Page 51 of Allison

Allison is different. She is important, not only to Emma, but to him, too.Please let this all be a misunderstanding. Worm knows in his gut it isn’t. Something is terribly wrong.

Allison

Rough hands grab her,throwing her around like she is a sack of potatoes. Allison is suddenly upside down over someone’s shoulder. She groans, her stomach rolling and her head throbbing.Where the hell is she? Who is carrying her?

Although disoriented and confused, she can tell they are going down some stairs. Minutes later, she is dropped unceremoniously onto a lumpy surface. She moans again, feeling like she is going to be sick.

Rolling her head to the side, she forces her eyes to open. A single bare bulb is hanging from the ceiling. The light is very bright. It hurts her eyes badly. The pain and dizziness are intense. Her nausea increases, and she leans over the side of the bed.

Over and over, she heaves, losing the contents of her stomach. When the nausea subsides, she rolls onto her back, taking a few moments to recover. Feeling slightly better, she looks around at her surroundings.

The small room appears to be old and run down. The walls are made of cement blocks. The paint is peeling in several places. It smells dank and musty.Is this a basement? She pushes against the old, thin mattress forcing herself to sit up.

Dizziness and nausea hit her again. Closing her eyes, she presses a hand to her head. She winces when she touches the large knot on her head.What the hell happened?

She leans against the headboard, trying to collect her thoughts. The last thing she remembers is being with Russell in her room at the hotel where Emma had gotten married. Slowly her memory returns.

She’d flown back to San Diego to meet with an informant, but the Uber driver had been taking her somewhere else. Realization hits. She’s been abducted, but where is she?

She looks around the room again. The spare furniture is old and worn. Everything is made from cheap materials. The floor is rough cement. She doesn’t feel too bad about throwing up all over it, now.

Oddly, there are no windows in the room. She attempts to get off the bed when the door opens. A well-dressed man enters the room, wearing a form fitting mask over his face. His expensive attire is out of place in this rundown dump.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he comments, closing the door. His voice sounds vaguely familiar, but in her disoriented state, she can’t remember where she’s heard it before.

His gaze assesses her from head to toe and back again. His features and hair are hidden from view. All she can see are his cold, calculating eyes peering at her through the mask.

“Who are you?” Allison asks, her voice raspy. Her mouth and throat are dry. She can’t remember when she ate or drank last. She’d been traveling all day, then she’d been abducted.How long have I been out?

“It is in your best interest to not know who I am.” The man tilts his head to the side briefly, then strolls over to take a seat on the edge of the bed. A sound of disgust escapes him when he notices her vomit on the floor. He moves to the single chair in the room, near the door.

“I hit my head pretty hard. Perhaps you should take me to a hospital,” Allison states, anger in her voice.

“Oh, we can’t have that, Ms. Simpson,” the man replies. “I’ll have my personal physician come by and check you in a bit, but first, we must talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Now let me go,” Allison demands. The man clucks his tongue.

“No, I don’t think so. You see, prying women who stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong don’t deserve to be free.” Allison swallows hard.What the hell does this man plan to do with me?

“Why are you holding me here?”

“You’ve been looking into things you shouldn’t be,” he answers. “I can’t have you revealing our operation.”

“Your operation?” Her tone is full of derision. “You mean your human trafficking ring? Where you sell kids into sexual slavery? That operation?” The man shrugs his shoulders, nonchalantly as if they are discussing the color of the sky.

“Ms. Simpson, it is in your best interest to let this go.”

“I’ll never stop!” Allison shouts. “Those children don’t deserve what you’re doing to them. I will uncover who you are and anyone else who is behind this atrocity and bring you all to justice.” Allison is shaking in her anger at this man and the evil he is doing.

In two long strides, he reaches her, grabbing her upper arms roughly. “There are serious consequences for those who interfere with our business,” he growls, shaking her violently.

“Someone will come looking for me,” Allison threatens even though she isn’t sure that is true. She doesn’t even know for sure if Emma got her text.

“No one is going to be looking for you, Ms. Simpson,” the masked man drawls, pulling her phone from his pocket. “I’ve made sure to respond to the frantic texts from your cousin and boyfriend. I even had a female friend of mine answer when 911 called back after you’d been disconnected. She explained how it had all been your friends playing a prank on you. How easily they believed her.” He flicks some lint from his suit coat.

“Be assured, no one is coming for you. Now, I’m going to give you a few days to think things over. You will come around to my way of thinking. If not…well I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.”

He releases her abruptly with a shove, causing her to fall backward, landing hard on her ass. He leaves, slamming the door behind him. The distinctive click of the lock echoes in the small space.

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