by Siera London
“Trace, it’s not looking good.”
Trace extended his hand, appreciating that Lance had gone out on a limb for him. He didn’t have any proof that Tori had been held against her will. Lance had seen her arms and the story of a reputable man keeping a woman a prisoner in her own home seemed far-fetched. He knew how it sounded.
“Thanks for everything.”
“I’ll keep my ear to the wall. If I hear—“
Trace interrupted, not wanting Lance to think he wasn’t grateful for his help. “Appreciate it. I’ll walk you out.”
Just as they reached the door there was a knock. Trace grabbed the knob and pulled it wide. Cutler and Nathan stood with Max waggling his tail.
“What’s going on?”
Nathan met his eyes. “Her dad is settled with Kendall and Symphony.”
Trace lifted his hand in protest. No way did he want Nathan’s pregnant wife and Kendall’s itchy trigger finger responsible for Tori’s dad.
“Don’t worry,” Cutler chimed in. “Adam has Symphony in hand and Shaky will make sure my girl doesn’t put a bullet in anyone before it’s time. Dinah and Mrs. Elliott have fed him twice, already.”
After surviving an abusive marriage, Kendall was never far away from a weapon.
Lance walked out the door like he hadn’t just heard his brother discussing vigilante justice.
Trace was concerned that his friends may be in over their heads. They both had women they loved in their lives and he knew that if they followed him, it would lead to danger.
“You two sure you want to do this?”
Max barked his answer before either man responded.
“She’s yours, right?” Nathan asked.
Trace nodded, “Tori’s mine. And, I will get her back.”
Anger and fear rose inside of him, thinking what Denton must have done to take her. Tori took care of everything she valued. She wouldn’t have left their home unlocked because their slice of paradise meant everything to her. He knew she loved their home and him as sure as the breath entering his body.
“We’ll help you bring your woman home.”
Trace stepped aside, and his two best friends walked in. “I think she left us a trail.”
Cutler narrowed his eyes on Trace. “How?”
Trace pulled the papers Tori had left for him at the station. The brochure had a list of all the private holdings of Currey Industries. “These highlighted properties,” Trace began, “are in Key West.” Damn, his woman was smart. Hang on, Princess. Trace would find her.
✥
Tori awoke on a large bed. She lay sprawled on her back. Someone had covered her in an oversized pullover shirt. Fresh cut flowers, lots of them were close by, though she didn’t see any display vases. Denton knew her too well. The room was well appointed with floor to ceiling silk drapes, antique furniture, and a large baroque mirror facing the bed. Glancing at the watch affixed to her wrist, she realized only a few hours had passed. Denton must have been in a hurry. In the past, he removed all anchors to time, one day ran into the others. As she mentally flipped through all the locations he could have taken her in the elapsed time, one of the images from the brochure she’d left for Trace came to mind. She was in Currey Cove. The foundation owned a private island about one half mile off the Key West Coast. It might as well have been a thousand miles. There was no way to arrive on the island without announcing your arrival. Corporate owned all the vessels that traveled between the waterfront and the cove dock. Denton would never allow Trace to reach her.
“I’m glad that you are awake.” The room light clicked on and Tori covered her eyes. Denton was not alone. A woman with a garment bag waited until he motioned her forward. “Good our guests will arrive within the hour.”
“What guests?”
“Come, my darling. The wedding of the decade has to be witnessed, now get undressed.”
Tori recoiled. “No.”
The woman halted in her steps. Her eyes darted to Tori’s. Tori forced herself not to look away. Would this woman help her? Denton cleared his throat. Instantly, the woman’s gaze dropped to her feet. Inside Tori deflated, but she could not show any weakness in front of Denton. She had no doubt he would exploit any crack in her armor to his advantage.
“Get out of that bed, Tori.”
She didn’t move. He gave her a sinister grin before he reached into his pocket and withdrew another syringe. He didn’t speak. There was no need. The drug spoke volumes. Tori snapped the duvet from over her legs. As if he wasn’t in the room, she removed her outer shirt. The gasp from the seamstress should have alarmed her, but it didn’t. Trace was the only person that had looked upon her shame without flinching. Trace, and the monster that had put those marks on her body, branding her with a lie.
“Happy now,” she smirked, stepping out of her jeans.
“Very. I’m about to be the sole owner of a multi-billion-dollar company.”
He snapped his fingers. “Get her ready,” he demanded of the woman who was little more than a nuisance to him.
“Yes, sir.”
Denton didn’t acknowledge her reply.
“You won’t get away with this,” Tori sneered.
Denton raked his gaze over her disrobed body, lust gleaming in his eyes. “Who’s going to stop me?”
Tori steeled her spine, refusing to back down from her statement. “Trace is going to rip you apart.”
Tori hoped he’d looked through the copies of her trust and the Currey Family holdings. She hadn’t known which move Denton would make, but the fact that she’d be twenty-five in less than two hours, she’d known they both were running out of time. She and Denton were both in the race of their lives. Fortunately for her, Trace wouldn’t stop until her found her. Would he get to her before the clock struck midnight?
Chapter Twelve
Trace stormed into Hobo Alley, furious as a summer storm. For once, silence greeted him. No jukebox, no rowdy tourists. Yet, a loud pounding sound rattled the teeth in his skull. He realized it was his brain cycling through facts and figures in overdrive. With Lance’s help, they’d checked on every property on Tori’s list. She wasn’t at any of them.
“Damn it. Where could he have taken her?”
Rachel came over, three beers in hand. She sat an icy bottle in front of each of them.
Trace softly cursed. “It’s eleven o’clock. He has to be setting up a ceremony somewhere.” He dropped the contents of his hands on the tabletop. What was he missing? Every highlighted location had turned up a big fat zero.
Claudia walked over to their table, a grim expression on her face. She patted Trace on the shoulder. “You’ll find her.”
He was beginning to think Tori would be lost to him if he didn’t reach her by midnight. Unless Denton flew in his own minister, Tori would have to be conscious for the wedding. But afterwards, all bets would be off. Denton would lock her in a tower with a medical warden to subdue her vibrant personality.
Turning her head, Claudia gave the papers a slow once over. Trace wanted to snatch them up, afraid this was all that remained of his time with Tori. She pointed to the picture on the brochure where Tori had highlighted all the names.
“I can’t wait to see this place.”
Trace frowned. “What is it?” Of all the places they’d checked for Tori, none of them had a sculpted palm garden shown in the picture.
“It’s the Gardens at Currey Cove. Peter got hired on as a temp worker. He’s already been over once today. He got me a spot serving drinks to some rich muckety-mucks.”
Trace grabbed Claudia up in his arms and gave her a big, loud kiss on the cheek. Claudia’s spine stiffened, and then her eyes rounded in shock. She stared at him with her mouth ajar.
“What did I say, so I can remember to repeat it everyday of my life?” she asked on a breathy whisper.
Trace laughed and released the woman he considered a friend. She’d welcomed Tori into the fold and she’d just given him the break he needed to find
her. “Claudia, I need a favor.”
“Anything, sugar,” she said, patting the cheek he’d kissed.
“Call your man, Peter and have him give the minister a heads up. If he’s a local bubba, he’ll know what to do and when.”
Turning to his crew, he said, “Let’s go. I know where Tori is,” Trace was already heading for the door.
✥
Tori stood at the altar. Built as a luxury getaway, Currey Cove had a resort style design with a single multiplex building that housed check-in, the restaurant, a spa and salon, a small gift shop, and a grand dining room. Tall candelabras stood like illuminated soldiers along the walls. A medium height gentleman wearing a black suit and a priest collar stood erect under a green vine covered trellis with giant floral swags. Denton had one of his henchmen drag her down the aisle. If any of his guests noticed how upset the bride appeared or the number of men on security detail, no one let on. The President’s secret service detail had more gaps than the guys patrolling the perimeter. Denton stood beside her. When she would have stepped away to put additional space between them, he gripped her arm. His hold strangled her flesh, and she grit her teeth against the pain.
“Give me any trouble and I’ll put your father to sleep permanently when I find him.”
Hope, small by brilliant, burst forth in her heart. It had to be Trace. He had moved her father to protect him from Denton’s reach. A small smile crossed her lips.
“That’s more like it.”
She glared at Denton. “Get over yourself. I’d prefer a drug-induced coma to you.”
“I’m glad you’re giddy about the future I have planned for you.”
A shiver ran down her spine. Tori would not cry. Her father was safe, he was the last of her family...and Trace.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today—“
The lights flickered off, and then on. Tori stiffened, and Denton noticed. With a slight tilt of his head, two of his henchman disappeared out of a side door. He shoved her forward.
“Finish this,” he growled at the minister.
Tori heard a grunt before the room was plunged into darkness. The candelabras cast the room in shadows, but the space was too voluminous to see well in the low light. Murmurs came from the chairs behind her. A nervous Tori went to turn around, but Denton pulled her up to his side. The distinct muzzle of a gun was rammed into her side. Wincing, she jerked away from the pain.
Sudden panic swelled in her chest, but Tori pushed the emotion aside. She thought of her previous escape, reminded herself that this could be her opportunity to secure her freedom, once and for all. She needed to focus. Trace would come for her. She felt that truth with ever beat of her heart, now she needed to ensure she was ready to act when the moment arrived.
The minister’s eyes widened, and then narrowed.
“Pronounce us man and wife,” Denton demanded.
The middle-aged, slight framed gentleman straightened, his eyes hard and condemning. “I will not,“ he said, with a lift of his chin.
Denton smiled and pointed the gun at the clergy. “What about now? Does the ‘good book’ offer to you a solution to having your head blown off?”
Denton grinned, but there was no humor in the diabolical cackle.
The minister dropped his head in defeat. Tori gripped the veil that flowed the length of her body in both hands. As the man of God began to speak, Tori prayed. Was she truly marrying Denton? Grief flooded her, threatening to collapse her under its weight.
“Out of the depth of God’s word,” the official continued. Tori’s fingers dug into the material bunched in her hands until the material ripped, and then she heard a distinct click. Heart thudding in her chest, her eyes shot to the altar and froze. Dear heaven—the minister had a gun trained on Denton. It was a smaller gun, maybe a Ruger LC9 or a Mustang.
“What the...” Denton shouted.
The wedding crowd erupted into chaos.
Now, a voice shouted in Tori’s head. Without a second thought, she gathered her veil and flung the material at the flaming candles. Instantly the gauze caught fire.
Denton jumped back, temporarily freeing her arm.
“Run,” the minister shouted without taking his eyes off Denton.
God’s messenger spoke and the people listened. The cutting sound of heavy wood chairs scraping against hardwood floors filled the room. As people fled the scene, she could see Denton’s guards losing the riot control battle with the scattering crowd.
Recognizing, this might be her one shot at seeing Trace again, Tori flung the blazing material in Denton’s face. Seconds later, a fiery lash formed across his right jaw, his lips, and nose. The fatty stench of burning flesh soured the air and churned Tori’s stomach. Denton roared in pain, the gun slipping from the hands scrambling to protect his now ruined face. How fitting that his scar would be more visible than hers.
“Princess!”
Tori’s heart leaped in her chest. She began to turn in the direction of his voice. Trace had come for her.
“At the altar, Beastie,” she projected her voice above the buzz of the runners and screamers. Energized, she wrestled to get the head dressing free of her ringlets.
Suddenly, a flash of heat singed her skin. Pain sliced through her arm. Denton held her left arm in a punishing grip.
“Even if you run, I’ll still control fifty percent of the company,” he bellowed. “You won’t be free of me.”
Tori didn’t think, she pivoted and struck. She stomped on Denton’s foot with her heel before jabbing him in the side. Stumbling backward, he released her. Running up the aisle, Tori didn’t turn around when she heard Denton screaming after her.
Tori didn’t stop running, not when the dress tangled under her feet, not when a powerful arm grabbed her waist and pulled her up short. She screamed and clawed.
“Let me go. Let me go,” she pummeled the arm at her waist, as her feet flailed.
“Never letting you go, Princess.”
“Trace?” The smoke had climber higher in the room making it more difficult to see.
“Yeah, it’s me. We going to have a serious talk about the word, ‘stay’.”
She turned in his arms, snaking her arm around his neck. Trace stiffened in her arms. Before she could register what was happening, she was lifted off her feet and placed behind him.
Denton attacked Trace with a vengeance, his shoulder bull dozing into Trace’s midsection. With one of his large hands, Trace pushed her out of the way.
“Stay back, Princess.”
Trace’s big body mowed down a few chairs as Denton continued his aggressive tackle. That’s when Tori saw the syringe he held in his hand. She gasped. Denton was trying to kill him.
“Hasn’t anyone told you that a commoner doesn’t get the princess,” Denton laughed, the sound maniacal.
Trace dodged when Denton swung, the syringe leading the way. But Denton’s rage, must have multiplied his strength. They slipped and both went crashing to the floor, with Denton rolling over Trace. Dear heaven, Tori tried to scramble to Trace’s aid. A blur flew through the air. Max bit into Denton’s raised arm. He screamed. In an adept move, Trace twisted Denton’s arm away from him. Grasping his hand, Trace drove the syringe into Denton’s thigh, the pressure he applied to Denton’s curled fingers depressing the plunger.
“No,” Denton screamed before collapsing onto the floor.
“Guess no one told you, toads belong in the swamp.”
Oxygen poured into her lungs, a fountain that fed her soul anew. “You saved me, again.”
Trace turned to her, dark eyes gleaming. “Never losing you again, Tori. Marry me.”
Suddenly, water rained down from the ceiling. The smoke must have triggered the built-in sprinklers. The downpour continued, the candles were extinguished, and darkness blanketed the room.
“What?” Tori couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was the impulsively cute one in the relationship. Marriage was a permanent commitment.
A hand landed on her bottom. “Woman, I want a yes, not another question. Do you love me enough to say, I do?”
Would he still want her after the adrenaline rush wore off? She was a tycoon’s daughter that preferred wrecking balls to Wall Street. She had poor impulse control and a smart mouth.
“Ah,” she hesitated. How often did that happen? The man she loved was offering forever and she was speechless.
Trace shrugged. “Whether you marry me or not, I’m still taking you home. You’re brilliant and beautiful, and perfect. Just thought you’d want to scoop me up before word spread about what a great guy I am.”
His tone said she’d be going home with him even if she thought to object. Which she wouldn’t try with Trace.
Beams of joy filled her heart, and radiated from the depths of her soul. This was where she belonged. For the first time in her life, her square existence fit in the round hole of someone’s life. Trace.
“You’re such a salesman.”
“Is it working?” he deadpanned.
“Yes. Yes, I want my Beastie forever.”
✥
Lots of men and women in green uniforms with gold badges were entering the ballroom. Denton lay comatose on the floor and she was right where she wanted to be...in Trace’s arms.
“Pretty dress, Princess.”
“We are standing here in the dark, Trace?”
“So, we still have a few minutes before midnight.”
“What about Denton?”
“Not trying to marry him.”
She laughed. “He’s still going to own part of the company.”
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it. You marry me, and your problems are solved. You get two for one. Firefighter by day, sex god at night.”
She laughed. “That the only reason you’re asking?”
“You want another spanking?”
She giggled. “Maybe, but...” she hesitated. “Do you want to marry me?”
