Watching Her: A Dark Romance (Keep Me Series Book 3)

by Angela Snyder

  Sighing, she bites into her plump lower lip and shakes her head. "It's complicated," she whispers.

  "Sounds like it." As her teeth release her lip, I stare at the marks left behind before wiping my own mouth with a linen napkin and standing. I reach into my blazer on the back of my chair and retrieve my cell phone. "Speaking of my cousin, I need to check in with him. He's probably going apeshit since I haven't responded to him all morning," I say with a grin. Driving my cousin crazy is so damn easy…and fun.

  Katerina tracks my movements as I stride across the room. I click the wake button of my iPhone and check my notifications on the screen.

  And my entire world comes to a screeching standstill.

  At first the messages from Lucien are his typical shit…what are you doing…where are you…why aren't you picking up your cell, you fucking dickhead…send me some fucking girly emojis or something…anything…

  But then…the messages turn into something else entirely. Lucien's not one to kid around, so I know he's fucking serious when he's telling me that he's in trouble. "Oh, fuck!" I hiss, swallowing hard around the lump forming in my throat.

  I unlock the phone and punch a few buttons to dial Lucien's number before bringing the cell to my ear. After a few seconds of continuous ringing before it goes to his voicemail, I lower the phone.

  My heartbeat picks up double pace…triple pace…and it feels like it's going to beat right the fuck out of my chest.

  Lucien sent out an SOS message about an hour ago. The fucking island had been breached, and there's no doubt in my mind that they were coming for him and Adeline.

  Adeline.

  My gut churns in protest, and I feel like I'm gonna vomit the remnants of my breakfast all over the goddamn floor.

  "What? What's wrong?" Katerina asks, her voice trembling.

  My eyes snap over to the girl that has distracted me for the past twelve hours. She's the reason I didn't go back to the island. But I can't really blame her. It was my own damn fault that I didn't keep my phone on me…that I wanted to piss off Lucien because deep down I was feeling a certain way about him and Adeline getting engaged…

  Shit, this is all my fault.

  Shaking my head, I refuse to think the worst until I see it for my own eyes. "Change of plans. We gotta go. Now," I tell her, rushing to repack my things into my suitcase.

  "We?" she squeaks.

  I nod, frantically zipping shut my luggage and going for my medical bag. I need to get us on the plane without any more incidents…no more distractions…no more delays. I already fucked up. I can't fuck up again.

  I hate to sedate Katerina again, but it's the only way. She won't come willingly. She's already proved that point. And I can't risk letting her go right now until I know the truth behind why she did what she did.

  I prepare a new syringe with a tranquilizer that should keep her out for a while and grab an alcohol wipe.

  "Are you a doctor?" she asks with wide eyes as I approach her.

  I swab her restrained arm with the wipe and tell her, "Yes." She visibly relaxes as I inject her with the sedative. "Well…technically," I add as I stand up and stare down at her.

  "Wait…what?" she asks groggily, weakly struggling against her bonds.

  "I'm sorry. It's the only way," I tell her with sincere honesty before her head lolls to the side and the sedative pulls her under.

  CHAPTER 7

  KATYA

  WHEN I AWAKE, all hell is breaking loose, and I suddenly wish for the fog from whatever the hell Jackson injected me with to take its hold on me once more.

  "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck," Jackson says, his words harsh and desperate, while his large hands somehow delicately sew a wound shut in a man's shoulder. The half-naked man is lying on the floor unconscious and bleeding heavily — every drop adding to the ever-growing pool of blood under him.

  His body is all shades of white and blue, and he looks like he's been knocking on death's door for quite a while, if he's not already dead.

  "Keep doing CPR," Jackson instructs a formidable giant of a man, who keeps his huge paws pumping against the dying man's chest.

  My eyes drift closed, and I must lose a few minutes of time. Because when my eyes open again, the hole in the man's shoulder has been sewn shut, and Jackson is now working on the man's torn-up thigh.

  Jackson and the giant whisper in panicked, hushed voices. Once in a while, the giant will glance in my direction. His eyes are blue, piercing…and cold.

  I shiver under his stare just as he says, "She's awake now." I detect an accent…perhaps Russian.

  Jackson doesn't tear his gaze away from the man beneath him, however. He simply states, "She's not going anywhere, but keep an eye on her just in case. I got this."

  Glancing down at the ropes wrapped tightly around my body, I struggle against my binds to no avail. The giant's glare bores into me, and another shiver wracks my body. "Otkuda vy?" I ask in my native tongue. Where are you from?

  "Moscow," he replies, and his accent is definitely more pronounced now.

  "Ty dolzhen mne pomoch'," I plead with him. You have to help me.

  "Not a chance," he sneers in English, not even bothering to use the language we both know he speaks.

  Sighing in defeat, I rest my head back on the floor, planning on waiting out this scenario. It's not like I can go anywhere, being tied up like some kind of animal.

  I glance around at my surroundings. I'm in a large gym with state-of-the-art equipment. I've never been on anything other than a treadmill, so I don't even understand how some of the machines work.

  "Where's Adeline?" I hear Jackson ask the other man, and I can hear the change in the tone of his voice. He sounds…frightened.

  I watch them, listening carefully as the giant explains, "She's gone. They took her after doing…" He pauses, his hand waving over the unconscious man's body, before saying, "This."

  "Adeline is…gone," Jackson says in disbelief, shaking his head. "Fuck. We have to…we have to find her. We have to get her back. We have to do something!" he shouts, frantic.

  "I know. And I tried everything I could possibly think of, but I don't know where she is, Jax. I don't know where they've gone."

  Jax. These two are close since the giant's calling him by a nickname.

  Jackson stands, forgetting his fallen friend for a moment, and rakes his fingers through his dark hair in desperation. He paces the floor, muttering under his breath.

  I realize that this girl is important to him. Perhaps maybe even someone he's in love with. And I'm surprised when the irrational pang of jealousy courses through me. I have no idea why, though, since this man kidnapped me and is holding me against my will…tied up in a strange place.

  Seeming to get his shit together, Jackson tells the giant to take his cousin upstairs to a particular room. The giant lifts the unconscious man easily and cradles him like a baby in his arms as he carries him out of the gym.

  When they're gone, Jackson turns to me and frowns. I do not like the sight of the frown on his face. It's almost as if he's trying to decide what he's going to do with me, and that can't be a good thing.

  I'm completely at his mercy. He could rape me or kill me, and there would be nothing I could do to stop him.

  Struggling against the ropes, I ask him, "What are you going to do with me?"

  He stares at me for a moment and then says, "I'm going to have to lock you up until I can figure shit out."

  I buck against him as he reaches for me. Effortlessly, he hauls me up over his shoulder, and I move and twist against his hold. I'm not going to make this easy on him.

  "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you!" he yells, clearly agitated with my efforts to get away from him.

  A sharp smack sounds. And it's not until I feel the sting on my ass that I realize he just spanked me. I become stock-still and instantly strop struggling. Now I'm just pissed off. "Did you…did you just spank me?" I ask incredulously.

  "Well, you're acting like a total child
right now," he says sardonically.

  "A child?" I exclaim. "You kidnapped me and are holding me hostage. How am I supposed to act?"

  He pauses at the bottom of a staircase and then mutters, "Good point," before trapping my legs with one, muscular arm and carrying me up the stairs.

  My head bounces along the way, and I get a good look at his firm ass in his designer jeans. It would be so much easier to hate and fight him if he wasn't so damn good-looking.

  He has the face of a fallen angel and a body made for sinning — a very dangerous and troubling combination.

  After getting an eyeful of his backside, he stops in front of a door, inputs a code that I can't see, only hear, and then steps inside.

  The room is bathed in darkness, but Jackson quickly flicks on a light, illuminating the space. He carries me over to a large bed and plops me unceremoniously down on it as my eyes immediately start darting around, assessing my situation. The room is sparsely decorated with only the essentials and three doors — one to a bathroom, one to what I'm assuming is a closet, and one to my freedom. The door we just came through currently closes on its own, and I hear a telltale beeping sound indicating that I'm locked in here with some sort of code I'm not privy to.

  There are no windows; only two skylights in the ceiling above. It's still dark outside, but I have no idea what time it is or even what day it is since my captor drugged me not once, but twice.

  I wriggle as he begins to untie my feet. I don't kick out at him even though I should. It felt good when I kneed him in the balls, and I find myself really wanting to do it again the first chance I get.

  How dare he kidnap me when I had everything worked out and a plan in place? Hell, I could be back in Russia by now, back to my family…my little sister.

  I scowl at Jackson as he loosens the ropes around my hands, but doesn't untie them completely.

  "That should be loose enough for you to get out of within a couple of minutes. Just stay here and try not to destroy anything until I come back. I'll bring you something to eat soon."

  He stands and moves towards the door. "Wait!" I call after him, but he doesn't stop or turn back. He inputs a code and leaves, the locking and beeping sound piercing the silent room.

  Jumping off the bed, I race to the door and try the door handle. It doesn't budge. "Shit!" I cry out in frustration. I'm locked in here with some kind of keypad.

  Not willing to admit defeat that easily, I try several codes before giving up entirely. It would be a million to one shot that I could actually guess the code, and I'm not going to sit here wasting any more time.

  Directing my attention to my loosely bound wrists, I manage to break out of the rope in record time. I throw the rope down in frustration with more force than necessary before I move to the other two doors on the other side of the room. The far door is open and is clearly the bathroom given that I can see part of the shower inside.

  Wrenching open the only closed door, I realize it's a walk-in closet. Considering I'm only wearing sweatpants and a shirt, I'm happy to see that I have the option of at least having some clean clothes.

  I rummage through the shelves. The undergarments aren't the right size but may fit. The shoes are two sizes too small, so they won't work at all. Reaching up to the racks above me, my hands grab tag after tag. The clothes aren't in my size either, but I can make do. Everything will be a little tight and short on my tall, thin frame; however, I'm not going to start complaining. When you come from nothing, you take everything that's given to you as a blessing, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others.

  Grabbing a dress off the hanger, a pair of panties and a bra that I think will fit me the best out of all my options, I retreat out of the closet and into the bathroom next to it.

  As I stare at the flowery-smelling shampoos, lotions and soaps, a thought stops me dead in my tracks. A girl was kept in this room before me. That would explain all the clothes in the closet. They obviously aren't for me since everything is in the wrong size.

  I think of the girl they talked about earlier. What was her name again?

  "Adeline," I say out loud, slowly, remembering what Jackson had said.

  Did they keep her prisoner here too? If so, for how long? And where is she now?

  The giant had said that they took her, but who's they? Her friends? Her family?

  Growing more and more confused and frustrated, I growl and slam my clothes down on the countertop by the sink. I'm going to take a shower, regroup and try to figure out how the hell to get out of here.

  I'm making it my mission to escape as soon as possible. I waited too damn long to get out of one prison only to be trapped in another.

  And nothing and no one is going to stand in my way of freedom.

  CHAPTER 8

  JACKSON

  AFTER I GATHERED as many of the staff that I could — the ones that were still alive, that is — we turned a spare room in the east wing of the mansion into a makeshift hospital.

  The room had been thoroughly sterilized under Maria's supervision. Maria, who is our head housekeeper and also our oldest and most trusted employee, had managed to stay alive during the raid by hiding in the kitchen pantry.

  Maria said the men who attacked were solely focused on Lucien and Adeline. Some of the staff was murdered because they intervened or were merely in the way of the siege.

  With the staff's help, we cut Lucien out of his clothes, cleaned him up as best we could and rolled his naked body onto a clean bed. It had been a while since I'd seen Lucien's scars on his back, and the sight of them actually had one of the maids gasping in fright and making the sign of a cross in front of her.

  Yeah, my cousin's been through a lot of shit in his lifetime — a horrific childhood that left him scarred not only physically but mentally, ultimately giving him a unique set of phobias, the kind you only read about in medical journals or hear about on TV.

  He demands control, perfection and cleanliness because he never received any of those things growing up. I totally get that, even though it annoys the shit out of me sometimes. I can't blame him for things beyond his control, however. I'm really learning that now.

  And given how much half of his life has sucked, I want to give him the happy ending he deserves.

  That's why I'm not going to let him die. I'm going to make him better. And then together we will find Adeline, so that they can finally find their happily ever after.

  As much as it pains me to say this, I'm going to push my feelings aside for her and focus on getting the two of them back together. I'll internalize all my bullshit just for the sake of Lucien's happiness.

  And fuck, if anyone deserves some goddamn happiness, it's him.

  Lucien's wounds now have fresh bandages, and I have him hooked up to an IV with pain meds and antibiotics coursing through his veins. I'm so glad I talked him into letting me keep some medical supplies here just in case something happened. I just never thought I would need to use them…especially not on Lucien.

  When I finish making sure my cousin is as comfortable as possible, I glance down at him. He's sleeping as sound as a baby, completely oblivious that he almost died and that Adeline is missing.

  I wish I could be oblivious to this fucking mess we're in right now too.

  Sighing, I tell him, "Rest now, Luc, because when you wake up, we're gonna get shit done. We're going to find Adeline and bring her back to us."

  I wish I could shake him awake and make him help me now, but he needs time to heal. And he's no good to me any worse off than he already is…or dead. The only thing I can do right now is tend to his wounds and needs until he's better and conscious again.

  I've already lost Adeline. I can't lose him too right now.

  My first thought is that the man behind the attack has to be Giovanni Morello, Adeline's ex-fiancé and the man who sold her to Lucien in the first place. It could also be Adeline's father, Salvatore Valenti, an Italian mob boss. Both are from New York City. Both are equally dangerous.


  Or the two of them could be working together…and that scares the hell out of me.

  I just don't understand how they found us. The mansion is secret, secure and in the middle of the Mediterranean on a private island, which cannot be found on any map. It's perfectly masked in the sea surrounded by other tiny inlands and tons of water far away from the mainland. This place is not just somewhere you happen upon. You need directions, coordinates, fucking GPS.

  Something is just not adding up.

  Feeling frustrated, I leave Lucien's temporary hospital room and go to the kitchen to make my captive something to eat. It will take my mind off all the other crap swirling around in my brain. I have so much shit to do — make sure the island's secure, although Wraith has been working on that ever since he stepped foot back on the island, hire more staff and make sure Lucien makes it through the goddamn night.

  Grabbing several items from the fridge, I close the door with my foot and spread everything out on the granite countertop of the large island in the middle of the kitchen. I have no idea what Katerina likes, so I prepare a tray filled with numerous types of small sandwiches along with fruits, veggies and chips.

  Wraith appears out of nowhere as I'm arranging everything on the tray, and I almost spill the whole goddamn lot on the floor. "Fuck!" I curse at him. He always manages to sneak up on me like a freaking ghost or something. Hence, the reason why everyone calls him Wraith I suppose. "I need to tie a bell around your neck like a cat, so I can hear you coming," I joke with him, flashing him a tight grin. I'm only half-joking, though.

  He doesn't chuckle or make any sign of amusement. Instead, he stands stock-still, folding his big, burly arms across his chest and looking like he has the world on his shoulders with a stern look on his face. "What did the girl do?" he asks.

  Ah, he wants to talk about Katerina. I remember the two of them communicating in Russian earlier, and I wonder what was said. I wouldn't put it past her to lie. Hell, she murdered her husband, for Chrissake. Who knows what else she's capable of?