where a bottle of wine was chilling in ice.

  “It’s perfect,” I said. “Acker, how about we open a—”

  He stepped into my path. “Call me Bry.”

  “Okay, Bry. Why don’t we—”

  A soft touch on my elbows stayed my words. He was close. Very close.

  Undulating fingers caressed my arms reminiscent of running your hand over piano keys.

  “Do you like my shirt?” he whispered.

  “Y-yes,” I croaked. He thinks he’s here for one thing in particular. Get to the wine and I’ll put that dream to bed.

  “You’ve always liked me in red.”

  I frowned. Were we roleplaying?

  “Yes,” I finally said. “Red suits you. It... brings out your eyes.”

  “Your eyes.” Acker cupped my face. Reverence made his bronze pools shine. “You truly look just like her.”

  I cast about for how to get out of his embrace without raising suspicion. “Who?”

  “My mother.”

  My mind ground to a dead halt—all function ceasing as two words tried and failed to be understood.

  “I look like your mother?” I repeated slowly.

  “Almost.” Bryan darted off to the closet, and withdrew a pair of jeans and a plain buttoned-up blouse. “Put this on. Mommy would never dress like that.”

  Mommy?

  He advanced on me. The smile I previously thought charming morphed. “Put it on.”

  “Fine.”

  I took the clothes into the bathroom and changed, telling myself this outfit was better than sequin circus seductress. I told myself that and still my skin crawled doing up the final buttons. This man spent a year’s salary for a night with his mom’s clone. I did not want to find out why.

  I came out of the bathroom and discovered Acker changed too. The red shirt remained, but the pants had been abandoned on the bedroom floor. In their place was a pair of tight white shorts that strained to cover an inch of his pale, hairy thighs, and suspenders.