Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby)(87)

Cocaine.

But the selection didn't end there.

Needles, rubber tubes, lighters and other items littered the place. It was a juxtaposition of classy, old money and the contents of forgotten alleys. I'd never seen a drug den so well stocked, or so decorated.

And then I saw her.

Her back was to me, her profile aimed at the distant wall, like she was seeing something that wasn't there. Long, tangled hair slid over her shoulders, the short dress she wore exposing her skinny, pale arms.

This was a woman who fit in with the other drug-infected lot. When pasted among the rest, she wouldn't have stood out. A lost girl from a time filled with laughter, long bike rides, and old promises.

A forgotten girl.

But nothing could ever make me forget her.

“Claudine,” I whispered.

The woman jerked around, her eyes so deep in her head they could have been stone wells. Her skull was starting to show through her cheekbones. Stress, and—by the looks of the stash sprawling around—drugs, had not been kind to my sister.

I was too overwhelmed to care.

Heat pushed at the back of my eyeballs. Stepping forward, I covered my mouth, willing myself not to start crying like a sloppy mess. But this was her, she was right here. My plan for escape was a distant, nagging itch. I just wanted to touch her.

I needed her to be real.

She hadn't moved, her eyes searching mine in an almost feral way. Then, slowly, she straightened up. Her voice cracked, hollow with doubt. “Flora? Am I seeing things?”

“No,” I sobbed, wiping at my eyes. Smiling helplessly, I closed the gap, crushing her in a hug. She was taller than me, but she felt so much smaller. “Claudine, god, I can't believe it!”

I'd done it. I'd really found her.

Her fingers came down, gently prying me away. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking around at the other girls. Some were watching, most didn't lift their heads.

“I'm saving you!” Scrubbing at my cheek, I backed away. “Come on, we need to get out of here. I came in through a window in the hall, no one was even watching.”

She stayed where she was. She could have been a statue. “You need to go.”

A flicker of uncertainty wormed into my core. My smiled was strained. “Claudine, come on. If we don't go now, I'm not sure—”

“Not sure you'll escape?”

The voice came from behind me. Spinning, I yanked my gun free, aiming it unsteadily at the three men in the doorway. The man who had spoken could have blocked it himself.

He was bloated, stomach stretching out the button-down, baby blue shirt that dipped over his belt. A stiff, white jacket hung open, his hands buried in the pockets.

His grin told me, quite blatantly, that I was fucked.

“Stay there!” I shouted, training the pistol on each of them. Who did I choose? Who was the most dangerous?

Sighing sympathetically, the plump man started to move his right arm.

“Don't!” I snapped.

He paused, then kept going, his lips making a soothing sound—as if I were a wild animal. “Easy there, it's just a rag.” Tugging the handkerchief out, he mopped at his temple. “Gets mighty hot out here in the Glades, even with the air conditioning. You're sweating too, dear girl. Why don't you sit down and relax?”

I slid my heel backwards, hissing at Claudine. “Is there another way out?”

My sister said nothing. In front of me, the men were smiling.

“Claudine, is there another way!?” I demanded.

“Yes Claudine,” the fat man chuckled. “Tell our friend how unwanted guests leave.”

This wasn't how this was supposed to go down. My panic was kicking in, nerves crackling. Did I have to shoot them?

Finally, my sister spoke. “Flora, stop. You can't win.”

“Flora,” the man repeated. “Oh, that's a pretty name. Do you know her, Claudine?”

I was too terrified to take my eyes off of the men. “Claudine... please... tell me what to do,” I whispered.

She lifted her voice, begging. “Tully, please. Don't hurt her.”

Tully, so that's his name.

“If she drops the gun, I won't,” he said.

“I'm not dropping the gun! We're getting out of here! Move out of our way!”

No one even twitched.

Tully puffed up, mopping his face again. “Claudine, this is getting old. If she doesn't drop the gun, I'm having the boys fill her with holes. The gators can finish the rest.”

Gators? My eyes went wide, and he must have noticed, because he laughed.

“Oh yes,” Tully said, eyebrows lowering. “You asked how you were getting out of here. One of your options involves the stomach of our little water friends.”

I didn't want to ask what the other options were. Bracing myself, I fixed the pistol on Tully. Instantly, the other men had their weapons on me. I hadn't noticed them pulling them free. It felt like every molecule in the air was weighing me down, slowing me to the point of sluggishness.