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 cash. 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.