Page 2 of Kiwi

Almost four hours later,I've passed out at least thirty VIP cards. Before returning to the penthouse, I decide to do a little shopping, and hopefully find something special to take back home as gifts.

Just as I'm placing my hand on the handle of the car door, I feel someone behind me. As I go to turn, a deep voice says, "Don't fuckin' move." Of course, I had to go and ignore his demand. Throwing my head back, I bash his face with the back of my skull, then quickly duck. Pivoting my body, I come up, throwing my shoulder into the guy's gut, knocking the attacker off his feet, slamming his big arse into the concrete wall behind him. The big son of a bitch clocks me in the side of the head with the weapon in his hand, causing my vision to blur. Another set of hands grasp me from behind as I stumble back a few steps. I raise my head to get a look at the man in front of me, but his face is hidden behind a mask. Struggling to break loose of the hold on me, I lift my feet off the ground, kicking the attacker in front of me in his nuts. I watch him fall to one knee, coughing, just as a thick arm wraps around my neck, restricting my airway.

"Goddamn, you're a wiry shit." The one with a hold on me grunts as I continue to struggle against him. His grip tightens. My vision grows fuzzy around the edges until I fade into darkness.

My lids feel heavy as I blink them open, and my fucking head is throbbing in pain. It takes me an extra second to get my bearings and realize I'm in a darkened room, with a dim light hanging above my head like a spotlight. My body is restricted, tied to a chair, with my hands bound behind me. I flex to gauge the tightness of the ropes, finding no wiggle room.

"You won't get out of here unless I let you go." A different voice from earlier breaks through the silence in the room. The screeching sound of a chair being dragged across the floor causes my skin to crawl. From out of the shadows, a man appears. I keep my eyes fixed on his bearded face as he straddles the seat. "You've got fight in you; I'll give you credit for that. Few have put my brother to his knees." He smirks a little, his accent thick, but I can't place it—southern maybe?

"Motherfucker kicked my dick." A tall black man steps into the light, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Who the fuck are you?" My eyes stay on the man sitting in front of me.

"Let's make this quick because I have shit to do." He opens the manilla folder in his hand, pulling out a stack of paper. He holds them three inches from my face. One by one, he shows images of me, standing and talking with various young women. "Every one of these young ladies went missing not long after these pictures were taken."

I feel all the blood drain from my face. Missing? "What? Listen. I don't have anything to do with those girls' disappearances."

The man looks at me for a few seconds. "I believe you."

I stare at him, then shift my eyes to his friend, who looks uninterested.

The bearded man sighs. "I know all about you, Tai Cooper from Raglan, New Zealand. Mother's name is Kora Cooper. Stepdad is Benjamin Cooper."

I interrupt him. "Dad. Benjamin is and always will be my dad. Not stepdad," I correct him, narrowing my eyes.

He continues, "You have three sisters. Graduated with honors, 4.0 GPA, loves to surf, helps his dad on weekends at his mechanic shop, and is tech-savvy," he pauses. "Should I continue?"

"So, if you know who I am, and know I don't know what happened to those women, then why the fuck am I tied to this chair while you interrogate me?"

Standing, he tosses the photos in his hand on the seat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. "You've unknowingly played a part in their disappearance." He takes a long drag from his cigarette. "Donovan Black is not who you think he is, and all these VIP parties he hosts are nothing more than a way for him to give his clientele what they want. You just so happened to come along, giving him the perfect opportunity and resource to make his entire operation easier."

"He used me, how?

"Good lookin' young man attracts a lot of attention from pretty young women. Convenient for him, wouldn't you say?" I'm doing my best to absorb what he's telling me. "Sorry, kid. You were a pawn. Our intel has your father being one of five men running a major sex trafficking ring."

My gut churns, and I feel like I may throw up. "How many?" I ask. When he doesn't answer, I look him in the eyes. "How many?"

He shakes his head. "You looking for a specific number since you've been in the picture? At least thirty."

His words sink in. How could I have been so fucking stupid? All this time, Donovan used me? What is more messed up is knowing that I have no one to blame but myself. I hang my head. How did I not see any of this? What will my parents think of me once they discover the world I've been living in for months? Corruption and lies. All of it right under my fucking nose, and I had no fucking clue. "What can I do to make things, right?" I ask, straightening my back while looking at both men.

"Helps us."

I don't hesitate. "I'm all in." Then he holds out his hand.

"My name is Riggs," he jerks his head toward his friend standing at his right, "and this is Wick."

"Cops?" My eyes dart between the two. Riggs scoffs, then Wick starts removing my binds, and I rub my wrists once freed.

"We need you to get us into that party tonight," Riggs presses.

"I can do that."

"Good," he scrubs his palm over his face. "He's grown to trust you. That being said, can you gain access to his personal office?"

"He doesn't allow anyone in his office, including me."

"Shit," Riggs grunts.