All the members of that sick sex club are back, and Lara’s bargain is in my head. She offered herself in exchange for what? Gavin sent me to buy Narcan, so who does he have guarding the basement?
Slamming into the passage, I sprint to the basement stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, I reach the bottom and race across the large empty trap room with only my phone for a light. Skidding to a stop at the door leading to the hidden rooms, I grab the handle only to find it locked.
I press my ear to it, but my thudding pulse and rapid breathing are louder than what’s happening inside. When I was here the last time, I could hear music. I could hear the occasional fake orgasm. Now all I hear is silence.
Nobody’s here.
Rolling my back to the door, I look up at the stage floor above. The show is over. I have to get to Lara.
Lara
My dream is coming true, and I’m terrified.
Gavin renamed the show “Bright Angel,” and Roland decided my performance should be me walking around the stage singing all the new songs while my wardrobe changes leave me wearing less and less.
I start with my former innocent angel outfit of pink feathers covering my breasts and large wings on my shoulders. From there it progresses until the finale, where I sashay around the stage, breasts fully exposed and wearing only a thong. A triangle of silk keeps me from being totally nude.
It’s a mixture of my dream come true combined with terror of being in the spotlight and not being able to find Molly. The curtain falls, and I don’t even care about the applause. The fear is back full force, and I hurry to my dressing room.
Pushing through the door, a little cry escapes my lips. Tears blur my vision, but I slam the door, pulling my robe over my body before going to the bed where she lies, curled in a ball and shaking.
“Molly?” My voice wavers. Her lips are cracked and bleeding. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Her eyes are glazed, but looking down, I see blood on her dress. She’s wearing a white sweater dress with leggings, but the leggings are ripped. Large holes are in the front of her thighs and around the back.
The hem of the sweater is dirty with what looks like rust stains, but the closer I look, I realize it’s blood on her skin. Flaky, dry white patches are on her thighs.
“Oh, God, no!” I shriek, covering her with my body.
She shakes harder, but she doesn’t speak to me. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s been drugged or if she has mentally retreated.
Please let her have been drugged. I don’t want her to remember this.
Suddenly she starts to cough. She coughs so much, her face turns red, and she begins to gag. I’m off her at once, running for the small trash bin for her to puke in. She vomits, but only bile comes up. I hold her hair, rubbing circles on her back.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m going to fix this.”
Tears are on my cheeks, but rage twists in my belly.
I jump to my feet, throwing my robe on a chair and grabbing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I take a blanket and wrap Molly in a tight cocoon on the bed. Snatching up my phone, I send Evie a text.
Come to my dressing room now.
“Stay here. I’ll be back,” I whisper, smoothing her russet hair.
Fury drives me down the hallway to that basement room I remember from last night. At the top of the stairs is a narrow red box I’ve never given much thought. Grabbing the metal rod, I break the glass and yank out the small axe inside.
I charge down the steps and cross the trap room, determination driving me. Roland said they’d been sedating that bastard all day. I plan to find him and cut his dick off.
What I don’t expect is to be met at the door by an enormous bouncer. “The girls come in from the other side,” he growls, crossing his massive arms.
“Who are you?” I ask, holding my weapon behind my leg.
“Who are you?” he growls back.
This guy is huge. He’s at least six-four, and his arms are like concrete pillars.
“I’m here to see Guy,” I say, forcing authority into my voice.
“Nobody gets in this way without a card.”
My grip tightens on the handle of the axe, and I realize I haven’t thought this through. Taking a step back, I slam into another body, and just as I spin around, my wrist is caught in an iron-like grip.
“Let go!” I scream when I recognize Guy smiling down at me.
“This is a pleasant surprise. Come to finish what we started?”
“I came to finish you,” I shout, jerking my arm, trying to get it out of his grip.
“Devin, take this.”
The massive bouncer easily rips the axe out of my hand and tosses it into the darkness where it clatters against the concrete floor far away from us.
“We’re not to be disturbed,” he tells the man as he holds up a gold business card.
Devin steps to the side, opening the door for us to pass through.
“No!” I shout, falling back. “This is a mistake!”
We’re through the door, and I see the larger room has been set up for a party. Finger foods sit on small plates with several champagne glasses scattered about. Guy doesn’t stop, he continues down the shorter passage to the room we were in last night.
Throwing me ahead of him, he closes the door behind him and locks it.
“Let me go,” I shout. “I said I’d do this to protect her, and you violated that agreement. You hurt her, and you’re—”
He crosses the room to speak directly in my face. “I told you everything is mine. I took what was mine, and now I’ll take you.”
My voice gurgles as his hand clamps around my throat. Heat floods my face, and my eyes burn.
“That’s right,” he says in a soothing tone.
I gag and claw at his hand, but his grip doesn’t loosen. I twist and beat his forearm, but he’s too strong. I’m losing consciousness. My hands fall weakly at my sides.
“That’s better,” he continues, loosening his grip just as I’m about to pass out.
I gasp and roll to my side on the small sofa, coughing and covering my neck. I can’t speak. My eyes are blurry and my knees weak. It takes several minutes for me to gather my strength, and he stands over me watching the entire time.
“Poor thing. Now look what you made me do,” he says, holding what looks like a glass of water. “Have some water.”
My eyes are on his, but I take it with trembling hands. He watches as I sniff it, but I don’t smell anything.
“Are you afraid to drink it? You think I don’t want you to fight me?”
I take a tiny sip, holding it in my mouth. It tastes like water, so I drink a little more. It’s salty, and it helps my throat.
He walks to the mantle and looks at his phone. “Take a few minutes to catch your breath.”
The longer I sit, the heavier my eyes grow. My jaw feels slack, and my muscles are like jelly. “Liar.” My words are slurred like I’m drunk. “Fucking liar. What was in that?”
My head is spinning, and I hold the arm of the couch to keep me steady.
“Take off your clothes,” Guy orders, then he tosses a black sleep mask at me. “Put that on and get on your knees. I expect you to be ready when I get back.”
“No.” My head falls forward.