“So, I said yes. I told Bruno that it was no problem. For triple the pay, I could do kink.” She lowered her gaze to the carpet.
I put a finger under her chin and raised her gaze to meet mine. “Don’t, Chantilly. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“They wanted us at five o’clock, so I had my sitter take my girl to dinner while I got ready. I was gone by the time they got back. I was supposed to meet Trixie and Magnolia in the bar of the Fritz, and when we were all there, text Bruno for the room number and information. So, that’s what I did. While we sat in the lounge having a cocktail, a bad feeling ran through me. Something felt off, but it was a big job. Who was I to complain?”
She stood and walked toward the bar, bracing herself against it but not looking at me. “We got the room number and headed up. It was the penthouse, of course, and as soon as we rang the buzzer, my stomach dropped. Everything felt wrong, especially when some foreign servant dude opened the door.” She sucked in another big breath. “Can I take a drink?”
“Of course.”
Pouring herself a few fingers of my Johnny Walker Black, she tossed it back like a pro. I watched her body still with the burn, afraid to move myself.
“It was a full-on mess when we walked in. Lines of coke on the table, four men sprawled on the sofas, music turned up loud, TVs on, A/C going full blast. Their shirts were open, and Trixie sighed at the sight of their muscled chests like she’d hit pay dirt. One of the guys on the couch stood up and welcomed us, then pointed toward the table. Trixie made for the table and snorted a line or two. He asked Magnolia and me if we wanted a drink, and we nodded. He asked if we wanted champagne, and we said sure.”
Chantilly moved around my office, prowling mostly, seeming uncomfortable with her fresh bruises on display. She kicked off her heels and padded barefoot.
“By the time he got us our drinks, Trixie was already in the lap of one of the other men with her tits in his mouth and his hands down the back of her shorts. The first guy came back with our drinks and asked us to sit down. Said his name was Rahm and asked me my name, but wasn’t interested in Mags and Trix at all. Then he put his hand on my knee and whispered in my ear that he’d put something in the drinks to make it all a little more fun. I didn’t hesitate. I just tilted my glass over and poured it out on the carpet.”
“Holy shit!” I jumped up and went to her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight. “You need to see a doc? You got something in your stomach?”
I wasn’t even worried about the dudes at that moment, just Chantilly. Christ, she had a daughter. I didn’t even know her name and where to find her if something happened to her mom.
“No, no. I’m fine. I didn’t take that many sips before I drained the whole glass on the Oriental rug. I don’t do drugs. Like I said, I got a daughter. But this dude, Rahm, went fucking ape-shit, Mike. Grabbed my arm and dragged me toward one of the bedrooms screaming, ‘You’ll not disrespect me, blondie bitch. I told your boss we have our way with the girls the way we want. And if I want to fuck your ass with my whole fist up your cunt while you’re on X, then that is what I’m doing.’ I kept yelling for him to let me go, but he wouldn’t.”
“Jesus Christ, I need to talk with this Bruno.” I let out a long breath. He needed to understand his girls were people, not pawns.
“It gets worse, Michael.”
I wasn’t sure what made my gut clench even more—her calling me Michael, or the part about it getting worse.
“When I tried to jerk loose, he screamed, ‘That other cunt bitch wasn’t into it at first either, but now little Miss Lincoln is quite happy with her arrangement.’ And then he hauled off and sucker punched me.”
The room spun, and I had to bend over and clutch my stomach. The few shots of whiskey I did earlier were coming back up, racing up my throat, accompanied by a scream.
“What else did he say?” I forced out, my words raspy.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Nothing. I ran. I’m sorry, Michael.”
On the verge of a panic attack, I went to comfort the brutalized woman in my office. It wasn’t her fault. I wanted to be mad that she didn’t stay and ask more questions, get me something concrete. But it wasn’t in me to be that way.
“Come on. Take a shower and get cleaned up,” I told her. “We have to go see Bruno.”
ASI listened to the shrill sound of the shower pounding behind the closed bathroom door, I poured myself a stiff drink. Letting the amber liquid burn through my body, I prayed for it to relax me. It didn’t.
I was drinking too much. After I found Lynx, I was going to cut back. The shit was barely taking the edge off these days. Then again, when I got my girl back, I wouldn’t need alcohol.
Doubtful, but I was optimistic.
Grabbing my phone off the desk, I texted Carson.
MIKE: I got info, my man.
Unable to sit still, I paced my little lair while I waited for a response.
CARSON: Give me a minute, and I’m gonna call you.
MIKE: Not now. Got one of Lynx’s former coworkers in my office.
CARSON: Oh man, don’t go there.
