Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,52
short work, duct tape is wrapped around my mouth, and I’m cuffed, hands behind my back, and tossed on the bed.
“Don’t hurt her,” Trez says. “I’ll get the money.”
I moan behind the tape, frantic to try to tell them I’ve got the money in the car, but they pay me no mind.
Lockwood is not in the room, but one of the goons is on the phone with someone, probably him. The other moves to Trez and grabs him by the shirt, lifting him from the chair as far up as his binds will allow.
“Now we know you’re gonna get us that money. If you don’t, we’ve got your sister.”
“I’ll get the money. I swear,” Trez says.
I thrash and moan until the one on the phone jerks his head to a briefcase sitting on the dresser. The second man moves to it, pops it open, and digs around in it. I can’t see what he’s doing, until he turns and comes at me with a hypodermic needle.
I thrash even harder. He pauses next to me, putting a knee to the back of my thigh, pinning me down with excruciating pain as he hold the needle up, pushing the last of the bubbles out.
“You don’t have to do that,” Trez shouts, trying to free himself, but the other one punches him in the face.
I feel the pinch of the needle into my skin, and I hold Trez’ tearful eyes as everything goes black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Trez—
My heart is racing as I park my truck several blocks from the motel, leaving it beside the garage of an abandoned house I’d scoped out earlier. Wedged between the garage and a tall hedge, I hope it won’t be seen. I yank my backpack from the floorboard, and transfer the cash from the paper bag to the backpack, pulling out a different shirt and ball cap. I quickly change, then grab a tarp from the bed of the truck, and cover the vehicle with it. Hopefully, no patrol cars will spot it. I hike the backpack on my shoulder, and start to walk back toward the motel, knowing my limp is a dead giveaway. Half a block down, I get lucky, spotting a bicycle propped against a fence.
It’s painful for my knee, but I manage, knowing at least it masks my limp.
There’s a rock in the pit of my stomach. Besides the apprehension of being picked up at any moment, I’m sick with worry for my sister. I have no clue what Lockwood or his goons are capable of. The drug they injected Lola with was a huge surprise. I never expected they’d go that far. Now, I’m not entirely sure they plan to let us go when this is over.
I overheard Lockwood’s goon’s talking when they thought I couldn’t hear. They made crude jokes about how taken their boss was with Lola’s beauty. Then they said something about meeting his plane in Albuquerque tonight.
I’m afraid what that may mean.
Arriving at the Starlight Inn, I ditch the bike, and fast walk past Lola’s car, praying she’s okay.
When I tap on the door to the room, there’s silence on the other side, then I hear footsteps approach. I’m sure they’re looking out the peephole. Two squad cars fly past on the highway, drawing my attention, their lights flashing, but sirens quiet.
The door opens, and I slip inside. Lola’s still unconscious on the bed. I start to pull the backpack from my shoulder, when I’m hit in the head from behind, and everything goes black.
***
I come slowly up to the surface from unconsciousness, my face pressed to the cheap carpet, and its rough texture rubbing against my skin. I blink. The motel room slowly comes into focus as my head throbs with pain.
The room is quiet and semi-dark. I twist, pushing myself up to a sitting position. Pain jolts up from my bad hip and knee, but I ignore it, scanning the room. There’s no sign of Lola or Lockwood’s men. I drag myself to the bed, and hoist myself up, then limp to the bathroom. It’s empty. I move back to the windows, and peer between the curtains. It’s dark, and the black sedan they were driving is gone.
Fuck.
They’ve taken Lola. I drop back down to the bed, and put my head in my hands, terror and guilt overwhelming me. I’ve got to find her. I’m pissed at myself, and slam my fist into the mattress beside me, and something jingles. I glance back, and see a set of