Free Illicit Liaison by Katelyn Skye

guilty of so much; do I even deserve to have a happy life?
    That thought surfaced and she shoved it back down just as quickly as it had reared its ugly head. No matter how tough she tried to be, or how uncaring of society’s rules her conscience was never completely quiet or at ease. Now was not the time to suffer an attack of conscience, if need be she would steal the crown jewels to get Jamie back safely.
    Was she safe? The men they were dealing with may very well have killed her. Lolita had tried to reach the couple who had taken care of her sister, and the desire to go to the villa they lived in had been incredibly strong, it was not that far from where she was standing, but to do so would be to risk their lives, if they were alive and she could not handle that guilt.
    “Do tell,” Darien said just as softly. The conversations and ecstatic cries riding the air covered their words effectively from anyone who may have been eavesdropping but he was not taking any chances.
    The man stepped a bit closer and his hand came out, in it was a plain black leather envelope. “Compliments of Madame,” he said softly. “There are clothes waiting for you and a car. Please leave now, before you cause any danger to the other guests.”
    Lolita knew their hostess must have found out something that frightened her for this turn of events to have transpired. She walked behind the man and in front of Darien, acutely aware of her nakedness, her wet pussy, and the marks on her back.
    Their escort led them down a labyrinth of corridors that terminated in a garage where only one car was parked. This must have been the entrance for the guests who wore the black velvet masks. Those people were royalty, politicians, and businessmen. They could not afford their predilections to become public knowledge.
    The car was a plain sedan, unremarkable in every way, a car that would sit in the garage of most middle-class families. The clothes they donned were inexpensive, Lolita found a black wig, cut in a plain style that allowed for a low ponytail and put it on. They also had colored contact lenses that they both stuck into their eyes with expertise.
    They looked over their new ID’s as they were trundled to the airport. They were a couple from Chicago. They had arrived a week ago and stayed at one of the least expensive places in the city. They had one backpack each, no suitcases and neither of them wore any jewelry except the plain dull gold wedding bands on their fingers.
    They both tensed when they approached the airport. Darien slouched a bit, shuffled his feet, and kept his knees slightly bent so that he appeared shorter while Lolita, dressed in several layers of shirts, appeared to be heavier than she was. Her face was darker thanks to a dab of foundation and when she spoke to the customs agent, she slid back into the Midwestern drawl she had grown up using.
    Neither of the were able to relax during the long security line, the interminable wait in the lounge by the gate and even when they were in their seats and securely buckled in they were still tense, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
    The name scrawled on the piece of paper had astounded them both. If anyone had ever seemed above reproach it was Jimmy Wyatt, the computer mastermind locked away in a federal prison for the rest of his life.
    Why would he have sold them out though? Lolita used him for her software, Darien had been one of his mentees in prison, and he too used Jimmy for his software needs. Why would Jimmy have sold off their secrets to a mobster like Antony Valente?
    The whole thing was odd and neither of them could grasp the point of the scheme. By the time they touched down in Chicago, they were weary and unable to consider the implications.
    They used a shuttle to take them to a nearby hotel, checked in, changed clothes and their appearances once more, destroyed the ID’s they had used to get on the plane, booked a last-minute flight to LA and hurried back to the