Invidious Betrayal (7 page)

Yeah…that’s it, that’s all, done.

But what had Lace done to get the boss’s attention in the minute it took her to get to the front door and leave the mansion?

It didn’t matter. Sal grinned,
as long as I’m in the clear
. The boss wanted a girl for the kid, and he’d gotten a girl. Ian had the time of his life, and that’s what the boss would focus on. Things got a little cloudy at the end, but it was all good. Who the girl actually was...well that was of no consequence.

Sal hated that he’d had to inject the kid with any drug while he had alcohol in his system, let alone the shit he was using on the girl, but the kid had manhandled his men. Who knew that Ian had taken that martial arts shit so seriously?

“You think you know someone,” he said, then shrugged as he walked down the hall.

Sal pushed open the door to the bedroom where his men had dumped Ian. He momentarily froze before he turned and bolted back down the hallway.

“No, no, no,” he chanted. His shit-eating grin had faded.

Sal pushed open the door where his new favorite piece of ass was tied up, recuperating from another ride he’d taken before he’d stumbled into the bedroom down the hall to rest a bit. Only she was no longer on the bed. He pulled his ear-com out of his shirt pocket, placed it in his ear, and tapped on it. When he heard the beep he blurted “The fucking girl is gone. I think the kid took her, and if they’ve cleared the property, all our asses are on the hook!”

When Sal backed into the hallway, he backed into someone. Already in a rage, he spun around to tongue lash the idiot who had the gall to get in his way—fuck him up too—but the words dissolved in his throat. The two men that stood in front of him weren’t his men. They were Jasper’s.

Fuck!

“The Boss wants to see you so we’re your shadows until he gets back in town.” The larger of the two men told him.

Fuuuucccck
!

The Present

Ian paced the small motel room for an entire hour before finally sitting in a tiny chair which belonged to a small kitchenette that sat under a window. He’d also looked at his cell phone a hundred times it seemed, since leaving the mansion a little over five hours ago. He hadn’t replaced the battery or powered it up since turning it off in the car. He’d driven around with the girl in the passenger seat, thinking of what to do. When nothing came to him he’d paid for a motel room, the kind that smelled like stale air and the plumbing rattled when you turned the faucet off.

He reached over and gently rubbed his thumb over the girl’s hand while he held it in his own. Several times he’d gotten to his feet to get a washcloth. He wanted to clean her up but he didn’t want to leave her side. Hell, his being here with her was probably not a good idea. She’d been brutalized, and she looked awful. He should have taken her to the hospital, but she was so adamant about not going. So much so that she would rather jump from a moving car than let him take her.

She hadn’t moved the entire time they’d been in the room, and he was beyond worried. She’d clearly been drugged and he knew what that felt like first hand. Sal had stuck a syringe in his neck and had him placed in a room down the hall where those assholes had tossed him on a sofa. His hearing, vision, and sense of touch hadn’t been affected, but he’d been completely immobile. His stomach lurched at the realization that she’d probably been similarly aware of whatever they’d done to her and couldn’t fight back.

He lowered his head and gently squeezed her hand, knowing the part he’d played. When her dainty fingers wrapped around his, Ian lifted his head as her hand suddenly jerked away. Without warning, the girl rolled away from him and stood on the other side of the bed with her fists up and ready to fight.

Ian braced himself, prepared for her to freak out. He stood with his hands up in the universal “surrender” motion. “I’m not going to hurt you…anymore,” he whispered, as he stared into her eyes.

She stared at him for awhile, looking him over as if he were an alien. Then she backed up until the wall prevented her from moving any farther. With the wall to her back, she looked around the room. Her gaze swept over the bed, the table and two chairs, and the door. Then she focused on him again, with the same wild gaze he’d seen right before she tried to jump out of the car.

“You need a hospital,” he told her. His words did exactly what he wanted. They’d distracted her from bolting, but they also brought back her awareness of the situation.

The pain in her eyes intensified, but Ian saw understanding in them, too. She knew the state she was in. It was even more evident when she slumped to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. For a minute or so, Ian allowed her to sit naked on the carpet, then he took the sheet from the bed, wrapped it around her, and lifted her in his arms.

When she began to struggle, Ian placed her gently on her feet. He saw the moment her expression changed from fear to anger and when her hand rose he made no moves to stop it as he stared into her haunted, yet beautiful face. He deserved what she was about to do and more. Her palm connected soundly with the side of his face and he took the blow, only flinching because of the anger and hurt he saw in her eyes. She continued to slap him until she rocked on her feet, seemingly tired from the effort and unable to lift her arm anymore. Her sobs had grown louder through her assault and her tears had to be blinding her as they filled her eyes and overflowed.

Ian felt helpless. When she began pounding on his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She stiffened against him for a brief moment, then laid her head on his chest and continued to cry. Ian lifted her in his arms again and had planned to lie her down on the bed and return to the chair, but the way she snuggled into him and cried made his heart ache. He couldn’t let her cry without comfort. Not after what he’d done to her. He didn’t know what all had happened to her, but the bruises spoke volumes. She’d been through a nightmare.

Ian cradled the girl in his arms as he sat on the bed, using the headboard as a backrest. “You really need to be taken to the hospital,” he told her after she’d cried for an hour straight. She shook her head, but didn’t move from his chest. He shouldn’t have been thinking of how soft she felt in his arms, but his mind had three settings: knowledge, physical training, and women. The first two he was exceptional in. The third he did fairly well. “You’re not a prostitute, are you?” She shook her head again. “I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know. I would have never touched you if I’d known.” His confession brought on more sobbing that lasted another twenty minutes. Then without saying a word, she got to her feet, walked to the bathroom, and closed the door.

Aria wasn’t sure how he had gotten her away, but she was relieved. Her Golden Boy—Ian was what they’d called him—had come through for her. She knew it was him because his scent was clean, with a whisper of wealth. Plus, he didn’t smell like alcohol or cigarettes. Also his voice was smooth, refined, unlike the others. Their voices were husky, raw, and held a promise of menace. Ian’s was different. He was cultured, probably pampered, and most likely a silver spoon kid. He was also the kind of guy who wouldn’t give her a second look under normal circumstances.

To wake and find him sitting beside her, touching her, Aria wanted to scratch out his eyes. She wanted to castrate him for raping her. She wanted to hate him like she hated the others. She wanted him dead. But as she looked over herself in the mirror, she felt defeated. She hadn’t been able to muster the venom to do him any real harm. After all, he’d gotten her away from them and brought her here—wherever here was. No, all her spite was for the assholes who had viciously raped and humiliated her. The ones who spat on her and smacked her until her lip split, and choked her until she passed out.

The thought of them, and what they had done to her, caused Aria’s stomach to churn. She almost didn’t get the toilet seat up before spilling out its contents. When Aria finished she stood, grabbed some tissues and wiped her mouth. There was no point in looking at her image again, so she turned from the mirror before she could.

Numbness was all she felt. Her body ached in so many places, but it was as if she was outside herself. It was obvious that the person she had been was gone, and she didn’t think that girl would ever return.

Cole’s don’t dwell, we cope
.
Cope not crumble
.

The urgency with which she moved to turn the shower on in the small bathroom was nothing compared to how quickly she stepped under the spray and washed. It took Aria almost an hour in the shower before she felt she was sort of clean. She thought that once she got home and took a long, scorching-hot bath to burn their residue away, she would still only be halfway there.

Only, I can’t go home looking like this
, she thought as she peered at her damp, somewhat cleaner reflection in the mirror. Her left cheek was bright red, and in some places dark purple. A hand print with four emphasized fingers and one thumb was clearly recognizable on her throat. Her nipples, wrists, and ankles were all red and also growing darker. And her vagina, oh my god—using the bathroom was so painful that she clinched her fists when the need arose. Just walking to the bathroom had been extremely uncomfortable. She needed a good soak, a few pain pills, and her bed.

Actually she probably needed a lot more than a soak, pills and rest. A series of medical tests, the morning after pill, and an elephant-sized needle full of antibiotics topped the list in her mind, but she couldn’t go to the hospital. Doing so would result in her father being called, and he would know what happened to her. Everyone would know. No, she couldn’t go to the hospital. Aria shook her head as if solidifying her resolve. The free clinic was her only option. She’d tell them that she’d had unprotected sex and needed a full work-up of testing.

Laura Greene, a sophomore she knew from cooking class, had a scare last year and had told virtually anyone who would listen about how easy it had been to get blood work, test results, and medication from the free clinic. If Aria was somehow pregnant, she would get an abortion—she ignored how easy it was for her to make such a big decision and move on.

If she had some disease, she prayed it was something an antibiotic could cure. Aria couldn’t let herself think about diseases that couldn’t be cured with a simple pill or shot. All she knew was that no one, especially her father, could find out what she’d let happen to her.

Another thought occurred to her.
What if he won’t let me go home
? What if she was wrong about her supposed savior? He had raped her just as they all had. He had been first—should it matter that he hadn’t beat her like the others? Did it matter that while Sal and his goons assaulted her, they’d also plotted against Ian?

According to what she’d heard
and
his reaction, Ian had nothing to do with her being there. He’d unknowingly participated in her rape because he’d thought she was a willing participant, a prostitute. Her stomach churned once again as she remembered the conversation after the one named Sal finished with her the first time around.

Drugged and both physically and mentally exhausted, she’d laid uncovered and exposed while Sal acted as if she wasn’t even there while he answered his phone and spoke to someone named Vincent. Sal didn’t care about being overheard. He spoke freely and what he said indicated that she was never leaving that room alive, but Aria couldn’t find the strength to care at the time.

Apparently, no one counted on Ian helping her. She briefly thought about all the horrible things Ian could do to her now, but quickly dismissed them. There was one thing she knew—she was safer with this Ian guy than she was with Sal.

Aria sighed when she noticed her tangled, quickly-drying hair. She would give a toe for a brush right now. “My purse,” she whispered. That’s when she remembered her purse and where she’d left it. Before going inside that party with Gail, she’d left her purse in that bitch’s car. Aria squeezed her hands into a fist and shut her eyes tight. Now she knew the truth—Gail had sold her to those beasts. How could Gail do that to her? How could those animals do what they did to her?