I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I swung my legs, getting out carefully. I didn't need them to catch a glimpse of my panties. Or the gun.
I followed them over to the door as Conrad pulled out keys and unlocked it.
I glanced back toward the street.
No sign of my men. If they'd seen me leave and tried to follow, they were keeping out of sight.
Honestly, I hoped they hadn't followed. A place like this didn't scream 'willing to be here.' If they saw me step inside, they wouldn't be fooled. They'd come charging out of the shadows, guns and knives in hand, ready to slice, dice and shoot. Ready to gather me up and take me home.
A home that wasn't mine anymore. I assumed they'd go back to living in their separate apartments now. Would they keep working together? They might not want to see each other again. Too many bad memories. Bad tastes in their mouths, left there by me. I should have stayed away from them to start with. It would have been easier for everyone.
I forced the despair aside, raised my chin and followed Conrad inside. The door clanged behind us, echoing down the concrete corridor.
Conrad flicked on a light switch and led me deeper into the building.
"What is this place?" I asked.
It smelled like cleaning products with a hint of something nasty. Sweat? Urine? Misery? I sensed lives had ended here, literally and figuratively. People were killed, and people were broken.
Be strong, I told myself. I wasn't going to let that happen to me.
"Just a stopover." It was the second goon who responded. "Don't worry, you won't be here long. You have some time to get some rest and a change of clothes. I'll have something organized for you."
His gaze swept up and down my body, leaving no doubt that if Conrad wasn't here, he'd have me on my knees in front of him. How long Conrad would be a deterrent was anyone's guess.
They led me over to another smaller door, opened it, and pushed me aside before closing and locking it behind me.
CHAPTER 18
SABLE
The room contained a bed and small bathroom. Nothing else. Unless you included the lingering smell that pervaded the building. That was here too. Not heavier or lighter, just persistent.
I scanned the room for a camera before sliding the gun out from under my dress, lifting a corner of the lumpy mattress and shoving it underneath.
Hoping like hell I had enough time, I stripped off my dress and took a hasty shower. Barely more than a splash of water on myself, and a rinse all over. To my surprise, the water was warm and the pressure decent. I wished I dared stay in for longer.
The sound of movement beyond the bathroom door made me shut off the water and grab the thin towel that hung on a hook on the wall. It smelled a little musty but it looked clean. Ish.
As quickly as I'd washed, I dried, and wrapped the fabric around myself.
Heart pounding, I stepped out of the bathroom. Stopped when I saw someone left clean clothes on the bed. The door was closed again, the room empty.
I slipped out of the towel and into the clothes. A black skirt that fell to just above my knees, a cropped, pale pink blouse, and a cute cord jacket, also in black. Everything still had the tags attached.
How thoughtful of them, I thought bitterly, tearing off the tags and tossing them aside.
They'd even left underwear in my size. White lace. Semi-transparent, but better than nothing.
Beside the bed was a cardboard box. I knelt down and listened to it carefully, in case it was ticking. Did bombs actually tick? I didn't know, but I didn't hear anything.
If it was going to explode, it would have done so by now, wouldn't it?
Tentatively, I teased off the lid and found a pair of knee-high black boots with laces up the front.
Conrad and the other goon were observant, or one of my parents picked out everything for me.
Either way, I hated it. This was as fucked up as being locked in here in the first place. I wasn't a doll or a puppet, to be dressed however anyone else decided.
