"I wasn't going to take you to the warehouse."
"Bullshit!"
He got to his feet. "I swear, Erin. I wasn't."
"I don't believe you." A tear ran down my cheek. I was so pissed I started to cry. The one person I thought was my true friend had betrayed me.
"Yes, I was making you think I was taking you to the warehouse, but that was only for show—for Saffron."
"And then what?" I placed my hands on my hips.
He shrugged with a sigh. "I don't know exactly. She sprang it all on me last night, and I had to act fast."
"Act fast by trying to drag me out of bed."
"I had to because Saffron had taken my gun. If I had hesitated—"
"She would have killed you. Blah, blah, blah. I've heard that line a thousand times."
"No." He shook his head. "She would have killedyou."
Chapter Seventeen
Ric
Since that night Saffron wanted to take Erin back to the warehouse, Erin and I hadn't talked much. She thought I had betrayed her, and I didn't blame her. I would think that too.
If Frank hadn't shown up, Erin and I would be free. I would have made sure of it. But we were still trapped, and now it was worse than before because I didn't have my friend. Honestly, she was more than a friend to me, but I could never act on my feelings, knowing what would happen if Frank or Saffron found out.
It was probably for the best because Saffron had stopped beckoning me. Was she jealous of Erin? It was apparent she knew Erin and I had a friendship. Was she envious? Maybe she wanted friends herself. In the years I'd worked for her, I had never seen her with a friend. Everything was business-related except her ex-boyfriend I'd met at the fundraiser some years back.
It didn't matter. Everything had changed.Well, not everything.One day I was going to get Erin out and free.
Even if it got me killed.
Tonight was a party night, and all the women except Erin were in a line. I fucking hated party nights. The clients that came acted as though each woman was a piece of ass they were entitled to fuck, and sometimes they sampled more than one. I couldn't imagine what I would do if Erin was one of them. It was bad enough when Frank stopped by for his fix.
During parties, I stayed downstairs in the control room and watched each camera feed. The recordings got recorded over after seventy-two hours, but not if it was someone powerful who came to get his rocks off, like the mayor, some Wall Street guy, or even a cop. It made sense since Frank had them on his payroll. I didn't manage the money, but I wouldn't be surprised if the police got to use the women for free to ensure their lips were sealed.
I yawned as I switched the feed from room to room as the women did their thing. When the camera switched to the main room, I saw Frank walk in. I stared at the live feed, hoping he wasn't here for Erin, but I knew better. He only showed up when he wanted her. I started to switch the feed again but stopped when I saw one of the clients smack Jasmine across the face. I stood abruptly, the chair tipping over as it fell backward. In the years I'd been head of security, none of the clients ever got violent with the women. I had thought Saffron needing me to watch the feeds was a joke.
Not anymore.
I took the stairs two at a time, ran down the hall, and barged into the room. Jasmine sat in the corner, her arms around her bowed head.
"Get up, you fucking whore!"
"Lay a hand on her again, and you won't have any," I seethed and threw him face-first against the wall.
He turned, only in his tighty-whities, and threw his hands up. "Hey, man. Nothing happened."
"Bullshit!" I boiled, my arm pressed across his throat. "We have a strict policy around here. You don't lay your hands on our girls."
"She wanted it," he choked out.
I grunted a laugh, and before I could say anything, Frank was at the door. "Is there a problem?"
"Broke the number one rule, sir," I responded, yanking the client off the wall and twisting his arms behind his back. I led him to the door.
