House of Trickery: There Was a House, #3

By Caddy Rowland

There Was a House saga is a gripping story about a very real crime taking place all around us.

Set in the dark, depraved world of sex-trafficking, this gritty, continuing psychological thriller and drama tells the story of six victims and their hope for revenge and redemption.

Book Three: House of Trickery

SECRECY

Jamie has a secret. A secret so dangerous he hasn't even told Phoenix. What’s the point? Without a sure escape, any retaliation is suicide—and he wants far more than retaliation.

He wants total destruction.

SCHEMING

And so Jamie painstakingly polishes his devastating plan. He’ll not only destroy Antoine and the horrific brothel, Rêve, he’ll also make the men who have used him and his friends wish they’d never been born. He has the time and talent to pull it off.

SUSPENSE

They’re so close! He can almost taste the blood of revenge—but any chance of safe escape continues to elude them all. There has to be a way out of this hellish nightmare, a final piece in the puzzle of survival. That piece needs to fall into place soon.

Hope is fading fast.

Sometimes all you have is hate. Sometimes that’s enough.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caddy Rowland
• Release date: Apr 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498999335

Caddy Rowland

The drama of humanity. We live, die, love, hate, win and lose in a never-ending variety of ways. Often those ways are heart-wrenching. Other times they are not. Why do people make the choices they do? Why do some abuse power? How do the powerless learn to survive? Why do a few dare to be different, while others conform—and why are so many disturbed by those who don't? These are the questions that have always haunted author Caddy Rowland. Those questions keep her pounding away at her keyboard, creating novels showcasing the sublime joy and bitter tragedy of being human. Caddy has always been a nonconformist. She likes to push the proverbial envelope when it comes to characterization and world building. Heroes have warts; villains have soft spots. Main characters don't always learn their lessons because all too often we don't, either. There isn't always a happy ending, but sometimes there is. Otherwise she'd be predictable. She writes for readers who like to think and feel; who like their stories to be raw, graphic, unpredictable, "real" and sometimes brutal. For readers who like their boundaries challenged; to be shown how rarely life decisions are truly black and white, but instead shades of grey. Think of a carnival midway with books instead of rides. She asks you make sure you're the minimum height if you plan on riding alone. You must also leave prejudices and inhibitions behind the entry gate. If you can’t, Rowland's reads might be a tad much for you. Don't worry. There are plenty of safer reads out there. Just step out of the line and find a more appropriate book for your reading enjoyment. No, Caddy Rowland's novels aren't for everyone. But then again, they just might be for you. Sign up for new book release information by copying and pasting this in your browser: http://eepurl.com/rfjaX

Book preview

There Was a House

Episode 3

House of Trickery

By Caddy Rowland

Book Description

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Jamie has a secret. A secret so dangerous he hasn't even told Phoenix. What’s the point? Without a sure escape, any retaliation is suicide—and he wants far more than retaliation.

He wants total destruction. 

He wants every business associate, friend, and family member to know the dirty secrets of the men who cavalierly use him and his friends, all victims of sex trafficking. Those men are monsters, and he will make sure their brutal crimes are exposed to the world.

And so Jamie painstakingly polishes his devastating plan. He has the time and talent to pull it off. They’re so close! He can almost taste the blood of revenge...but any chance of safe escape continues to elude them all.

There has to be a way out of this hellish nightmare, a final piece in this puzzle of survival. That piece needs to fall into place soon. Hope is fading fast.

Episode 3 of There Was a House saga, a continuing story of revenge and redemption.

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This book is dedicated to all underdogs. Keep going. You’re worth it.

Pretty Boy Plays Rough

July 2002

I

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Since he was a prisoner in the secret room until whenever Phoenix came into her bedroom, Jamie began working in earnest on his laptop. He had already wiped the original system clean in order to make sure there weren’t any viruses on there from a previous owner. The guy they bought it from said it had never been used, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He had also stubbed out an Ethernet port.

Then, with electro-tech music banging in his ears, Jamie built his new computer exactly the way he wanted it. Using his pet operating system, Linux, he installed a virtual machine on the server. Next he began coding his own security and penetration tools. Forget Windows and Apple operating systems. Those were for amateurs. Jamie used Slackware Linux. Additionally, he hand-coded and compiled his own software to monitor, record, and penetrate security systems he would need—no matter what firewalls, or tricky things like honeypots, were thrown at him. His own talent provided him the absolute best way out there to assure himself of effective tools which would leave no tracks of his presence. By the time he was done, it would be quite a collection. In fact, he doubted if many out there had anything even remotely close to it.

Jamie found himself grinning in spite of the pain. He felt real pleasure about finally being on the way to building a major part of what he knew would ultimately destroy the men who frequented Rêve—even more importantly, the despicable owner of the place.

It wasn’t the first time he had built this software he affectionately called Spyfly, but it would be the most important hacking he would ever do. Once he had everything built up to his standards, he would begin to collect data he would use for the ruination of many important men. And then? Smiling bleakly, Jamie announced, Antoine Chevalier, say hello to the real Peter Pan. Only, this time, Peter will be Robin. You know the guy—the one who steals from the rich to give to the poor? No big deal on the name mix-up. One fable is as good as another. He stopped to chug down a half can of Mountain Dew. Caffeine was of utmost importance right now. He’d worry about needing to pee later. The thing is this won’t be a fable, asshole. This will be your worst fucking nightmare.

It would take some time. He would be building his collection, finding accounts he wanted, and flawlessly hacking into them. Then more time would be spent setting up a few other gems—not to mention gathering video footage. The time needed was not an issue. Time was something he had plenty of right now. He would need to remember that, and not cut corners. He couldn’t relax for one second and chance getting shut down. This was too important. In fact, it would quite likely be the biggest thing he’d ever in his life do.

Jamie popped open another can of cold caffeine rush from the small cooler he’d brought in. Wiping his mouth, he began once again to code.

Increased pain let him know more time had gone by than he would have liked. Jamie had turned off the music earlier, realizing he wouldn’t know if Phoenix came upstairs if he had his favorite Blunt Force Trauma songs blowing his ears out. Now he hoped she hadn’t come up before he was smart enough to realize the music should be off. If so, he’d probably missed his chance to get out before her work was over, and she was coming to bed.

His bladder competed with the pain in regard to sending him a message— a message warning him he needed to get to a bathroom. Pretty soon he’d have to use an empty soda can. Gross. He glanced at the time on the computer: a little after midnight. He’d been at the keyboard for several hours. Had Phoenix come up while he was blissfully working away, listening to music on earphones? She would have knocked. When he didn’t answer, she would have made her way to the carriage house to see if he was painting, although she knew he should be watching the monitor to make sure the new set-up was recording. Once she found him absent from the carriage house, she would have returned, knocking a bit louder. Not hearing a response, she would have given up—worried he had tried to escape, after all.

He had to hope she hadn’t gone through any worry at all. Fuck! How could he have been so stupid as to put those earphones on, when he knew he needed to listen for Phoenix?

Calm down. You have a lot of your mind. It was an easy mistake to make. Saying it out loud didn’t make him feel any better. Another wave of pain flowed through him, making him press his eyes shut.

Please, Tink. Come check on me, Jamie whispered.

A few minutes later he blessedly heard the bedroom door open, along with the unmistakable click of Phoenix’s heels as she headed toward the closet. He was so relieved he almost cheered. Then he remembered the need for quiet. At least he’d remembered that in time.

Soon the closet door opened, and only seconds later he heard her quietly ask, Jame?

Yeah, he answered back, keeping his voice down. Hurry and open up! I’ve been locked in here for hours!

The door immediately clicked open. Jamie pushed past her questioning face with a curt, Don’t ask!

Making a beeline for the bathroom, he grabbed his pain pills on the way. After relieving himself, he downed two, followed by a glass of water and a few saltines he kept next to the bottle.

I’m hungry! Jamie tried to force a grin, so Phoenix wouldn’t know he hurt again.

The grin didn’t fool her.

Jame, you’re hurting! I can tell. Did you forget to take your pills, or were you trying to go without again? You know what the doctor said; you need to stay on top of the pain.

Jamie bit back the retort on his lips. It wasn’t Tink’s fault he’d gotten locked in. Why jump all over her?

Taking a deep breath, he replied, Neither. I forgot the pills, but got up from the computer right away to go get them. Unfortunately, the door was stuck shut. I couldn’t get out until now.

Oh, Jame! I should have checked on you sooner. I’m sorry. Here, let me help you lie down.

I don’t want to lie down. I want to eat. He forced himself to smile. Thanks, but I really need to eat. Oh, and don’t apologize. How were you to know? If I know Rêve, perversion and revelry were in full swing like usual. I’m sure you were busy.

It’s crazy. This is the first time I could get away. Anyway, how did the cameras work? Any issues?

They worked fine. I had your laptop up next to my new laptop, so I could watch at all times.

Isn’t that what your laptop is for? she asked innocently.

Shit.

Yes and no, he lied. It can be, but remember I’m using it for storage, back-up, and other things. Plus, I had to get it set up. I couldn’t afford to keep the rooms from view while doing so.

Good thinking.

Everyone minded their manners tonight, at least as far as manners go when visiting a whorehouse.

Why don’t you get in bed? We can go the rest of the night without someone watching the cameras. After all, we’ve gone many a night without them. You’ve verified they work. I’ll bring you up a tray. How hungry are you?

How hungry are most teen-age boys?

Well, I don’t know. You’re giving me my first experience with feeding one.

I’m starving.

I’ll get you a burger and some salad. And some milk! You drink enough soda and coffee.

Fuck the salad. I’m slender, and I want fries—not some dumb old salad.

Phoenix sighed. Fine. But I insist on the milk.

Deal.

As soon as Phoenix left, Jamie went and shut his computer down, bringing out her laptop. Then he stripped, put on some jogging shorts, and climbed into bed.

By the time Phoenix returned with his food, the pain pills had done their job. Jamie was fast asleep.

Jamie? She was unsure which he needed more, sleep or food. He really needed to take better care of himself, she thought worriedly.

Umphf.

Do you want to eat?

Mhaaaf...huh? One eye opened and he stared at the plate in her hands. Eat, he said, sitting up and taking the plate. Then I’m going to crash.

Don’t get food all over our sheets.

I won’t.

Jamie scarfed down the food, got up, brushed his teeth, and was asleep again before twenty-five minutes had past.

Sometime after closing, Phoenix sat across from Antoine, fuming. Once again he had proceeded to get blasted during business hours last night. He’d bailed out by eleven, leaving her to handle everything. His drinking was going to be an even greater problem now. They had security cameras installed in every private entertainment room. How was she supposed to step behind the scenes and watch the cameras, if Antoine wasn’t around to cater to their high maintenance customers? She couldn’t be two places at once.

He had come back down now. Of course. The place was now closed, and Phoenix had finished tallying up the money from the previous evening. How helpful of him. Regardless, she didn’t need him breathing down her neck during the accounting process. If it got to be a habit, she wouldn’t be able to continue funneling money into each of the secret accounts she had set up for her and the other captives.

Captives. The word would seem a misnomer to the patrons of Rêve. Those men thought the girls who worked there had it made; with the luxurious surroundings and many gifts they were given. Oh, in the back of their mind most realized the whores they used were not there by choice. The fact was conveniently discarded in order for them to fully enjoy their selfish pleasures without having to feel guilty once the afterglow wore off.

Regardless of what the customers chose to believe, Antoine was their captor—and every one of them dreamed of the day they’d be free to walk out the door of Rêve and never look back. She bet even Miu would like to be on her own, even though she seemed to enjoy what she did.

Antoine mopped his face, grumbling about the air conditioning not working right. He looked as drunk as he no doubt was.

Fucking air conditioning, he complained. It’s only a few years old.

Antoine, there’s nothing wrong with the air conditioning. You’re still drunk, but starting to get a hangover. Want to tell me something new?

Watch your mouth, he warned. Then he attempted to laugh, which quickly made him wince. Although I guess you’re right. God, I feel like a dozen carp died in my mouth. He turned green. Be right back.

She could hear him retching in the small bathroom off their office. Fabulous. Making a mental note to ask the cleaning staff to rescrub that particular room, she gathered her thoughts to make a case for keeping Jamie off the floor.

The boy still had some recuperating to do. He wasn’t healing as fast as Dr. Calcort had previously hoped. His ribs still bothered him a lot, and so did the area where his spleen was. It would be at least two months more before he could be expected to whore.

If she had her way, he would never have to do so again.

At least he looked better. With the bruises all faded his face was lovely again. He also finally walked normally, instead of with hesitation, silently screaming pain. Now if only he could be kept from having to submit to more abuse at the hands of johns. Too many used him hard, as if doing so would make them no longer desire a male. Phoenix didn’t think his delicate body could take much more. He wasn’t even fully mature yet.

When she thought back to earlier last evening, Phoenix couldn’t help but smile. Jamie had done an ace job installing the surveillance equipment. He was much smarter than he let on. But then, she’d suspected for awhile he was extremely intelligent. She briefly wondered if he had additional plans for the equipment they had ordered. Then she decided if he wanted her to know, he’d fill her in when he felt it was time to do so.

Besides, what could he do? Going online and pleading for help would be suicide—not just for Jamie, but for all of them. No, she reminded herself again, he was smart. He wouldn’t jeopardize any of their lives. There was probably nothing else he was planning. Once again, she just had to be patient and watchful. Maybe the secret tunnel was the way out, and they just didn’t know it yet. Anyway, even if it was a way to get out, until Antoine was destroyed getting out meant nothing. He’d find them and—at best—they’d be hauled back to Rêve. She didn’t want to consider the other possibilities.

Antoine shuffled back into the office, the requisite guilty look on his face. It was the look he wore most mornings now. The look said he knew he’d been lax regarding his responsibilities the night before, and he absolutely wouldn’t let it happen again.

Phoenix, I know I got carried away. I promise tonight—

Don’t bother, interrupted Phoenix, holding up a hand. I’ve heard it too many times. Besides, it’s your business, remember? She gave him a weak smile, not wanting to play it too overboard. I know you’ve heard me lecture you before. I’ve come to realize this: you give me a lot of freedom in exchange for managing this place. If trust means I have to step in for you, so be it.

Antoine looked at her suspiciously. What’s the catch?

There’s no catch, Antoine. She looked at him guilelessly. You and I both know I’m just as capable of handling any possible scenario as you, perhaps more so. I have a knack for it. She silently added, yeah, just like I understand responsibility and hard work, which you don’t. Shrugging, she added, "You’re a big boy, dear. I’m sure you’ll know when there’s a danger of your drinking possibly getting out of control. Until then, I can do it—but there is one problem, which I can easily solve."

Antoine rolled his eyes. See? I knew there was a catch. Here comes the snide remark, or the threats warning me how everything is going to crumble. Just remember who you’re talking to. His attempt at looking intimidating was unfortunately ruined by the green tinge on his face.

Dick. I know quite well who I’m talking to, fumed Phoenix. You still look ill. Sit down, and let me explain. It’s nothing like you imagine. It’s a work issue—and one I already said I have an answer to.

Antoine gratefully collapsed onto his plush office chair. Phoenix poured him a cup of coffee, sliding it across the desk. After he’d taken a drink and lit yet another clove cigarette, Phoenix began.

The issue is the new surveillance cameras.

"I knew that little fairy wouldn’t know what he was doing! I shouldn’t have let you talk me into letting him install them! What did I say—"

Calm down! The system works perfectly. There’s were our issue lies. If I’m going to need to be constantly on the floor, who’s going to check the cameras to make sure the whores are safe? Oh, I know I could check them sporadically. What good does it do to check once, maybe twice a night? In between times, one of them could be dead in a room after bleeding to death. We spent the money; now let’s use the system to our full advantage.

What do you have in mind?

Phoenix knew she had him. Anything to guarantee he wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t choose to.

I think those cameras need to be monitored constantly, during all business hours. How else can we be assured the girls are safe?

We can’t, but we also can’t take the chance of hiring some outsider to sit and watch them, only to find out they blabbed about us spying on customers! I thought you were smart, Phoenix. He rummaged around in his desk drawer. Damn it, where’s my flask!

It’s right behind you on the credenza. I filled it while you were in the bathroom.

Blushing, he replied, Oh. Well, next time put it where I can see it! Christ! He hastily grabbed it and took a swig, not meeting her eyes.

We can use Jamie. He can watch the monitor at all times.

Jamie again. I swear you have the hots for him! Antoine stubbed out his cigarette angrily. How does Jamie make me money sitting on his ass watching a monitor? That very ass should be making me money in a much more profitable way.

Well, first of all, Doc says he’s healing slower than first planned. He’ll be out for at least another two months.

"Now it’s