Page 43 of Captive

Blake brushes my hair back into a ponytail. It's the perfect hair style to go with the teenager dress. The underage look is complete, I think wryly. Then another dark thought hits me. "Are you sure he's not sending me out there to hand me to one of the clubmembers?"

Blake mulls the question over. "I was surprised when he asked me to get you ready for the night's activities, but I don't think so." He leans down and stares at my reflection. "Darlin', you need to prepare yourself for when that day comes. And it will come. He won't keep you tucked in here for his personal use for long. You're an asset to the company, if you catch my meaning. There's no return on investment when you're sitting in thisroom."

"Lovely, so I'm a commodity," I quip. Angie Tennyson's sarcastic tone is back. One skipped dose and I'm finding my way back to reality. Only I fear reality is going to feel like a hard slap in theface.

"We all are, darlin'. But there are worse ways to live. Like thestreets."

Blake and I had quickly bonded, but selfishly, I'd never asked how he came to be part of Freestone's underground world. "How did you end uphere?"

Blake reaches for some mascara and spins the chair to face him. He stoops down in front of me. "For obvious reasons, my extremely religious, conservative father kicked me out of the house. Said I was a sexual deviant. I had to do what I could to survive. My low point came when I nearly died after some creep I'd offered to blow kidnapped me. He had his way with me and then dumped me out in the desert. Turned out to be a lucky thing. Mr. Freestone's limo was heading back to the underground complex. The driver spotted me. They picked me up, nursed me back to health and here I am in all my glory. Fat and happy and I have a place tobelong."

A place to belong. That is where the inconsistencies muddy the waters. I'm here to uncover the hideous world Freestone has created, only it seems part of that world includes taking care of young people society has otherwise discarded. The fear Blake exhibits when he worries about breaking the rules seems to stem more from his worry that he'll lose his newfound home and not from some insidious danger he faces if caught breakingprotocol.

My eyes shut as Blake finishes my makeup. I use the moment of quiet to get into a better state of mind. I'll need to be the submissive sex object while trying to uncover mysteries and salacious details about Lace Underground. The hardest part of it all will be ignoring the irritating side effects of skipping my dose of nectar. There are seconds when it feels as if tiny ants are dragging feathers along my skin. The thudding pain in my head and stomach have only just begun. I have no doubt they will intensify as the night goes on. I've seen more than enough junkies in the throes of withdrawal to know that things are going to get rough. I have to stay strong, keep my wits about me and still pretend to be floating on a blissful eroticcloud.

As I wait for Blake to finish, I think about the last few days sitting in the room going nearly out of my mind waiting to see Kane walk through the door. The feelings I have for him when I'm drugged border on mad obsession. When the amber liquid is coursing through my veins, all I can think about is his mouth on me, his fingers and cock inside of me. I'm more than subconsciously aware of the manic cravings I have for the man. There is nothing I can do to stop them when I'm high on nectar. The question is—how will I react to Kane when I'm not drugged? How will I react when I'm more Detective Tennyson than I am Tawny Smith, his SweetSin?

29

Maddox

The interrogation roomin homicide is empty. "Damnit." I walk into the desk area and find Detective Young, a twenty year homicide veteran who is always cranky. Guess two decades of murders can do that to aguy.

I head to his desk. It's even more cluttered than mine. "Hey, Young, I need someinfo."

"What do I look like, Maddox? A fucking telephonebook?"

"Telephone book? Is that one of those big paper weight things you old timers use to look up names and addresses?" I grab an empty chair from the next desk. It scrapes the gritty floor as I position it in front of his desk and sitdown.

"Why are you sitting in front of my desk when I haven't invited you to sitthere?"

"Told you, I need some information. Who is on the murder case for the dumpsterbody?"

Young finally looks up from his work. He has permanent angry creases across his forehead, and his nose is sharp like a bird's beak. "I am. There's your information. Now run along, kid. I'mbusy."

"So the boyfriend confessed?" I ask. Persistence is both my strong suit and the habit most likely to get me introuble.

Young makes a show of tossing his pen into a somersault. It rolls across his paper pile. He leans back. "You are a fucking pest, you know that? No wonder your partner left town. Where's Ten at,anyhow?"

I shrug. "Not toosure."

His brow has some long gray hairs in it that wiggle as the brow rounds over his eye. "Is sheundercover?"

"Not too sure," I sayagain.

He reaches for hispen.

"Look, I assume you got a solid motive for the murder. Did the jerk say anything about why he slit the girl'sthroat?"

Young squints at me, trying to figure out why I'm interested. "This has something to do with Ten?" It's aquestion.

"Just need to know if there was any mention of where the girl had been. I know she had disappeared from the streets before she ended updead."

Young sighs in resignation. "He says she told him it was top secret and that she'd been sworn to secrecy. But he managed to smack it out of her with his fist. He's a real nice guy all around. Can't wait to put him in front of a jury. Anyhow, she said that she was part of a secret club, a sort of high end prostitution ring from the sound of it. But she didn't work out so they dropped her back onto thestreets."

"She didn't work out?" I ask. "Howso?"

"How the fuck should I know, Maddox? Maybe she wasn't putting out for the clients. Anyhow, it was enough to make this kid jealous with rage. So he slit her throat and tossed her like garbage. Now go away." Young returned to hiswork.

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