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Sondra tilted her head. “Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?”
“It’s possible, just highly unlikely.”
Addie heard the sounds of doors opening. She opened her eyes as best she could. Barely able to open her eyes, she saw the man walk towards her, noticing him holding something. Reflexively, she flinched.
“Steady now.” The man said.
She tried to move, wiggling just a little. She felt the jab and then the sting as something went into her arm. Addie tried to jerk away but couldn’t. Everything was so hazy. She was so tired.
The man’s voice spoke so close she felt his breath on her ear. “I told you, if you keep moving like that I’m going to have to keep doing this. You’re a hardheaded little bitch, aren’t you?”
Addie forced an eye open. It took all the strength she had, but she managed to shake her head. He’s drugging you. Pull it together. You know this man. You know this voice. Think Addison. Think.
The man laughed. “Rest well, little whore. Rest well. You’re going to needed it.”
Addie heard him close the door to her cage and then the rattling of keys. She heard his feet climb the stairs when all of a sudden the room went pitch black. In matter of seconds, she was out cold again.
William’s team was able to track down Addie’s iPhone within a matter of hours. From there, they were able to locate her car, which had been found abandoned, her purse still inside. At that point, it became clear that they needed to get the police involved. William and Sondra met with the police and then the FBI, each of them giving limited details regarding their respective relationships with Addison Greyer. William explained that he was just a friend trying to help Sondra. And Sondra was just Addison Greyer’s boss. She felt no need to indulge any further. After all this had to do with Addie’s work at the agency, not at Seven. But William and Sondra were smart. They both knew it was only a matter of time before the real truth would come out. Fortunately for them and for Addison, the longer that was avoided, the better. Because once the truth was out, it would mark a noticeable shift in the investigation. The truth would turn the investigation inward, when the authorities would stop looking for the person who really held Addison Greyer captive, and instead focus solely on those who were lying. Unfortunately for Addie, this shift would likely prove fatal.
The police contacted Patrick, who chartered a flight home. William reached out to all of the major media outlets and pulled strings, getting Addison’s picture out and scoring Sondra interviews on the next day’s morning shows. All of a sudden, there was a flurry of activity, the situation becoming overwhelmingly intense. It was clearly evident that, due to the circumstances surrounding Addie’s disappearance, all parties understood that time was of the essence.
Eighteen
Addison awoke to liquid being forced down her throat. She was choking, drowning. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard the sound of a camera. It was snapping photos. Click. Click. Click.
“Wake up bitch.” He slapped her over and over. “You’re fucking this up.”
She felt the vomit come up. Addie forced her eyes open. She was being hosed down and the water was cold. So cold. The man was standing above her, an angry expression on his face. She sat up as best she could.
“You stupid bitch. I thought you ruined everything.” The man repeated over and over.
Addie sensed déjà vu. She had been in this situation before. She had woken like this before. Observing her surroundings, she took everything in. Badly beaten and bleeding, she tasted a mixture of blood and something else . . . vomit. Her hands and feet were shackled, and she was in a small cage, maybe five by five feet. They looked to be in a basement of some sort. It was smelly, dark, and cold, so it had to be underground.
“Good. You’re coming around,” the man called, dropping the hose. Addie stared at him. She knew him. He was the man on the boat—the man from Capri.
Addie chose her words carefully. “Mr. Hammons?”
The man laughed an evil laugh. “That would be me.”
Addie cocked her head to the side and waited.
The man walked to a table set up in the corner. He grabbed a plate and walked toward Addie, placing a sandwich in her hand. “I bet you’re wondering what you’re doing here, huh?”
Wolfing down the sandwich as though she hadn’t eaten in days, Addie stared at Scott Hammons, analyzing him. She thought back on the times she’d woken up. How many was it now? Three or four? There was the first time, the time she was beaten and suspended. Then there was the time he masturbated in front of her and then this time. Although, she had no idea how long she’d been out, Addie assumed that it had been long enough that people were beginning to look for her. Her thoughts went to the boys as she imagined their faces and her hugging them in the kitchen.
Addie blinked. “I am wondering, yes.”
Scott closed the cage door and locked it, dragging the chair across the room; he sat and folded his arms, watching her as he sipped what smelled like a glass of whiskey. Addie wasn’t sure he was going to answer, until finally he spoke. “You’re William Hartman’s whore. That’s what you’re doing here. He owes me. And I’m collecting on what’s due.”
Addie sat up straighter. Play dumb. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Your lover boy, he stole from me. It’s his turn to pay up, which is why you’re here.”
Listen. And buy time. He’s going to kill you. Addie thought for a moment, considering how she’d respond. With sudden clarity, she devised a plan, her Domme training kicking in full gear. She laughed louder than the situation probably called for. “You think I’m William’s whore? That’s funny.”
The man’s face went pale. Clearly, Scott Hammons was taken aback. He eyed Addie up and down and kicked back his whiskey. “Don’t fuck with me, bitch.”
“I’m not William’s whore. I’m his Dominatrix. And the bastard owes me a lot of money. So I highly doubt he gives a shit whether I live or die.”
