Chapter 16
It was going incredibly well because the Caracals were massive idiots. Hanna didn’t even need to pretend to drop a lipstick or pen and take the slow bend to pick it up before coming up to look at them. They were already salivating just from standing outside with her, talking to her.
“I’m from New Mexico,” she said, pulling the story out of her brain just as quickly as she opened her mouth, hoping she could keep the consistency of it up as she went. “I was driving to visit my grandmother in Fort Lauderdale. I’ve never driven across the country by myself before. My boyfriend was supposed to be with me--ex-boyfriend. Sorry, I forget still.”
They were listening to her better than any man had listened to her before. Their wide eyes were bouncing between the skin exposed on her chest and her sad, big eyes as she told her sob story, thinking of every porno film she ever watched and recalling the clichés from them all. She pushed her arms together a little bit more, she rubbed her arm absently, she fidgeted her legs to draw their attention below as well. She needed their sleazy eyes all over her while Roarke moved in on the house.
“I’ve been trying to find help for a while now and I saw you guys with your bikes and I figured you must know a lot about cars and are strong enough to help me push it off the road in neutral,” she said, letting her own eyes rake over them.
In all honesty, they were not that impressive to look at. They had the definition of boys who were naturally skinny, body fat missing from their form not because they worked out but because their metabolisms were on their side. It was the exact type of guy who liked to flex in the mirror, take a picture, and put it up on the internet with whatever iPhone filter made the shadows of their miniscule muscles stand out more. They probably also believed every time a girl said they were the best she ever had or the biggest she’d ever seen. Men didn’t seem to realize women knew all the tricks and shared them with each other.
They were on her like the proverbial dog and the bone. Now she just had to figure out where best to lead them. Roarke was out of her sight and, with any luck, inside the house already. She needed to get them out of the front yard; they needed to get out of any sightlines from the street, that much was clear. She didn’t need someone walking by and seeing them, or a Caracal riding by and bringing more of his friends. They clearly expected at least a little bit of this move, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent out the majority of their gang to meet their own. She needed to get out of sight and bring the idiots with her. She had no way to know where Roarke was in the house, but she hoped he was smart enough to get somewhere he wouldn’t be seen.
“Before we do that though,” she said. “Is there any way I can get your help to make a call to my grandmother that I’m going to be late? I should also call around to see if there’s a motel that will let me stay for the night.”
Motels were a cesspool of disgusting, white trash sex. She’d said some magic words to them because their eyes lit up at the possibility of fucking some random, helpless, emotionally vulnerable woman in an anonymous hotel room and then riding off into the night to have a victory beer. Men were deplorable sometimes, but it worked in her favor to get them where she needed them.
“There’s a phone inside,” one said, jerking his thumb behind him to point at the house.
“You guys won’t mind me in your house? It’s so nice and big, I swear I’m not a thief or anything,” she said.
“Oh no, ma’am. We’d love to have you,” the other said.
She fought an eye roll. They were idiots. But she nodded, smiling gratefully, giving them the biggest doe eyes she could as she watched them clean the grease of their hands and fix their clothes before nodding back and leading her towards the front door. This, looking back, is where Hanna’s mistake was. She was too impressed with her own ability to pull their puppet strings, too focused on getting in the house that she didn’t notice the gate behind them opening to let a car in and they were too engrossed with the idea of fucking a girl in their boss’s expensive house to notice as well.
The door closed behind her.
“If I could just use a phone, if you have one. That’d be very helpful,” she said loudly, trying to give Roarke a warning if he was inside, if he could hear her.
“Right this way,” one said, walking her into the kitchen.
This is where things truly fell apart. The front door opened behind them and all three of them turned like deer in headlights to see Isabelle standing there. At first her hands were on her hips and she was giving them a look of confusion and annoyance before her eyes fell on Hanna and recognition replaced the irritation, her hands falling from her hips.
“What the hell is she doing here?” she asked, dangerously. It was the most unhinged that Hanna had ever seen Hanna. This was not the calm, controlled woman who moved the puzzle pieces around, this was a woman finally caught off guard, and scared because of it.
“Ma’am--”
“You two are fucking morons,” she said. “That’s Roarke’s newest bed bitch.”
It took the two men a few minutes to understand what she was saying. They were dumb even then, probably trying to work through it with all their blood rushing to their penises. Then suddenly, they seemed to realize, or at least understand that something was wrong. Hanna should have used the time they took to think through their situation to break free, to throw an elbow or kick someone between the legs, to make a break for it. But she paused too long and they moved in.
She was hit behind the knees and she covered her stomach with her hands on instinct, keeping them away from the baby they didn’t know was nestled there. She heard a metallic click behind her, she knew that sound, the safety coming off a gun. She felt the cold metal press against the back of her head and all she could think of was how sorry she was to her child who may never see the light of day.