Groom: The Deceit Duet Book Two

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Groom: The Deceit Duet Book Two Page 12

by Logan Chance


  “And just what is that?”

  He moves the motor, steering us closer to the bigger sailboat. “Mr. Blackstone doesn’t go into much detail with me. All I know is that he doesn’t want you to marry Mr. Prince.”

  The mention of Gabriel’s name weakens my defenses. He probably thinks I ran away. After the way things ended in his study last night, after I told him Bishop was Tennyson’s father, he most likely believes I’ve left him. He probably thinks I ran away with Ronin, and probably hates me right now.

  Spray from the water mixes with the tear trickling down my cheeks. “And why’s that?” Anger emanates from every single pore on my body.

  He shrugs, as if he’s bored with the subject. “Can’t say. Probably has to do with the money.”

  Pretty sure it doesn’t. I keep my mouth shut, not wasting my breath on this man who doesn’t know his head from his own ass.

  He navigates up to the much larger boat, similar to the one Gabriel had on the island of St. Thomas. But, it isn’t his. Instead of being white and welcoming, it’s menacing and dark. Like a pirate’s ship.

  Duke transfers me from the jon boat onto the sailboat in the middle of the night.

  Duke leads me down into the cabin of the boat, opening a door and ushering me into a small bedroom.

  “Sit tight,” Duke says, “We’ll be there soon.”

  He shuts the door and the lock clicks into place. Asshole. I jiggle the handle, thinking maybe I can shimmy it loose, but it’s no use. Besides where would I even go?

  Hatred spears me. And I rummage around the room, looking for a weapon I can use against Duke the next time he comes in here.

  There’s a small dresser and I go through each drawer, not finding anything useful. I sit down on the edge of the bed, wondering how on earth I’m going to get myself out of this mess.

  After what feels like forever, the door handle twists, and the cowboy enters my room once again.

  I stand, crossing my arms, and trying my hardest not to spit in the man’s face. “What are you doing here?” I ask, still trying to figure a way out.

  “We’re here. And once you get off this boat, everything will be fine.”

  Maybe, for him, he’s delivered his prize. Maybe, he’ll get a bonus check for getting me delivered overnight. He’s quicker than Prime delivery.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He grabs my arm. “You’re lucky my boss wants you alive or…”

  I cut him off, “Or what? Or you’d kill me?” I narrow my eyes on him, full of hate. “I’d like to see you try.” I have no way of defending myself, but I won’t let this bastard think for one second I’ll go down without a fight. I have my teeth, nails, and a very expensive pair of high-heels.

  I slip the heel off, holding it out to ward him off.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. Come on. There’s somebody here who wants to meet you. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

  I slip my shoe back on. “Fuck you.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Hard way it is.” He grabs me and lifts me over his shoulder, carrying me out the room caveman style. “Don’t worry Clementine, it’s not you he’s after.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Gabriel

  * * *

  “FIND HER.” I glare at Stefan, knowing she didn’t leave on her own accord. “This has Bishop written all over it.”

  Stefan nods and leaves my office. It’s late. The wedding would’ve ended hours ago. The wedding that never was. Everyone was so helpful and consoling when they found out there’d be no wedding, but their pity is something I don’t ever want again.

  All I can think about is her safety. I promised her I would protect her.

  Rage rips through me as I think about the turn of events. I head into my grandfather’s office, checking one more time if he left anything behind that may give me an idea as to what’s going on here. The room full of leather and wood still reeks of him. It’s polished every day as if he’s going to walk back in here and let us all in on the joke.

  Files fly to the floor as I rip through them looking for anything that may lead me to the truth.

  Knowing Tennyson is Bishop’s child leads me to believe my grandfather didn’t randomly choose Clementine for my bride.

  No, there’s a reason he did this. I just don’t know what it is.

  I slam my fist against the mahogany of his desk as I come up empty. I move over to his mini-bar, the one he kept stocked with top shelf liquor, removing the hundred year old bottle of King Louis XIII from the shelf, and pour myself a shot. I take a long pull from the glass, feeling the burn that is nowhere near what’s in my chest.

  What the fuck is going on?

  When I return the bottle, I spot a phone number on a scrap of paper lying where the bottle once was. No name, just a number.

  I debate on calling the number as I try to put everything into place. It’s like a giant jigsaw puzzle, where I’m missing a few of the pieces.

  Dean enters my grandfather’s office. “We think they flew out of the state.”

  “This is ridiculous. Was it Bishop?”

  “Yes, we have sources that lead him to Miami.”

  “Get my jet ready.”

  “Sure thing. We think they’re just off the coast of Florida,” Dean says. “We’re contacting the Coast Guard now.”

  I pocket the number, and head up to my bedroom to change out of the tuxedo I’m still wearing. In my room, I call the number. On the second ring, a voice I know all too well answers.

  “Ronin?” I say into the phone after he says ‘hello.’ I can’t believe my own ears. “Is that really you?”

  “Gabriel, how did you get this number?”

  Whose phone is this? I’m still a little shocked, wondering why Ronin is on the other end of the line. “Did you have anything to do with Clementine’s disappearance?” I roar, wondering if he’s working for Bishop.

  “She’s missing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Tennyson with you?” he asks in a hurry.

  “He’s safe.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m about to be at my hangar at the executive airport.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” And then Ronin hangs up.

  Dean, Stefan, and I race across town to the airport, trying our best to get to my jet before Clementine slips into international waters and becomes even harder to find.

  Bishop Blackstone will pay for this. And heaven help him if he laid one finger on her… I can’t even finish that thought.

  I slam my fist against the bar in the back of the Rolls Royce taking me to the airport. How could I let any of this happen?

  A few minutes later, Stefan pulls into the side gate at the executive airport, passing through security and taking me to my own personal hangar where my jet is on the tarmac ready to go.

  Dean and I exit the car in a rush.

  “Holy shit,” Dean says, spotting Ronin standing next to my jet.

  It’s dark in Colorado, the sun’s rays long lost over the mountain tops. Ronin stands in the shadow, and right next to him is my bride-to-be.

  My temper boils. Liar. He does have her.

  He steps toward me, calling out my name. How dare he. How dare he lie to me.

  I’m half-tempted to rush over there and punch him in the throat. The other part of me is relieved to see Clementine standing safely on the tarmac.

  I need answers. And I need them now.

  I step closer, my mind waging its own war against Ronin’s motives.

  There’s nothing he could possibly say to make any of this ok.

  I step closer, my own mind playing tricks on me. Until the moment my sweet Clementine turns around and those golden eyes land right on me.

  Oh, fuck.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Clementine

  * * *

  BE STRONG. Don’t let him see me cry.

  I won’t cry. I won’t do anything but just be a statue. No emotion.

  I don�
��t say a word, my mind already trying to play out every scenario of escape possible. I can do this.

  Breathe, Clementine, breathe.

  “It’s you,” my captor says.

  “It’s me.” I glare back into the dark eyes of Bishop Blackstone.

  Standing on the sandy shore I’ve been transferred to, he looks every bit the rogue he is. From his rumpled jet-black hair to the broad shoulders and lean muscles encased in dark slacks and tight-fitting black tee, he's a classic villain. Handsome, in a bad boy, don’t-get-too-close-or-your-heart-will-get-broken type of way.

  “What do you want, Bishop?”

  He smiles at Duke, showcasing a set of straight white teeth and a dimple. “Like she doesn’t know what I’m after.”

  I rub my arms up and down my shoulders, trying to fight off the chill in the night air. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  Bishop steps closer, cracking a smile. “Why do you have to be so dramatic? No one said anything about killing anyone.”

  I narrow my eyes, not answering him, anger coursing through me.

  He inches even closer. “I want what I’ve always wanted. And I know you know what that is.” He leans in where his nose is mere inches away from mine. “Don’t you?”

  I don’t back down from his menacing stare. “Just let me go, please.”

  “You think you’re so smart, Clementine. Marry into the Prince fortune so I wouldn’t be able to touch you, is that it?” He laughs a quick short laugh. “Gabriel doesn’t scare me.”

  “You don’t know about Gabriel and me?” I ask, wondering if he even knows about how I was forced into this marriage.

  “Know what?”

  If he doesn’t know, I’m not going to be the one to tell him every detail.

  “All I know is how you’ve been lying to me for years, and now I’m here to collect my property.”

  “Over my dead body,” I sneer.

  “Duke, get her inside,” Bishop says, nodding over to a small hut next to the ocean.

  Duke steps closer, and I all but growl at him not to touch me. I follow him into the straw dwelling, because there’s no sense in running.

  When I step into the tiny shack, there’s a small chair and Duke pushes me down on it. “What now?”

  Bishop enters, sucking out all the air with him, like a black hole ready to do the darkest deeds of the devil. “I’m debating how I’m going to return you to Gabriel. In pieces or not at all.”

  I gulp down some air, unable to get enough into my lungs. I’m about to have a full on panic attack, and I try to calm down.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. A loud explosion rocks the silence, and then there’s shouting and chaos all around me. My arms fly over my head, shielding myself from the mayhem.

  “Hands up,” I hear a male voice shout from outside.

  Bishop only laughs, the sound more sinister than his looks. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “And now here I am.” Gabriel steps over the threshold of the hut and I choke on a sob. I can’t believe he’s really here.

  He glances over at me. “Are you all right?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “As I was telling your fiancee,” Bishop says, stepping closer to Gabriel, “I just want what’s mine.”

  And then, I think I must be dreaming. I have to be imagining this. A dream so vivid, it seems real, but isn’t. There’s just no way.

  “Even in death, I couldn’t escape you,” my sister says, stepping around Gabriel.

  I blink. I scrunch my eyes, because surely they must be deceiving me, but when I open them, she’s still there.

  “Let them go,” she says, “and you can have me.”

  “Savannah?” I whisper.

  Eyes the same color as mine look over at me. “Clem,” her voice breaks, before she presses her lips together and turns back to Bishop, saying, “Let her go.”

  Gabriel’s eyes ground me, urging me not to freak out. Tears flood my vision. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I’ve mourned her and never ever forgotten her. And now she’s here. In the living, flesh and blood. I’ve carried this secret about Tennyson all this time, not knowing she was still alive.

  I shake my head. “No, we’re not leaving without you.” Tears stream down my cheeks, my whole system about ready to crash and burn, and Gabriel inches closer to me.

  “And I’m not leaving here without what I came for.” Bishop says, stepping closer to Savannah. “I knew you’d return from the dead, just like a phoenix. And I knew if I took your sister it would flush you out. I always suspected you were alive.” He stares at her like she’s an enigma. “I caught wind of the possibility of it when that crazy old man, Joseph Prince, died.”

  Savannah shakes her head. “Let her go.” Savannah’s voice is stronger now. Like she’s in control.

  My heart bangs in my ears as my stomach clenches. I feel like I could puke, but I don’t dare move. Sweat trickles down my forehead, and I clench my fists tightly together in my lap.

  Behind Gabriel’s shoulder, I see Ronin. He doesn’t take his eyes off Savannah.

  So many people in this little hut, like a clown car. Maybe I’m delirious and none of this is happening. Gabriel steps to the center of the small hut, demanding attention. “Ok, I’ve had enough. I’m not leaving here without what’s mine,” he snarls out.

  It’s like we’ve stumbled onto a turf war, and I don’t even breathe for fear of setting someone off. I heard Dean’s voice, so I’m almost positive Gabriel has a team of men surrounding the hut.

  A chill skates over my skin, entering deep into my bones making me more afraid than anything in my life. More afraid than the moment I received the letter from Joseph Prince saying to marry Gabriel or suffer the consequences.

  Bishop stares at Savannah like she’s his winning lottery ticket.

  “Gabriel you can have your sister, and I’ll take mine,” Bishop states like he’s giving Gabriel exactly what he wants too.

  “No deal. I walk out with both sisters.”

  “And what do I get?” Bishop scoffs.

  “You don’t get a bullet to the fucking head,” Ronin says from the door.

  Bishop laughs. “I’ll decide who gets what around here.”

  “She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t want to be with you,” I finally shout, unable to take this game anymore.

  “Is that so?” Bishop asks.

  I turn to face him, my eyes narrowing on his. “Yes, she’ll never love you...” Before anyone can say anything else, another loud explosion comes from outside, and Dean rushes in.

  I can barely make out what’s going on through all the commotion before Gabriel has me down against the weathered wood floor of the shack. Pain shoots through my knee as it connects with the floor. “Gabriel,” I call out.

  Gunshots fire throughout the hut causing me to squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Let’s go.” He swoops me into his arms, running out the front door of the hut to his chopper. “It’s almost over,” he yells over the screams of the blades whipping through the night air.

  The chaotic night turns even worse when I scan the scene and don’t see my sister. “Savannah, where is she? We can’t leave her,” I shout at Gabriel.

  “It’s ok. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”

  I can’t even think straight, and then I hyperventilate.

  I’m overcome with emotion, tears streaming down my face as Ronin lifts Savannah into the helicopter.

  I rush her, wrapping my arms around my sister. “I missed you,” I say to her.

  “Me more. I never should have involved you,” she says, crying onto my shoulder.

  Ronin hops into the helicopter, moving closer to Savannah. “Go. Go. Go,” he shouts.

  Gabriel holds me, smoothing my hair with his hands. “You’re safe now.” He sits me down and straps me in.

  Gabriel turns to face the pilot. “Let’s get the hell out of here now.” He turns his attention back to Ronin. “Strap her in,” he says, nodding t
oward Savannah.

  Ronin does as he’s told, and the helicopter takes off from the ground.

  And I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

  It’s been the most trying ordeal I’ve ever been through and I’m so happy to be going home.

  My only thought right now is my sister. She’s alive and more than anything, I want to wrap my arms around her and never let go.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Savannah

  * * *

  TALK ABOUT MAKING AN ENTRANCE. This is not how I wanted Clementine to find out. You’re probably wondering where I’ve been. Or what the hell is going on. Basically, I’ve made a mess of my life with no clean up crew in sight. I’ve always been the one needing someone to take care of me. I tried my hardest to be the older sister Clementine could be proud of, but always felt like I let her down. Well, not this time.

  My mistakes started when I was fresh out of high school. My parents were too poor to put me through college, so I had to work. And I landed a sweet job right after I graduated, taking care of Mrs. Ivanna Blackstone, mother to a very wealthy Alastair Blackstone.

  I’d heard rumors about the Blackstones, that all that money they flaunted wasn’t exactly legal. I never knew what Alastair did for a living, but when I pulled up to his 17th-century colonial mansion, I no longer cared how he had made his money, all I cared about was the fact I had a job.

  It was an easy gig—care for the mother, brush her hair, bathe her, and help make her meals. It was too good to be true. I liked Ivanna. She had fire in her frail body. We’d laugh, and she’d tell me stories about all the men who once fought for her hand in marriage. She said I reminded her of herself when she was young.

  During my time working at the estate, I also grew a little too close to her grandson, Bishop Blackstone, heir to a kingdom. I was overwhelmed by his ridiculously good looks and charm.

  We fell in love, or so I thought.

  The days turned into weeks that then turned into months, and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Bishop.

 

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