She sniffs into me, her own fingers clinging on as if she’s never held onto anything.
“You’ll be fine,” I mutter, looking back in the direction we’ve come from as I kiss her forehead and sway her gently. “We’re gonna be fine.”
I glare at the door in the distance, as if it’s the Yakuza, readying myself for the fight coming for us, and pull out my phone.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah.”
“Send everything you’ve got on Yakuza. Every single fucking thing.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate’s been glued to his phone for the last god knows how many hours. He’s not let me out of the apartment either, insisting on collecting the take out himself. Not that he stopped whatever it is he’s doing to have a conversation with me. His laptop takes up the rest of the room on the small dining table off the kitchen.
I wanted to come to Antwerp to escape all the cloak and dagger stuff. To feel safe. And now it feels like I’ve just got closer to it.
“Nate?” I call from the sofa, hoping he can take a break from his ‘work’.
“Do you have a laptop here?” he mumbles, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him as his fingers pound the keys.
“Um, yeah, why?”
“I need it. Bring it to me.” I stare, waiting for some manners, until he looks at my arched brow. “Please, Gabby,” he grates out.
I dutifully fetch the device from the bedroom and hand it over. Nate doesn’t even glace up at me; he just opens it up and sets about running his fingers across both sets of keys.
“I’m going to bed.” I sound like a grumpy child, but right now, that’s how I feel—abandoned and afraid of a veiled threat. I’ve not heard from Andreas, or Mortoni for that matter. Nate might have blown all of this out of proportion. I still hope for that scenario. Yet, in my gut, I know that’s not going to be the case. Not with the name Yakuza being thrown around.
I leave him to whatever it is he’s doing and slink off to bed. Maybe tomorrow will bring some answers to the questions I have racing around in my mind.
It was difficult to sleep. Shadows and figures haunted my mind all night, and I couldn’t get comfortable or find comfort. When I wake, the bed’s empty next to me. The low glow from the screens in the next room is the only light in the place. A steady tapping continues. Silent tears slip past my lashes and onto the pillow, making a damp spot next to my cheek. How am I going to work this out, keep my brother alive and Nate out of danger?
A voice works its way into my mind, one that makes me feel warm, calm. He’s not talking to me, though. I peek at him from behind my lashes and see his phone is surgically attached to his hand again.
“Who?” I mouth to him after opening my eyes and getting his attention.
He doesn’t respond but turns to look at me as he speaks. “No, Quinn. Nothing. I’ll check in again later. Get some sleep. I will.” He ends the call and lets out a sigh as if he’s been awake all night.
“Morning. How’s your brother?”
“Fucking frustrated. He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have all the information.”
“Please, Nate. I’ve told you everything I know. I’ve only ever heard of the Yakuza, and I don’t know why they’d be interested in diamonds.”
“But your brother controls the access to the port in Miami?”
“He has a marina, but it’s a front. He has people on the inside of the port, on Dodge Island. Officials, I guess. He’s not physically at the port but controls what happens there.”
“And the arrangements with Mortoni are new?”
“I’m not sure. The part with the diamonds is. Andreas has never involved me as much as this before.”
“I’m betting it’s your brother and Marco’s connections that got the Yakuza involved. From what Quinn has sent through, they don’t have a strong foothold in Florida yet. The port in Miami is key for running any drugs or trafficking. Exploiting any weakness to it would be a strategic hit, one that Quinn would certainly take.”
I don’t answer and pull the covers back over my head. Listening to all the crime talk turns my stomach. This wasn’t what coming to Antwerp was about. It was an escape—like Bora—and so far, it’s done nothing but cage us.
“You think you’ve been followed at all since this shit started?”
“Maybe? The airport, perhaps.”
“Seriously? Fuck, Gabby. Why didn’t you say earlier?” I don’t answer. I’m done talking about it. “Gabby?” No, I’m hiding beneath these sheets until he stops talking. “I need to know. If you didn’t open my laptop while we were there, then maybe someone was following you all along.”
“Stop, Nate. I’ve had enough.” I throw the covers back over my head, so I can make sure there’s no mistaking my intention. “This wasn’t what I wanted to happen here. We were meant to escape all the fear and plotting, not walk into more.”
“I’m not going to take any chances with you. You have to realise that. We need to figure this shit out.” He finally swings himself from the table to face me. “I damn well need to.”
My teenage pout is actress worthy. I need to find something to distract me or I’ll go insane. I’ve been holed up in here too long, and I’m ready to break out. Instead, I head over to the concealed safe in the wardrobe. The four-digit code and fingerprint recognition keep some of my pieces safe. Christophe looks after the rest. For a fee.
I pick out a necklace that was part of a collection on display in Venice. The items had been travelling on a world exhibition, but the museum in Venice was the weak link. The dozen other items have already been passed on or remade by Christophe.
“Here.” I throw the necklace across the room to Nate whose stunned face proves he can display an emotion other than concern.
“Gabby, cut the crap.”
“I stole this earlier this year. There were two of us on this one in Venice. This is only worth thirty maybe forty thousand euro. But it was a piece of royal history. The baguette cut diamonds are hundreds of years old.”
“You stole this in Venice?”
“Yes. The museum had a dated security set up, and the CCTV was still analogue. It was the perfect opportunity.” Nate huffs out and goes out to the table. The click of his lighter tells me he’s smoking. “Not in my house,” I yell, storming into the living room after him. “Did you even come to bed last night?” My voice is softer than I’d like.
“No. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His eyes burn into me, daring me to push him any further. He cocks his finger at me and beckons me to turn around. He lifts the necklace over my head and sets it in place at the base of my throat. All I have on are my underwear and a loose T-shirt, and the room suddenly heats at his gaze.
As his fingers brush my hair aside, my skin breaks out in goose bumps. As soon as his hands are on me, the tension eases, and I’m immediately calmed. I know he feels the same way. His deep breath is soulful, and I want to ease the worry from his mind.
I turn in his arms and raise my hands over his chest, reaching around his neck and pulling him to my lips. It’s slow and lazy, everything a kiss between lovers should be in the morning.
“Umm. That’s better. Can we leave the computers and the phones today?”
“I’m sure Quinn will phone. You might be able to distract me, though.” He smiles for the first time in god knows how long. It’s full of the dirt I’ve grown to love about him.
“If you’re quick, and naked.”
I giggle a little, enjoying his watch over me. “Shower then bed for you. You need to sleep. What good are you to me if you can’t even stay awake?” I ask, running my hands down to his and leading him back into the bedroom. My fingers make swift work of removing his jeans, shirt and jumper while he helps himself to my body. I keep the necklace on, feeling overly ostentatious with the costume piece around my neck.
“Shower sex it is then.”
My shower isn’t the grand, walk-in feature that Nate has, but w
ith his hands running across my body, I don’t want space. I want him to be as close to me as possible.
The warm spray douses our bodies but does nothing to quench the desire between us. My hands run over Nate’s broad shoulders, marvelling at the dips as his muscles bunch to hold me tight. He presses my back against the tile and hitches my leg around his waist, leaving me balanced on my toes as I try to ensure we stay as connected as possible. His lips grow demanding, urgent, and my mind has no room to dwell on the outside. In here, in this space, it’s just us.
“Don’t tease me, Nate. Please.” I wish I didn’t sound like I’m begging.
“Remember. Do as you’re told.” My head bobs in response. “Turn around. Brace yourself on the wall.”
The way he says the word brace sends a shiver through my limbs, but I do as instructed. My back arches up to meet his touch as he runs his hand down my spine, and I’m desperate for more. Not seeing what he’s doing adds to the need that suddenly consumes me. It’s palpable. Heady. And every nerve in my body is ready to snap as I pant through the seconds of waiting. The water steadily drips from my hair, now hanging in wet swathes past my face.
And then I feel him. He presses his cock to my entrance before grabbing both my hips to the point of pain. My fingers slide against the wet tile in an attempt to gain further purchase but fail.
Nate kicks his hips forward, seating himself deep in my core, and the gasp I let out is automatic.
“Lock your arms out,” he grunts, teeth biting into the back of my neck.
I press up and lock my elbows just in time to hold against his onslaught. No gentle, no slow. He powers into me, back and forth, over and over without giving me time to do anything but take it.
“You’re fucking mine. Do you hear me?” Nate’s voice rasps in the humid air.
It’s pure domination, and usually something I hate, but with Nate it turns my insides to mush and sets a quiver in my stomach. “Mine.”
I inch my feet wider, needing to feel more of him and let him have whatever this is for him. It’s rougher than normal, harsher, and his tone is laced with possession.
He groans as he tightens his grip on me to the point of bruising, fingers digging into my flesh and forcing me closer to the wall. It makes me near delirious, as my cheek begins to squash onto the tiles, arms giving in at his continued pace. My climax builds through my body, every muscle ready to tense and snap with pleasure. It’s too much. My pants become gulps and I moan in pleasure, trying to stop myself from collapsing as my legs begin to shake.
“Hold it back. Fuck, Gabby. Take. Me.” He punctuates his words with force, hitting me in just the right spot to build my orgasm further. “Wait. For. Me.”
“I’m gonna come, pleeasseee.” I hold my breath, focusing on the ache in my shoulders to stave off my climax as I listen to his groans.
“You’re so fucking good.” His voice makes me feel like begging for more from him, making this last for an eternity. “Such a good fucking girl.” And with energy I didn’t know I had, I shove backward and bend down, changing the angle and sparking what I’ve become desperate for.
“Yes, Si, Si…” I scream into the shower as my body pulses around him.
Waking up next to Nate has got to be one of the best feelings in the world. My bed, the one in my home, has never had someone else in. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to bring them here. But I trust him. And I want to fight to keep him here. Not because I’m up to my eyes in some god-awful crime syndicate war that will potentially get my brother killed. I want him to stay for me.
His features are soft in slumber, his stubble growing in a little. Every inch of him is my ideal, and there’s no way I’m going to give him up a second time.
He doesn’t stir as I slip my leg out of the covers. My foot hits the cool wood floor, and I pull the rest of my body silently from the bed. As I pull on a pair of jeans and a top, my mind runs over my mirrored actions back in Bora. Will Nate think I’ve snuck out on him again if I leave, even if it’s for a moment?
The drawer on the side table holds a pad and pen, so I scrawl a note to him to make sure he doesn’t jump to the wrong conclusion while I go to grab some much-needed caffeine.
The weather is on the turn, getting cooler every day, so I bundle myself into my coat and grab my bag. I open the front door and listen for the electronic beep that tells me the alarm’s back in place once the door closes behind me. This building has a state of the art security system, even though it’s not the newest of apartment blocks. I fell in love with the character of the place and introduced some of my own modifications to ensure my diamonds are safe.
I push through the double-door entryway and out onto the street. It’s still early, and only a handful of people are out. From here I can catch sight of the gold statues that adorn the buildings over in the Grote Markt. The coffee place is just a few minutes walk away. They have the best beans straight from the port and I always visit when I’m in the city.
Before I turn down the street, I cross the road and double back around a small backstreet, checking to see if there’s anyone showing too much interest.
I wait, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the men and women walk past. No one is looking for me. There’s nothing to be worried about. That’s my mantra as I collect two coffees and head back in a different direction to the apartment. I’ve always made sure I don’t fall into any patterns. It’s what I look for when I’m researching a job and provides the easiest way to learn habits and rituals that will allow you to sneak in and out with the least amount of risk.
Here in Antwerp is no different, and I take a longer route back. I quicken my pace to ensure the coffee is still hot when I deliver it. My feet pick up the pace at the last corner before I’m back on my street, the apartment in sight. A smile begins to creep over my lips as I think about getting back to Nate.
Before I reach the door, a large black van rounds the far corner and screeches to a halt in front of the building. It jolts forward as it brakes and the side door slides open, allowing for a man dressed all in black to emerge.
The air gets stuck in my lungs as I process what’s happening around me. I turn away, ready to run, but two more men approach from the direction I came, appearing from the shadows. My feet back up a few paces as I look around to evaluate the options. I’m blocked in with no other way out.
Adrenalin floods my body, and I shake with apprehension over my next move. Everything inside me is screaming for me to make it back to Nate.
Hard arms seize my torso and pull me backwards. I throw the coffee behind me in a vain attempt to distract him.
“Bitch!” He grabs harder, pulling me back and making me trip as he drags me towards the van. I know once I’m inside, that’s it. Every muscle I have fights against the man with steel arms. My feet drag as I pull my arms, wriggle and protest.
“Let me go. Nate!” I scream his name as if my life depends on it. And right now, it does. Before I can cry out again, another man storms up to me and presses his gloved hand over my mouth, cutting off my ability to call for help. But my legs are still free, so I kick, putting all my weight on the man wrestling with me from behind. The second man moves back, taking his hand away, and I scream out again. “Nate! Help! Please!”
Every second counts. Every moment I’m not hidden away in that van is a moment that someone might see—a stranger, a tourist. Anyone might witness this and raise the alarm. Or at least give some evidence to Nate when he comes looking.
He’s got to come for me.
Tears break free and track down my face. All of my fight and effort haven’t stopped our trajectory back towards the van. The first assailant lifts me off my feet and chucks me into the van. I land, my arm twisting awkwardly as I fall. I kneel up and try to make it back out the side door, but someone I haven’t seen yet pulls a hood over my head, turning everything black. He has my hands in his and something hard and tight wraps around my wrists, binding them together.
“If you fight,
this will be much harder for you.” A man’s voice, maybe Japanese but certainly Asian in origin. It’s his voice that stops me. A fear I’ve never known before descends over me as I try to think this scenario through. My breathing is shallow, and a dirty, musty smell invades my nose as I try to take some deep breaths. The cloth over my head has blocked my vision and I can’t move my arms.
The sound of my own breath echoes in my head as I listen to where the man might be in relation to my position. Suddenly, there’s a loud bang on the van, the doors all closing, and the engine starts.
“He’ll come for me. You know that,” I stutter out.
“We know.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Too fucking late.
I glare at the van as it rounds a corner in the distance, my hands gripping onto the balcony rail as if I might pull the damn thing off. I could have run when I heard her scream, could have turned and chased the back stairs to her, or gone inside for my gun, but then I wouldn’t have seen the plate, and that’s the only thing I’ve got now. That, the echo of her voice calling for me, and the image of the guys who shut the doors.
They’re not faces that will be forgiven.
“Where are you?” I snap into the phone, still scanning the area from my high vantage point. Shame the ninth floor is giving me nothing but traffic and people who aren’t Gabby.
“An hour out of Antwerp,” Quinn says quietly. “Thought you could do with some sense knocking into that head of—”
“They’ve taken her.” I hear the sharp intake of breath as I head back into the apartment and sit back in front of my laptop. “You happy now? You were right.” Silence lingers on the line. I sneer at the empty sound, brow raised, and pull up every fucking contact I’ve got that could find that van. Fake plate or not.
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 19
