Page 40 of Sinful Lies
Chapter 24
Dia
Ilay on Reed’s bed, inhaling his scent from all around me. As furious as I am that he won’t let me help, I’m missing him more. I know he’s doing all this for me, but I just got him back. Is it wrong to be selfish and want him to stay here with me for more than a few hours at a time? I certainly don’t think so. We have years to catch up on. Lies to remedy. There’s so much I need to say to him, but when he’s near me, all I want to do is rip off his clothes. Everything about him is downright sinful. Being with Tank is a trip to Heaven and Hell and back again.
I fling myself to the other side of the bed to watch the number on the nightstand clock roll over again. Growing even more impatient every hour he’s away from me. I hate just sitting around doing nothing when I can help. As hard as I try, I can’t get the image of Jules out of my head. My thoughts ricochet back and forth between the guilt I feel for what Ben’s done, to my surging hormones at the mere thought of Tank.
I hoist myself off the bed and pad across the room to where my bag is still leaning in the corner. I dig through the pockets in search of my cell phone. It wasn’t in my car where I left it, so I have to assume it’s here somewhere. Finally, I find it. Pushing the wake button, the screen lights up with a battery low warning. I plug it into Reed’s charger and open my music app. Flopping back down on the bed when my playlist starts. The music calms my body but not my mind. Jules keeps dancing through my thoughts.
I’m sprawled across the sheets on my back, my head dangling off the foot of the bed as I belt out the lyrics to my favorite songs. It passes the time, and I hoped it would get my mind off the one thing I can’t do anything about. Not right now, anyway. The chorus fades into the chime of my text message ringtone.
I hop off the bed, retrieving my phone from the dresser. It could be Reed. There’s no one else who has any reason to text me. My friendships have all fallen away in the wake of my disaster of a marriage to Ben. They all tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t have the luxury of listening. I thought Reed was in danger and did what I had to do to keep him safe. How could I have known that the eighteen-year-old boy who climbed out my window, scared to death of what he saw, what they all said he did, never needed my protection? He had this club. A whole new family. A place to belong. I’m glad he did, but I didn’t know. It was just one more sinful lie Ben piled on to keep me from Reed.
My phone chimes again as I pick it up and open the text message. My heart sinks to my toes.
Only you can give the girl her life back. Come now. Come alone. Or you all DIE.
Attached to the message is a single image of Jules. She looks so frightened. I toss my phone onto the bed and hurl myself to the bathroom as the pizza Cat brought me to eat earlier rushes back up my throat. The guilt is already tearing me up. If something happens to her, I couldn’t live with myself.
What the hell do I do?I don’t know how to contact Reed, and I don't know how long he’s going to be gone. I pull myself away from the toilet bowl and rinse my mouth in the sink. I could find Denny or Raven and tell them. They’ll know what to do. Then again, they won’t let me go. The club would rush in there and...
I shake my head at the thought I’m having. I can’t even stomach to think about that. I can’t put their lives at risk. No. This is about me. I have to go alone. It’s time I settle this business between Ben and I once and for all.
But where do I go? The message didn’t give a location. I snatch my phone from the bed and fire off a reply.
Where?
That annoying red exclamation mark pops up next to my text.
Failure to send.
What the hell? I open the photo attachment and look for a clue. Anything that would tell me where Ben’s holding Jules.
Her arms and legs are tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. I spread my fingers across the image to enhance it. There has to be some clue. How can he expect me to know where to go? I scan the image from frame to frame, and then I realize it’s a warehouse on the docks.
Now I just have to sneak out of here. I snatch my bag and head for the door, pausing for one last look around. If this is the end for Reed and me, I can’t leave without saying goodbye. I draw in a heavy breath and leave my farewell scribbled in red lipstick on the mirror above the dresser. This way, he wouldn’t miss it.
****
Ididn’t expect itto be so easy to get out of the clubhouse undetected, but there was no sign of Denny and I assume Raven, Cat and Mercy have probably been asleep for hours. I found my car keys in my bag and walked right out the front door. I held my breath when I approached the gate, but just as it did for the caravan this morning, the gates automatically opened and closed behind my car.
My eyes are heavy by the time I reach Cross Shipping. Every mile I drove, more tears fell. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I had always thought that someday, somehow Reed and I would get our happily ever after. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for us. Life threw us a nasty curve ball a decade ago and now it’s thrown us another.
I can’t afford to second guess my decision. There’s no way I can leave Jules in Ben’s hands. She’s only fifteen. She has her entire life ahead of her. If there’s anything I can do about that. I can’t shake the nagging feeling that this is the end for me.
I use my key to open the office door. Only flipping on a small desk lamp, I fumble through the top drawer of the reception desk to find the small brass key that opens the master key box in Ben’s office. The soft glow from the desk lamp barely lights half the lobby, leaving the hallway dark, but I’m afraid to make it any brighter. If there’s any possibility Jules and I both get out of this, I need to find her before Ben realizes I’m here. Quickly, I unlock the key box and search for the row of warehouse keys. When my fingers land on the key for warehouse four, I unhook it and slip it into my pocket. It’s the only warehouse that makes sense. Mikhail’s shipping docs were changed to warehouse four. Ben decommissioned it years ago. He’s probably been running his sex slave ring out of it all this time. The thought turns my stomach. It’s not like I ever loved the guy. He’s an asshole, but I always assumed it was out of jealousy and some twisted affection he had for me. When the truth is, he’s far worse than I ever realized and because of that, countless women have suffered. I draw open the right-hand drawer of Ben’s desk and smile. His reign of terror ends tonight.
I tuck the Beretta 92 in the waistband of my jeans and exit the office. Keeping pace with my rapid heartbeat, I head toward the docks. Past warehouse one and two and endless rows of cargo containers stacked three and four crates high. I near number three and my steps falter. Last time I was down here, he kidnapped me and locked me in a cage. I don’t know what Ben has in store for me this time. All I know is I can’t let it happen to Jules.
I’ve never been this far into the shipping yard. There was no need to. We had a crew to handle things down here. Now I wonder, if I had ventured out here a time or two, would I have figured out that this was happening right under my nose?
Its dark and dirty. Rats scurry across the ground in front of my feet as the light from my phone spooks them. My breath hitches in my throat. I play out how this may go down, over and over in my head and push forward, even though fear has a vice grip on my chest.
I reach warehouse number four at the farthest end of the dock, and my courage fails. My fate lays in the hands of a silhouette blocking my way. He’s too short and stocky to be Ben. My chest heaves with every breath.
“Surprised to see me? I suppose you were expecting your husband.” The man steps forward.
Eyes as deep brown as Reed’s pin my feet to the planks below them. The river running beneath the dock is stiller than usual. Even in the late hour, or early morning hours as it may be, the air is heavy with heat and humidity. The ends of my ponytail sway along my back and strands stick to my clammy neck. I’m lost for words. He’s right. He’s the last person I expected to find here tonight.
