Heart Of Marley (41 page)

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Authors: T.K. Leigh

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Heart of Brianna

Brianna’s Story

Anticipated Publication 2016

Heartless

Doug’s Story

Anticipated Publication 2017

Turn the page to read an excerpt from
Heart of Light
(Cam’s story) - now available across all retailers

H
EART
O
F
L
IGHT
E
XCERPT

Read the rest of Cam’s journey in Heart Of Light

T
HUMP
. T
HUMP
. S
HE
COULD
swear her heartbeat echoed through the vast hotel suite she had been living in longer than she cared to remember. Years of planning led her to this moment. Nothing could go wrong. If it did, she didn’t want to think about what would happen. Her success depended on everyone playing their part…the head of housekeeping, the bus boy, the room service attendant, the girls, even poor Shelby.

She carefully tiptoed across the living room, carrying just the bare necessities she would need to get as far away as possible. Glancing over her shoulder at the couch where
he
was passed out from the pills the room service attendant had slipped into his food, she knew she didn’t have much longer until he woke up. And she had no intention of being there when he did.

Looking out the peephole into the hallway, she prayed that Shelby was able to entice the two guards normally stationed out there to leave their post. She would never be able to repay her for what she was doing at that very moment…all to help her. A chill ran through her body at the thought, but the girls were right. She didn’t have a choice. She had to get out.

Carefully opening the heavy door, she looked back at
him
. Her heart raced when she saw him move slightly on the couch before he stilled again. She watched as his stomach rose and fell, the occasional snore sounding through her prison. Taking a deep breath, she glimpsed one last time at the man she used to look up to and admire. Now, every time she saw his gentle and attractive features…the chestnut eyes and strong jaw, the distinguished gray hair and broad shoulders…she saw him for what he really was. A monster that destroyed her very existence.

She crept into the hallway, thankful to be one step closer to her freedom. But she still had to get out of the hotel before anyone discovered that she was missing.

“You’re five minutes late, Jolene, baby,” an older black woman said, rushing up to her and pushing a laundry cart.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get out on time, but it took a bit longer for those pills to work on him,” Jolene whispered as she crawled into the cart. “Probably from all the shit he does regularly.” She took a calming breath as she covered herself with old laundry sheets and bath towels, the musty smell making her gag.

“It’s okay, darling. We’re almost done here. We’ll get you out safe.” Rosa pushed the cart down the hallway toward the service elevator.

“What’s going on here?” a loud, booming voice called out.

Rosa looked up, trying to hide her nerves. “Just bringing these dirty sheets to the laundry downstairs, sir,” she said, mindful of the gun peeking out of the large man’s jacket. She hated working at that hotel, but she didn’t have a choice. She was those girls only hope of escape.

“Isn’t that supposed to be done in the afternoon? It’s past midnight.”

“I know, sir, but we were short-staffed today.” She shook in fear. No one was allowed on the top floor after nine at night. That was when
he
held his little poker games, auctioning the girls off to whomever offered the most money. It broke Rosa’s heart knowing that, just beyond the hallway’s walls, the girls were dying a little bit more inside.

“It’s getting done now,” she continued, her voice turning strong once more.

“Fine,” the large man said, a scowl crossing his face. “Get on with it then. Don’t make this a habit. I really don’t want to involve the boss in this shit.” He walked away.

Rosa breathed a sigh of relief and continued to push the laundry cart down the long corridor toward the service elevator. “It’s okay, baby girl. Almost there,” she whispered quietly as the doors opened.

But not quietly enough.

“Who are you talking to?” The large man spun around, running toward the elevator just as the doors closed, banging on the metal exterior in frustration. He had a bad feeling about tonight, particularly after noticing that Mr. Falconi’s bodyguards were not stationed outside of his suite.

Grabbing his phone, he dialed a number. “Joe. It’s me. Get someone down to laundry. Check the cart the maid is pushing.” He hung up and walked in the direction of his boss’ suite. Nervously, he knocked on the door.

“Boss, you in there?”

Nothing.

No response.

“Tony. It’s Ralph. You got Jolene in there with you?”

Still no sound. No rustling. No movement.

“Okay. I’m coming in.” He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t interrupting anything between his boss and his girl. Grabbing his universal keycard, he slid it in the slot and slowly opened the door. His eyes grew wide when he observed his boss passed out on the couch in the living room, the room service tray scattered on the floor in front of him.

He drew his gun, scanning the suite for any sign of what could have happened.

“Jolene!” he yelled. “Where are you, princess?!”

He made his way toward the second bedroom, hoping that Falconi had instructed Jolene to take a client in there instead of one of the other rooms. His heart dropped when the door was wide open, the extravagant bedroom distressingly empty.

He ran into the room, checking everywhere for some sort of indication as to what could have happened. In the back of his mind, he knew that Jolene was gone.

Returning to the living area, he grabbed a bottle of scotch off the wet bar and poured himself a drink, hoping that Joe had stopped the bitch maid with the laundry cart. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to tell his boss that his girl was gone. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to find her.

~~~~~~~~~~

“J
UST
A
FEW
MORE
minutes, Jolene, baby,” Rosa said, looking into the rearview mirror of the old station wagon at the still body covered with ratty blankets. “Patrick is inside getting your bus ticket, so you’ll be free of this place in just a little bit,” she explained, her chin quivering.

She was relieved that she got Jolene out of the hotel without raising any more suspicion. A bus boy that had helped Rosa from time to time was able to hide her in a storage closet leading to the loading dock before any of the boss’ guys came to search the laundry cart. It all worked out just as they had hoped. Only a few people actually knew about what really went on in the hotel late at night, and even those who knew pretended they didn’t. It was too dangerous any other way, but that didn’t discourage Rosa. It was just by chance that she saw Jolene that day over a decade ago.

She wasn’t yet sixteen when she first met her. She was sweet and had just lost her mama. Jolene had told Rosa all about how Mr. Falconi was a friend of her mama’s and was granted custody of her until she turned eighteen. She seemed so excited to be able to live in the glamorous hotel on Michigan Avenue that Falconi used as a front for his less than legitimate businesses, mainly gambling and forced prostitution. Rosa had her doubts from the beginning, the girl’s sparkling blue eyes reminding her of a ghost from years ago. Then poor Jolene turned eighteen and her life changed forever. She was forbidden from ever leaving the hotel again, locked in
his
suite. And it had been nearly ten years.

She had helped a few other girls escape in the past, but never the boss’ girl. They said it couldn’t be done, but Jolene was sweet and the other girls wanted her to be free. Now, she almost was. Once that bus left the station outside of Chicago with Jolene safely on board, she would finally be free…something she hadn’t experienced in over a decade.

Rosa saw a tall black man walking, determined, toward the car, thankful to see her husband clutching the bus ticket in his hand. He opened the door, his breathing labored from the adrenaline coursing through his body.

“Everything go okay?” she asked.

“I suppose, if your idea of okay is half of your boss’ men stopping everyone inside that place.”

Rosa’s eyes flashed toward the brightly lit building. “How did they figure out we’d be here? We chose this station for a reason, just in case they caught on. I was certain they’d check the one downtown first.”

“I don’t know, but they’re questioning the ticket agents about whether anyone has seen her. They have her photo, for crying out loud! This could be bad.”

“I don’t have any other choice,” a sweet voice rang out from the back of the car. “I can’t go back there,” Jolene sobbed. “Never again. I would rather die than have to…”

“Hush, Jolene, baby,” Rosa said, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “We’ll get you on that bus and out of here.”

Patrick glanced at his wife. “Rosa, it’s only a matter of time until they put the pieces together and realize we were behind all of it.” His voice was full of concern…and fear. “Are you sure this is a smart idea?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “It’s the least I can do.” A tear fell from her eye just thinking about what all those girls were forced to endure. “How would you feel if that was our daughter? Wouldn’t you want someone to help her?”

Patrick hung his head in defeat. “I certainly would.”

“Okay, then. Let’s do this. You got the wig on, baby girl?” Rosa asked.

“Yes. I’m ready,” Jolene responded, thankful that Rosa had thought of everything. She had packed some clothes from the lost and found at the hotel that fit Jolene perfectly. She had also grabbed an auburn-colored wig from her sister’s hair salon that looked more natural on her than the blonde hair she was forced to have to make
him
happy. That’s what he liked on her. Blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Okay, Jolene, baby, you know I love you. And I’m going to miss our chats, but you need to get far away from this city. I don’t ever want to see you again, you hear?” she choked out through her tears.

Jolene nodded, trying to stay strong. She was so thankful for everything that Rosa had done for her. She never thought she would be free, and here she was, seconds away from never having to bend to another man’s will for the rest of her life.

“Thank you, Rosa.” She climbed out from under the blanket.

Rosa glanced back and the two women shared a look…a look that said everything Jolene wanted to, but didn’t have nearly enough time to utter.

“Go, baby girl. Live your life and don’t ever come back to this awful place.”

Jolene wiped the tears from her cheeks and crawled out of the car.

Patrick accompanied her the short distance to the bus, turning to face her just outside of the door. He scanned the area for any suspicious activity, knowing that not only her life was at risk if they were caught.

“Here you go.” He handed her a ticket. “Stay safe. And, as much as you may want to,
do not
let us know where you end up. There’s an e-mail address on the back of the ticket. If you want to let us know that you made it somewhere and are safe, that’s how you do it. Other than that, do not contact anyone directly. Do you understand?”

Nodding her head, she bit her lower lip, wishing she would be able to talk to one of the only friends that she felt she had, but she knew she couldn’t. Once she arrived somewhere, she had to stay hidden. It was the only way.

She looked down at the ticket, wondering where she was headed. Miami, Florida. At least she was going somewhere with no snow. Flipping the ticket over, she made out the e-mail address.

“Last call for Miami!” a man sounded on the intercom.

“Get going now,” Patrick said. “Remember, don’t take the bus to the end of the line. Get off somewhere before the final destination. It will increase your chances of never being found.” He held out his hand for Jolene to grab on to so he could help her up the stairs.

She stared at it, slowly stepping back, a look of trepidation in her brilliant blue eyes.

Patrick shook his head and watched as she boarded the bus, wondering why every one of the girls he had helped escape cowered in fear of being touched. He could only imagine what they had suffered through to cause that reaction.

Less than a minute later, the doors closed and the bus turned out of the station with Jolene on it, heading south and away from all the horror and misery of the last decade of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~

S
ENATOR
D
AVID
M
URPHY
DISCREETLY
left Falconi’s luxurious Landmark Hotel on Michigan Avenue, making his way down the dark side alley where his driver was to pick him up. No one could know that he spent tax dollars going to the hotel, not when he had an apartment in the city that the taxpayers already provided him. People would get suspicious as to why he spent so much of his time there. He was a happily married man, after all. A scandal like this would ruin his career, especially when his entire campaign platform was based on re-instilling family values and the sanctity of marriage.

Some would say he could be called a hypocrite, but he was a man… A man with needs that had gone grossly unsatisfied most of his life.

When running for state office, his advisor recommended he start a family. He hated having to date and play the sweet, caring individual. That wasn’t who he truly was. But voters loved a family man, so that’s what he became, although he couldn’t remember the last time he played catch with his son, or had a pretend tea party with his daughter. And his wife… Well, they hadn’t been intimate in years. She wasn’t nearly as adventurous as he needed.

He was thankful to have met Anthony Falconi early on in his political career at a fundraiser for an organization fighting against human trafficking. Falconi was a deeply religious man and contributed a substantial amount to his campaign. One night after his victory party for winning the race for state office, David enjoyed quite a few drinks with Falconi. Rather drunk, Falconi invited him up to his penthouse. That was the first time he saw Jolene. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Once she turned eighteen a decade ago, he had been returning to Falconi’s Chicago Landmark Hotel as much as possible for her, even after he won election to the U.S. Senate and was supposed to be in the nation’s capital, expected to participate in mundane tasks such as solving the country’s budget issues.

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