by Webb, Rene
“This is how you spend your vacation days, bro? You realize they’re supposed to be relaxing, right?” the nerdy tech guy interjects, reminding us they are still there.
“Fuck off, Miller,” Davies says dryly.
“What was your original extraction plan?” Lion demands from the computer, refocusing the conversation.
“To bring Miss MacKay to the US embassy and coordinate with victims assistance from our organization there,” Davies answers.
“Not going to work. This was a targeted kidnapping, and the perpetrator is still at large and, from our intel, in country,” Lion replies. I feel a shiver run through Lily as she tightens her hold on me.
“Targeted?” Von asks with interest, taking a seat at the table and leaning toward the computer.
“Lily, do you want to go lie down in the bedroom while we figure this out?” I suggest, not wanting to stress her out further. My princess has been through enough already.
“So you can talk about me behind my back? I don’t think so, boss man.” She pulls herself out of my arms and flops down onto the couch, then pulls her legs onto the cushions and makes herself comfortable. “I have a right to know what’s happening.”
Not wanting to argue with her, I let it go and join her on the couch.
“What other information do you have for us?” I direct my question to the group on the computer screen.
“As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted,” Miller says dryly. “All the intel leads us to believe that as well thought-out as the kidnapping was, it was an unsophisticated operation and there were very few people actually involved. James Mayer, Lily’s stepfather, we are certain organized the entire thing himself. He hired and paid Tiffany Woods to befriend and then impersonate her. We are now investigating Mayer’s link to the team who kidnapped Miss MacKay in Paris and convinced the manager of Executive Hospitality Limited to keep her captive.”
Looking at Lily, I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my side. She amazes me with how well she’s holding it all together.
“I was able to follow your payment, Mr. Finch, and discovered, not surprisingly, the establishment is part of a large shell corporation. I have been able to ascertain that corporation is owned by MacKay International,” Miller says.
Lily gasps next to me.
“You’re telling me MacKay International owns a fucking brothel?” I ask.
“Yes, for the past six years, according to government records,” Miller states.
“How did Peter discover she was missing, or where she was for that matter?” I probably should have called Peter earlier, but I’m not yet ready to deal with the lying son of a bitch. I’m rightfully still angry at his deception.
“When I spoke to Mr. Stein earlier, he was a bit cagey about that, to be honest,” Lion answers. “He told me the plan was to meet you in Paris and he would explain everything to you then.”
“Did you learn anything from the bug I found in the bedroom last night?” I ask.
“They were listening the entire time?” Lily asks, outraged. The look on her face is one of embarrassment and fear. I pull her in tighter with one arm and grab her hand with the other.
“No,” Miller tells her. “After speaking to Mr. Gregor and looking at the photographs, it is a cheap, unsophisticated sound-active device. It records sound but doesn’t transmit it. My guess is someone left it in the room with plans to retrieve it later. With how sophisticated Executive Hospitality Limited’s operation is, they wouldn’t use those. My guess is that another patron left it or had one of the women leave it.”
“So they weren’t listening?” Lily asks, playing with my fingers unconsciously.
“No, they would have no reason to and we can destroy it.” I kiss her forehead.
The possibility they could have been listening and or watching was one of the reasons I didn’t tell her who I was. I had not wanted her to act in any way that would have given them a reason to be suspicious. Now, I don’t want anyone ever hearing our first night together. Our conversations and intimacy.
“We know from Henderson that their surveillance has both perimeter cameras and some strategically placed inside the brothel’s hallways,” Davies informs us. “Along with a control room in the basement.”
“I just want to go home.” Lily pouts, turning toward me and wrapping her arm around my middle.
“Princess,” I murmur, pulling her onto my lap.
“For obvious reasons, Miss MacKay, you can’t go back to your life until we’ve dealt with Mr. Mayer. My two main priorities right now are getting you out of the country and keeping you safe. With Davies and Von on site, along with their additional resources, you’re safe until we get you out of the country.”
“The first thing we need to do is get you on a plane and in the air,” Sanchez tells us before glancing at her iPad. “Your current location is twenty-five point five miles to the airport and, with current traffic conditions, should take you roughly thirty-five minutes. We would need another hour to get a plane prepped.”
“Don’t you have your own plane?” Von asks.
“If I did, we’d be in the fucking air by now,” I snap at him.
“Henderson has a plane. After reporting back to us this morning about Miss. MacKay’s location, he was headed to the airport.” Davies reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. “Hopefully he hasn’t taken off yet.”
“He can't know her true identity,” I growl at him, lifting Lily off my lap and placing her on the couch before I stand. “Let him think she’s just the American woman he’s helped rescue.”
“Mr. Finch is correct,” Lion says. “It doesn’t matter if he can be trusted or not. Lily’s anonymity is crucial to keeping her hidden and discovering Mayer’s true objective for having her kidnapped. I highly doubt it was merely for sordid reasons.”
Davies nods his head in acknowledgement as he presses a few buttons and places the phone to his ear. “Henderson, I hope you haven’t left without us.”
7
Lily
“Watch your step, miss,” Von says as I make my way up the metal steps and into the small airplane. He’s the large Norwegian-looking commando who was fighting Trevor. He’s still moving rather stiffly, showing that Trevor was able to get in a few good hits himself.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping into the plush champagne-colored interior of the private plane.
“Sit wherever you want, princess,” Finn says from behind me.
Looking at the couch that lines one wall toward the back of the plane, I move and plop into the corner of it. I twist my body slightly so I’m able to look out the window at the busy airport. The hum of the engine vibrating through the plane increases my sense of anxious anticipation. Have I mentioned how much I hate flying?
I can't bring myself to believe that I am leaving or even begin to imagine what will happen next. It all seems too good to be true. I feel like I’ve been in a daze since the two men arrived at the hotel room thinking they were rescuing me.
Once they left, Trevor packed our belongings while Finn called Peter to tell him we were heading to the airport. After nineteen days of being separated from those I love, even though I was angry with him, hearing Peter’s voice on the other end made my heart swell and my throat tighten.
“Lily?”
“Peter?” I asked thickly, unable to control the tears running down my cheeks.
Finn gently wiped them away as we sat cuddled together on the couch.
“Lily, is that really you?” Peter’s voice was hopeful in my ear.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Thank God,” Peter said through a breath. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Finn’s going to take care of you, and I’ll see you soon.”
We had to leave for the airport, so my conversation with Peter was brief. He gave me no explanations as to how he found me or what he knew, if anything, about my kidnapping.
Finn, Trevor and I were soon taking the elevator down to the second floor. From the
re, we walked down several flights of stairs and exited into an eerily dark and silent parking garage. We weren’t standing there long before a large black SUV drove up and my would-be rescuers bundled us and our luggage inside their already-packed vehicle.
During the loud, traffic-filled drive to the airport, I buried myself into Finn’s side, breathed in his now-familiar, comforting scent, and let myself feel safe in his arms. I listened to the men around me discuss how to get me out of the country, essentially smuggling me out as I had been smuggled in—by bribing the right people.
It was clear that my two would-be rescuers had done this before, and I learned more about their operation. The two men had arrived in the country separately and had only met up with their informant, Mr. Henderson, the day before. Davies is a retired army ranger who now works for Pride Security, while Von is a retired navy seal who is a police officer, and it was clear from their friendly rivalry, they had teamed up before. The pair laughed and told us they had never had a kidnapping victim be kidnapped from the very brothel they were trying to rescue her from.
“Definitely a first,” Davies said from the front passenger’s seat, twisting back to give us a genuine smile. “As was a businessman wielding a baton.”
“I’ve trained using a baton,” Von said from the driver’s seat. “But fuck, Gregor, you’re lethal with that thing.”
“He thought he could take Trevor,” Finn whispered, his lips twitching into a slight grin, clearly enjoying the fact his assistant could hold his own in a fight.
“They are much easier to travel with than firearms, and just as deadly,” Trevor said, looking pleased.
Unfortunately, the plan is to head to Paris where Finn, Trevor, and I will meet up with Peter, who has a fuckton of explaining to do. First, we will stop outside of Moscow to refuel and pick up my new, less-than-legal passport that Pride Security is arranging for me.
Nothing makes sense about my kidnapping, but everyone seems to agree there is more than one reason James targeted me. No one, however, seems to have any real answers as to what that could be. Since talking to the security firm, I still have many of the same questions, like how do I get back to my life? I can tell Finn is as frustrated as I am, although maybe not. He’s not the one who was drugged and kidnapped by a man he cared about. Not to mention betrayed by someone who he thought of as a friend.
I’m now in a small airplane with seven large men. The pilot and copilot are ensconced in the cockpit. Davies and Von are heavily armed and still dangerously attractive commandos. A middle-aged balding man, Charles Henderson, who I had seen several times at the brothel, is the informant who had sent Davies and Von in to rescue me. Despite knowing this, there is still something about him that makes me uneasy. Maybe it’s because the night before he tried to grab my ass on more than one occasion. During the short distance from the car to the plane, he followed me and wouldn’t stop apologizing for his behavior until Finn told him to “shut the fuck up” because he was making me nervous. Then there is Trevor, who I have now seen as an action man, making me feel even safer with him around. Lastly, there is Finn, the man who paid to spend the night with me and whom I very willingly had sex with. I trust Finn to keep me safe, but can you blame a girl who’s been kept prisoner in a brothel for still being uneasy with all these men around?
The only other female is the perfectly coiffed stewardess who looked slightly startled by the influx of passengers. As I entered the plane, I heard Mr. Henderson reassuring her that he was merely giving some business acquaintances a ride and not to worry about the additional passengers.
Everyone seems to be in as much of a hurry to take off as I am. Soon we are all buckled in and the plane is speeding down the runway. I grip Finn’s hand tightly and vigorously chew the piece of gum Trevor handed me. The vibrations of the plane and my own nervous energy are almost unbearable.
“Relax, princess.” Finn returns the squeeze of my hand and lifts it to his lips where he presses a gentle kiss. “We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“How long’s the flight to Paris?” I ask. How long do I have to prepare myself for being back there?
“Twelve and a half hours, but remember we have to make a stop outside of Moscow,” he replies as the plane tilts backward and we ascend into the air. My heart seizes as my stomach jumps to my throat. Even my man’s firm hold on my hand does nothing to calm my nerves.
“How long will we be there?” I ask hopefully.
“We’re just refueling, dropping Von off, and picking you up a passport, so two hours at the most,” Finn tells me.
The plane levels off, and my stomach drops back down where it’s supposed to be.
Next to Finn, Trevor stands slowly, moving stiffly to pull things out of the bag he had shoved under the couch when we sat.
“Thank you,” Finn says, as he takes his laptop and rests it on his knees. “Grab the E-reader for Lily in case she’d like something to read.”
“I would,” I say excitedly as Trevor hands me the device. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice is tight with obvious pain, and he drops back into the couch, letting out a long, slow breath.
“Is he okay?” I whisper to Finn, who glances at the man before turning back toward me.
“He’ll be seeing a doctor when we arrive in Moscow, whether he wants to or not,” he tells me.
The supermodel-like stewardess is making her rounds and soon makes her way toward us. Leaning over Finn, she pulls down the arm of a tray from the back of the couch, which unfolds into a small table in front of both of us.
“Thank you,” Finn says on reflex, placing his computer on top of it.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” she asks politely, still invading his personal space. I wonder if this is the type of woman he usually goes for. Although, I’m pleased to see he doesn’t notice her obvious attempt to gain his attention. So much for professionalism.
“No,” he says curtly. “But my woman would like a cup of tea.”
I melt at his words, gravitating toward him. I lean into him across the arm of the table. Finn wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tighter. I can’t deny that I love the idea of belonging to this man—as long as he equally belongs to me.
“Certainly, sir,” the stewardess says stiffly, moving away.
“What am I going to do with you, princess?” he whispers almost to himself.
“Why didn’t you just call me your girlfriend?” I giggle, pulling back to smile at him.
“I don’t do girlfriends.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
Leaning over him farther, I address Trevor. “Is that true?”
“You’d have to ask Peter.” He chuckles and then grimaces in obvious pain. “He’s known him longer.”
“Have I ever lied to you?” Finn asks, looking completely serious.
“Yes,” I reply instantly. Our entire relationship—if that’s what this is—is based on a lie. A deception. I suddenly wonder if this should concern me more than it does.
“When?” He sounds genuinely confused.
“Last night,” I say to remind him and then emphasize my point more clearly. “When we met.”
“I never lied to you. I only kept information from you in order to protect you,” He states calmly, truly believing what he’s saying.
I argue back, crossing my arms against my chest. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”
“Your tea, Miss.” We are interrupted from arguing further when the stewardess returns with a tray carrying a cup of steaming water, a small bowl of tea bags from which to choose from, and several sugar packets along with small containers of cream.
“Thank you.”
I take the tea cup from the tray and then quickly flip through the bags and choose an English breakfast.
“Would you like anything else?”
“No, thank you.” I rip open the tea bag, drop it into the hot water, and use the
wrapper to dispose of my gum.
She moves down the couch and speaks with Trevor, who I see smiling brightly at the attention.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” I blow on my tea tentatively, relaxing as I watch the hypnotizing steam swirl in the air.
“I thought it was safer for both of us if they thought I was just another client looking for a good time,” he says, turning toward me.
“But you’re covering up what happened to me. He’s never going to pay for what he did to me, is he?” I whisper as the sudden realization comes over me. No police were called or any authorities at all. I may have escaped, but the asshole still wins!
Finn slams his laptop closed, firmly cups the nape of my neck, and looks at me intently. “He’s going to fucking pay, princess. Don’t you worry.” His forehead dips into an angry and annoyingly sexy scowl. “I will make sure of it.” He places a firm kiss on my forehead and whispers fervently, “Trust me.”
“Okay,” I say through a breath. “Do you think I could message my friend Lauren and tell her I’m all right?”
I hate knowing that Lauren, the one person I know hasn’t betrayed me, is worried about me. Although, I have no idea what I would say to her.
“Not yet, princess,” Finn says apologetically.
“But we know she’s not involved—”
“I know, but we don’t want to put you back on anyone’s radar just yet,” he says and leans to kiss my forehead. “Once we get to Paris safely, we can ask Pride Security what they think. Okay?”
“Fine,” I grumble.
“Now drink your tea and buy whatever book you want to read,” he commands, pulling away and going back to his work.
I open his E-reader filled with curiosity of what types of books the man reads. I’m not surprised by the biographies of famous businessmen and politicians, but the action-adventure novels make me smile for some reason. I may not have known him long, but it’s hard to see Finn reading for pleasure, relaxing long enough to actually want to read something he’s not gaining anything out of.
