Selling Scarlett (47 page)

Of course.

Belatedly, I want to shut my eyes, but his gaze is already on me. “What do you think?” He spreads his arms out. “You like your comfy little Mexican hideaway?”

I swallow back a string of curse words. I need to appear calm or he might put me back to sleep. “My wrists hurt,” I answer.

“I didn't ask about your wrists. I asked about your room.” He looks up at the cracked ceiling. “Believe it or not, this is big shit in Mexico.”

“Where are we?” I ask him.

He grins, looking genuinely amused. “You think I'm telling you? All you need to know is this is where we sell 'em. You'll fetch a good price. He may, too,” he says, nodding at Cross's broad back. “He's got nice blue eyes.”

Hearing this news, I feel nothing. Maybe I'm in shock. The only thought I have is that I want to get more information from him. Not want to, have to. I have to stay in control if I want to get away. I try a simple statement. “You killed Sarabelle.”

“Only because I had to,” Lockwood says, hooking his thumbs through his belt-loops. “I was gonna take her here to market but she got too frisky. Conniving little pussy. Acted like she was going to give me head and bit my cock.” He grimaces, fondling himself, and I grit my teeth. “Sarabelle, she wasn't like the last one, little Miss Lucky.”

When he says her name, I remember it. She was the escort who went missing a little while before Sarabelle. I raise my eyebrows and paste on a surprised, slightly impressed look. “You took Ginnifer Lucky, too?”

Lockwood nods, standing up a little taller. “She fetched a good price. But you…well, they're paying better these days. All that drug money.” He grins, revealing stained teeth.

I try my best to keep my disgust off my face. I want to sound curious, keep him talking but not make him mad. “You're the one behind Missy King, too, aren't you?”

At the mention of her name, his eyes dance. “Missy? Yeah, I sold her. She's still in country, actually. Somewhere,” he says, grinning. “She was a good fuck, that little Missy. Spirited. Gave the governor trouble, that's what happened to that little lady. Bet she's keeping some Mexican drug lord real happy.”

That thought makes my stomach church. “What's the point of selling Cross and I? People will notice we’re gone. If you need the money that badly, I recently came into some—”

He interrupts me with a coarse laugh. “I was disappointed to see the deal was already done.” I really might be sick this time. I clench my legs together and ignore the humiliation I feel. So far, the shirt's still covering my goods, but if I move, it won't be. This is a man who raped Sarabelle. “You would have fetched a much higher price yesterday.”

“I have money!” I say desperately.

He snickers. “We're moving you two downstream because you're all up in our business. And I do mean business. Tail like yours goes for high dollar.” He grins, like he's proud of himself, and I squeeze my legs a even closer together.

Lockwood is definitely leering at me. He walks a little closer to my bed, so when Priscilla strolls through the door, I actually feel almost glad.

“How's our prince and princess?” she asks.

Lockwood's dark eyes rove over her body, clad in a skin-tight black dress, before he glances back at me. “This one's a Curious Cassie.”

I scowl at Priscilla. “I can't believe you help him sell women into sex slavery.”

She laughs. “You over-estimate my moral code, darlin'. Besides, sex with strangers isn't as bad as you think.”

“It is when you’re forced to do it!”

She gives me a patronizing grin. “I guess you’ll find out.”

“I just don't understand,” I say evenly. “What’s in this for you?”

“You should know I’m not in it for the money,” she chides. “In fact, I’m usually not involved in Michael's extracurriculars at all. But this situation needed some tidying up.”

“I used to work for that kid’s dad,” Lockwood says, pointing at Cross. “Missy was his mistress before she started wanting too much. I had worked for him in security, and then I moved to Vegas to work in the porn biz. Priscilla wanted the governor and after a night of drinkin' she and I got the idea. It was really more my idea,” he says with a little nod. “The governor asked me to take care of it, and, like that—” he snaps “—a new enterprise was born.”

“I never liked her anyway,” Priscilla says. She rolls her eyes, like Missy was
such a twat
, and I realize she’s psycho. They both are.

“But you dated!” I exclaim to Lockwood.

“More like fucked.” He shrugs. “It made it even easier to get her across the border. She never knew what was coming.”

“And after that, Governor Carlson got to be with me,” Priscilla says.

“He didn't stay with you,” I point out.

“Yes he did.” She grins. “He just got better at sneaking around.”

I don’t know what to do with this information. I glance at Cross, glad he’s still asleep, and then a horrible thought occurs to me. “His father doesn’t know about this, does he?”

Priscilla shakes her head. “Definitely not, but if he did, I’m not sure he’d try to stop me. I’ve got enough dirt on him to fill the Grand Canyon.”

I need time to process all of this, but time I do not have.

“Why is Hunter involved?”

She shrugs. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, really.” She knocks Lockwood with her hip, and I want to vomit. “Besides, it's Michael's fault, not mine. I have restraint. He doesn't. When he heard what I did to your cocky little poker player, he made a rash decision, and then I had to cover for him. If he gets charged with something, it could lead back to Carlson.”

As Priscilla explains things to me, Lockwood pulls her dress aside and kisses her breasts. “Oh, hell yeah.”

He starts to hump her, and she steps back, leaving him panting like a horny dog. “Do you know what time it is?” she asks him.

“We've still got an hour,” he says.

“Until what?” I nearly shriek.

Priscilla smiles. “Don't you like surprises?”

Lockwood laces his fingers through hers, and together they leave the room. Cross is still asleep. My mind is racing. I can't believe what Cross's father did. I can’t believe Priscilla is such a monster. I can’t believe we’re trapped here. Everything about this situation is horrible.

Hunter. Where are you?

I try to wake up Cross. I call his name, I try to talk to him, I even since Katy Perry songs. He hates Katy Perry. I'm thrilled when, after only a few minutes, he rolls onto his back, giving me a full view of his unbound hands. Why didn't they tie him? His eyes flutter at the ceiling, and he grimaces like he's in pain.

“Cross?”

He moans, then rolls back on his stomach. Crap!

I hear Priscilla's voice outside and she comes back in, holding a bottle opener. She opens a cooler on the other side of Cross's bed and pulls out a bottle of beer.

“What did you give him?” I ask as she opens it.

She shrugs. “A tranquilizer. Not everyone has a good reaction to it.”

“What do you mean, not everyone has a good reaction?!” I've managed to sit halfway up now. I jerk against the binds around my wrists. I want to slap her.

With another shrug and not a glance my way, Priscilla saunters out of the room. “Cross,” I call.

He moans. “Cross, wake up! Please!”

But he doesn't move or say another word. Why did I take him with me to Hunter's house? He said he wanted to see the outside world, and I didn't think it would take longer than an hour. I try not to feel too guilty, though. That was my first chance to have sex. So what if I took it? It's not my fault a crazy guy kidnapped us.

I push my breath out. Suck in another one.

It's okay. At least I won’t die a virgin.

I laugh out loud. Only for a second, but it’s enough to draw Lockwood’s attention. He saunters back sans hat, giving me a full view of his rotten, shit-eating grin.

I glare at him. “What's happening in an hour?”

“The buyers are coming.”

“To get me and Cross?”

He shrugs. “Maybe just you. Depends on if they want a guy.”

“And if they don't?”

“Maybe I'll cook him and eat him.” I can feel the blood drain from my face. Lockwood bursts out laughing. It's jerky and gaspy, and makes him sound kind of like a choking bird. “Naw. Naw. That's not the plan.”

“You tried to kill him, didn't you? That's why you didn't tie his hands.” Horror washes through me as I realize this makes sense.

He nods. “Nothing personal. But he knows things he shouldn’t.”

“How do you know he knows?” I challenge.

“His father told Priscilla. She don't keep secrets for anybody.”

Of course. Freakin' Priscilla. Oh my God, I want to slap that bitch.

From somewhere behind me, I hear a clock ticking. I guess it's mounted on the wall. “How much longer?” I ask Lockwood. It's kind of ridiculous to ask, but I figure why not.

His gaze drifts over my head. “Looks like about thirty-seven minutes, seniorita.”

I shut my eyes, and a minute later, I hear a rustling in the cooler, followed by his footsteps and the closing of the door.

Holy cow. This is really about to happen. I'm really getting sold! Not my V-card;
me
. I strain my abs and get myself half-sitting. I pull against the binds so hard my wrists sport blood-red lines. I've got to do something!

As I work my wrists against the rope, the ticking of the clock threatens to drive me crazy.

Try as I might, I just can't undo the freakin’ knot! It's complicated and tight.

I wiggle my ankles. Nothing.

I'm lying there, praying and trying to regulate my breathing, when I hear a moan. My eyes flip open. “Cross!”

He sits up, looking dazed, and I think I might pass out from glee.

“Cross,” I hiss, trying harder to be quiet. “Come untie me!”

He blinks at me, and my heart sinks as I realize he's not really seeing me.

“Cross,” I whisper. “It's me—Lizzy! I need your help!”

He blinks, the slack look on his face never changing as he rolls his shoulder. Squinting, he looks slowly around the room. “I feel...stiff.” His voice is croaky. His eyes wander over the ceiling and the walls, and then finally to me. They widen. “Lizzy?” He flinches as he notices my binds, and I can see some of the stupor fading. “What the hell is going on?”

“You don't remember?”

He frowns. “I fell asleep, waiting for you.” He looks around the room again, but I hiss. “Cross! Come and untie me! I'll explain later, but you have to untie your feet and then help me!”

He swallows as he blinks down at his feet. He leans over, placing one palm on his ankle, and I urge him, “C'mon! You've gotta move fast!”

“Okay.” He gives me a concerned look while his fingers grapple with the rope. “Damn,” he mutters, “I'm thirsty.”

“I'm so sorry, Cross. But Priscilla Heat and Jim Gunn have us!”

His eyes bug out. “Holy fuck.” He grits his teeth and goes harder at the ropes on his ankles. “Where are we?” he asks while he works.

“Mexico.”