Black Tie Page 3
Colt set the girl down on a plush couch and stepped away. She huddled inside the cloak she’d been given, her gaze darting between them.
“How’d the boss take it?” Colt asked.
“How do you think?”
Colt snorted. “Not well. What’d you spend?”
“A million.”
Colt choked. “Dude—what the fuck? Really? You paid a million dollars for this poor girl?”
“They said she was a virgin. It was either me or Von Kassel—or some other asshole whose identity I don’t know. I think he could have spent the million, but I don’t think he wanted to. Von Kassel didn’t have it, thank God.”
“Got it.” Colt’s eyes flashed. “In my mind, you did the right thing.”
“The right thing would have been getting every single one of them out of there tonight.”
“Yeah, I know. But we’ll get them. You know the boss is working it right now. He has spies everywhere.”
“I know. I still don’t like it though.”
Brett hunkered down in front of the girl. On closer inspection, he realized she wasn’t as young as she looked. She’d seemed like she was about seventeen or eighteen, but she was probably closer to twenty-five. It was the way they’d dressed her, in that silly virginal garment with her hair tugged up into two short pigtails. They’d wanted her to look like a teenager.
Her pupils were dilated, but the irises were still striking. One blue, one golden hazel. He’d thought it might be contacts that they’d used to produce the effect, but it appeared to be her genuine eye color. There was no ridge of a contact anywhere.
“Heterochromia,” he murmured. “It’s real.”
“Pretty striking,” Colt added.
“It is. Poor girl. That’s probably why they took her.” He shook his head. “I thought she was about seventeen on that stage.”
“Fuckers.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you speak yet?” Brett asked her. “Tell me your name? Do you even understand English?”
With some effort, her mouth dropped open. “T…Lee,” she whispered.
“Lee?” he asked.
“That’s what I heard,” Colt said.
Her eyes shimmered. “Ta…Lee.”
He couldn’t quite make out that first part. “Okay, Lee. It’s okay,” Brett told her. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk when you wake up.”
She continued to stare up at him, her eyes wide and wet. He didn’t think she trusted him, but the drugs weren’t going to give her a choice in the matter. Her eyelids drooped.
When she finally closed them, two tears slipped down her cheeks.
Chapter Four
Tallie dreamed, but the dreams were disturbed. In them, she ran down a dark hallway, the sounds of footsteps behind her. Her heart beat hard, her blood pounding in her ears. Fear was a living thing, nipping at her heels.
She ran faster, around sharp corners, always trying to get away. Behind her, the sounds of pursuit intensified. A dog barked, tracking her scent, and she knew they would catch her before very long.
Once, she woke up, drenched in sweat, the room silent. Something stirred and a glass of water appeared.
“Drink,” someone said. A male voice.
She wanted to shrink from it, but she was thirsty. So she drank with the help of the man holding the glass. Then she collapsed again and fell into another disturbed sleep.
When next she woke, sunlight streamed from tall windows, spearing across the room like spokes in a wheel. Tallie pushed herself onto an elbow. Her mouth was dry and her head spun, but she felt like herself for the first time since this nightmare had started.
It was like waking from a three day drunk to realize the world was still there. Still waiting for you.
“Hello?” she said, mostly to test her voice but also to find out if anyone lurked nearby. No one answered and her pulse kicked up. If she could just get out of this bed, walk across the room, and maybe find her way outside….
Somebody would help her if she could get away. She had to get away.
Tallie pushed herself upright. Her head throbbed with a headache. There was a glass of water on the nightstand. She reached for it—and then she hesitated. What if they’d been drugging her through the water?
She put the water back and dropped her feet to the floor. It was cool beneath the soles of her feet. Stone. She heard a noise and her heart skipped—but the noise was coming from outside. From the yard, maybe.
It sounded like more than one voice. Was that an engine? Were there people out there, just beyond these walls? Her heart beat a little bit harder at the thought. People meant rescue.
Tallie shoved a hand through her hair. It met resistance. She felt around in her hair, found the ties that formed pigtails—and memories came flooding back.
The woman with red hair. The stage with the bright lights.
One million dollars.
One million dollars? For what?
For her.
The men who’d taken her from the street outside the market said she would fetch a high price. It was stunning to contemplate, but she’d been sold like a racehorse at an auction. To a man who’d paid one million dollars for the right to own her.
Anger and fear flooded her throat with acid.
She’d been abducted in broad daylight, in France, and sold like a commodity. She thought of flying through Atlanta and seeing the signs about human trafficking in the airport. The signs that told people what to look for, and assured those who were being trafficked that they could get help.
She’d been trafficked. She wouldn’t have thought such a thing was possible. She was American, not a child, and not helpless. But they’d taken her and they’d sold her like an animal.
Tallie shuddered. What kind of person would pay money for another human being?
Not the kind of person she wanted to know.
She had to get out of here, before someone returned and found her awake. She got to her feet, tottering on weak legs. She had no shoes, no clothing beyond the white silk nightie she still wore.
Panicked, she felt for her panties. They were still there too. Of course that didn’t mean some lecherous jerk hadn’t molested her while she was drugged, but she didn’t feel like there’d been genital to genital contact. What kind of man would put her panties back on if he was willing to rape her in the first place?
She stumbled toward the open door that seemed to lead into a bathroom. First she had to pee, then she was getting out of here. Tallie stopped at the mirror, stunned at what she saw. The pigtails. The juvenile makeup that was smeared from sleep.
She jerked herself away from her reflection, did her business, and then thought about taking a shower. The shower was huge, walk-in, and it was filled with toiletries. There were towels. She reached inside and turned the taps.
She could do this fast. Just a quick shower to dissipate the fog inside her brain and wake her the rest of the way up. She needed to think clearly and that wasn’t happening just yet. A shower would change that.
She closed the bathroom door and locked it, just in case—and nearly moaned at the sight of a thick robe hanging on the back of the door. That would be a lot better to escape in than a silk nightie.
Tallie got beneath the spray. It was hot. She poured shampoo into her hand, then realized she still had the pigtails. She tugged at the ties until they came loose, then lathered her hair almost manically.
She scrubbed her face, her body, shampoo getting into her eyes and stinging. At some point she realized she was sobbing.
Pull it together, girl!
Tallie gulped down the tears and scrubbed harder, then she stood under the spray and let the soap rinse away. She turned the heat down and opened her mouth, drinking the barely lukewarm water until she no longer felt thirsty.
Hurry!
Tallie twisted the taps, grabbed a towel, and dried as fast as she could. Then she wrapped the robe around her and pressed her ear to the door. Listening for movement.
She pushed the handle again and again, but it was locked. Tallie pressed her cheek to the door and cried silent tears. And then something inside her burst and she beat the door with her fists, screaming weakly for help.
It wasn’t until she heard a key in the lock that her fear grabbed hold of her again. Tallie stumbled backward, looking for something she could defend herself with.
She was still looking when the door opened and a man walked in.
The girl stood in the middle of the room, wrapped in the white robe that’d been hanging in the bathroom, her hair wet and her face scrubbed free of any trace of makeup. Her skin was red, either from the heat of the shower or from the scrubbing, and her remarkable eyes watched him with fear and disgust.
Brett held out a hand. “It’s okay, Lee. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
She frowned. He didn’t know if she even understood him, but he didn’t make any sudden movements so she’d know he was safe.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice scratchy.
Brett’s senses piqued. It was hard to tell when she’d said so little, and all of it rusty, but was she American?
“A friend,” he said.
“A friend? If you’re a friend, then let me out of here. I want to go home.”
Definitely American. Jesus.
“You have to tell me who you are.”
She nibbled her lip and tugged the ends of the robe’s belt tighter around her. “I-I’m Tallie—Tallulah—Grant. I live in Williamsburg, Virginia.”
So that’s what she’d been trying to say when she was drugged. Tallie. He’d heard the first sound, but it had been so weak that only the second sound was audible. He and Colt had both thought her name was Lee.
“Are you hungry, Tallie?”
“I want to go home.”
“I know that. And you’re going home. But first, you have to eat.”
“My mother—I was in France, buying antiques for our business. Her business. They took me from the market. She’ll be worried. I need to call her.”
“I’ll make sure she knows you’re safe.”
Her eyes shimmered with tears. He could see her fighting not to cry. She didn’t understand what was going on, but he couldn’t let her start calling people just yet. And he couldn’t put her on a plane back to Virginia either. Not yet.
“You aren’t letting me go. You-you bought me. I remember you from that place.”
Brett closed the door behind him and eased into the room. He didn’t approach her, though she swayed where she stood. Still weak.
“You remember?”
“I—” She swallowed and looked down, as if realizing that she might be in danger if she knew too much. She was a thinker. He liked that.
“It’s okay, Tallie. I need to know what you know. I was there, you’re right. And I did buy you. But not to own you. You’re still your own person. You don’t belong to anyone but yourself.”
“Then let me go.”
“I can’t do that yet. It’s too dangerous.”
She swayed again. He started for her, but she scrambled backward, a hand held out as if to protect herself from him. He stopped moving.
“Stay away from me,” she growled.
“You need to sit down. Before you fall down.”
“You drugged me,” she accused.
“You were drugged, but not by me. You’ve spent the past twelve hours sleeping it off. I imagine you’ve got a headache by now. Eating will help.”
She reached the edge of the bed. Her hand sank onto it gratefully, as if she were holding herself up. “I just want to leave. Let me go. Please.”
Brett’s heart twisted. He hated that he couldn’t do what she asked. “I will, Tallie. When it’s safe. But you’re going to have to trust me right now.” He made a decision. “My name is Brett. I’m from Texas originally, but I live in Maryland these days. I travel a lot for work, so I guess it’s better to say I stay in Maryland when I’m not working.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything. She was trying to decide whether or not to trust him.
“I’m working now, which is why I can’t let you go yet. Buying you was a job. And if I let you leave, people will know it wasn’t real. They’ll know that I’m not who I said I was—and they’ll know who you are. That could be bad for both of us.”
He’d told her much more than he should have, but he hated seeing fear in her eyes. Ian would think he was losing his touch if he were here right now.
Maybe he was losing his touch. Hell, working a human trafficking mission was probably the worst damned thing he could have done. It brought up old wounds that had never fully healed.
And never would.
“This is work?”
“Yes.”
“Where are we?”
“Venice. You’re currently in a palazzo on the Grand Canal. It’s safe. My boss owns it.”
And everyone who worked in it was on the BDI payroll. Ian paid them handsomely for their silence. They’d been vetted and cleared—and they didn’t ask questions.
She cocked her head. “That explains the sounds then.”
He nodded. “Water taxis, gondolas, tourists. They’re all outside these walls.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. She seemed to relax for the first time since he’d walked into the room. “I hear them laughing sometimes. Enjoying themselves. People have no idea what goes on beneath their noses, do they?”
He’d certainly found that to be true in this line of work. “No, not always. Probably a good thing, really.”
She sank onto the edge of the bed, as if giving up the fight to remain upright. “I am hungry.”
She pushed a hand through the short strands of her wet hair. It came to her shoulders, darker blonde when wet, but it was already starting to turn golden as it dried. No wonder Paloma had saved her for last.
Brett didn’t think she was a virgin, but he wasn’t going to ask. That had been a fabrication to get more money. If a buyer realized the truth and complained, Paloma and her people would have denied it. They’d have continued to swear she was a virgin no matter what.
“Signora Ricci is preparing breakfast for you. How old are you, Tallie?”
“Twenty-six.”
There was a knock on the door. Brett went and opened it. Signora Ricci bustled in, carrying a tray with covered dishes and a silver coffee pot with two small cups.
“Buonjouno, Signor. Signorina,” she said as she went over and set the tray on a small table with two chairs. She poured a cup of coffee, humming while she did so. “Sugar?”
“No, thank you,” Tallie said.
“Milk?”
“Yes, please.”
Signora Ricci splashed in some milk and handed Tallie the cup. She took it politely, but Brett could see her hesitation. She was afraid to drink it in case they were drugging her.
Signora Ricci wasn’t stupid. She looked at Brett. “Signor?”
“Yes, please. With milk.” He normally drank it black, but if he didn’t have the coffee the same as Tallie’s she wouldn’t believe it was safe.
Signora Ricci handed him a cup. “Shall I serve the signorina? Or does she prefer to do it herself?”
“I think she wants to do it herself,” Brett said as he watched Tallie struggle with what he assumed were her manners. Southern girls and their damned etiquette. She didn’t want to be rude, but she still didn’t trust them fully.
“Very well. I will leave you then.”
“It’s perfectly safe to eat,” Brett said when she was gone. “If you prefer, I’ll have a bite of everything first.”
He went over and sat at the table. Tallie sipped her coffee, then pushed herself up and shuffled over to join him. Her hands trembled just a little bit.
Brett uncovered the food. There were slices of sala
mi and prosciutto, melon, eggs, and a couple of pastries thick with powdered sugar. It was a bigger breakfast than most Italians ate, but Signora Ricci was convinced that Americans liked a lot of food in the morning. Not that any of them had known Tallie was American. Signora Ricci just did what she always did when Brett was there.
Tallie didn’t reach for anything, so Brett dug a fork into the eggs and took a bite. Then he ate some prosciutto with melon. Tallie watched with eager eyes. Her stomach rumbled loudly and he put the fork down. “Eat, Tallie. You’re starving.”
She picked up the second fork on the tray. Signora Ricci had thought of everything, naturally, and been prepared for Brett to eat too. Even though he’d eaten breakfast three hours ago.
Tallie ate delicately, though he was positive she was starving. She consumed all the eggs, one pastry—after he took a bite of it for her—salami, prosciutto, and melon. She drank two cups of coffee, and a large glass of water.
“If you give me your sizes, I’ll send for some clothes,” he told her.
“Thank you. I had a suitcase at my hotel in Avignon. I don’t suppose you could get that too?”
“I’ll get it. What about your passport?”
“It was in my purse. I’m sure they took all my ID.” She shook her head. “My notebook is missing too.”
“Notebook?”
“I was buying for the shop. I kept records of the antiques I’d purchased. Mother has probably arranged shipment of everything that’s arrived at the port by now.” She blinked at him. “What’s the date? I don’t even know how long it’s been since they kidnapped me.”
“November tenth.”
Her jaw dropped. “I was in the market six days ago. Six days! And I don’t remember most of the time since then.”
“Because they drugged you. That’s also why you’re so weak now. They probably didn’t feed you much either. They wanted you pliable for the auction.”
Her face clouded. “I thought they were going to rape me. And then leave my body somewhere.”
“Do you remember the men who took you? Could you describe them?”
“I could describe one of them. He followed me for two days. The other—I never really saw his face. I got into a taxi and he was the driver. The other man who’d been following me also got in—and that was it. They took me to a warehouse and blindfolded me. Then they injected me with something. After that, I don’t remember a lot. Impressions. A van. Two men speaking a language I couldn’t quite figure out—maybe a Baltic language. There might have been other people in the van, but I’m not sure.” She tilted her head as she studied him. She wasn’t shrinking in fear anymore and that made him happy. “Are you a policeman or something? Are you investigating those men?”