Chapter 10

She wakes in his bed like a true lover would. Her soreness reminds her of the intensity of their passion. She’s quiet in the still of the morning. And alone.

Fear of moving kept her from cleaning herself the night before. Now the sheets stink of their love making and it takes her a good bit of time to fully clean up in the shower. The water blasts from five directions in his shower, it takes her a fumbling minute to reduce it to a rainfall.

His robe is long enough to trip her, so she walks with it tied tight and bunched up like a princess running up steps.

Abby serves her breakfast alone. “Master Flaherty warned me you’d be up late. Get pissed last night?”

“Pissed? No.”

“Right, no, I mean pissed, as in sloshed? Blitzed? Shit-faced?” Abby clarified.

“Oh yeah, wasted, no, didn’t drink actually.” She chuckles. “Uncle Ryan wouldn’t let me.”

“Well something had you right buggered last night.” She smiles knowingly.

“Yeah...” Nicole props her cheek on her hand. She wishes he’d been in bed with her in the morning. What a strange thing to wish for. But just to talk. She doesn’t have any friends she can talk to about this. None of her friends back home can ever know. Besides, “home”? What is that anymore, anyways? All she has now is this crazy rich world. And she has him too. She smiles at the thought of him. But God, what if she is pr-. No, she can’t think about that now. It’s a lot to process, but she can’t get it off her chest because she has no one to talk to. Gah, she was thinking in circles and her bacon didn’t have any answers.

She idly spins her morning vitamin in her fingers, on the table, then stops it. “Abby?”

“Yes, miss?”

“What brand are these vitamins?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The multivitamins. This pill. What is the brand name?”

“I don’t know, it’s just a multivitamin.”

That makes her frown. “I mean but like, it comes in a bottle, right? What’s the name on the bottle that you open to bring me this pill that I take every morning?”

“I don’t know, I just get them from the cupboard.” Abby drew back to standing straight, her eyes widen. That’s odd ... That was a look of fear.

“Nevermind, it’s not important.” Nicole feels a dread deep inside her, trying to reach up in her mind. Something about this doesn’t set right with her. She decides she isn’t going to take her pill today, or ever again. “Do you know where Uncle Ryan is right now?”

“No mum, but if you want I can try to-”

Nicole cuts her off. “No, no worries. I think I’m going to go shopping.”

Abby stammers. “Oh, really? Wouldn’t you rather-”

Again, she interrupts. “That is allowed, right? I’m not a prisoner here or anything. I can still go shopping if I want to, right?”

“Of course not, miss.” Abby smiles, but she doesn’t mean it.

She gets up to go finish drying her hair and get ready.

Abby insists, “Let me just pack a snack for you and I can be ready in twenty.”

“You’re not coming with me.” Nicole’s eyebrows tell the story of her incredulity.

In the end, she did come with. They ride to the mall in a luxury vehicle. Nicole doesn’t have much choice, after all Abby has the credit card. Her own Apple Pay is set up to an account with like maybe $90 available in total. She isn’t really in the mood for shopping, with the anxiety welling, about maybe being preggers and still a bundle of nerves about what happened to her last night. But she puts on a show for Abby and tries to wear her down by going through shop after shop.

It seems to be working as Abby suggests multiple times that they should go get a coffee at Starbucks. Maybe have some snacks she’s packed.

Nicole wants nothing to do with those “snacks”. They’re probably laced with purple pill powder. Finally, a bit past one, she does consent to go to get a coffee, and orders a tea for herself. As soon as Abby sets her purchases and her bottom down on a chair, Nicole excuses herself.

Abby starts to get up to go with her.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, jeez.”

The Starbucks isn’t crowded like the last time she was here. There’s no way to get out the front without Abby seeing her. She waits until she hears Abby’s name called, watches her pick up the drink, then slips into the manager’s office.

“Uh miss, can I help you?” A portly woman in a starbucks uniform, working on a computer, looks up at her.

Thank goodness, there’s a door behind her leading to the back. “Sorry I’m late. My name wasn’t on the schedule.” She walks towards the door. “I’ll get my apron on, post haste!”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Ni-Katelyn? New hire. Again, sorry.” She pops through to the back as the portly woman is trying to get up and stop her. Once through, her eyes dash around and find another door. She darts through it even as she hears the woman coming after her with a series of increasingly panicked excuse-me’s.

The door opens up into a long hall with white walls and fluorescent bulbs, she grins, thankful that all malls seem to be made the same. She follows the hall until she comes to a door that doesn’t have the name of a business establishment on it and walks through, out into the mall and free at last.

That was the extent of her plan. She walks through the mall feeling a wobbly kneed excitement of being alone and free for the first time in a while. Now what?

She’s considering hiding out in the movie theater while she thinks, when an oddly familiar voice mutters to her. “That was pretty slick back there, Nicole.”

She nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of her own name. He’s black, wearing shades, and walking next to her.

“Chill chill chill.” He pulls off his shades.

“Clayben?”

He puts them back on. “Come on. We need to talk.”

They find another doorway and she’s back in another white fluorescent hallway for the second time today.

“As I was saying, that was pretty slick ditching your babysitter back there.” He smiles.

“Jesus, you were watching me? You were following me?” Her panic is quickly rising and she’s doubly doubting why she went with him to the hall.

“Relax, okay, yes, I’ve been following you. I have been needing to talk to you. It’s about your uncle.”

“Wait, no, no, no, who are you?”

“I need to know, are you safe? Have you been hurt or coerced in any way?”

“Uhm, no, but I’m starting to think maybe I was just kidnapped.” She throws sass at him despite feeling exceptionally vulnerable.

“Has he done anything, you know, inappropriate?”

The entirety of last night flashed before her memory. The club, the stern voice, the beating, and the fucking. She was struck for words.

“He has.” Clayben said as fact.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Listen, I’m going to take a big chance here. You gotta help me out. This is a life and death kind of secret, okay?” He raises his hand as he asks her discretion, but he doesn’t touch her. He wears the eyes of a man constrained, driven by clarity of purpose. “I work for the FBI. I’m undercover. I think your Uncle might be a very bad guy or at least into some very bad things.”

“You think I’m in danger?” She finished for him.

“I don’t know. At first, yes, but I think you’re in a unique position. A position to help me - to help the cause of justice.”

“How?”

“You’re his niece - blood relative. I believe, you are in the best position to shed light on what he does behind closed doors.”

“Wait, but don’t you have like, warrants and surveillance and stuff?” Suddenly the cold thought of cameras watching her last night seized her.

“It’s not easy to get a warrant signed without more than a bit of circumstantial evidence. That’s why I need you.”

“Is your name even Clayben? That’s a pretty stupid name, you know.”

“No it’s not my name, but that’s not important-”

“But really- Clayben? Is your real name Ben Clay?”

Annoyed, he snaps. “They thought having a unique name would give me a leg up trying to get in. Look, I need your help. I know this might be hard to hear, but I think your Uncle might be involved in a human sex trafficking conspiracy. Will you help me?”

“Jesus, bury the lead why don’t you?”

“Yes. Will you help?”

She smacks her head. “Jesus ... Jesus...”

Just like that, he drops a bag of proverbial bricks in her lap. After all, Ryan might be a little unorthodox, but human trafficking? That seems a little far fetched. She clams up, mind racing a million miles an hour. What if it’s true? What if she is being prepped as a sex slave? But no, that isn’t possible. Is it? She was the one who’d gotten so horny, she’d masturbated in front of him. She was the one who kept letting things get out of hand with other men. And dear goodness, it felt so good. That churning desire for sex, wasn’t artificially put there was it? No, he was the one who listened and paid attention to her. He was the one who was trying to help get her father out of prison. Or was this the real reason he didn’t let her go to school? He wouldn’t give her away or sell her or anything like that, right? Oh God. Her hands stray to her tummy as her anxiety ripples again. What if?

“I know, it’s a lot to process, but I need to know, Nicole. Can you help me?”

“I ... I’m sorry. I need to think about ... I just need to think.” She staggers back out to the mall. The stores swirl around her. She needs to think, she just needs to think.