Page 15 of Meaner Than Evil

Jumping to my feet, I trot down the steps and greet her as she steps back and allows me to retrieve her suitcase and my gym bag.

“Good flight?” I ask.

She nods. “We had a tailwind, so we made good time.”

“The FBI has set up in the guest house around back,” I tell her and lead the way.

When we enter the house, everyone stops and stares. I forget how gorgeous she is, but the room full of men reminds me. It doesn’t faze her at all. She marches in, introduces herself, and gets to work. “Bring me up to speed, fellas.”

I back out and leave her to it. She’ll come to get me when she’s ready for me. I return to the patch of grass under the stars and rest.

Eight

Logan

My eyes flutter with the sound of someone coughing in the distance. My head isn't painful now, but it's foggy. I don't know where I am, and I can't remember how I got here, but I remember everything until I was drugged.

I peek through my shuttered lids and see a white ceiling with a chandelier. Wherever I am, it's an expensive place.

My left arm is cold, so I try to pull it to me, but it's stuck. I turn my face toward it and see it's handcuffed to the bedpost.

I hear men's voices a short distance away, and my senses heighten as I lie quiet, trying not to draw attention to the fact that I'm awake.

The silence reassures me they aren't aware, so I slowly turn my head and look around. I'm lying on a bed, handcuffed, bare ass naked, in a big area room surrounded by chairs.

I close my eyes and try not to panic. I'm being sold.

My insides start to tremble at the horrid thoughts that flood into it, but I force them out—shutting down my fear. Knowing I won't suffer the fate of so many women who are sold as sex slaves. The thoughts,Jack will find me, be brave, begins running around inside my head in a loop. I close my eyes and focus all my attention on Jack, letting the flood gates of his memory open, knowing I have to combat my captive situation as best I can.

Mallory's nasally impression of her mother has us all laughing. It's her birthday, and the bar we are at has given her a ginormous birthday margarita with extra straws for everyone to drink. We are playing a silly drinking game of I spy. It's one of our favorite girl games.

Mallory slurs, "I spy with my little virgin eye."

I nearly spit my drink all over the table. "Gurl! You aren't admitting to us that you are still a virgin?"

She throws her head back and cackles. "Hell, no! I love to fuck!"

Bobbi and Jenny almost spew their drinks across the table and then fight over a napkin to wipe the Margarita ooze dripping off their chins.

Mallory is a preacher's daughter, and she usually doesn't curse at all. But when she gets drunk, she talks like a sailor.

"Then why the virgin adjective?"

She wags her finger at me, "No, no, no! I'm not telling! You have to guess."

"Okay. Finish the sentence then."

"I spy with my little virgin eye … something I haven't ever done before."

We look around the room, and Bobbi screams, "play billiards."

"NO! Drink!"

They both suck on their straws.

Jenny guesses, "Pissed in the men's bathroom!"

"NO! Well, actually, yeah, I have. DRINK!"

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