Dethroned (Darker Places Book 3)

by Nicole Cypher

  Laila.

  What the hell would we do with her?

  "Just tell me how I can get ahold of James, and I'll go talk to Dravin. He won't hurt you again."

  Laila's eyes widened and she leaned farther away from me. "I don't know," she said in a panicky voice. "He always calls the office on a different number when he wants to meet. I don't even have an address because he moves around. I swear I—"

  "Laila, relax," I said, trying to put her at ease. "It's enough."

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around my torso. "Thank you."

  I kissed the top of her head and breathed in pomegranate mixed with a scent that was unique to Laila. I could get drunk off of that smell.

  "I need to go talk to Dravin now."

  Laila pulled back and bit her lip. "But you're still going to keep your promise, right?"

  "Of course," I said with a smile. Even though this was huge, and would most likely earn my credibility back, I couldn't deny my hesitancy to leave. She seemed so docile in that moment. So grateful. The things I could've talked her into began floating through my mind one image after the other. If nothing more, I could've been content with just continuing to sit in bed with her head pressed to my chest.

  I still found myself peeling her soft body off me and climbing out of bed, however. The desire for Laila faded more with each step toward the door, replaced with the desire for vengeance.

  Laila

  Anxiety spread to every cell of my body, making me feel as if I buzzed. After Jake had left I couldn't bring myself to move. I just sat there staring at the door for who knows how long. The sandwich I'd been brought hours ago hadn't moved from the nightstand beside me, and the book that sat next to me on the bed hadn't turned a page.

  They would find out that I'd lied. That James Williams was a common name I'd made up to buy my time, and when they did find out…

  My mind kept going to all the possibilities of what they'd do to me, but it had to be done. Surely the goose chase would buy me a little time. Maybe even days, and the biggest consolation was that I'd find out just what kind of man Jake Cryson was. Would he kill me? Of course! The logical part of my brain screamed. Maybe he would and maybe he wouldn't. But at least I'd know.

  The clock on the nightstand showed 9 p.m. as Jake opened the door. My breath caught as I quickly tried to read his expression. He seemed neutral as he walked up to the bed, but as his eyes took in the uneaten sandwich a small frown pulled at his lips.

  "You weren't hungry?" he asked, flicking his gaze to me.

  I managed a breath, but there was no way I'd be able to form words, so I simply shook my head. Jake sighed as he sat down beside me. My knees were pressed to my chest, and as soon as his hands grazed over my thigh I drew tighter into myself. Oh shit. I’m not ready for this.

  "Are you scared?" he asked, the lust dripping from his voice unavoidable.

  I'd feared his rage to the point it made my entire body shake, but never did I imagine I'd fear his lust more. In reality it was my greatest weapon against him. I knew I should use it to my advantage, but whatever damage I did to him felt as if I'd be doing worse to myself. What was the other option? Death?

  The muscles in my legs relaxed by a hair after much effort, and his thumb ran circles over a small patch of skin by my knee cap. Each movement heated me more, and all I could do was try to block it out.

  After he realized I had no intention of answering, he withdrew his hand and rested against the headboard.

  "Are you going to kill me?" I asked, no longer able to hold the question in any longer.

  "Of course not," Jake said in the most unconvincing voice I'd ever heard. It was so lacking in emotion, it increased my fear more than if he'd said nothing at all.

  I twisted my head to face him. He stared off into space as if he were deep in thought. I didn't like what that meant. Not one bit.

  "Jake," I whispered, placing a hand on his chest and leaning into him. My vision became clouded as desperation sounded in my voice. No other words needed to be said. He knew exactly what ran through my mind as he met my gaze and pushed my hair back.

  "I don't know what to do with you."

  My stomach plummeted to the floor, my shoulders slumped, and my face fell. Every part of my body seemed to be sucked down by gravity as his words registered.

  He doesn’t know what to do with me.

  I was fucked. So fucked, and this was when he still thought I'd given him what he wanted. It wasn't anything I didn't know, but it still sucked the breath from my lungs as if it was some big revelation.

  All I could find in myself to do was rest against Jake. My face pressed to his shoulder and hands gripped his shirt. Somehow, he became my solace in that moment, even though he was the danger.

  There was only one possible way out of this, and I started to fear even that was a lost cause. I needed him to want me bad enough not to kill me. The best scenario was that he'd fall for me and let me go, but it wasn't likely. The lust was there but I doubted this man was capable of deeper emotion than that.

  "Did you mean what you said that night at the bar?" I whispered into him.

  Jake urged me back so that I'd look up at him. Curiosity shone in his gaze. "What did I say?"

  I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat, but still managed to choke as I tried to speak. "That I'm one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen."

  My face grew hot as I forced the words that'd played in my mind so many nights. I could only picture the color my skin had turned. Jake's face softened, and his lips parted ever so slightly. I'm not sure what images played in his mind, but bursts of lust began exploding in his eyes.

  I shrank down, terrified of what that lust might mean while at the same time hopeful for it.

  "I can't keep you if that's what you're getting at," he said, as if he was trying to hide the desire that showed so clearly in his eyes.

  "It's not," I whispered, raking a hand through my hair. "It's just something I'd wondered about, and I figured it didn't matter much what you told me anymore."

  Several seconds passed before Jake's heady voice sounded once more. "Yes, Laila. I meant it, and it still holds true."

  I dipped my head and stared at his chest. I couldn't bring myself to become any more hopeful from the comment.

  He cupped my chin and tilted my face to gaze at him. His eyes darted to my lips, and his thumb moved to run across it. "Can I ask you a question I'd wondered about?"

  I nodded as Jake's thumb left my parted lips. My heart beat wildly from the gesture, and I wondered if he'd felt my rapid breaths on his skin.

  "If you hadn't known who I was. If I was just some guy you'd met that night. Would you have gone home with me?"

  "No," I said, averting my gaze.

  His grip on my chin moved me back to look at him forcefully enough that a bit of fear trickled in. "Why not?"

  I'd been dead-on about his arrogance. Could he really not take the fact that maybe not every woman wanted to sleep with him?

  "Well, for starters I'd just been attacked."

  His brow pinched. "That's rather melodramatic."

  "Dramatic? Seriously?" I asked, my eyes widening and anger heating me even more.

  "I'd gotten there before they had a chance to do anything."

  My face softened and anger dissipated as I recalled the events of that night. Jake had saved me. Why? I had absolutely no idea, and it confused the hell out of me. It confused me at the time as well, and had to of been the reason my perception of the man twisted so much I'd had fantasies of him as I lay in bed at night. That seemed like a million years ago now. My whole life seemed like a million years ago.

  "Why did you stop them?"

  It was perhaps the question I wanted the answer to the most. Even more than his job duties and the location of his brother.

  He glanced away as he thought for a minute, then returned his gaze to me just before he spoke. "I don't think you want to hear the answer."

  "I do," I said,
sitting up straighter and preparing myself for whatever depraved shit was about to come from his mouth.

  "Curiosity. I saw you following me and was curious. That's it."

  I nodded. We sat there for several moments, staring off into space and not saying anything.

  "Why did you kiss me back?" he asked.

  I didn't even hesitate. "Curiosity."

  That wasn't really true, but I still didn't know the answer. I remembered it feeling as if I'd been trapped under a spell and had no choice but to lean into Jake's kiss. It made no sense, even to me. Even if I had known, the bitterness that snuck its way in demanded I use his same nonchalant answer, anyway.

  "Fair enough," Jake said with a nod.

  We sat in silence for maybe another ten minutes. I suspected neither of us was satisfied with the other's responses and no longer wanted to play our made up game.

  "Are you feeling cooped up in here?" Jake finally asked.

  My guard rose and I eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

  His lips tilted up in a half grin, and he gestured toward the door. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

  The sweatpants Jake had given me were too long. The hems trailed in the dirt with each step we took along the path. My gaze shifted from the pants to zero in on the hand that gripped mine.

  Jake laughed. "Stop being so skeptical, Laila. It's just a walk."

  I yanked my hand from his, but couldn't move it far because of the cuffs that secured our wrists together. Apparently, he didn't find me all that trustworthy either.

  I took deep breaths and tried to gain some pleasure from the smell of surrounding pine trees and fresh-cut grass. It really was beautiful out here with the impressive, castle-like architecture of the mansion and the starry sky that could barely be appreciated in the city.

  He wouldn't tell me why we were out here, even though I'd asked countless times. It would take a lot more than fresh air and a night sky to lessen the anxiety that coursed through my veins.

  "Does Isabella care that I'm wearing her clothes?" I asked as I once again glanced down at the sweatpants being ruined. I could practically hear Jake rolling his eyes.

  "All of her clothes are bought by me. No, she doesn't care."

  I slowed and turned toward Jake. The handcuffs tugged before he had a chance to match my pace.

  "You're wrong, you know," I said coming to a full stop. "She's got Stockholm Syndrome. Even though she knows what you are, her brain has tricked itself into caring for you. I've seen it before."

  Jake smiled, flashing white teeth. "Is that so?"

  My ears heated and fists clenched as they had so many times as I'd looked into these assholes the past year. "What I'm really trying to say is, you're a bastard, and you've ruined that girl's life. The least you could do is not rub your carelessness in her face."

  His smile widened and he stepped toward me until our bodies pressed together and his mouth was to my ear. I tried to take a step away, but Jake's hand on the small of my back prevented it. "Do you think it'd make Isabella jealous if I told her all the nasty things I wanted to do with you, detective."

  Jake's words brushing against my ear spread warmth throughout my body. My fists unclenched and breathing became labored. I tried to convince myself it was nervousness, but my puckered nipples wouldn't give the lie any credence.

  "Stop," I said as Jake's hand moved to the skin at my waist.

  "You want to know something funny?" he asked, completely ignoring my protest and rubbing his fingers along my hip bone. My mind screamed to push him away, but my muscles refused to budge. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the sensations.

  "She seems to think you're the one with the case of Stockholm's."

  I clenched my eyes harder and shook my head. "No," I said with a shaky breath. I finally regained the ability to move and stepped back. Jake was right there to meet me with each step until we backed into a tree. Tree bark scraped my skin as the bulge in his pants pressed against my belly, and although I wanted to be disgusted it warmed me further.

  "Please stop," I said pushing against his chest which wouldn’t budge.

  "Why, Detective? Isn't this who you think I am?" Jake's fingertips trailed up and down my sides, dragging my cuffed arm along. Each of his labored breaths kissed my ear. "You don't seem to mind so much."

  "I can't," I whispered.

  "Why not?"

  "Because you're everything I've dedicated my hatred toward the past year," I snapped, finally finding some strength in my voice.

  His face pulled back and his hands stilled on my sides. The gentle grew rough as his fingers sunk into me. "You don't fucking know me, Laila. And frankly, you don't know my brother either."

  "I know enough," I said, chin held high, and unwilling to allow him to intimidate me yet again.

  "You think so?" he asked, moving his hand from underneath my T-shirt to circle it around my throat. His mouth moved next to my ear once again, and although his demeanor had grown rough, the bulge from his pants only seemed to enlarge. "Tell me what you know, you little bitch."

  He thrust into me, sending my rear scraping against the tree. My head fell back, and breaths picked up as Jake's hand around my throat squeezed ever so slightly.

  "I know you get off on this," I croaked. "On hurting women. On degrading them."

  "No," he breathed against my ear, while squeezing my throat hard enough that air couldn't enter my lungs for a moment before he released again. "Just you."

  "And Isabella," I said, hating the tiny bit of jealousy that filtered into my voice.

  He sighed before pulling away. My body seemed to lack something with the sudden absence, and I used my free hand to rub my arm from the chill.

  "I really wish you'd stop that," he said before cracking his neck. "Our relationship is platonic. There's no amount of intimacy between Isabella and I. She's fucking one of my guards, for God's sake."

  Maddix. That was why she wanted to use Jake's phone. He must not have known that they had me, and Isabella wanted to warn him.

  "Okay," I said. It still didn't make sense to me, but the conversation made me feel a level of discomfort that I didn't care for. Shame was already beginning to form as I recalled my earlier reactions.

  "Hey," Jake said, taking a step toward me and lifting my chin. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips several times before he lowered himself inches from my mouth. "You still curious?" he asked, grazing his lips against my own.

  "No," I breathed, closing my eyes.

  As Jake's lips pressed to mine, I leaned into him. My hands lifted to his chest, and our tongues mingled, locking us to each other as if we were a perfect fit. The shame would come later, there was no doubt about it. But for right then my life rested in this man's hands, and I'd be damned if it didn't feel like I’d fought for it.

  12

  Jake

  "You're sure you don't know anything?"

  The man tied and on his knees in front of me couldn't keep the shaking from his voice long enough to answer. His wife, bound and screaming through her gag behind him would've been more help.

  "I s-s-swear to God," he finally got out. "P-please, sir."

  I sighed and ran a hand over my face. This was the fourth person today who had no idea who James Williams was. At first I'd been fairly calm in my questioning, but by the time I'd gotten to this sorry bastard the irritation pumping through my veins had demanded violence. The black eye the man before me sported could attest to that.

  I pulled the knife from my pocket, and winced at the high-pitched screams coming from the couple before tossing the blade down in front of them.

  "Wait until I leave to free yourself."

  The man nodded dramatically before mumbling his incoherent gratitude.

  "If you remember anything about James. Anything at all… I assume you know where to find me."

  "Yes, sir," the man said, still nodding.

  I turned and left the couple's house before any more frustration could be taken out on th
em. They genuinely knew nothing of a James Williams. Same with the other three men I'd talked to who'd also worked for Kevin. The man was either a loner who hadn't made an impression on his colleagues or Laila had lied to me.

  My stomach twisted at the possibility of the latter, and I refused to conclude it to be the case. Mostly because I didn't want it to be. The woman had gotten to me, whether I wanted to admit it or not.

  Still, somebody had to fucking pay for this shit, and the higher ups were leaning toward me. As the days went on I started to care less about finding the main informant and more about just anyone to peg this shit on. Anything to end the constant headache.

  As I climbed into the back of the Escalade, I picked up the sheet of paper with the names and addresses of known employees who'd worked for Kevin. Something in my gut told me none of them knew who James Williams was, and I didn't have the energy to waste any more of my time.

  "Where to, boss?" Gordon asked from the front.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the seat, thinking of an answer to his question. I was stumped, and the one person that could easily tell me about James had disappeared over a year ago. Fuck, I wished I could talk to Kevin right then. As much resentment as I held, I missed my little brother. He was the only person I'd trusted enough to confide in. With him gone, I'd been alone in this. If only he hadn't met that damn girl.

  My eyes burst open as an idea overtook me. It was perhaps a long shot but better than questioning random people as I'd been doing.

  "The bank," I finally said to Gordon. From what I knew of Katie's father, violence wasn't the best way to get information from him.

  An hour later, I stood in front of the shoddy trailer house of my brother's father-in-law. The sixty thousand dollar bribe sat heavily in my suit pocket.

  I turned to peer at Gordon through the rolled-down window. "It might be a little bit."

  Gordon nodded and leaned back in his seat.

  With a deep breath, I sauntered up the porch steps and knocked on the cheap paneling. Moments later, a clean shaven man in a plain T-shirt and jeans opened the door. He bore no resemblance to the girl who'd stolen my brother from me, but he appeared an appropriate age to be her father.