Beneath a Blood Moon (4 page)

Isabella was ready within five minutes, which made me suspect she had intended to go to work with me from the start. Annoyed at her prodding but too grateful to say a word about it, I grabbed my purse and my gym bag with my work clothes.

“We’ll cab,” my friend said before placing a call on her cell to summon a driver. I grimaced, wondering how I would be able to afford my share of it and have money left over to eat. Instead of complaining, I clenched my teeth.

Protesting wouldn’t do me any good. It was the one thing we never agreed on, although our friendship had survived the burden of our differing perspectives on money and how far we’d go to acquire it.

So long as I didn’t say anything she perceived as a criticism of her lifestyle, we’d get along. All I had to do was make myself scarce if she brought a client home with her and stay quiet. I had no idea what I was going to do about college; did my gift-giver know where I went to school? The semester would end soon enough, if I could avoid whoever was leaving the roses at my door. Once exams were over, I could reevaluate my classes. Missing a semester of courses wouldn’t kill me.

Making myself an easy target might.

By the time the cab arrived, I was second-guessing going into work at all. Isabella glared at me, pointed at the car, and tapped her foot. I sighed and got in.

“Relax,” Isabella ordered, prodding me in the side with her elbow. “We both need a good shift tonight, especially if I can’t work clients.”

“You can if you need to. I’ll stay near the casinos until you’re finished—or stay in the lobby at your place.”

She considered me for a long moment before nodding her satisfaction. “We’ll figure it out. At least I don’t have to tell you to stay close at home.”

The jab at my lack of prostitution work was gentle compared to her normal barbs, but I flinched regardless. Last night, if I had found the courage, I would have considered going home with the amber-eyed man to see if I could coax a real smile out of him.

If I had known what was waiting for me at home, I would’ve gone home with him for free.

I felt like a fool for even thinking about him. I didn’t have room in my life for one-night stands, and taking home interesting men, while good for business, was bad in all other ways. I could barely afford to keep myself. There was no way in hell I was going to rely on some man I had picked up on the strip.

In my line of work, sleeping with men was business only.

Unfortunately for me, I wanted something more than a never-ending chain of trysts. The few times I had prostituted in desperation, the hope my partner wanted something more than a one-night stand proved my undoing. I sighed, staring out the window as the cab zipped across the city towards the strip.

Maybe if I were willing to compromise my prudish, old-fashioned ways, I wouldn’t have someone stalking me—or wanting me dead. The driver came to a halt outside of the casino closest to the club, and I dug through my purse for several bills from last night’s work. Isabella waved me off, paying the driver as well as tipping him.

“Just this once,” she informed me, gracing me with a smile.

I flushed. “Thanks.”

In a way, I wished she hadn’t covered my half of the bill; Isabella had a way of turning a fifteen dollar debt into a hundred dollar profit for herself. Unless I had good luck and soon, I would likely owe Isabella every extra cent I’d make for a year in order to repay her for her kindness.

Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to make a life for myself in the city. Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to attend college at all. Despite knowing that, I couldn’t deny the truth.

Everything in Vegas had a price—even friendship.

All I could do was hope her help wouldn’t cost more than I was willing to pay. At least I had some hope, which made me smile. When I needed her, she was there.

The night passed in a blur. After the mysterious amber-eyed man and his elusive smile, none of the men in the club were worth dancing for, and my work suffered from my lack of interest and enthusiasm. Isabella didn’t do much better than I did, and after an afternoon and early evening of lackluster tips, we mutually gave up; she gave the last two hours of her shift to one of the new girls.

“We’ll go to your place and grab your books,” she said, herding me to the line for a cab. “Won’t be able to take everything, but at least you won’t have to go without your important things. Between the two of us, we can take quite a bit.”

“I can replace my books. We don’t have to go,” I protested, shaking my head at the thought of returning to my apartment. “This is a stupid idea.”

If there were more roses and threats waiting on my doorstep, I didn’t want to know about them.

“Don’t try to feed me that shit. You’ve been working yourself to death trying to go to college. You need those books and your notes. Face it; you can’t afford to blow a single semester or you’ll be sixty before you graduate and can get out of our business. You’ll be wrinkled and old, unable to find a husband—and don’t you glare at me. We both know you want to settle down. Stop worrying. We’ll be together. Your place isn’t in that bad of a part of town. If that ass left something, ignore it. We’ll get in, grab the important stuff, and get out. It’s not too late, and it’s not a long walk to the cab stand near your place. We’ll be fine.”

I had no idea where Isabella got her confidence from, but I recognized a lost cause when I saw it. Isabella’s dark eyes held no room for compromise, so I sighed and nodded. “I guess.”

I still thought it was a stupid and dangerous idea, but I didn’t have the courage to fight her on it.

Isabella smiled at me. “It’s probably some rich fucker who got pissed you didn’t go home with him. Next time, just go home with him and take his money. You’ll avoid a lot of problems that way.”

In a way, she was probably right. While some girls ran into trouble prostituting in town, STDs and unwanted pregnancies were the most notable risks. Even though I didn’t prostitute often, I made room in the budget for the good birth control—and I was careful about who I went home with.

Unlike many of the girls I knew, I was clean, and I meant to stay that way.

To even the scales, I paid for the cab ride to my place, earning a glare from Isabella. I scowled back at her and slid out of the car. Once the cab pulled away, Isabella braced her hands on her hips and stared at my apartment building.

“Your place kinda does look like a great location for a horror flick.”

“Thanks so much for that,” I muttered, stomping up the walkway towards my apartment.

The bouquet of roses waiting for me was excessive; dozens of red blossoms were ringed with white. The flowers rested on a bed of ferns. Golden ribbons bound the whole thing together.

“Someone either likes you a lot or really, really hates you,” Isabella stated, staring down at the bouquet. “That’s insane.”

“Welcome to my life,” I muttered, pulling my keys out of my purse to unlock the door. I opened it, stepping over the roses. “Let’s just get—”

Something sharp stabbed into my side. I drew a breath to scream, but my body refused to cooperate with me. A soft sigh slipped between my lips, and I went numb and limp, my legs giving out beneath me. Moments later, everything went dark.

Chapter Three

I woke up long before my body acknowledged my control of it. At first, I couldn’t feel anything other than the spasms clenching my muscles. My arms and legs jerked of their own volition, and each movement sent pain lancing up and down my spine.

If I could have screamed, I would have.

I had no idea how long I drifted, unable to escape from the pain of my convulsing muscles, unable to open my eyes, and unable to do anything other than wait. I tried to count the seconds, but I hurt too much to concentrate for long. When I finally won some control over my body, all I could do was lie still and fight to catch my breath.

I opened my eyes to darkness, which frightened a gasp out of me. I blinked, and when my eyelashes caught on material, I realized I was blindfolded. The fabric was so soft and plush on my skin I didn’t notice it until I tried to move my head and the cloth shifted. A glimmer of light peeked through a gap in the blindfold. The ringing in my ears drowned out all other sound, if there was any.

I wiggled my fingers, and relieved I could move, I shifted my weight. My wrists were bound together in front of me, and the bristles of cheap hemp rope dug into my skin.

My fear rose. I had been right to be afraid. I had been right to want to avoid my home.

Because of my inability to stand up to Isabella, because of my foolish trust she knew best, I had doomed us both. Was my friend already dead because of me?

All of the things I should have done rattled around in my head until I was smothered by the weight of my guilt and despair. Why hadn’t I protested more?

I could have replaced my notes and my books. The costs of their replacements would have left me pinching pennies, but it was a price I could pay; I couldn’t afford losing Isabella.

She was the only real friend I had, no matter how we had met—or that her friendship had been bought.

Whoever had kidnapped me wasn’t very smart or was confident I wouldn’t escape. While my hands were bound, there was nothing preventing me from pulling off my blindfold, which I did. The bright light hurt my eyes, and squinting, I took in my surroundings.

I was sprawled on a hardwood floor in a small room straight out of a Wild West cabin. A couch with gaudy floral print took up most of the space, accompanied by a saddle hung over a wooden rack and a bearskin rug. Isabella was bound next to me, and she was also blindfolded with her hands tied in front of her.

Our kidnapper hadn’t bothered to bind our feet. I rolled onto my back, searching for any signs of anyone else in the room with us.

All was quiet.

Relieved, I examined the ropes binding my hands together. The knot was placed on the far side of my wrists, which would have made it difficult to reach with my teeth if I weren’t so flexible. Twisting my arms until they creaked in their sockets, I positioned the knot where I could get a good look at it and went to work.

The hemp’s bristles made the process painful, and by the time I loosened the first loop, my lips were bleeding. I’d be picking hemp out for weeks, but if I could escape my ties, I might live long enough to worry about my mouth. After the first part of the knot came undone, the rest unraveled, allowing me to yank my hands free. I grabbed hold of Isabella’s wrists, attacking the knotted rope with my nails. It didn’t take long to release her. I saved the blindfold for last, and when I pulled it from her face, she stared at me with a dull, dazed expression.

“Shh,” I hissed.

Her eyes widened, and after a moment, she nodded. With her confusion written plainly on her face, she rubbed her wrists, staring around the room. “What happened?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.” I sat up, grimacing at the throb in my side. I lifted my tank-top, staring at the pair of puncture marks and bruising marking my ribs.

Isabella sucked in a breath, touching my side. “Taser.”

“You too?”

Grimacing, my friend reached up and touched the back of her head. “Someone hit me. I heard the crack and the thump of you falling. I tried to run, but it was too late.”

Some people would have been offended by being abandoned, but I appreciated Isabella’s blunt honesty. I didn’t expect her to endanger herself, although her efforts hadn’t saved her.

We were friends, but there were limits. Money couldn’t buy everything.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you involved,” I mumbled.

“You did say you thought it was a bad idea.” Isabella wrinkled her nose. “I should have listened. Forget it. Let’s bust this joint while we can.”

Maybe Isabella had been hit in the head, but I needed her help to get to my feet and stay there. My muscles trembled and twitched as though electricity still coursed through me. A storm door set beside a curtained window promised freedom. We staggered to it, and holding up her hand in warning, Isabella peeked outside.

The sun burned over the desert, and for as far as I could see, there was nothing but dry, cracked ground and craggy stones jutting up from the barren landscape. My mouth dropped open.