Janette’s crying became more intense as her shoulders began to shake. Anton tried to ignore it while he wiped the blood from her wrists with an antiseptic wipe. He turned away to take out some bandages and ointment, and then all of a sudden she was halfway across the room and out the door he hadn’t bothered to shut.
If they were going to successfully keep women here, they’d better figure out the logistics fast.
Anton got off the ground and chased her up the stairs. She was halfway across the foyer, well on her way to the exit. He had to keep reminding himself she couldn’t get far. The property was too big and he was the one with the car keys.
The front door opened, and Phyllis walked in. “I’m sorry I forgot to give you the spare key. I didn’t see a car out front so I thought I’d just let myself in and leave it inside...”
“You have to help me get out of here!” Janette shouted.
Phyllis looked from Janette, to Anton, and back to Janette again. Even with her wrists cleaned up it was clear she’d been bound. And her clothes were in disarray. And she’d been crying. The older woman began to back up as Janette moved closer to her one chance of rescue.
“Guys, help!” Anton shouted. He wasn’t sure what else to do. He couldn’t stop them both. He ran for the door and tackled Phyllis to the ground just as Brian was coming up the stairs. “Get her!” he said, indicating Janette.
Brian didn’t ask questions, he just calmly stopped and restrained the blonde. About that time, Gabe and Lindsay walked in.
“What the fuck?” Gabe said.
Anton wasn’t sure how it was possible that before they’d even gotten the place off the ground, he had two people in his care that he either had to keep prisoner… or kill.
44
Annette tried her sister’s cell, but again it went to voice mail. She paced across the living room floor. This wasn’t like Janette. Her twin was the good one. It was nearly midnight. She wouldn’t stay out like this without calling—or really at all. She had exams. She wouldn’t be out drinking or partying. Had she gotten into a wreck? Annette tried desperately not to go through the entire mental catalog of all the things that could have possibly happened.
I’m sure everything is fine. Maybe she went out with her study group for coffee or something and lost track of the time.
But even she didn’t buy her own bullshit this time. Something was very wrong. Her sister was in trouble. She knew it. It was a twin thing. The two of them had always been close and the bond had only gotten tighter when they’d been left with only each other.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang in her hand. The caller ID said blocked.
“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.