Beg for Mercy (27 page)

“You stay safe,” he whispered, and jogged down the stairs before she could reply. She told herself she was glad he left, because she wasn’t sure she would have had it in her to push him out if he was determined to stay.

And yet, she couldn’t suppress a wistful sigh as she snapped on the light and waved to him from the front window. She felt the tug of regret as she watched his taillights disappear into the night and hopelessly wished that she could manipulate the time-space continuum and somehow go bato before any of this had ever happened. Push the reset button and get her life back on the path it was supposed to travel.

Love. Marriage. Kids.

With Cole.

Well, she’d been on that path, she thought. Bitterness chased away the wistfulness as she remembered how she’d been so sure she and Cole were meant for each other that she hadn’t even noticed that Cole wasn’t exactly on the same page.

She shook her head and scrubbed her eyes against the sting of tears. What was it her grandfather said?
Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.

Right. That about summed it up.

She sank to the couch, yanked off her toe-crunching heels, and grabbed her evening bag to retrieve her driver’s license and credit card to put back in her wallet before she forgot.

She grabbed the plastic, her phone, and the little stack of business cards she’d brought with her. She put the pile on the table, her heart rate picking up when she saw that one had something written on the back.

Please meet me tomorrow, 1pm, at the Hillside Motel, room 104. Please come alone.

Megan read the polite meeting request twice. It was from the blonde; it had to be. She must have slipped it into Megan’s purse.

Promise you’ll call me before you go off chasing another crazy lead.

She sat back, flicking the card with her thumbnail. Guilt stabbed her conscience, but she resisted the urge to call him. She’d made Cole no promises. And while he was full of reassurance, he hadn’t made any promises not to go straight to Tasso or Chin with any information she brought him.

Besides, she’d tell him everything she found out, providing there was anything worth telling.

Stephanie stared at the door and used the butt of her current cigarette to light the next one. She’d been in the
room only half an hour and was almost halfway through the pack. The smoke seared her throat and stung her eyes, but she sucked it down, desperate for the nicotine’s calming effects.

It had been so long since she’d smoked; she was almost feeling high. That was one of the many rules. Clients could do whatever they wanted, but the girls couldn’t smoke. They weren’t allowed to be noticeably intoxicated or use drugs—unless the client insisted.

Some guys couldn’t get off unless they knew you were sharing the high.

They also had to keep themselves immaculately groomed from head to toe, and especially in between, and maintain their appearance in accordance to specifications, which varied from girl to girl.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair. First thing she was going to do after she left todrough thas to dye her hair dark, maybe get a weave until she could grow this shit out. Or shit, shave it off altogether. Anything but the platinum-blond, spiky pixie cut that had come to symbolize her role, her part, her character. The edgy, slightly exotic elfin girl who would do anything you wanted with a smile on her face, the one whose delicate, adolescent body let you indulge in fantasies of fucking your teenage daughter’s girlfriends. Or hell, your teenage daughter herself.

It wasn’t her job to judge. It was her job to follow the rules.

And she was about to break the number one, most important rule of all.

Don’t talk. About herself. About them. About what she did and who she did it with.

Because everyone knew what happened to the few who tried to get out before their time was up, the handful who threatened to tell, thinking that would be a ticket out.

It was a ticket out, all right, if you considered being stuffed in a body bag with a cut throat a good means of escape.

Her stomach twisted and she rose from the bed, telling herself she should get out of here before Megan showed up. Hadn’t Stephanie just received a friendly warning to keep her mouth shut just two nights ago?

He just said not to talk to the police. He didn’t say anything about not talking to anyone else.

Right. Try to argue that with your throat sliced.

She was taking an enormous risk, and for what? A bunch of dumb girls with stars in their eyes who knew what they were getting into from the beginning and should have damn well known whether or not they could handle it.

But Bianca… She had been her friend. She’d looked out for Stephanie from the start, taken her under her wing, taught her how to survive with some piece of her soul intact. Bianca was already three years into the business, while Stephanie was only six months into her contract, such as it was. Bianca had seen a lot more shit go down, had girls she knew disappear on her, victims of a fate they all suspected but no one wanted to say out loud.

She couldn’t blame Bianca for wanting to get out, for wishing she could reconnect with her family and start life over. Stephanie rubbed away the sting of tears. Bianca had known the risks, but she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. None of those girls did.

Risky or not, Stephanie couldn’t sit quietly by and let her friend’s killer get away with it. Besides, even if they
were watching her, there was no way anyone could have seen her slip that card in Megan’s purse.

There was a knock at the door, and Stephanie stubbed her cigarette out and checked her watch. Megan wasn’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes. She went to the door, rising up on tiptoes to look through the peephole, but she couldn’t see anything. Fingers trembling, she flipped the security latch and cracked the door.

Her stomach flipped when she saw who it was.
Shit.
She was such an idiot, scheduling the meeting at the motel where she’d been crashingul int

“Let me in, Stephanie.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t have time to see you right now, but if you want to come back later—”

He shook his head. “You know that’s not what this is about. Now come on. Let me in. We need to talk before you do something stupid.”

“I didn’t do anything,” she protested. “Please don’t rat me out, please!”

“I’m not going to rat you out,” he said, with what looked like genuine concern on his face. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Only a couple people know you’ve made contact, but I can help you fix this. Just let me in so we can talk about it, okay?”

Stephanie weighed her options. If they didn’t know what she was up to, there was still a chance she’d be okay. On the other hand, what would he want in return? He’d always treated her and the other girls pretty decently but…

Screw it. She’d fuck him for free for the rest of the century if it meant saving her from ending up facedown in a pool of her own blood. She flipped the safety latch and opened the door.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as she turned away. “I’m just so freaked out and sad about Bianca. I felt like I should do something to try to stop it.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” he said. His voice was like an icy hand down her spine. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

His huge arm wrapped around her neck, choking off her air supply. She struggled, clawing at the sleeves of his shirt. His gloved hand pressed into her right cheek with bruising force, while the fingers of the other dug into her skull.

“I wish I had time to do this right, to take my time. Feel you clench around my cock when I make the first slice.”

Oh God.
His breath was coming hot and fast on the crown of her head. Tears stung her eyes, and she let out a choked whimper when she felt his erection bumping against her back.

Adrenaline coursed through her as she struggled with every fiber against his hold.

“Unfortunately, time is tight, and I have a message to send.”

A jerk of his hands. A sickening crack of bones and cartilage.

I’m sorry, Bianca.

Megan looked over both shoulders as she got off the bus. She’d managed to ditch Cole back at the coffee place, but she knew he’d get suspicious when she didn’t come out of the bathroom after a reasonable time. She hoped
that taking the bus instead of her car would help throw him off too.

She looked around, saw no sign of him. So far, so good. She half walked, half jogged the two blocks to the motel where she’d beeinstructed to go, presumably by the blond woman from Club One.

At least, she hoped the message was from the blonde. Anxiety-induced adrenaline coursed through her veins. It wasn’t lost on her that she could be walking into a trap set by someone who didn’t want her sniffing around Bianca’s murder and whatever connection she had to Club One. She’d quadruple-guessed her decision to ditch Cole, but she was sure if she told him about the card, he would insist on doing the meeting himself. Megan knew she was taking a huge risk going to the meeting by herself, but she was desperate. Sean’s execution was only five days away, and she couldn’t risk scaring off the only person willing to talk to her.

If she’s even the one who set up the meeting.

Megan forced the thought aside. She couldn’t afford to panic now, not with so much at stake.

The Hillside Motel was a squat cinderblock building with rooms that opened to the parking lot. Not exactly a rent-by-the hour establishment, but a few rungs below even a Holiday Inn. Megan approached room 104 cautiously. She slipped her hand inside her pocket and felt the reassuring weight of her phone which had 911 dialed in. If anything went amiss, she told herself, she’d press the
SEND
button and call the police.

She tapped softly on the door. No answer. “Hello? Is anyone here? It’s me, Megan. From the club.” Still no answer, but the knob turned and the door swung open. She
stepped inside and felt a tingling foreboding as her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim interior of the hotel room.

She barely took two steps into the room before her instincts started to scream,
Run
! There was something not right here; she could feel it in her blood….

Then she saw the body. Time seemed to stop, her vision tunneling in on the sight of the woman crumpled on the floor. Her dark eyes were wide, staring, her head at an impossible angle. There was a lump at the base, a bone stretching the delicate skin.

Blood roared in her head, and she wheeled around to the door as her hand fumbled for her phone.

Too late.

A hand caught her by the neck and jerked her back against a hard, muscular chest. Megan’s phone went flying as hard fingers dug into her throat, squeezing either side of her windpipe.

She tried to scream but all that came out was a sick, choking sound as she clawed at the arm digging into her chest. The sound of rending fabric pierced the air as the fingers dug harder into her throat.

Her heartbeat echoed in her head, the loud whooshing sound of her blood almost drowning out the sound of his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, Megan,” the voice said. “I never want to hurt you. You need to leave this alone before it’s too late.”

Megan struggled to absorb his words, but her vision was dimming by the second, her struggles weakening as she tried to escape his hold.