Page 82 of Filthy Boss


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I picked up the card, and slipped it into my bra. I dropped the tray off at the bar, I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, while I stealthily moved up the ramp, and back into the dressing room. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. All of Hudson's concerns were validated in just a single introduction. I grabbed my phone, and dialed Hudson's number. I needed that protection, now.

“Calla? I thought you were working tonight.”

“I am. Your boss is here. You are right, Hudson. I can't work at the club anymore. I need you to come get me. I don't want to leave alone.”

“God dammit. I knew this would happen. Greedy Russians.” I heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ll send my driver right over. I’ll be following in a separate car, so I can see if you're being watched. Do not leave the club's doorstep until you see the car pull up. Do you understand me?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I got it. How long?”

“No more than ten minutes. Get your belongings and don't tell anyone where you're going.”

“Okay, got it. I'll be here.”

The phone call ended, I quickly gathered all of my belongings, and shoved them into my purse. I wrapped my coat around me, and put my hair up in a bun. I thought if I looked just a little bit different maybe I would be safer.

I waited right next to the club’s entrance until I saw the black town car pull up. The driver waved to me, and I ran quickly across the sidewalk. “Ms. Hart?”

I nodded.

“Let me get the door for you, miss.”

He opened the door, and I got inside. I breathed a sigh of relief that no one had tried to grab me or, even worse, shoot me. I didn't know how they would feel about Hudson and myself being a real couple. About me knowing all his secrets and knowing that he wanted out. I saw a car following us, and I felt comfort in knowing that Hudson was close. I closed my eyes, and rubbed my head for a moment, trying to dissolve the stress headache that was beginning.

We drove in silence for a while, and I guessed that we were going to the airport. I wasn't worried that I had hardly any of my own things. Hudson would take care of all that. It was just another advantage to having a boyfriend with an unlimited checkbook.

The car stopped abruptly, and I expected Hudson to open the door, so I could fall into his arms. But that wasn't who opened the door. I looked down at the short balding man with a broad smile who I now knew as Rudolph Lenko. I gasped for breath as he smiled at me, looking devilish and smug. I tried to open the other side, but it was locked.

“Like I said, Ms. Hart. We have some business to discuss.”

My mouth dropped open. Suddenly, the driver side door opened, and a gloved hand was over my mouth. “Help!” I screamed, but the glove stifled it. I couldn’t breathe. I was kicking and attempting to bite my assailant, but it was useless. Within seconds, the world went dark.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I felt sick, and my head was throbbing. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were so heavy that I would never get them open. I rubbed the back of my head, and felt the sticky substance of my own blood. I didn't remember getting hit, just the gloved hand stifling my screams as they attempted to pull me out of the town car. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, and I wondered what Hudson's reaction was when he got to the club, and realized I was already gone. They must've had my phone bugged; it was the only way they would've known Hudson's plan to follow the town car. They were smart, smarter than I'd given them credit for.

Slowly, I willed my body to open my eyes so I could take in the sights around me. If I got a hold of Hudson, anything I could tell him could be paramount in my rescue. But the world was blurry and dark. I felt around on the floor, and I realized it was cold, concrete, and a little damp. I was probably in a basement somewhere, or maybe a warehouse. I'd no idea how much time had passed, and if they had flown or driven me to a new location. I couldn't imagine that they would have kidnapped me and kept me in the same place. I was praying I was still the country. If I wasn't, Hudson would have no chance of finding me. I reached into my coat pockets, hoping that possibly I had some way of contacting him, but of course, they took my cell phone. They would have tracked the call anyway.

The room started to take shape as my vision cleared, and, sure enough, I was in a warehouse, kneeling with my legs splayed out to the side of me on the cold floor. There was a chain-link fence behind me, and when I turned around, it was clear that this was a holding place for some of the goods. Bottle after bottle of prescription drugs filled shelves in the caged area; this is where they kept their money. I couldn't believe the amount of drugs in the eight by ten area here that was gated. As I carefully swiveled my head around and continued to look at the warehouse, I realized that there was at least eight other cages like this one. There were millions of dollars worth of drugs in this place. Shit.

When Hudson had talked about it, he was helping clinics and people who couldn't afford the proper insurance for their drugs, but that's not what these guys were doing. This was their stock, and if they had this much, they were making a lot more than Hudson was. I looked for an exit, and saw the red lights to my right at the other corner of the warehouse. But, right in front of it, sitting around a table were four of Rudolph's thugs playing poker. One was smoking a cigar while the other was raking in some chips. If I could just slip by them unnoticed…

“Looks like the girl’s awake,” one of them said in a gruff voice.

Another one chugged a beer, and slammed it down on the table. “I thought you gave her enough to last a few more hours. The boss ain’t even back yet.”

“This one’s strong-willed, I tell you.”

“You already jumped her once, then you had to hit her over the head as she woke up on the way here, and now she's fucking awake again. You must not know your script, man. You’re not dosing her high enough.”

So I'd been drugged, twice. And the thug that hit me over the head had made quite a dent. I tried to seem like I was still pretty out of it, but my alertness was coming back to me piece by piece. The pain was excruciating. He really ripped open my skull. I didn’t look at the floor, I didn’t want to see all the blood.

I looked at the exit sign again. I was thinking how far I could run before I blacked out. I didn't know what I would do if I could make to the door, but I felt like it was my only option.

The two men that were talking pushed their chairs away from the table, and sauntered over to me. I closed my eyes again hoping that they wouldn't do anything to me if they thought I was still injured. The blood on the back of my head gave them a good indication that I was. The one bent down and grabbed my chin, holding it just a hair away from his face. “How you feeling, girly?”

These two thugs didn't look like Rudolph's other men. They were simply muscle; they didn't have any other interest in the extra business.

“I guess she doesn't want to talk, do you?”

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