Enticed:A Dangerous Connection (Secrets) (6 page)

When I wake up, it’s almost nine thirty and Mom has already left for work. I feel a little guilty that I never got to tell her about today’s appointment, but there’s no time to worry about that now. I have only an hour to get myself completely ready for this important day. Feeling like I’m on fast speed, I hurry to get my hair and makeup right and then I put on the sleeveless black dress, and to my relief it looks rather sophisticated. Very Audrey Hepburn. And I’m sure Mrs. Norbert would approve.

Also, I’ve been practicing walking and sitting, and I really feel like I’m ready. I follow Michelle’s advice and keep the accessories simple. Just my silver locket and my fake diamond-stud earrings. But to give this outfit a little zing, I put on the red high-heeled shoes, and the effect is just right. If this doesn’t wow Marcia and Bryce, then maybe I’m just not cut out for this biz.

With my faux Kate Spade purse, which is the same shade of red as my shoes, I stand outside the apartment complex, feeling a bit conspicuous and overdressed. But thankfully, the black SUV, just like Marcia described yesterday, pulls up and a tall man wearing a dark jacket steps out. “You must be Miss Simi Fremont.” He smiles at me, revealing a shiny gold tooth.

“Yes,” I say nervously. “I am.”

“And I’m Rod. Your driver today.” He opens the back door, takes a little bow, then waves for me to go inside. Feeling very much like a princess, I climb into the vehicle. It’s a late-model SUV with leather upholstery, tinted windows, and video players behind both front seats. An expensive ride, but nice.

Music plays quietly and Rod doesn’t say anything as he drives me through town and then onto the freeway, and although I consider making small talk with him, I’m not sure about the proper protocol with a driver. Instead I just lean back and enjoy the ride. I could so get used to this.

When he exits the freeway, I’m not exactly sure where we are and I didn’t notice the signs, but it doesn’t seem like we’re in Los Angeles yet. And now I’m surprised to see that he’s driving through what looks like a run-down industrial neighborhood. “Is the studio around here?”

“It’s not too far.”

As he continues down a street that doesn’t look the least bit stylish, an uncomfortable rush of panic surges through me. Where am I? And who is this dude? Something feels wrong here.
What if I’m being kidnapped?

Then I tell myself to stop being paranoid and ridiculous. Rod is just taking me to the agency. Maybe it’s a shortcut. Michelle has probably had too much influence on me over the years. She always thinks the boogeyman is around the next corner. But as I survey the graffiti and trash Dumpster and some beat-up cars, I’m not the least bit reassured. What is going on?

“This seems an odd location for a modeling agency,” I venture in a hesitant voice. “Or is this a shortcut?”

“Don’t worry,” he says lightly. “They use this big warehouse to do their photo shoots and screen tests and all that stuff that takes a lot of room. Kind of like a film lot, you know?”

“Oh …” I try to wrap my head around this. I suppose it makes sense. When Mom and I toured Universal Studios, some of the back lots didn’t look that much different than this. I relax a little but still feel wary.

He turns into what seems to be an alley now. “The warehouse is cheaper, too. You know how downtown LA rent can be. Anyway, their real offices are in this swanky high-rise downtown. They’ll probably take you there after you finish your photo shoot. I heard they’re having a special lunch catered for you girls.”

“Oh, yeah … that sounds nice.” I nod, feeling reassured at the mention of other girls. Except that now I feel nervous. What if the other girls have real experience? What if I blow the photo shoot?

He stops the SUV in front of a big, white cement-block building, and pushing the button on what looks like a garage-door opener on his visor, he waits for the big metal door to roll up and then drives the SUV into what looks like a dark hole compared to the bright sunlight out here.

“We have to do off-street parking,” he says as the door goes down behind us. “To keep people from messing with our cars.”

I’m not sure why, but as the garage door goes down, my heart starts to pound wildly. And now the feeling that something is wrong grows even stronger. I don’t know what or why or how, but all my instincts are telling me to run for my life. As I unbuckle the seat belt, I realize this might be an overreaction on my part, and yet somehow I know it’s not. My instincts are yelling at me to get out of here.

I grab my purse, wishing I had my phone out and ready, and reach for the door handle. My plan is to casually step out of the car and look around and, if necessary, I’ll bolt in whichever direction seems best. Except that it’s so dark in here, I still can’t see a thing. I give the door handle a tug and it’s locked. I try and try, but I can’t open it. I feel sick.

“Don’t worry, Simi. I’ll get the door for you.”

“Oh … okay.” I start to open my purse, but before my hand is inside, he reaches back and snatches it from me. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

“What?”
My heart’s pounding so hard, I can feel it in my ears. “What are you doing?”

“You need to understand the rules.” He smiles, but it’s a creepy smile, and his gold tooth gleams eerily in the green light coming from the dashboard.

“The rules?” My mouth is dry and my hands are starting to tremble.

“Yeah. When I let you out of the car, don’t you even think about running.” Now to my horror, he slips a shiny gunlike object out of his jacket and points it directly at me. “This might not look too intimidating, but trust me, a stun gun like this packs a big wallop. If you try to run or scream, it’s gonna hurt.
A lot.
And you don’t wanna get hurt, do you?” His grin is vile.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a shaky voice. “Where are Marcia and Bryce? Why are you acting like this?”

He chuckles as he opens his door. “Don’t you worry, pretty girl. You’re about to meet the dynamic duo.”

As he walks back to open my door, my mind is whirling. Fueled by fear and adrenaline, I must think of a way out. I’ve heard if you’re abducted, your best hope of escape is to make a fast break before your captor gets you to an isolated place. But I’m already in an isolated place. All I can do is pray —
dear God, please, help me! Please, please, help me!

The door jerks open and he reaches in to grab me by the arm, roughly pulling me from the car. “I know you wanna run or maybe scream for help.” He shoves me in front of him, still holding tightly to my arm, twisting it behind my back so hard that I think my shoulder might dislocate. “They all think they can get away. But none of them make it.” He twists my arm tighter. “Believe me, you won’t be the first.”

I stumble forward into the dark space with wobbly knees and teetering heels skidding on the cement. But he is holding on to my arm so firmly, it’s like he’s propelling me forward. It smells oily and dirty in here, like maybe this is an old garage. My head is spinning and I’m afraid I’m about to faint or throw up. Everything feels so unreal — like this is happening to someone else, or perhaps I’m starring in a horror movie.

Suddenly I wonder if all this might actually be a prank. Is this the agency’s way of seeing what I’m really made of? As badly as I wish that were true, I know better.

This is for real.

… [CHAPTER 6]………………

M
y eyes have adjusted to the darkness, so I can see we’re going toward a sliver of light that looks like the bottom of a door. When we reach the door, Rod stops and pulls something from his pocket, then grabbing my other arm, he binds my hands together behind my back. “Just to be safe,” he tells me. And the next thing I know, he pulls a paper bag over my head.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask desperately.

He chuckles evilly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

This is only marginally reassuring. “What are — ?”

“Shut up! If you want to survive this game, you better learn how to keep your mouth shut.” And now I hear a door open and I’m shoved into another space. I can see light through the paper sack and I look down to see dirty yellow linoleum beneath my feet. It smells like old pizza and stale coffee in here.

“There you are,” a woman says. “Right on time.”

I can tell that it’s Marcia, but it makes no sense.

“What are you doing to me?” I demand.

“Shut up!”
Rod yells. “Didn’t you hear what I said out there?”

“That’s right.” Marcia’s voice remains smooth. “Children are meant to be seen and not heard.”

“Well, this child is definitely worth seeing. Nice find, Marcia.”

I recognize Bryce’s voice, but I know better than to say anything now. Instead my mind is racing, trying to think of a way out of this hellish mess. Somehow I have to outsmart these creeps. But what are they doing? Why am I here? What is their game?

“Turn around,” Marcia says.

I just stand there, not sure who she’s talking to.

“I said
turn around
, you stupid girl,” she snaps.
“Now!”

Rod gives me a push and I slowly turn around, nearly stumbling over my own feet and wishing I hadn’t worn high heels. I could so use some running shoes or steel-toed boots right now.

“She’s got good legs,” Marcia says.

“And a great bod,” Bryce adds. “I like the little black dress, too. Nice and classy.”

“Yeah. We could use some classy in this outfit.” Marcia’s laughter sounds vile.

“It’s too bad,” Bryce says. “She might’ve actually made a good model if she’d connected with a real agency.”

“Bite your tongue,” she tells him.

“Just saying.”

“Don’t even go there. As it is we should get top dollar for her.
Top dollar
.”

“Just make sure we keep her in good condition,” Bryce says. “I mean you, Rod. Do not mess with her. No damage to her face. And no bruises, cuts, or scrapes. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got ya.”

“At least until she meets Mr. T,” Marcia injects. “We want to present the goods in tip-top shape.”

“I think you should jack up the price,” Bryce says. “Has Mr. T seen her photos yet?”

“He’s seen them and approved. But I think you’re right. A pretty little ‘good girl’ is a real rarity these days. I’ll send him a message.”

“Tell him we’ve got a bidding war going on.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

“So you better keep her looking good until she’s delivered,” Marcia says. “If she’s damaged in any way, not only will you not get paid, we will expect you to make it up to us.
Understand?
”

“I get it,” Rod says. “I just don’t get it now.”

“After Mr. T, well, we’ll just see how cooperative she wants to be,” Marcia says this for my benefit I’m sure. “Even slightly used, she’ll still be a valuable commodity.”

“We have big plans for you, Simi,” Bryce tells me. “However, you are no longer Simi Fremont.”

“Give me her purse,” Marcia says. I hear Rod walk across the room, and then I’m sure Marcia is going through my things. “Great. Here’s her phone. We know about her mom and Trista and the twins. But we don’t know Michelle’s last name or where she lives yet. You get all that information.”

“I’m already on it,” Bryce says.

“Get rid of the ID. And dump the phone in the usual place.”

“Yeah, yeah … hey, her girlfriend’s last name is Diedericks. With an unusual name like that, it’ll be a cinch to get her address.”

“Why do you want
that
?” I demand.

“Who said you can talk?” Rod shoots back.

“Never mind,” Marcia says. “And really, I don’t care if she knows why we want this info. It’s all a matter of security, Simi. We want to make sure you don’t mess things up for us. Your mom and your friends are simply our insurance that you’ll cooperate fully.”

“If you care about their welfare, you’ll do what you’re told,” Bryce adds.

“Are you threatening to — ?”

“It’s all up to you,” Marcia says in a calm but chilling tone. “Your mom and friends, even the dear little toddler twins — everyone will be just fine as long as you play along nicely. But trust me, doll face, the minute you break the rules, your mom and friends pay the price.
Do you get me?
”

I’m speechless. How can this be real? How can people be so evil?

“Do you get me?”
she growls.

“Yes,” I mutter. “I think so.”

“Good. And don’t think I’m not serious. Rod, maybe you can fill her in on how you’re willing and able to carry out our orders.”

“That’s right. I got no problem going after your mom and your friends. Might even be fun. Especially if mom’s a looker like you.” He lets loose a wicked laugh that makes me feel like vomiting.

I can feel myself swaying now, getting dizzy. “I … need to sit — ”

“Catch her!” Bryce yells.

I feel Rod grab me.

“Get her a chair,” Marcia snaps.

I’m shoved down into a chair and I slump forward and the bag slips off my head. I remain down, pretending like I’ve fainted, but I’m peering through my hair that is over my face, seeing their feet as they hover around me.

Marcia has on ugly beige orthopedic-looking shoes and her ankles are swollen and pouring over the edges, which tells me she’s older. And not exactly the fashion icon I’d imagined while talking on the phone yesterday. Bryce is wearing shiny black loafers and jeans, which leads me to believe he’s somewhat more stylish and younger. They seem a strange pair.

They continue talking about how they plan to trick Mr. T with a bidding war as I sit slumped over. No one seems particularly concerned about me, but I can tell they just think I fainted. Finally I act as if I’m coming to, but before I can sit up, the paper bag is pushed onto my head again.

“Your new name is Serena Delray.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means
from now on you will go by Serena
. How is that not clear?” Her voice drips in irritation. “Are you really that stupid?” She shoves my purse back into my lap. “Your new ID is in there. Not that you should need it. But just in case.”