My Boss’s Sister: Make Her Mine Series-Book 3

by Winter, Alexis

  “Get a grip,” I whisper, turning back around. But I bump into something hard, causing myself to stumble backward several steps.

  I open my mouth to scream, but someone covers it. My eyes focus, and I find Decon holding me with one hand while using the other to cover my mouth. My eyes grow wide with fear, and I try pushing him away, but he’s too strong.

  “Shhhh, Val,” he whispers as he pulls me closer to him. I fight and thrash, kicking my arms and legs, trying to get away, but his hold doesn’t break.

  “Stop fucking around, Val,” he says low in my ear. “Don’t make me fucking hurt you.”

  But his words don’t calm the panic that’s being pumped throughout my body. Instead, it only fuels it to go faster as I notice he’s urging me toward a car that’s not mine. He opens the trunk, and it makes me fight even harder. I jab my elbow into his stomach, and he lets out a growl.

  “You fucking asked for this,” he says, using something to strike me on top of the head.

  My ears ring, my eyes blur and start turning black around the edges; pain washes over me as something hot runs down my face. The blackness takes over, and I lose consciousness.

  My head is pounding. I know I need to open my eyes, but I don’t want the light to make it hurt worse. I try to roll myself into a ball, but my hands are above my head, and they’re not moving. Then, the memories hit me. Leaving the party, being alone, Decon.

  My eyes pop open, and I find myself alone in a bedroom. My hands are tied to the headboard above my head. I pull against the zip tie, but it doesn’t budge. Tears flood my eyes as I look around me, trying to figure out where I am. It’s clearly a guy’s bedroom. There are clothes everywhere: on the floor beside the bed, hanging on the footboard, piling up on a chair in the corner. The walls are covered in artwork, everything from posters of classic paintings to new, modern stuff you can buy at the gallery I used to work at. There’s a small bedside lamp on the table next to the bed, and it lights up the room enough for me to see. I see a familiar Cubs hat hanging from the post on the footboard—it’s old, dirty, and worn. Immediately, I know I’m in Decon’s bedroom.

  Fuck. What is he going to do with me? Why now? If he was going to come after me, why did he wait so long? Why didn’t he do this after that night?

  I want to yell for help, but my instincts tell me not to. Instead, I look around me in hopes of finding something I can use to cut the zip tie off my wrists. While my eyes scan the area around me for scissors or a knife, I listen, hearing small thumps and taps from outside of the room.

  “What the fuck is the plan, Decon?” someone whisper yells.

  “I don’t know. I panicked,” Decon says. “I didn’t plan this.”

  “I’m not going to be a part of this. Get her out of here.” The door slams, causing me to jump.

  Seconds later, the bedroom door opens, and Decon walks in. His eyes land on mine and he freezes.

  “What are you doing with me?” I ask, voice strained.

  He shakes his head as he walks into the room and closes the door behind him. “This is all your fault. You know that?”

  “My fault?” I ask, surprise evident in my voice.

  “All you had to do was leave me the fuck alone. But you couldn’t do that, could you? You had to fucking tease me and make me think you liked me, that you wanted me.”

  “Decon, I—”

  “No, you don’t get to talk now. You don’t even know all the trouble you’ve stirred up for me, do you?” He’s towering over me, anger contorting his features.

  I open my mouth, but no words come out as I shake my head.

  “It didn’t make sense at first. Until I saw you at Hanger 10. You danced with one guy, then nearly got him beat up by another two guys. You’re playing all of them, aren’t you?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Bull shit! You’re playing them like you played me.” He reaches out and his palm lands hard across my face.

  Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. All he wants is to see me hurt. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “Bennet is my brother!”

  “Who’s the other guy? The guy that came up in here and beat my ass? The guy you left with last night?” He bends down so close that I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

  I shake my head, refusing to tell him a name.

  He reaches out, and his hand wraps around my throat. He squeezes, not enough to stop my air supply, but enough to let me know he’s serious. “Who is he?”

  “He’s my boyfriend,” I croak out.

  He releases me. “He’s the one that has me being followed. He’s the one that came in here and stole from me. What’s his name?” he asks, bending back down.

  “Followed by who?” I ask, confused. I didn’t know Callan knew anything about Decon.

  “The police. He fucking tipped them off. I can’t go anywhere without seeing them watch me. Now, what’s his name?”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, pulling against the restraints.

  “I’m going to make him pay. Make him pay for what he took from me; make him pay for stealing you.” He climbs onto the bed, straddling me. “Tell me his name, Valerie.”

  “No. He didn’t steal me. I was never yours. I’ve always been his. He didn’t have to drug me to get me into his bed. That’s more than I can say about you!” I spit out.

  Something inside of him snaps, and he lets out this guttural yell as he reaches out and cups his hands around my neck, squeezing hard. I fight against him even though I can’t get air to my lungs. I wiggle and kick, trying to knock him off of me any way I can. But then, something flashes in his eyes and his lips turn up into a grin as his hands begin to go loose.

  He licks his lips as his eyes move up and down, taking me in. “I guess if you’re not going to give me what I want, I’ll take what should’ve been mine all along.” His hands release my throat, but then move down to the neck of my shirt, pulling in opposite directions until I hear the fabric tear and the cold air kiss my skin.

  It’s now when I release that he’s going to do something worse than kill me. He’s going to torture me. This one moment will forever be trapped in the back of my head, tormenting me for the rest of my life. I buck my hips upward and trash around while the screams that have been stuck in my throat finally come out.

  His hand covers my mouth while the other digs in his pocket for something else: a knife. He pulls it out and flicks it open, showing me the blade. It catches the light, and it gleams.

  “Stop. Be quiet. Do you hear me?” he asks, placing the blade to my throat.

  The tears finally build up and fall over the rims of my eyes as I nod my head. He drags the blunt end of the knife down my chest and between my breasts. Quickly, he pulls it back up, cutting through the center of my bra. It pops open, and my breasts bounce free.

  18

  Callan

  Dinner runs longer than I’d like, and the whole time, I can’t stop staring at my phone. Finally, Bennet pays the check, and we get up to leave. We all walk out together, and Levi says goodbye before climbing behind the wheel of his car. I rush toward mine, but Bennet follows along behind me.

  “Cal, what’s up?”

  I shake my head as I slide into the driver's seat. “Val’s not answering her phone.”

  He shrugs. “So, it’s going on ten? She’s probably in bed, or out with that no good best friend of hers.”

  I shake my head. “No, she hasn’t been hanging out with her. And I don’t think she’d go to bed without me. We had plans.”

  “You think she’s in trouble?” he asks, brows pulling together.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “I’ll follow you,” Bennet says, rushing to his car.

  I slam my door closed and put the keys into the ignition. The car roars to life when I twist the key. I hurriedly shift into drive and hit the gas. I weave in and out of traffic, hitting the highway. Silently, I pray that I don’t hit traffic. On the drive, I call
her phone over and over, but every time, it goes to voicemail. I know she isn’t sleeping. No way could she sleep through a constantly ringing phone at her side.

  I drive like a crazy person, going around people on the shoulder of the road at ninety miles per hour. Finally, I see my exit, and I shoot onto it. I blow through stoplights and signs with only a quick pause to make sure it’s clear. Twenty minutes after leaving the restaurant, I’m pulling up to my house.

  Immediately, I realize that her car isn’t in the drive. I throw the car into park and shut it off as I’m stepping out. I’m walking in the front door when Bennet’s headlights shine into the driveway. I run through the downstairs, only finding dark rooms. Finally, I rush upstairs and into our bedroom. The room is dark, but when I flip the light on, hoping to find her asleep in my bed, all I find is a piece of paper. I pick it up and read over it.

  Callan,

  I’m going to spend the day with Kris. We’re going to get lunch and then hit the mall to find her a dress for some party tonight. Be home later.

  Love you,

  Val

  I crumble it up and toss it over my shoulder as I turn for the door, bumping into Bennet.

  “She’s not here?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “She’s with Kris. You got her number?”

  He nods. “I think so.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts searching through his contacts. “Yeah, here it is.” He hits the call button and brings the phone to his ear. He holds it there for what feels like forever before she answers.

  He pulls it away and puts it on speaker.

  “Hellllllo?” she slurs into the phone.

  “Kris, it’s Callan. Is Valerie with you?”

  “No, she took off a while ago. She isn’t home yet?”

  “No, where are you?”

  “I’m at a party in the suburbs,” she answers, sounding drunker than when she answered the phone.

  “Give me the address,” I demand.

  She rattles off the address and Bennet and I rush toward the door.

  A little while later, we’re pulling into a crowded street. “There! That’s her car,” I say, pointing at it. Bennet quickly stops, and I jump out, rushing over to it and looking in the window. The car is empty. Again, I pull out my phone and call her. A light shines from inside the car, and I peek in the window to see her phone sitting in the cupholder in the center.

  “Fuck!” I kick the tire just as Bennet comes rushing up. “I found her phone. She must still be here somewhere.”

  “Come on. Let’s ask around,” Bennet says.

  We walk across the street and onto the sidewalk. My heart is pounding, and my nerves are shot. The street is dark, but I can see a hint of something sparkling off in the distance. I quickly walk up to it. Bending down, I find a set of keys. I grab them and lift them to see them more clearly.

  “They’re hers,” I mumble.

  “How do you know?’ Bennet asks.

  “Because I gave her this keychain last week,” I say, holding up the heart-shaped keychain.

  “Come on. Maybe she realized she lost her keys on the way in and she’s looking for them,” Bennet says, walking forward.

  We walk through the party and search every room. We ask everyone we can if they’ve seen her. I even pull up a picture of her to show them, but they all say no, they don’t know her or haven’t seen her here tonight.

  “Fuck, where could she be?” I ask, getting anxious, pissed, and worried.

  “Maybe she got a ride home to Mom’s,” Bennet says, stepping off to the side and pulling out his phone.

  “Mom? Is Valerie there?” he asks.

  His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “Alright, Mom. Thanks.” He hangs up and slides the phone back into his pocket.

  “Let’s try somewhere else,” I say, refusing to give up.

  We walk back through the house and out the front door when I think to ask the guys hanging out front.

  “Hey, have you seen this woman?” I ask, showing him a picture of her on my phone.

  He nods. “Yeah, I tried talking to her tonight, but she blew me off.”

  “Do you know where she went or even what direction she went in last?”

  He nods toward the street. “I think she was leaving. She walked out of the yard and took a right on the sidewalk.”

  “Was anyone following her, or did someone leave after her going in the same direction?” Bennet asks.

  The guy stops and thinks for a moment. “Now that you mention it, yeah. She left, and it wasn’t a minute later that a guy walked out of the side of the fence and went the same way.”

  “Do you know who it was?” I ask.

  “Nah, I never saw him before.”

  “What did he look like?”

  He takes a drink and leans sits on the porch railing. “I’d say he’s about my height, but a little bigger. He had dark hair, and he was wearing a dirty Cubs hat. I didn’t really get a good look at his face. It’s dark, you know?”

  Bennet looks at me. “Does any of that sound familiar?”

  I nod but think it’s a long shot. “Thanks, man.” I slide my phone back into my pocket and take off running toward the car with Bennet following along behind me.

  “Hey, where are you going? Do you know who that guy is? Damnit, Callan. Tell me something.”

  “I think it’s the guy that attacked her at the club that night.”

  “What? Why would it be him?” he asks, climbing behind the wheel.

  “This guy was pissed that she wouldn’t sleep with him. I guess they’d been hanging out, flirting and kissing for months. She always left him hanging, though.”

  “Okay, that explains why he tried drugging her, but why would he abduct her?”

  “I tracked him down and beat the shit out of him. I took his drugs in hopes of saving another girl. I also tipped off the police. I said he’s attacking women and selling drugs to kids.”

  “So you think he’s taken her as a way to get back at you?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea, but it’s worth a shot.”

  Bennet’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, and his foot gets a little heavier as he steps on the gas, throwing me back in my seat. “What’s the address?”

  I rattle off the address and tell him ahead of time when he needs to turn. Since his apartment is in the rougher part of Chicago, it takes us a while to get there with all the late-night, Saturday traffic.

  We pull up to the apartment building a little while later, and Bennet shuts off the car.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “We storm in there and search the place.”

  “And if she’s not in there?” he asks.

  “If she’s not in there, I’ll beat the shit out of him again and demand he give us some answers.”

  “You know this is a home invasion, right? We could get in big trouble for this.”

  “It’s worth the risk,” I tell him, opening my door and stepping out.

  I lead him up to his apartment, and just as I’m about to kick the door in, Bennet places his arm across my chest, holding me back.

  “What the fuck, man?” I whisper.

  “Just stop and listen for a second.” He places his ear to the door to listen for any sounds.

  I stand there, bouncing from one foot to the other, adrenaline pumping through my body. Every muscle in my body is tensed and ready to go, to break down this fucking door and turn everything upside down until I find her.

  I hear a shriek from inside the apartment, and I push Bennet aside as I ram my shoulder into the door. The wood pops and cracks, but it flies open. It bounces off the wall with a loud bang.

  “Call the police,” I tell Bennet, rushing through the apartment. I walk through the living room and into the hallway. I hear some banging from inside the room in front of me, and I slowly open the door. On the other side I find Decon, back against the furthest wall. He has Valerie against his chest, facing me as he holds a knife to her throat. It feels li
ke time freezes. All I can do is look at her. Her dark hair is matted with blood, and it’s been running onto her forehead where it dried. Her face is red like he’s smacked her. Her lip is busted and bruising, and her eye is black and swollen. She’s completely topless, and he’s stripped her of her pants, leaving her in just a pair of panties. Her entire body is either red or bruised, and she has tiny nicks and cuts that are dripping a small amount of blood. It’s easy to see what his plan was here.

  “Don’t fucking move or I’ll slit her throat,” he spits out.

  Valerie whimpers as tears fall down her cheeks.

  “Let her go,” I demand. “Let her go, and we’ll walk out of here right now. No cops. No trouble. Just let her go.”

  He laughs. “The cops are already here. They’ve been parked outside for weeks now. I didn’t make sense of it until I saw you guys together last night. Then, everything clicked: why you came here, why the cops were suddenly everywhere I went. You fucked up my life. It’s time I fucked up yours.” He pulls the knife away from her throat but jabs it in her side. She lets out a scream that pierces my ears. I rush forward, and he pushes her into my arms as he runs toward the door. But I don’t bother to chase him because I know Bennet’s there and he’s never getting out.

  I lay her down on the bed and grab a sheet to ball up.

  “I’m so sorry, Val, but this is going to hurt.” I quickly kiss her on the head before applying pressure to her side with the balled-up sheet. She lets out a moan and her body tenses.

  “I know you’re in pain but stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Focus on me.” I dig my phone out of my pocket and call 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  “My girlfriend has been stabbed. I need an ambulance,” I tell them, rattling off the address. I don’t listen to what she has to say. I can’t. I can only focus on Valerie. The way her skin is growing paler by the moment, the way her eyes seems to glaze over, the way her breathing becomes shallow and slower.

  “Stay awake, Val. Look at me,” I cry out, placing my fingers on the inside of her wrist to check her pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.