Chapter Four
HER NAME WAS Shelly. And she had transportation in the form of a nice Mercedes.
Apparently working for Henri paid well.
There was a lightness in my chest I did my best to ignore. I couldn’t count on her. She was a stranger to me. She could just as easily turn on me as help me.
Even with her help, my odds weren’t looking too good. Helping me had made her boss angry. Henri. She took us to a friend of hers—or maybe he was more than a friend. And he was a cop, so he could help. Until we found out that the cops were looking for us too. Apparently Henri had dirty cops on his payroll, and it wouldn’t be safe for us there—not even in police custody.
It wouldn’t be safe for us anywhere.
That was how we ended up at the door of a mansion.
The high gates and tension in Shelly made my heart skip. “I don’t want to go here.”
“Sorry to say, we’re running low on options. What, you don’t like rich people?” She glanced at me, and I read the truth in her eyes. Whoever owned this mansion was dangerous. Even more dangerous than the man after us. That was the only way we’d be safe.
Safe had become a relative term. “I don’t like men,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Men aren’t for liking, Ella.”
“What are they for, then? Fucking?” My stomach turned over at the memory of the men in that hotel room. Of the men in that empty house, coming in to use the bathroom while I was chained to the pipes. Of all men, everywhere. “For money?”
“At least I provide a service when I take their money.”
So she thought I’d gotten paid for being there, that I’d made a deal and then backed out. It wasn’t the truth, but I didn’t bother correcting her. It didn’t matter how she thought I’d ended up there. All that mattered was that I was out now. And I would never go back.
We stopped at a metal pad outside the wrought-iron gate, a little green light the only illumination besides the moon. She typed in a number, and the gate rattled open. Whoever this was, Shelly knew him, and knew him well. She pulled the car into the circular drive as the gate closed behind us.
The engine popped under the hood as it cooled. Shelly wiped her palms on her dress.
She’d had nothing but confidence since I met her. Now she looked scared.
“You seem…nervous,” I told her, which was a charitable description.
Her lips pressed together. She said nothing, which only made me nervous too.
I glanced at the forbidding facade of the mansion. “I mean, why wouldn’t you come here first—a loaded guy like this in your address book?” Not just a man she knew. One she knew well enough to have a security code. “Unless he’s really bad.”
“He’s my friend,” she said, her voice somehow small. “It’s just that…well, he might be upset with me.”
Shit. “What’d you do?”
“I sold him out.” She sighed, resigned. “Almost got him killed.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know much about powerful criminals, but I would have thought that was a death sentence for her. She seemed to know it too, her expression chillingly blank.
We were both tense as we approached the front door. A man in a smart vest and slacks answered the door. His clothes looked expensive enough, his eyes jaded enough, but he didn’t quite exude power. And definitely not anger. He seemed more bored than anything.
“Philip’s not here,” he said, and I couldn’t help a quiet sigh of relief. I didn’t want to meet this man—a man who could inspire fear in a woman as self-assured as Shelly.
Except I could feel Shelly’s panic—and I knew that we had nowhere else to go.
“But you’re free to wait here until he returns.”
*
WE WAITED IN some kind of living room, the oversize molding and furniture making me feel small. Shelly kicked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa, falling asleep within minutes. Apparently it had been a bad night for her.
I was right there with her, dark memories following me into sleep, crowding my nightmares.
I dreamed of men’s leering faces and cruel words. I dreamed of rough hands and lingering pain. I dreamed of a warm weight on top of me—and I fought it. Just like before, I kicked and punched, determined to fight my way out.
“Shhh,” came a voice I didn’t recognize. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
My vision slowly cleared from sleep, blurry shapes sharpening into a man. He wore a white dress shirt, slightly rumpled but clearly well fit on his powerful frame. His gaze took in everything—from my tangled hair to my messy makeup to the bruises on my wrists.
And he was holding a blanket.
That had been the weight I dreamed about. He wasn’t going to hurt me.
This must be the man we came to see. The man who owned this mansion. The man more dangerous than the one who hunted us now.
“You’re Philip.”
He gave me a small smile. “And you are?”
I shrugged, only half-awake. “She calls me Ella.”
He glanced at Shelly, who was asleep on the couch. “Why did she bring you here?”
Would he kick us out? If he did, I’d have nowhere to go. Nowhere safe. I’d be lost. But even more than myself, I was worried for Shelly. She had betrayed him, she said. Sold him out. He might kill her—and she’d risked so much for me already.
“Please don’t hurt her,” I whispered. “She saved me.”
A slight frown crossed his handsome face. “Why would you say that?”
Oh shit, what if he didn’t know what she’d done? I couldn’t tell him. “No reason.”
Then he did something that surprised me. He laughed softly. “All right, Ella. I’m not going to hurt her. Even if she is fucking a cop.”
My throat was dry. “Please.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes. He reached for me, and I flinched. It didn’t stop him. He ran a finger down my cheek, barely a whisper, maybe not even touching, just moving the air. “So soft. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?”
The air felt too thin. I couldn’t breathe enough in. “I’m not.”
He looked amused. “Not what? Not begging?”
I was definitely begging, but he was right. I wasn’t sure what I needed most. Leave me alone. Except that we’d come to his house. “Let us stay,” I said, my voice hoarse.
Someone would pay the cost of that. Shelly? Me?
He studied me for a long moment. Then he gently placed the blanket over me again, cocooning me in warmth. “Rest,” he finally said. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
And somehow I did rest—even knowing he was there, watching. It wasn’t a deep sleep, more like a haze of exhaustion that I let creep over me, a brief respite from the fear I’d known since men first stopped me outside the bathroom of the club. I was safe, for now. We’ll figure it out in the morning.
I was almost completely asleep when I heard Shelly stir.
“Good,” Philip murmured to her. “You’re up.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick and weary.
“For arriving uninvited in the middle of the night, or for ratting me out?” he asked.
“Both.”
I kept my eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Maybe it was wrong of me to eavesdrop when they didn’t know I was awake, but I was far past right and wrong, white and black. There was only safety, and I would do anything to have it.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
She laughed softly, a tinkling sound that was somehow sensual. “Twenty bucks on the clearance rack. Sorry, babe. Not everyone keeps me in Dior.”
He grunted in response. “I take it you’re desperate, since you’re here.”
“Fishing for a compliment, Philip?” She laughed again. “Yes, you’re right. I wouldn’t have come back otherwise. I figured you’d have me strung up by now.”
“I would have, if I’d thought you wanted it too. Adrian’s made up rooms for the two of you.” My heartbeat quickened at the mere mention of me. “You’ll be safe for the night at least.”
“And after?”
I held my breath, waiting. Hoping.
“Don’t press your luck, Shelly,” he said. “One of these days, it’s going to run out.”
It wasn’t much of a promise for the future, but it was all he left her with. I heard his footsteps grow quiet, and then he was gone. Shelly touched my shoulder to wake me, and it wasn’t hard to pretend I was exhausted—because I was.
“Where are we?” I asked even though it wasn’t what I really wanted to know. How long can we stay? How much do you trust Philip?
“Somewhere safe,” was all she said. “Come on, let’s put you to bed.”
I let her take me upstairs to a large room with satin sheets like the ones at the hotel. Except there were no men with dark gazes and dirty hands here. There was only Shelly, her gaze almost tender as she tucked me in.
I curled into a ball beneath the heavy down comforter and pressed my face into the pillow. And pretended I didn’t hear anything when the unmistakable sounds of sex came from down the hall as she paid for my bed tonight.