King Maker (King Maker 3)

Matt was the one to convince me to go. He said they would need to take pictures of my wounds along with blood samples to see what I’d been given if it wasn’t already out of my system. I grudgingly agreed.

After a grueling amount of time going over my story again and again in the presence of the lawyer someone had gotten for me, I was given over to nurses.

They’d taken pictures of my wounds before wrapping my wrists and taking blood samples. Finally, the police and my doctors agreed to let me go under caution even though I was the victim.

All the evidence had to be sorted through. It was my word against my captor’s who was also in the hospital.

According to my own story, I’d been kidnapped out of state without identification and means to obtain my own transportation. Thus, the case had been handed over to the FBI because it was a multistate crime.

Matt assured me the evidence was in my favor, especially with the marks around my wrists and throat.

Yet, I wasn’t allowed to leave the state and a hotel had been arranged. I’d yet to see Kalen. I had no idea if he was still in town, as I’d learned I was no longer in Pennsylvania, but Virginia.

The sky was bright blue when I finally left the hospital. Matt was busy and it was my lawyer who passed me a hotel room key once he parked out front of an upscale one.

If the place had looked anything like the rat trap I’d come from, I might have not gone in. But I was certain it had been selected by Matt or Kalen. Probably Kalen. I would have to thank him for it.

Turner was there to help me out of the car and I felt like I sleepwalked to my hotel room. It had to be a strong desire for a shower and sleep that kept me focused on the room number my lawyer had given me.

“If you need anything, I’m just a few doors down,” Turner said, reluctantly letting me go.

“Thanks,” I said and let myself in my room.

It shouldn’t have surprised me in the least that Kalen stood inside with his back to me.

Nine

Breaking the silence, I asked, “How is she?”

For a second, I thought he wasn’t going to speak. “She’s tough.”

I stopped myself from saying, I know. “Did they—”

“No,” he said, stopping me short of asking the question I didn’t really want to ask. Still, his answer was a relief.

The lift of that heavy burden had me close my eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Did she know who they were?”

“No,” he answered.

Matt stepped out into the hall. “I know you have questions.”

Turner and I shifted as one by the time Matt reached us huddled in a corner.

“I’m sure Turner told you that Bailey is okay and that she didn’t know the guy.” He paused with a pensive look while rubbing at his chin. “They should release her soon.”

“Do we have an ID on the guy?”

Matt looked at Turner as if he suspected I shared his little secret.

“I overhead the Feds saying he runs a fetish porn site. He has minor charges for assault and battery, possession, and theft. But nothing like this, though he’s suspected of working a human trafficking ring.”

“Do they think that’s what this is about?” Turner asked. “Human trafficking?”

The guy looked like he might be sick.

Matt agreed, “That’s what they think.”

“It doesn’t ring that way for me,” I offered.

“Exactly. Why would he bring her all the way here? It would be easier to pass her off right away if that was the goal. This was something else,” Matt said.

“Or someone else,” I suggested.

Matt finished my thought. “Someone else who’s still out there.”

Someone who most likely works for me that could have approved the bogus invoices and created the wires sending my money out to a numbered account that didn’t belong to me. Or has a person working for them on the inside.

Turner shoved a hand through his hair. “Bailey’s still not safe.”

Matt somberly said, “No, and that’s not our only other problem.”

I stood staring out the window into the growing sunlight waiting for Bailey. She’d been released and the lawyer had dropped her off downstairs. I probably shouldn’t be here, but I couldn’t stop myself from going to her room and using the key I had.

When the lock clicked, I didn’t turn around to face her. There were so many things I wanted to say and do. So many selfish questions I wanted answered.

At the faint click of the door closing, I stiffly said, “Are you really okay?”

Her whispered yes barely carried to my ears. Still I didn’t turn around.

“Kalen.” Her voice carried volume that time laced with pain. The kind that made me face her.

“Now isn’t the time for that.”