House of Shame: There Was a House, #4

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 Four (Conclusion): House of Shame

REVENGE.

Phoenix and Jamie have been plotting to devastate her captor and destroy his brothel of under-aged sex-trafficking victims ever since arriving at Rêve. But the beating he recently gave fans the flames of hatred into a firestorm. Now, to their delight, plans to accomplish exactly what they’ve been hoping for are in place—and the results will be brutal. Even better, every depraved man using them for sex will be revealed for what they are to their family, friends, and business associates.

RETRIBUTION.

They know the plans must play out flawlessly. Any unforeseen glitches will likely mean not only an end to escape, but of their very lives. However, perfection seldom exists. Something is bound to go wrong.

RUIN

And when it does, Jamie will be left wondering if he’s just signed their death warrants.

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

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caddy Rowland
• Release date: Oct 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501437779

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 4

House of Shame

By Caddy Rowland

Book Description

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Phoenix has been plotting to devastate her captor and destroy his brothel of under-aged sex-trafficking victims ever since arriving at Rêve. But the beating he recently gave her over some bank accounts fans the flames of hatred into a firestorm. Now, to her delight, plans to accomplish exactly what she’s been hoping for are in place—and the result will be brutal. Even better, every depraved man using them for sex will be revealed for what they are to their family, friends, and business associates.

Phoenix, Jamie, and the other captives know the plans must play out flawlessly. Any unforeseen glitches will likely mean not only an end to escape, but of their very lives. However, perfection seldom exists. Something is bound to go wrong.

And when it does, Jamie will be left wondering if he’s just signed all their death warrants.

**Content Warning: This drama contains adult themes and scenes that deal with a difficult topic.

***

House of Shame

By Caddy Rowland

On Your Mark

I

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Trip ten’s, announced Elliot, as he reached for the pile of chips in the middle of the table.

Randy looked like he could bite the head off a rattlesnake. Well, I’ll be goddamned. You have a horseshoe so far up your ass it isn’t even funny, he complained. Here I sit with aces and nines, thinking I’ve got it sewn up, and you’ve got a pair of tens to go with the ten on the board.

I got lucky.

Yeah—and I got rivered. Randy threw his hands up. Looking at the dealer, he asked, How many damn times are you gonna do that to me tonight?

The young woman kept her composure, giving him a sympathetic smile. I’m sorry, sir. I only deal the cards out. It seems your good luck streak took a turn for the worse about six hands ago.

You deal ‘em out and put voodoo on ‘em, Randy grumbled. Still, he pulled a twenty dollar chip off his pile and slid it to her. No hard feelings. You’re a lovely girl, even if you can’t deal.

Lora kept the smile on her face. She wanted to tell him she’d outgrown being a girl a few years ago, and dealing cards had nothing to do with being lovely, but decided the tips were more important than making a point about sexism. Thank you, sir. Prick. Stick around another hand and you’ll see what getting rivered means.

Lora mostly dealt straight, but when someone truly pissed her off, she had the skill to deal less than honest without getting caught. Usually. Lora knew trying anything less than honest wouldn’t go unnoticed at this table. The red-haired man’s eyes took in every movement. She wouldn’t cheat him, but he still might comment if she set up someone else to lose.

Randy wasn’t about to give up on his litany of bitching. What the fuck! Rivered or not, what person stays until the river with just a pair of tens? The ace came on the flop. You had to know you were beat—up until the river.

Elliot refused to take the bait. Just had a hunch in my gut, that’s all. Never claimed to be a wise player.

Ha! Yeah, right. You shouldn’t be allowed at the same table as most people. You’re too damn good.

Bill, who for once had garnered the sense to drop, added, Most people know better. Obviously you and I don’t.

The others at the table remained silent. They didn’t know the reputation of the man named Elliot—yet. If they played at the same tables as he did often enough they would learn to fear him. They were good, but he was better.

Elliot was more patient. At a table where everyone knew odds and could read tells patience could separate the truly great from the pretty damn good. He wasn’t patient in the sense that he only played good hands. His patience was in taking the time to read the players at the table, judge their moods, and plan an appropriate strategy. He may decide to play conservative just long enough to convince them any hand he stayed in was solid. Or he might play a few doing some wild bluffing, allowing himself to get caught several times, only to knock down the defenses of the others at the table. Then, just when they’d gotten comfortable calling his every bid, he’d hammer them with a big hand.

His playing style depended on many things. The only thing others could be certain of was Elliot Brennan never stuck to one style of play. They both hated and respected him for it. The man himself most people liked quite well. But his playing style? It gave them indigestion as he slowly carved away at their confidence in their own playing ability.

As the evening wore on, Bill and Randy left. They had each managed to win a few hands, making their banter lively as they exited. Wow, thought Elliot. If they can win at this table, I’m not leaving until the rest of these men decide they’ve had enough. It’ll be like my own personal ATM machine.

Smiling, he pushed a pile of chips out on the table. All in.

To his delight, three men stayed.

Elliot noticed it had been some time since his sister had been out walking the floor. She had gone into the private office some time ago. It wasn’t like her to stay out of the public areas for long.

The fine hairs on his neck stiffened. Antoine had come back out a couple of hours ago, after another man had knocked on the office door and left again. Chevalier had been in the office when Phoenix entered. It wasn’t like Antoine to watch the floor himself. He was much too lazy.

Calm down, Elliot scolded himself. He probably has Phoenix doing paperwork. There had to be a lot going on behind the scenes of a place like Rêve.

Elliot waited several minutes, hoping the warning bells in his head would switch off. When they didn’t he cashed in, much to the other players relief, and went in search of Antoine. He couldn’t very well ask where Phoenix was, but he could make up an excuse for wanting to talk to her.

As he walked toward the bar he saw the man he was looking for. Putting a smile on his face, Elliot asked, Do you know where I could find Phoenix?

Right away he noticed the other man stiffen up. Phoenix? Why? Can I help you with something?

Thinking quickly, Elliot said, I don’t want to trouble you with such details. I’m looking to reserve the private dining room for something and wanted to discuss menu options. He shrugged. I doubt you need to use your time on things like food choices for a dozen men.

Antoine was irritated. He had no clue what Phoenix did to set up private parties, nor did he want to learn. Still, he didn’t want a customer to know he was out of touch with the workings of his business and couldn’t even schedule a dinner event.

Also, Phoenix wasn’t presentable. Not after the altercation she’d found herself in with him earlier.

Clearing his throat, Antoine said, You’re right. I don’t often handle those things. I’m usually overseeing other details. I could help you if it can’t wait, but your chances of things going smoothly would be best if you talk with Phoenix. A woman’s touch, you know.

Well, great. Can you tell me where she is?

Um, well, she isn’t available the rest of tonight—or should I say this morning? He gave Elliot an oily smile. I’m afraid my Phoenix came down with a migraine and is sleeping. She’ll be resting several hours, as she takes medicine for those god-awful things.

Oh? I thought I’d seen her going into the office, but hadn’t seen her come back out. I hoped by asking you’d maybe go request her to come out.

Antoine gave Elliot a long, hard look. You certainly seem to keep track of her. Can’t you find better things to do with your time here at Rêve?

Elliot laughed softly. Of course. Had I not wanted to speak to her I doubt I’d have noticed her at all.

Well, she’s sleeping, as I said, but in the office. We’d been going over the books and she spiraled downhill. I suggested she take her medicine and lie down in the office, thinking that way she wouldn’t be stopped by any of our customers on her way up to bed. When I left she was sleeping soundly.

Ah. Well, that explains it then. I can certainly wait until tomorrow night. Please give her my regards. I hope she feels much better quickly.

Of course. Now, please excuse me, I have something in the kitchen to look into.

Like a bottle? Elliot smiled slightly as the jibe entered his mind. Nodding, he turned away.

As he flagged down a cab, his mind kept going back to his sister. Something had happened. It wasn’t good. If that bastard had hurt his sister—

You gettin’ in or not? The cabbie’s annoyance showed clearly on his face. I haven’t got all day while you stand around daydreaming.

Elliot bit back a sharp reply. To be fair, he had been standing there wasting the guy’s time. Sorry, he offered, as he jumped in the taxi.

Eh. No problem. I just have the boss breathin’ down my neck if I don’t bring in enough fare. You know how it is. Glancing in the mirror at his rider he then added, No, you probably don’t.

Don’t let the clothes fool you. I’ve had my share of years working for a hard-ass. Only difference being the hard-ass was my old man. Same shit, different title.

The cabby grinned in the mirror as he ran a red. You finally tell him to blow you?

No. I left home on a college scholarship. I always meant to tell him to blow me, but by the time I finally came home he’d died.

The cabbie winced. Sorry.

Don’t be. The world’s a better place now.

The rest of the short ride was accompanied by silence.

II

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Phoenix shifted on the sofa in the Rêve office. No matter what position she tried, her body protested. It would take more than make-up to hide the ugly bruises sure to surface by tomorrow night. Even magic would cringe at the challenge.

Even so, she knew how lucky she was to be simply banged up and bruised. Death had been a stark possibility. Strike that. Knowing Antoine, death wouldn’t have been strong enough punishment. He’d have made sure she died, but it would have been drawn out; full of humiliation and suffering. It was a certainty he would have sold her off to some sadistic pimp out east, making the rest of her short life a study in brutality.

Dear God, when she’d seen a bank statement in his hand she’d thought she was going to vomit. Still the same, it was fortunate she’d decided to keep all those accounts with the same bank. If Antoine ever did suspect something she had reasoned it would be easier to explain then if he discovered secret accounts being kept with another bank behind his back.

Her mind replayed the whole horrific scene. As she’d stared at the statement in his hand, her vision had cleared from the blow he’d given her upon entering the office. At first she’d been confused, but seeing the statement explained everything. Before she could say a thing, he’d begun slapping her viciously after pulling her by her hair into standing position. The sudden kick to the ground had almost caused her to lose consciousness.

Looking up at him, she heard him commanding her to get up. Something about her future...and that she’d wish she was dead.

Shaking her head, Phoenix fought to stay lucid. She must take control of the situation before everything was lost. She must! They were extremely close now; it wasn’t possible they could get this close only to have everything implode. Or was it? So far not much in life had been fair. Perhaps once again Fate would stand by laughing at the unfortunate turn of events in her young life.

No. No, not if she had anything to say about it. Spitting out blood, Phoenix blocked her face with her aching arms.

Antoine! My love, please, what’s happening? What’s wrong? What’s wrong? She had the common sense to know if she started in about the statements with her first words she might as well sign a confession. What in the world have I done to deserve this? Her eyes searched his face for clues. Eyes finally landing on the bank statements, she continued, All this because I haven’t balanced the bank statement? Have you been doing too much coke? My God, I can’t balance statements and work the floor at the same time, I—

Antoine stopped mid-strike, hand in the air. He gaped at her like she was the one who’d gone insane.

Bank statements? You think this is about working on bank statements, you stupid cow?

Well, you’re holding a statement in your hand. What else am I supposed to think? she asked, trying her best to sound confused. Dear Lord, please, let my voice sound believable, she prayed. There wouldn’t be any chance for her and the others if this acting test failed.

You’re supposed to understand the game is up! I’m not an idiot, Phoenix. You may have thought I was. Hell, you may have even played me for awhile, but even I’m not dumb enough to overlook six separate savings accounts, all with identical amounts in them.

She remained on the floor, the stupid look on her face. And? I don’t understand why those saving accounts are causing us to have a fight. The tears streaming down her face didn’t weren’t forced. She was scared shitless. Please explain to me what I’ve done wrong! I thought I was running this place to the best of my ability!

What? Antoine now looked totally confused. Knock off the act, Phoenix. Six accounts, six whores. I know what you’re up to. He put down his hand, but his face told Phoenix he was still highly agitated. You thought you could embezzle money from me and find a way to escape. You thought you could trick me into thinking you cared!

Phoenix got to her knees. Oh, baby! Oh, no, how could you still think I’m trying to trick you? How many years has it been? She drew in a shaky breath. I just don’t know if I can take this anymore. No woman should have to take this abuse. My God, I’m hurt! And all because your deluded mind assumes things to be true which aren’t! She stood, holding herself against the desk. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore. Please, sell me to someone who won’t treat me this way. I don’t care where, just.... She sobbed. I can’t take anymore of this craziness!

Antoine scratched his head. Damn the woman, she sure looked sincere. He could swear she was in the dark about what he was accusing her of doing. He pulled out his flask and took a long drink. He was convinced it helped clear his brain. Her quiet sobbing didn’t grate on his guilt quite as much, and perhaps he should hear her out. After all, where was he going to find someone to run this place as well as she did?

He continued to glare at her, but the glare was not nearly as lethal looking. Explain these accounts to me, then. Six accounts didn’t just appear by magic!

Phoenix nodded toward the chair on the opposite side of Antoine’s desk. May I?

Of course, he snapped. Isn’t this your office, too? Or at least it was. You need to explain to me what these accounts are for. And don’t think for a minute I won’t know if you’re lying!

Phoenix collapsed in the chair, gasping as pain shot through her when she jolted her hips in the seat. You seem to think I’m lying all the time, anyway. I’ll tell you the truth. I always do.

Antoine slid the statement over her way. See the accounts? The identical amounts?

Of course I do! I look at these statements every month. The statements are always here, waiting for you to go over them at your will. I thought you knew about the accounts. I told you ages ago what I was doing.

Huh? Now he was truly baffled. Had he forgotten her mentioning savings accounts? No. He wouldn’t forget something about money. I wouldn’t have forgotten you mentioning six savings accounts! Don’t patronize me!

I’m not patronizing you! I should explain better, I guess. No, I didn’t specifically say ‘I am going to open six accounts, and they will all have identical amounts in them.’ I assumed you’d understand accounts would be opened. I told you after Amy went to the hospital a few years ago we needed to set money aside for medical bills. She looked at him carefully, allowing her concern to show. Are you saying you truly don’t remember? If you don’t, we need to consider addressing your drinking and snorting. If customers sense you’re falling apart we’ll lose status. Loss of status means loss of profits.

I’m not falling apart, for Christ’s sake, snapped Antoine. Damn it, had he actually zoned out about her mentioning this? It was quite possible. All the pesky details of running a business bored him senseless.

Well, then why don’t you remember? Phoenix asked softly. Antoine, you’re scaring me! Maybe you need to see a doctor in case there’s something wrong. I can’t imagine life without you, should there be a medical issue you’re not addressing. God, she might have laughed, had she not been in such pain. Life without him was all she did imagine. Let me call and make you an appointment.

No. There’s nothing wrong with me. If you mentioned it clear back when Amy was in the hospital, no wonder I don’t remember. That’s over two years ago! I have a lot on my mind, running this place. He blushed guiltily. Plus, we hadn’t been open long. I was still new at this. We both were. He lit a cigarette, causing the scent of clove to once again assault Phoenix’s nostrils. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled slowly, sucking his bottom lip while he did. Explain it to me again. I don’t see how six savings accounts have anything to do with Amy’s hospitalization.

She knew then she had him. Once again, things had been salvaged, but never had the stakes been as high. She must remind Jamie how guarded they both must be—even more so—from here on out.

Would you please give me a minute to clean up my face? I’m a mess, and my mouth’s been bleeding inside. Let me rinse it out here in the office restroom. Then I’ll be happy to explain things again. You need to understand what these accounts are for in case something should happen to me.

Sure, go ahead, but what’s going to happen to you? You’re young and in good health.

I know. But people are hit by cars, or other things can happen. I just don’t want you in the dark about any part of this business. After all, you’re the owner.

Phoenix limped into the bathroom. While she gingerly wiped her face off and rinsed her mouth, Antoine took another drink. His face burned with shame at the violent scene he’d just caused. Here she’d just been doing her job and he’d assaulted her—all because he had some stupid notion about her pulling one over on him. He should know by now Phoenix was committed to him and Rêve. How often did the girl have to prove herself?

He smiled sadly at Phoenix. I’m, ah, sorry about the overreaction, he said, nodding at her face.

She said nothing, gasping as she sat down. The pain would be gruesome for awhile.

"Okay, this is simple. I set up six savings accounts because you have me, Jamie, and the other four girls. You were right about an account for each of us. But absolutely wrong about what the accounts are for. These accounts are not only set up to cover medical costs for each of us should something come up. I’ve also put away quite a large sum in case any one of us needs to be replaced. I could become hurt or sick. As could Jamie. The other four? You know as well as