The Debt 10 (Club Alpha) (5 page)

Faith closed her eyes.
 
She didn’t want to hear any of this, but
she knew she had to listen.
 
She’d
told him she could handle it, and so she would.
 
“You used to rob people on the street?”

“I told you it was bad,” he said, his
voice sounding hard and unapologetic.
 

She opened her eyes.
 
“So what does any of this have to do
with me?”

He draped an arm across his knee as he
sat with his back against the headboard.
 
“While I was out in Vegas, I officially hired Club Alpha to assist me in
finding someone who could be trustworthy for me to spend time with,” he said,
still looking at her as he spoke.

“I don’t get it.”
 
She squinted harder, as if trying to
decipher tiny words on a test in a foreign language.

“Club Alpha told me that they were
experienced in finding women for men like me.
 
Rich, powerful men with secrets, they
said.
 
That’s their specialty—and
a lot of guys use them.”

“I never heard of them,” she said.
 
“You think I work for them or
something?”

“I know you work for them,” he replied.

Faith laughed, shaking her head.
 
“Chase, somebody’s been messing with
you.
 
Club Alpha, whoever they
are—they’re full of it.
 
They’re lying to you, because I never had anything to do with them.
 
So if you think I’m part of some crazy
business that puts women together with rich guys—I would never do that.”

“Faith,” Chase said softly.
 
“You’re the one who doesn’t
understand.
 
You do work for Club
Alpha.
 
You signed the papers here,
in my house.”

She sat up straighter, as if someone had
just dumped cold ice water down her back.
 
“You had me sign those papers to make sure I wouldn’t blab to the
media.
 
That was it,” she said.
 
“What did that have to do with this Club
you keep talking about?”

“They gave me those forms.
 
Those were contracts.
 
Club Alpha contracts.
 
And they’re iron clad, Faith.
 
They keep you from revealing any
incriminating information about me to the press or anybody else.
 
And you also were hired on as a
part-time contractor for Club Alpha.
 
Technically, I guess you could say you’re a high class escort.”

“An escort?
 
Like a prostitute or a hooker or
something?” she said, her throat closing as she choked on the words.

He shrugged.
 
“I don’t care what name they call
it.
 
I just wanted to make sure that
I could be with a girl and not have to worry about her screwing up my life.
 
I’ve got a lot on the line, a lot riding
on my reputation.”

 
She got out of bed and slipped on her
panties and bra, and then climbed into her pants.
 
“I’m leaving,” she announced.

Chase put on his boxers as he followed
her out of the bedroom and into the living room.
 
“I knew you’d be upset and that’s why I
didn’t talk to you about it at first.”

She turned on him, her fear and disgust
turning quickly to flat-out rage.
 
“You tricked me,” she said, her hands balling up into fists.
 
“You never told me I was signing up to
be a prostitute.
 
Do you have any
idea what you’ve fucking done to me?”

He stood there, hands at his sides.
 
“Yeah, I do.”

“But you don’t fucking care,” she said,
feeling tears behind her eyes.
 
“You
really are low, Chase.
 
Lowest of
the low.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“I can’t believe what you did to me.”

“You’re not a prostitute,” he said.
 
“The contracts were just for
protection.
 
You didn’t have sex
with me for money and I didn’t pay you.”

“I know I didn’t have sex with you for
money, asshole.
 
I don’t need you to
explain that to me.”
 
She pointed at
him.
 
“But you lied to me.
 
You tricked me.
 
And I cared about you and that’s what
you do?
 
What is wrong with you,
Chase?”

He licked his lips.
 
“This is the arrangement.
 
This is how it has to be,” he said.
 
“A guy in my position—“

“Fuck you.
 
And fuck your position.”
 
She pulled her shirt over her head,
slipped on her heels and grabbed her purse.
 
“Do not.
 
Call me.
 
Ever.”
 
And then she ran out of the house, not
even bothering to close the door behind her as she fled.

***

By the time she’d gotten home to her
apartment, Faith was deeply rattled by what had transpired between her and
Chase.

I
can’t believe he did that to me.
 
How dare he?
 
Who does he
think he is?

The thoughts raced in her mind.

I
never want to see his face or hear his voice again.

And yet, she continuously checked her
cell, hoping to see a text or a missed call from him.
 
As she slammed the door to her apartment
closed behind her, the silence of the place hit her like a wall, and she
dropped down on her recliner and cried like a little baby.

She cried, heaving, her shoulders
shaking, the tears pouring down her face and between her fingers until she had
to run to the bathroom and grab a roll of toilet paper to use to wipe her tears
away.

Sniffling, her sobs began to ebb, and she
sighed once and then twice.

Her phone was ringing.

Faith’s heart leaped for joy.
 
He’s
going to call me and apologize
, Faith thought to herself.
 
If
he does, even though I’m furious of course—I’ll agree to give him another
chance.

But
only if he’s apologetic and means it.

The smile died on her lips as she picked
up the cell phone and saw the number was blocked.
 

Maybe
he’s calling from his landline.
 

She continued to hope as she answered her
cell, readying herself to feign anger, even as she desperately wanted to
reconcile with Chase if at all possible.

“Hello?” she answered, trying to keep her
tone even, firm, resolute.

“Is this Faith?” a man’s voice queried
through the phone.

“Who is this?”

“My name’s Max.
 
Max Mendez and I’m with a company by the
name of Club Alpha.”

Faith felt her body turn to ice, frozen,
and a shot of fear penetrated right to her very core.
 
“I—I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” she lied.
 
“I have
to go.”

“Do not hang up, Faith.
 
I’m not a very patient man.”

She swallowed.
 
“Don’t threaten me,” she said.

“It’s not a threat.”
 
The man’s voice seemed to soften just a
little.
 
“I’d like to meet with you
and discuss a few things, explain a little bit about what we do.”

“I don’t have a lot of time at the
moment,” she said.
 
“I’m very busy.”

“Oh?
 
You’re busy, even after being fired from your place of work?”

There was a long silence as she took in
his question.
 
Somehow, he knew
she’d been fired.
 
He knew her phone
number and her name.
 

Chase Winters must’ve told him
everything.
 
She wondered what else
Chase had told this man.
 
Her
stomach was rolling and bubbling, and now she truly was nauseous.

This was a violation.

“I’m not sure what you think you know
about me,” she said slowly, careful now with her words.

“I know everything I need to know,” the
man said.
 
“I’d like to have a
chance to speak with you before you decide to do something silly and
unnecessary such as call the police.”

“I intend to call the police,” she told
him.
 
“And no, I won’t speak with
you.”

“If you call the police,” he said,
“you’re going to hurt Chase Winters.
 
But more importantly, you’ll hurt yourself, Faith.
 
We have a contract with you.
 
Moreover, we’re only here to help you
and to help Chase.
 
I’m not going to
hurt you in any way, shape or form.”

“Leave me alone.”
 
She hung up the phone and sat there, her
heart racing, wondering what to do.
 
She picked it up and dialed 911.

But then she wondered what she could
really tell the police.
 
Nothing she
said would make much sense to them, and she knew it.
 
Would they think that a superstar like
Chase Winters was really using an expensive and shady agency to somehow entrap
her into prostitution?

She hardly believed it, and she’d lived
it.

That caused her to pause and think.
 
Maybe the best course of action was to
wait and see.

There was suddenly a knock on her
apartment door and she jumped, her heart racing fast once more.

“Go away!” she shouted.
 
“I’m calling 911.”

“Faith?” a familiar voice called through
the door.
 
“Don’t call the
cops.
 
It’s me, Greg.”

She was stunned. What was her jerky boss doing
at her apartment door?
 

“Greg?” she said, standing now and
walking towards her door.
 
“What are
you doing here?”

“Look, can you let me in for a
second?
 
I want to…uh…apologize to
you.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed as she approached
the door.
 
This had to be some kind
of trick.
 
It just didn’t make
sense.
 
“I don’t believe you,” she
told him.

“Fine,” he said.
 
“I’ll talk through the door if you
want.”

She unlocked the door and then quickly
stepped back as far as she could and held her phone up, her thumb hovering over
the call button.
 
“Come in,” she
said.
 
“It’s open.”

The door swung open and Greg stood before
her.
 
He was wearing a suit that
looked rumpled, and she noticed the sleeve was torn.
 
And then she saw that he had dried blood
around his nostrils and a scratch running up the side of his neck.
 
“Hey,” he said, waving sheepishly at
her.

“Greg, what happened to you?” she asked,
dropping the phone to her side.
 
“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, walking
slowly inside her apartment, glancing around as if someone else might be there
waiting.
 
“Just had a rough day,” he
explained, motioning towards his ripped sleeve.

She was feeling less and less afraid of
him.
 
His body language was of
someone who’d had all of the fight taken out of him.
 
Which, judging from the looks of him, he
had.

“What happened to you?” she asked him,
crossing to her easy chair and sitting down as he sat down on the couch
opposite her, leaning forward a little, elbows on his knees.

“I came here to offer you your job back.”

Faith’s brow furrowed.
 
“You want me to come back to work for
you.”

He nodded, not quite able to meet her
gaze.
 
“That’s right.”

“Greg, you look like someone maybe put a
scare into you.
 
Was it Chase?” she
asked, hoping against hope that it wasn’t.
 
Of course, she couldn’t imagine how he would’ve had time to find Greg
and beat him up, since she’d only left Chase’s place in Beacon Hill a couple of
hours ago.

But anything was possible.

“Chase Winters?” Greg said.
 
He laughed.
 
“No, it wasn’t him.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed, relieved.

“I think it was friend of his,” Greg
replied.
 
“Max something or
other.
 
From some Club.”