Alex sighed. “No, he wouldn’t. But he doesn’t mind if you wish to use it to do something that doesn’t reveal anything identifiable about yourself.”
Annabelle’s ire was mounting. She knew where this was heading and it really rankled. “Like what, Alex?” She asked, keeping her tone even.
Alex swallowed. He shrugged. “Like shop?”
Annabelle stared at him. “Shop?” She asked. Her voice had lowered to a whisper. “Shop?” She stood slowly, and Alex stood with her. She looked up at him, so used to Jack’s towering figure that Alex’s lesser height didn’t so much as phase her.
“What is it with you men?” She went on, moving around the chair and effectively forcing Alex to step back. His expression had become distinctly nervous. Annabelle’s voice hadn’t raised above that deceptively calm whisper, but goose bumps were riding up his arms.
“I’m in a cage, Alex. I’ve lost everything I’ve ever known.” Suddenly, as if saying as much drained what little strength she had, Annabelle stopped in her tracks and sighed. She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. “Even Jack.” She whispered. “So, unless you can buy freedom and a second chance on Craig’s List, I think I’ll pass for now.”
Alex watched her standing there, seeming so diminished. Like a flower without the sunlight.
Make her happy, Alex. I don’t care what it costs or what she wants – as long as she doesn’t leave the complex. Just make her happy…
Jack Thane’s orders echoed in his head. Alex racked his brain as he watched Annabelle Drake head back to the chair she’d risen from and sink down into it once more. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. Her pale lips parted. Alex recognized exhaustion when he saw it. And this exhaustion was mental as well as physical. Sitting there in a shaft of sunlight, her gold hair shimmering in waves around her pale features, she looked like a fallen angel.
She put her fingertips to her temples then and began to rub. Her brow furrowed.
Alex took a deep, slow breath and chewed on the inside of his cheek. And then his hazel eyes brightened with an idea.
“Have you ever had a massage, Miss Drake?”
That got her attention. She sat up and blinked. Sunlight reflected off of the amber specks in her almond eyes. She turned to face him.
“What?”
“There is a woman here in town who gives incredible deep tissue massages. Mr. Thane has used her several times.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m just shooting in the dark here, but I wondered if it would make you feel more comfortable.” He paused, then added, “help a little with that headache you have?”
Annabelle watched him for several long moments. And then she blew out a sigh. “Actually, I’ve only had one massage in my whole life and it wasn’t deep tissue.” She turned back toward the window and stared out at all of London below her. Her head was pounding. It had been doing that a lot lately. Her neck and shoulders were basically one solid knot from not sleeping. Tension.
A massage might be nice…
“She could come here?” She asked softly.
Alex straightened. “Yes,” he answered, trying not to sound too overly hopeful. “I can give her a call right now. She brings the table and everything.” He was about to go further in his explanation when his front jacket pocket vibrated against his chest. He took out the cell phone, opened it, and placed it to his ear. “Jackson.”
Annabelle watched him as his eyes widened. “He what?” He asked, his tone thoroughly surprised. “You’re shitting me.” He looked up at Annabelle and then turned away slightly, as if embarrassed that he’d cursed in front of her. This brought a smile to Annabelle’s face.
“No, I’ll deal with it myself. Trust me, you don’t want to be responsible for this one.” He closed the phone and replaced it in his pocket, returning his attention to Annabelle. “I have to go. But I’ll get the call in to Victoria on my way out. She should be here within the hour.”
Annabelle sighed and shrugged. “That sounds fine, Alex. Thanks.”
Alex watched her for another moment and then nodded. “Sit tight.” As he turned to leave, she called softly after him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alex shot her a glance over his shoulder and then left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Annabelle watched him go. Then she stood and quickly made her way to the door, taking care not to make any noise as she moved. She pressed her ear to the door and listened carefully.
“… Mr. Thane’s transportation… no, he’d kill you…”
Annabelle’s brow furrowed. She cupped her hands around her ear and concentrated.
“First time in something like twenty years, I think.” It was Alex’s voice. He was talking to one of the other men. There was movement too. A bag or jacket being zipped up. The metallic clinking of gun parts being checked and loaded.
“Jack Thane’s fallen off the wagon.” Someone laughed and then whistled low. “Wow. What do you make of that?” That voice belonged to a young man by the name of Simon Jeremiah. He’d only been working for Jack for a few years, if she had her information correct. He was Australian, in his early twenties, and the buff blonde was very much into surfing in his spare time. Which he had little of these days. Working for Jack Thane was no cake walk. But, rumor had it that the job paid very well.
“I think you know as well as I do what to make of it. It’s no mystery.” Alex crossed the room then, if Annabelle was hearing correctly. His boots made a specific sound on the hardwood floor in the den outside her room.
“You know the rules,” Alex went on. “She has free reign of every public area within the building, but she’s not to leave the complex. And if she steps out of this apartment, you’re not to leave her side. Not for anything.”
“You,” Alex said then, addressing someone else. “Call this woman and have her in Miss Drake’s quarters within the hour. Money is no concern. She knows the drill.” Alex’s tone of voice had changed to become more managerial and direct. He was giving someone orders.
“And you two will have to meet her at the door. Check for weapons. She’s used to that as well.”
Okay. So, if Annabelle was counting correctly, Alex had addressed three different groups of people. Simon was one of at least four men who would be left to guard her.
She stepped back from the door and took a deep breath. There was no way she could take out four men. With a gun, yes. Apparently, that much had been proven. But, in any other way, shape or form, not a chance. And she couldn’t shoot those guys anyway.
She was screwed on using this opportunity as an escape route.
Which made her wonder about a few things. She paced across the room to a door on the opposite end and went through. Beyond was a complete in-home gym, set up with a steam room on one end and a sauna on the other. Between the two, against the wall, was a roiling, boiling hot tub, steaming and waiting to relieve the ache of inflamed muscles.
She ignored all of those things and headed for the rack of weights instead. She lifted a twenty pound dumbbell in each hand and began to curl them. As she did so, she stared blankly at herself in the mirror and wondered why she wanted to escape so badly. Where would she run to? And how long, exactly, did she think she would be able to remain missing before someone – before Jack – found her?
Not long.
Jack…