Scarlet Rendezvous - Sex Stories

Scarlet Rendezvous

... Kyle. You have no idea."

"Me too. I haven't slept in 24 hours."

"They're going to kill her. We have to do what they say."

"I know. I'm trying."

"Please don't do anything stupid, Kyle. I know you might feel like you have something to prove, but promise me you won't take matters into your own hands. Just give them what they want."

Briggs motioned to me with his hand. He wrote something down on the white board next to him. It said, ASK HER WHERE SHE IS

"Where are you?" I said.

"I'm at the club. I was working when they called."

"At the Four Aces?"

"Yes."

"You went to work today?"

"Yes. I wanted to keep busy. To keep my mind off things."

Briggs wrote on the white board: SHE'S IN FLORIDA, NOT NEW YORK

The call dropped. I looked at Briggs. The other guys had huddled around me in the van.

My phone started vibrating. Someone was calling. It was an unlisted number.

I picked up. "Hello?"

"Did you get the money?" the voice said. It was distorted like before. Briggs wrote on the white board: KEEP THEM ON THE PHONE

"Hello?" I said. "Hello? I can't hear you."

"I want my fucking money, or she dies. No bullshit. $3 million!"

"Where? Where do I transfer the funds?"

"You'll get that information tomorrow. When the banks open. For now, take down this address: 17707 NW Miami Ct, Miami, FL 33169."

Briggs wrote on the white board: MIAMI TRUCK STOP OFF I95

"What am I supposed to do at that address? Hello? Hello?"

The call ...

... dropped.

Briggs was at his laptop, headphones at his ear.

"Did you get it?" I asked him.

"No."

"Fuck!"

My cellphone rang again. "Hello?"

"Dad?" the voice said. It was Karina.

"Karina? Is this you baby?"

"Yes. I'm scared, dad. They're hurting me. You have to do what they say."

"I'm trying. Where are you?"

"Please do what they say. Give them what they want."

"Where should I send the money? I need an account number."

"The banks are closed. They'll call you back tomorrow."

"Okay. Can you ask them what that address was before? The one in Miami? Is that where they're going to bring you?"

"I need to get off the phone. They're telling me to hang up."

"Karina?"

"Sorry, dad. I Have to hang up. I'm sorry!"

The call ended.

Briggs was staring at me, shaking his head. "Holy shit," he said. "I don't fucking believe it."

***

The guys were in place, and we were ready to move in. Karina's call had pinged off the cell tower right behind the Tampa General Hospital, but she wasn't there now. She was inside room 135 of the Motel 6 on Island Drive in downtown Tampa. We'd tracked her there, and were running surveillance as we secured the parameter of the building -- placing two of our guys in the back alley and two at the front entrance.

I was at the front door of the motel, Glock in hand. I knocked, ducking out of view of the peephole.

No one answered.

I banged harder. No answer.

"Ready?" I said to Briggs.

"Ready."

We kicked in the ...