The second I realize there’s no office here, I pull my hand from his and take a step backward toward the building. Tony stops and looks back at me with a raised eyebrow. “Is something wrong?"
“This isn’t your office,” I say, trying to sound confident and not like I’m about to pee my pants in fear.
He smirks as he turns to face me fully. I sense the other men and glance around, seeing all the men who had been with him in the bar have come outside, too. There must be at least a dozen of them, and they’re surrounding me.
“No, but I’m going to take you there. It’s at our home.”
“Can’t we do it here?” I ask, glancing around as my hands start to tremble.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
“You think I carry a camera, printer, and laminator around with me?” He raises an eyebrow, and I take a second to think about it. It would be stupid to think he could give me a realistic-looking ID without the proper equipment. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“Will it take long?” I ask, hoping it can at least be done in under an hour, so I can get back to my terrible motel and away from them quickly.
“No, don’t worry, tiny. I’ll takegoodcare of you.” Was it just me, or did he put a little too much emphasis ongood? “Come on, my bike is right here. I’ll even let you wear the helmet. In fact, I insist you do.”
He steps over to a large motorcycle and opens a pack at the side, pulling out a helmet and holding it out for me.
Even though my entire body is screaming DON’T DO IT, I move toward him and take the helmet. I have terrible instincts, so I can’t trust them. Besides, there is no plan B. It’s just one hour, then I can go anywhere and be free of Robert and Ivan forever.
He helps me get the helmet on, then lifts me by my waist, making me squeak, as he places me on the back of his bike. I have to quickly rearrange my dress so I’m not flashing him, and once he takes a seat in front of me and pushes his bike fully upright, kicking back the kickstand, he turns his head and tells me, “Move closer and wrap your arms around me.”
I do as he says as he starts the bike, and when we start moving, I grip him tighter, afraid of falling off. After a few minutes, my tension begins to fade. If it wasn’t for the circumstances or the company, I might actually enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, I’m not exactly thrilled with either.
I’m pleased it only takes ten minutes to reach his place. But I expected a house. This place is a compound. We roll up a gravel driveway, if you can even call it that, and park in front of several attached buildings that look more like a warehouse than a home.
“You live here?” I ask as he switches the bike off.
“Yes, now scoot back so I can get off.” I do as he says, and when he’s standing, he lifts me off, takes the helmet from me, and leaves it on the bike seat.
“Will you be able to call me a taxi when we’re done?”
He makes a small grunt, not confirmingeither way, then places his arm across my shoulders, leading me toward the buildings as his friends all park their bikes and follow us.
I want to push his arm off me—it makes me uncomfortable—but I don’t want to be rude or upset him.
When we step inside the building, there’s some music playing, and a handful of bikers hanging around on some grungy-looking couches that have seen better days.
But what really catches my eye are the women—dressed provocatively and—“Dios mio!” I exclaim in Spanish, throwing my hand up to cover my eyes.
That woman had no top on, and what was that man doing to her breasts?
Tony chuckles and pulls me closer to him as he leads us past them.
“Who’s the fresh meat?” someone yells as I drop my hand.
“Hands off. Tiny’s mine.”
His?
A chill goes up my spine, and I seriously start to wonder if I’ve misunderstood something here.
“Tony?” I say tentatively.
“Shh, we’re almost there.”
I nod and keep quiet, wanting to get to his office and get this over with as soon as possible. Maybe he just said that to keep them away from me?
