Page 59

The Pleasure House Page 59

by Kitty Thomas

“Janette?” she said anyway.

“Annie!”

“Oh, thank God! Jan are you okay? What happened? Do you need me to come and get you?”

Her sister was crying and couldn’t seem to get her thoughts together to speak a coherent sentence.

“Are you hurt?” Annette kept imagining the car flipped over in a ditch.

“Y-you know that guy you told me about from the club last night?”

“What about him?” It seemed like a weird time to start talking about guys.

“He kidnapped me. He thought I was you. I-I think he meant it as a game at first, but now he’s really not going to let me go. I’m scared.”

The room seemed to narrow to a single tiny pinpoint right in front of her. She was still trying to process her sister’s words, and already self-blame had started spinning around in her head.

“Jan, where are you? Do you know? Do you recognize anything?”

Her sister took a few deep breaths, seeming to collect herself, finally.

“Do you remember that time a few years ago when we were driving out in the countryside and we got lost and kept going down smaller and smaller side roads until we found that private drive and we wanted to know what was down there, but you got your GPS working again, and by that point we just wanted to go home?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I know what’s at the end of that private road.”

Annette heard a man’s voice in the background, strong and Russian. “Janette, you naughty naughty girl. I didn’t give you phone privileges.” The next moment he’d taken the phone. “Is this the sister?”

“Y-yes.”

His voice was much more terrifying than she remembered.

“The one whispering filth into my ear last night?”

God, who was this guy? All she could think was Russian mob because normal people didn’t do shit like this.

“Please don’t hurt her. I was the one you wanted.” She tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

“You’re the one I still want,” he said. “But we can’t always have what we want. If you go to the police, I’ll kill her.”

The call disconnected.

Annette gawked at the phone. What the hell was she supposed to do?

Every minute she wasted in indecision was a minute he could be doing God only knew what to her sister. Given the depth of the depravity of their conversation the previous night, it didn’t take much imagination to think of what he might be doing to her.

She didn’t even consider calling the police because she believed his threat. He was either a professional or a total scared amateur. Either option could easily end in Janette’s death, and she’d heard too many stories of police intervention gone wrong. She wouldn’t risk her sister for some ego-fueled cop’s promotion.

Annette didn’t have time to fall apart or cry or scream. She had to get it together and go fix this mess. She wouldn’t let herself think about the implications. She just had to move. And keep moving. She just had to focus on each second leading into the next and the next. A cascading set of dominoes falling with each action she took. She just had to get to her sister.

She searched through her closet for the sexiest dress she could find. Short, black. Low back, low cut front. Slinky as hell. And heels. A delicate gold chain with a small heart around her neck. A couple of gold bracelets. She fixed her hair, leaving it long and free with loose blonde curls flowing down her back. Then there was the makeup and perfume—a mild sweet vanilla. Her nails had gotten finished thanks to her afternoon call. If she wanted to entice him into a trade, she fucking well better be enticing.

After all… she was the one he’d wanted.

Then she got in the car. Should she have called someone to tell them where she was going? Probably. But she couldn’t risk that someone wanting to be a hero wouldn’t call the police and that the Russian wouldn’t kill her sister and her as well if she’d made it that far by that point.

She drove for hours. She’d forgotten just how far away it was. How would she find the road in the middle of the night? They’d been lost the first time, and it had been years ago. What if she’d already passed the turn off?

Annette pulled over on the side of the road and did something she hadn’t done since she was a small child. She prayed. She wasn’t sure what she believed in or if she believed in anything at all, but there were times when it couldn’t hurt to pray, and it was the only option left. Maybe some friendly spirit, god, or angel would guide her.

When she started driving again it only took her another half an hour to find that private road. It was still marked with the disconcerting sign: “Private. Trespassers will be shot.”

It took a full ten minutes to reach the end of the road. The drive was so distressingly long that Annette thought she might have missed some small turn off to a house or something. An endless row of trees pressed in all around her. The road had bumps and curves and dips that had her already knotted stomach churning. The lights from her car barely illuminated the space in front of her. And the crickets out here were so loud she could hear them with her windows rolled up.

She finally reached the end and was greeted by a large iron gate and the most enormous white house she’d ever seen. Large Corinthian columns graced a generous front porch. There were five stories she could count. And two towers. Even though this place existed out in the middle of nowhere, it was lit up like a Christmas tree from the outside. Huge spotlights shone on the front of the building. It was so odd. Why would it be lit up like that?

A chill went down her spine. The gate was closed and locked, but there was a speaker box outside. She pulled up to it and pressed the button.

“Tony’s Pizza Place, may I take your order?” came the answer.

Then another voice in the background. “Shut up, Brian.” Neither voice was Russian.

“Let me speak to the Russian,” Annette said. She still didn’t know his name. She felt like she should know the name of the guy who’d kidnapped her sister.

“I’m sorry, no Russians here,” the first guy said.

“Is this Annette?” the Russian said.

Her heart started to pound harder in her chest. What the fuck was she doing?

“Y-yes. I-I want to make a trade. Me for my sister.”

His laugh was hard-edged and cruel. “And what if I decide to keep you both?”

This thought had seriously not occurred to her. It should have during such a long drive, but she’d tried so hard not to think about anything, that she had managed not to think about how stupid this entire idea was. The only thing she’d known to do was beg him to take her instead. It was the only way she could forgive herself for putting Janette in danger.

She’d tried also not to think about the implications of that. Assuming he let her sister go, did that mean he’d keep her as his slave? Like all the bullshit she’d told him at the club? How could she have thought it would be safe to talk like that… to write checks she couldn’t cash in the real world?

And that was something else… even if he let her go, how was Janette going to pay for the apartment? She surely wasn’t going to take up phone sex. It wasn’t her style.

“Did you call the police?” the Russian asked.

“N-no. You said not to.”

“Good girl. Did you call anybody else?”

“No. Please let me in.” If she could just get inside the house, she could convince him. She’d do or say whatever it took. She couldn’t think about anything except getting Janette free. Her sister was innocent in all this. Whatever else happened, she had to get Jan out of here. And if she couldn’t… at least they’d die together. Even if that was the only comfort she could offer, she was there to offer it.

After what felt like decades, the gate creaked open.

Annette parked in the circular drive and dropped her keys into the small clutch she’d brought. It only contained keys, cash, her driver’s license, and a lip balm. She didn’t even know why she’d brought the cas
h. What would she possibly use it for? Was she going to buy her sister’s freedom with thirty-three dollars and seventy-two cents? Like if her slavery offer wasn’t good enough, some pocket money was going to change his mind?

She was greeted at the front door by a very attractive blond guy who looked like he’d come straight from the beach.

“Where’s my sister?”

“She’s comfortable.” He stepped aside and let her into the house.

Her heels echoed too loudly over the marble floor.

“Follow me.” He led her out of the entry hall, past a large dining area that looked like a cafeteria, and down a long corridor. He stopped outside a door and held it open.

She wasn’t prepared for the bizarre scene that greeted her. The Russian and another guy with dark hair and even darker eyes sat on a couch playing a racing game on a video gaming system. The flat screen television they played on took up half of one wall.

The Russian glanced up at her, then went back to the game.

The blond guy crossed in front of them to much cursing from the dark-haired guy. The blond stopped at a pool table and picked up the cue.

“You didn’t cheat did you?” the blond asked.

“I assure you, I do not need to cheat,” a somewhat older man said. He looked to be around fifty.

“Hello? My sister?” She’d expected to be taken to her, or at least for the men in the house to be acting in a more sinister manner. Playing pool and video games hadn’t been on the list of what she’d thought she’d walk in on.

“Kiska, quiet,” the Russian said. He was fully engaged in the race with the other guy. After a few more minutes, the race ended. The Russian cursed, and the other guy beamed.

“Pay up,” the winner said.

“I was distracted by that,” he said gesturing toward Annette.

“Doesn’t matter. I said we could save the game, but you wanted to finish.”

The Russian pulled a crisp one hundred dollar bill from his pocket and slammed it into the other guy’s palm. Who played video games for a hundred bucks a game? But then, it was obvious from the size of the house that these men had money. The Russian hadn’t been kidding last night when he’d talked about whisking her off to his castle and being able to take good care of her.

“Thanks. It was nice taking your money from you.” He pocketed the cash and turned to Annette, a dark smile spreading over his face. He gave her a long, slow once over that made her skin crawl. “I’ll take this one. You can keep her sister.” He stood and looked her over again and said, “I’m Brian,” in the most sinister way one could say their own name.

Annette took several steps back. Obviously there was something wrong with all of these men if they were holding her sister prisoner, but there was something especially wrong with this one.

“I think that’s a bad idea,” the older man said from the pool table as he sunk a green ball in the corner pocket.

“Nobody cares what you think, doc,” Brian said, not taking his eyes off her.

The Russian put the game controller down on the sofa and turned the TV off. He gestured toward the pool table. “The blond is Gabe. The other man is Lindsay, our resident shrink. And I’m Anton.” He extended a hand for her to shake as if any of this were normal.

She didn’t shake his hand. How fucked up to shake the hand of your sister’s kidnapper.

“Can I see my sister?”

“Not just yet,” Anton said. “You and I need to talk.” He led her away from the others down a few different hallways until he reached his destination. A bedroom? An office? But when he opened the door and ushered her inside, it was neither.

A spa?

Her limbs started to tremble now that she was alone with him as if she’d caught a sharp chill she couldn’t shake off.

Anton clicked off the overhead lights and turned on lamps. Everything was white, gray, and black with clean, simple lines. There was a tall desk with a single vase of white lilies. They were fresh and fragrant. He leaned against the edge of the desk, his arms crossed in front of him.

He held his hand out. “Give me your car keys.”

She hesitated only for a moment before she unsnapped the purse and took out her keys and placed them in his hand. She’d berate herself on the stupidity of such an action but she’d known when she’d first gotten into her car tonight that it was a one way trip. Whatever he chose to do with her—if he released her sister—it was worth it.

“Well?” he said.

“Well, what?”

“What did you think coming here would accomplish? Why would I let her go? She could go to the police. She’s a liability. Brian wants to kill her. I thought we could make her useful around here.”

“This isn’t her fault. If you let her go and keep me instead, she won’t talk. I swear she won’t. She’s not stupid. I’ll convince her.”

“Perhaps.” He crossed to a small table in the corner with a coffee maker and poured coffee into two small white mugs. He handed one to Annette. Their fingers brushed against each other in the exchange.

It hadn’t just been the alcohol the previous night. There was something electric inside him that came out and sparked against her when they touched. She shouldn’t still find him so attractive. But maybe it was better that she did. Maybe it would make things easier. After all, Annette knew what this was. If he accepted her offer, she’d have to be very comfortable with him touching her. That was the trade, after all. Her body and obedience for her sister’s freedom. She hadn’t been too drunk the previous night to process all the things he’d said about his grand plans. Whether she’d thought it was just dirty talk or not, obviously she didn’t think that now.

She waited until he’d drunk from his mug before she chanced drinking from her own in case he was poisoning her. For all she knew, Janette was already dead and she was next. She closed her eyes against that thought and tried very hard not to think it again.

“Tell me, kiska, were you playing me the other night at the club? Maybe I should call you little liar instead of little cat.”

“Is that what kiska means? Little cat?”

“Yes.”

Annette looked down at the coffee in her hands. The heels were starting to hurt her feet. She wanted more than anything to take them off, but there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d get comfortable around him.

“How did you become such a good liar?”

She shrugged. “I’m a phone sex operator. Everything is a lie.” She didn’t bother telling him that it was her skills at lying that made her so good at the job, not the job that had turned her into a liar.

Anton laughed.

“What? Why is that funny?”

“I never thought I’d be the kind of fool who’d be taken in by the lies of a whore. All those pathetic men being led around by the dick, being flattered by women who only want their money. It’s disgusting.”

“Hey! It’s not like I really fuck them. It’s just talk.”

“Maybe you should have kept all your talk on the phone, pet.”

Maybe so, but it was a bit late for that.

He sighed. “Were any of your fantasies true?”

She shook her head, still fascinated by the steam rising up off her coffee. She didn’t drink it black, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She didn’t want to complain too much or ask for too much or become too inconvenient for him to deal with.

“That presents a problem. What are you really offering me when you offer yourself in trade for your sister? What are you offering that would make such a trade worthwhile for me?”

She chanced a glance up at him. She’d suspected this was coming, the negotiation and pleading. She wondered if he’d make her beg him to enslave her like this. She’d do it. For Janette.

“Whatever you want. For her freedom.”

“You know what I want. We had a long conversation about it last night. I don’t just want sex from you. I want full and complete obedience. I want to own you.”

&nbs
p; “I know.” But hearing him state it so baldly unnerved her. “H-how do I know she’s still alive?”

The Russian pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “The girl wants proof of life. Take the phone up to her sister.”

Annette wasn’t sure who in the house had answered the call but a few minutes later, Anton passed the phone to her.

“H-hello?”

“Annie! How did you get this number?”

Anton took the phone from her hand before she could respond. “Your sister will speak to you soon.” Then he disconnected the call and turned back to Annette.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“You could have let me talk to her at least.”

“You asked for proof of life, not a reunion. You will speak to her soon enough. Now back to what you are offering in exchange for her. You would kneel at my feet and call me master and obey me completely just to set her free?”

She looked at the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

“And how do I know this isn’t another of your lies? You are a very convincing liar after all. Maybe you think you’ll play me like you did last night.”

Annette set the cup on the table and slowly unzipped her dress. It took all her concentration just to keep her hands from shaking. She’d never been this brazen in real life but talk wasn’t going to convince him, and the only thought pounding her head was Get Janette out of here!

From the moment she’d started going through her closet to find this dress, she’d stopped thinking long term. It was all just about what do I have to do in this moment? If she thought any further down the road, her mind would spiral into terror and chaos, and she would be completely useless. She never would have been able to get into the car let alone find or make it to the house.

Annette let the garment fall gently to the floor, revealing lacy black lingerie underneath. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Master, please. Take me. Let her go.” She couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth. But she had to make him believe this. She half believed it herself. Whatever it took to get Jan home safe.

His coffee cup clinked softly against the table top, and then he was closer, so close that it took everything inside her not to flinch. His fingers stroked through her hair.