The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  The more I fought, the more his hands wandered, so I stopped. The feel of his hand drifting down ever so slightly to the waistband of my pants frightened me more than anything else. Please, please, please God, don’t let him rape me. I knew of all the things that had happened in my life, that would be the one thing to send me over the edge.

  I hadn’t prayed in years, but I was praying now.

  If I was in a church, maybe God would hear me.

  As if my prayers were answered, I felt the sharp prick of a needle and liquid started to spread through my body like fire.

  “Good job, son. Now, allow me to concentrate. We have to save her because she’s going to be our savior.” The voice was clearer now, not so disguised.

  If only I could remember it.

  If only the ground wasn’t so cold.

  If only the blackness wasn’t sucking me in.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  LOGAN

  “This is a bad idea,” Miles warned.

  I shot him a look.

  “Let me go in there alone.”

  “No fucking way.”

  Elle had been missing for almost eight hours. I’d gone ahead and notified the authorities, but they hadn’t had any luck either. With nothing to go on, there wasn’t much they could do. There was no evidence of a struggle. Nothing to go on. Nowhere for them to look. Miles’s influence got a bulletin out quickly, but even so, there was no sign of her or the Mercedes—anywhere. The fucking rain hadn’t let up and that wasn’t helping. I was desperate, and if confronting O’Shea led me to her, I didn’t really give a fuck what it cost me.

  I’d sell my soul to the fucking devil if it meant saving her.

  Taking the doorknob in my hand, I wanted to rip it from its socket. The adrenaline rush from my pent-up rage was what was keeping me going. I flung the door open, and Miles put his hand out to stop it from slamming against the wall.

  “Hi, can I help you?” A tall blonde with big tits stood from behind her desk.

  I breezed by her. “I need to talk to O’Shea.”

  “Do you have an appointment with Mr. O’Shea?”

  The door to his office was closed and I burst in. “Where is she?”

  The prick was sitting there, all pompous with his reading glasses on like he didn’t have a care in the world. At my appearance, he removed his glasses and his brow creased. “Who?”

  My body was all taut energy and I was ready to snap. “You know who. Now cut the bullshit and tell me what you want.”

  He stood up in his finely tailored suit looking all polished and put together. “It’s Logan McPherson, right?”

  “You know who I am. Now tell me where she is,” I barked.

  He cocked his head to the side as if confused. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  My nerves were shot. I was running on pure adrenaline. And I had no reason to care about anything but where the fuck Elle was. I stepped toward him. Anger flowed through my veins. “Elle, asshole, now where is she?”

  He looked at his watch. “As far as I know, she’d still be at work.”

  “Well, she’s not. She’s missing.”

  “She was at my house visiting my daughter this morning.”

  I stepped even closer, and Miles put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “And shortly after she left, someone attacked her and took her.”

  His skin seemed to pale. He was a good actor, I’d give him that. He grabbed his office phone and hit a series of numbers that I could only assume had to be her cell phone. After about a minute, he pressed the receiver and hit some more numbers. “I’m calling the boutique now.”

  Silence.

  His empty hand clasped the desk.

  A moment later he hung up. He tried another number.

  What maybe her home phone?

  “She’s not going to answer. She’s gone. Now stop fucking around. Where is she?” I said through gritted teeth.

  Something darkened in his eyes as he listened to a ring that wasn’t going to be answered. “I don’t know. Did she go home sick?”

  “She’s not fucking sick, someone took her. Tell me who.” I lunged toward the desk, but Miles grabbed me.

  “Calm down, buddy. Getting physical isn’t going to help.”

  I tried to shove him off me. O’Shea was my ticket. He was the one who was going to take me to her. He had to fucking know where she was.

  O’Shea ran a hand through his hair. “How do you know Elle?”

  I stopped trying to lunge for him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He seemed a little disoriented. “Why do you think she’s missing?”

  That’s when I snapped. I flew across the room and pinned him to the bookcase behind his desk. “Because she is. Because I was talking on the phone with her when someone took her. I heard her crying for help and now I can’t find her.”

  “I don’t know where she is, I swear.” He was gasping for breath and his words were barely a whisper.

  “Fuck,” I cursed and let go of him. I wanted to collapse where I stood because I had no other direction.

  O’Shea straightened his tie. “I care about her. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

  My chest tightened so much it ached. I wanted to pummel him just for saying that, but I had to think about Clementine, and Elle’s relationship with her. I might have already damaged it and I knew I shouldn’t cause any further destruction.

  I turned toward Miles, who was shaking his head at me.

  “We’re wasting time here—let’s go.”

  Miles gave me a nod and stepped toward O’Shea, who was looking like he was in a fog. He ripped a piece of paper off the legal pad on his desk and wrote something on it. “Here’s my number. I used to be in law enforcement and I’m trying to find Elle. If you think of anything that will help or if you hear from her or anyone concerning her, give me a call.”

  With clenched fists, I shook my head and sprinted out of that office.

  Maddening futility enveloped me.

  I felt crazed.

  Wild.

  Insane.

  Out of control.

  My pulse was pounding louder than the rain, drowning out everything but the memory of her scream.

  As soon as I hit the sidewalk, I felt it. My world was tilted. I took off with my fists flying and my feet stomping on the bricks of the sidewalk. Faster and faster I went. My legs cramped and my stomach knotted, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t falter. Until I realized I had no destination.

  “Logan! Where are you going?” Miles called after me, gaining strides on me with my new slower pace.

  The rain was coming harder, making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.

  His hand grabbed my shoulder and jerked me back.

  I stared at him, having forgotten the purpose of that visit to begin with until I saw his face. “Did you plant the bug?”

  Lightning flashed like a warning to get off the street. “Yeah, I did. Now come on, man, let’s go to your old man’s and see if he makes any calls.”

  We were both freezing, shivering even, as we turned around and headed for the car. “Sorry for losing it back there,” I said. “I knew he wouldn’t tell us anything, but I didn’t think he’d be so fucking convincing.”

  “I don’t think he was lying.”

  Thunder rumbled through the sky. “Are you shitting me?”

  He shook his head. “Up until my recent retirement from the force, I’d been grilling suspects for years, and they have a tell about them when they’re lying. O’Shea didn’t have one. In fact, he looked more terrified than he let on. I could see it in his eyes. I honestly don’t think he’s involved, but I’m not so sure he doesn’t know who is.”

  I had to give credit where credit was due; Miles was always one to keep a level head. “Okay, so what if you’re right? What’s next?”

  “We wait and see what he does. If he knows anything he’ll make a move soon.”

  Rain slid down my face and into my mouth. “Yeah, it’s no
t like we have a choice.”

  “What about the sister’s place? Do you want me to go alone?” he asked.

  “No, I want to go. Maybe we can find something that will help us.”

  “Yeah, okay. Let’s make a quick stop there. I can monitor O’Shea with my phone for now.”

  I shook my head to get some of the water off it.

  We got to the Rover and Miles took the keys from me. “I’ll drive.”

  I handed them over without complaint.

  Once we were inside, we sat there, in silence, listening for something, anything, to come from O’Shea’s office.

  As he started driving, he turned to me. “We’re going to find her.”

  “I know,” I said.

  There were no other words I could say, because the thought of never seeing her again was too much to even think about.

  When we first met, I thought we were better off apart.

  But it didn’t take long for me to realize we were so much stronger together.

  Now, alone just wasn’t even an option.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ELLE

  Long and lean. Dauntless. Fearless. He was right in front of me. I lunged for him, twining my arms around his neck, feathering kisses across his face, his cheek, his chin, his nose, his scar, his lips—warm, lush, soft, blissful.

  Logan. Logan. Logan. I said his name a million times.

  My body felt cold, though; even in his arms I couldn’t get warm.

  I held him tighter, but the chill was still inside me.

  I was so cold.

  Awareness started to sink in. He wasn’t with me. I was alone.

  My eyes heavy, I wanted to open them.

  Curled on my side, a sharp pain radiated though me.

  I felt beneath me.

  There was a rock there.

  I tried to move it.

  I tried to move myself.

  I could do neither.

  My throat was scratchy. My mouth was dry. My skin itched. My body ached all over. The chill I had been feeling had settled in my bones.

  I was cold, so cold.

  Muted voices were incomprehensible.

  My head jerked toward them.

  They were too far away for me to see any more than two figures. One dark and looming, the other tall but much thinner, wirier.

  It was then I noticed that I was no longer bound or blindfolded.

  Okay, where was I?

  I glanced around. There were windows everywhere. Plants. Dirt. Sprinklers.

  I was in a greenhouse.

  Shadows approached me. It was dark and hard to see.

  Suddenly, hands gripped me. I wanted to fight them off.

  I wanted to be strong.

  I just couldn’t.

  That smell was back in my nose—the expensive aftershave and foul breath.

  My stomach retched.

  One of the men pulled me upright and sat me in a chair. His face was covered again with that ski mask. “Good, you’re awake. I’m almost ready for you.”

  I opened my mouth and found I could speak. “Ready for what? Why am I here?”

  “You’re here so you won’t make the same mistakes your sister made. You need to understand the value of remaining faithful to the one who loves you.”

  His voice. It was the same voice from the phone calls. “What are you talking about?”

  “Not what, who. Michael,” he snapped. “If you can see the path set forth for you, you won’t have to worry about the wee little one and her future. Walk down that path, and walk toward Michael.”

  “Clementine,” I whispered.

  He ignored me and went on. “You’re also here to learn you must stop meddling. If you can learn the value of these things through God’s word, then you will live through this,”

  My whole body quaked.

  My brain was fuzzy.

  This man had taken my sister.

  “Let me go!” I screamed.

  He laughed.

  Make him feel something, Logan had told me when he took me to the boxing gym just last week and I showed him my moves.

  With all my might, I lifted my leg and kicked my foot right into his groin.

  He yelped and leapt back, grabbing himself.

  Another set of hands were on me. The wiry one’s, the younger one’s. He got right in my face. I knew him. He was the young man who’d delivered flowers to me last night. Without hesitation, he pulled me up by my blouse and slapped me. “You bitch.”

  I thrashed back. Kicking, screaming, hitting.

  It did nothing.

  “Sit her down, I’ll get the rope,” the man in charge barked.

  The younger one manhandled me, groping and touching me in places he didn’t have to before he had me in the chair.

  The man in charge wrapped a blindfold around me and then tied my wrists behind my back. “Here, silence her. We’ll try again in the morning.”

  Moments later there was that horrible Band-Aid smell back in the air and I heard another flick, flick.

  “No,” I pleaded. “I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I promise.”

  My blouse was lifted. Fingers smoothed across my skin. Feeling me. Making me want to scream.

  “Watch yourself, son.” The voice came from a distance.

  The fingers ceased. He was pinching the skin on my stomach. Then I felt the sharp prick of a needle and liquid started to spread through my body like fire again.

  “Not the entire vial, you fucking idiot. We can’t afford to lose her. We need her alive.”

  This time I didn’t whimper.

  I didn’t cry.

  I didn’t try to get away.

  I wanted to.

  But I was too tired.

  I was weak.

  I’m sorry.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  DAY 35

  LOGAN

  Talking was overrated.

  For hours I’d paced like a caged tiger and listened to Miles and my father try to talk me down from the ledge I was dangling from.

  “We’ll find her. She’s going to be okay.”

  Arteries pumping with adrenaline, muscles bunched, ready to spring into classic fight style, I had no direction and that was enough to drive any man crazy, let alone a man whose girl had been taken.

  We’d moved from my pop’s to Miles’s place. Miles was sifting through all the shit on O’Shea’s computer. He’d logged on about an hour ago and Miles had gained access. It was late and I was going fucking nuts. I’d looked at every file and seen enough of O’Shea’s videos that I knew he was arranging these escorts for a reason and not for his sick pleasure.

  As soon as my old man left, I found myself doing something I rarely did—taking refuge in a bottle of scotch.

  I had to do something.

  I was going crazy.

  Time was passing and nothing, still nothing.

  I had no leads.

  My mind was so fucked that I had to escape the madness, even if for a little while. I wasn’t a drinker, so when I say a bottle, I don’t mean it all went in my mouth. Some landed on me, some on the floor, some on the couch.

  But come on, I’d watched sex tape after sex tape of Lizzy, and other men, all the while O’Shea sitting by watching. Whatever the reason, there couldn’t be one strong enough to justify this shit. It was then that I realized just how fucked up O’Shea really was. And Elle had slept in the same house with him. The very thought sent me right over the edge.

  Eight more hours and I could call Blanchet. When I’d called her earlier, she hadn’t turned me down like I thought she would. Hadn’t told me it wasn’t within her duties to find missing persons. All she told me was to pursue normal police channels and if Elle was still missing after twenty-four hours, to call her back. Obviously, the police couldn’t find Elle and I couldn’t find her on my own either. No matter what the consequences of getting the DEA involved, if they were able to find her, I’d deal with the fallout when it came.

&nb
sp; I threw myself down and closed my eyes.

  Where the fuck was she?

  Someone was shaking me. “Come on, Logan, get up.”

  My eyes came unglued in the blind-darkened room. I quickly looked around. I was in Miles’s townhouse. I must have passed out. My pulse was pounding. My hair was damp. My white T-shirt was glued to my sweat-plastered skin. “It’s like a fucking sauna in here.”

  Miles opened the blinds. “You’re sweating all the alcohol out of your system.”

  “Is that what it is?” I squeezed my eyes shut. Pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets as hard as I could, hoping that would help.

  Miles nudged me and shoved a cup of coffee in my face. “O’Shea just arrived back at his office. Go take a shower. Your father stopped by earlier and left you some clothes. They’re on the counter. He said he had a couple of early clients and he’d be back.”

  Even the cup was warm when I took it. “Anything?”

  He shook his head.

  There was a knock on the door, and I practically bolted out of my seat and swiped the bottle from the floor to shove it under the couch. Last thing I needed was for my father to see me like this.

  Miles eyed me as he swung the door open. It was Declan and Peyton, not my old man.

  “You look like shit,” Declan commented.

  I gave him a slow nod and then glanced at the clock. It was just after eight. Two more hours and I would be sitting in Blanchet’s office.

  “Good morning,” Peyton said. Declan had told her most of everything last night.

  “Morning.” I looked toward Declan. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

  He strode to the kitchen. “Charlene opened up and agreed to work the day. I’ll drop Peyton at the boutique and meet your old man.”

  “Want a coffee, Peyton?” Miles asked.

  “No, thank you,” she answered, and then looked at me with eyes like saucers. “Still nothing?”

  I gave her a slight shake of my head. “Nothing. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back.”

  “Anything on the computer?” I heard Declan ask Miles.

  Jogging up the stairs, I felt my stomach turn and took the steps two at a time. The bathroom door was close enough that I was able to get to it to block out his answer. Yeah, there was shit on that computer. Nothing that could help me find Elle, but enough for me to know she needed to stay as far away from that freak as she could.