Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security Book 2)

by Marie James

  Tapping into the security cameras, I find my frightened girl in the middle of the lobby. Her foot taps nervously as she waits her turn in line. Her transaction at the counter doesn’t take long, but after the woman hands her a stack of cash that she unceremoniously shoves into her gym bag, she waits to the side until a man walks up to her. I follow her on the feed through the bank until she enters the vault. Without hesitation, she opens a safe deposit box and upends the entire thing into her bag before I can even register what she had inside. A few minutes later, she’s walking outside and grabbing a cab. My access to the city cameras follows her all the way through town, and she ends up once again at the airport. She did this very same thing last night, but she walked out and left seconds after purchasing a ticket to New York. She never returned to the airport to get on that flight, and I lost precious hours watching video feeds to figure that out.

  She’s more nervous now as she enters the airport for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, but she doesn’t head to the counter, instead making her way to the tram to catch a ride to the rental car place.

  She’s a smart girl, and I realize just how smart when she pulls a driver’s license from her bag. Zooming in, I have to smile when she rents a car under the name Kathryn Janeway. We discussed Star Trek before, but is she purposely leaving crumbs for me by using the Voyager’s captain’s name? I would kiss her right now if she were here.

  The young guy at the counter doesn’t bat an eye at her fake identification the way someone working the TSA stand would’ve if she bought a plane ticket.

  She leaves and by the time she’s driving out of the parking lot in a non-descript Camry, I’ve already hacked the tracking system the company uses for their cars. I want to wait, to see if she’s going to leave me another crumb, but I can’t stay ten steps behind her. At any point Stephen Jones could get lucky and track her down.

  Twenty minutes later, I deduce she’s heading to Cedar Rapids. Five minutes after that, I have a plane ticket purchased.

  “One of us can go with you,” Ignacio says as he leans against the breakroom counter eating a banana.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way—” he begins, and it just rubs me the wrong way.

  “Every conversation that starts that way gets taken the wrong way.”

  “Dude, you’re excellent at your job,” Brooks interjects. He came back to the office after his rendezvous with the bridesmaid before going home. “But you’re not trained for this shit. If there’s trouble, you’ll need help.”

  I resituate the strap on my shoulder. I know I’m going to need equipment when I get to Cedar Rapids, and I don’t have time to stop by my apartment before heading to the airport.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure them.

  “I just think it’s best—”

  “I’ll be fine,” I repeat, feeling like an asshole when Brooks frowns at me.

  My phone begins to ring, and I end the conversation. A sigh escapes my lips when I let Nana’s call go to voicemail. Whitney and I should be at her house right now trying to convince her to let us help with the meal. I shouldn’t be headed to the airport to chase after a terrified woman in danger.

  Thankfully, the cab driver hauls ass due to the huge tip I promised, and I make it to the airport with minutes to spare. They’re already calling my name over the intercom in an attempt to prevent me from missing my flight by the time I make it to the gate. Several passengers give me nasty looks for holding them up, but we still make our takeoff time, and land in Cedar Rapids four minutes early.

  The drive from St. Louis is just over four hours, but I’m counting five before I see my girl again.

  Rapid fire texts hit my phone the second I turn it off airplane mode, but I have things to check before I can dive into those. Finding a quiet place in the airport, I fire up my laptop and go over the information my system back at the office was able to uncover. I have tons and tons of information pouring in over the career-long criminal activity of Stephen Jones, but the search is complete and no one else in the Bureau has been implicated. There are flaws, minute chances that I’ve missed something, but I’m confident enough in my programs, that I can give Flynn the go-ahead to get the ball rolling on tracking down Jones and making it safe for Whitney to come home.

  Chapter 22

  Whitney

  “You’ll eat or you’ll starve.”

  Simon turns his nose up at the food bowl I grabbed from the small grocery store around the corner. Who knew cats were such fickle animals? He didn’t have any problem marching to the damn litter box the second it was set up in the hotel bathroom.

  “You’ll eat when you get hungry.”

  The tip of his orange tail twitches with irritation as he walks past me and jumps on the bed. If he wants to act like an ass in the middle of a damn crisis, then I can do the same.

  But when he meows in my face as I’m snacking on a small bag of beef jerky, I cave just like we both knew I would.

  He can eat from my hand, but he’s too stuck up to eat from a plastic bowl when his normal one is metal.

  Noise in the hallway draws my attention, and the television is on silent for this very purpose, but I don’t have the same sense of dread like I did last night at the motel.

  It’s either my already shot nerves, my exhaustion, or the false sense of security for being in a room with inside entry—take your pick—but I’m just glad my pulse isn’t threatening to pound a migraine into my head with each noise I hear. Maybe it’s because I’m three-hundred-and-fifty miles away from the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Maybe I’ve finally lost my damn mind.

  Who knows, but all I can think about is sleep. Deciding he’s done licking the empty beef jerky package, Simon curls up into a tiny ball and falls asleep. At least he didn’t try to claw my face off when I pulled him out of the backpack a couple of hours ago. I’d say he’s getting used to being transported that way, but more than likely he’s tallying my indiscretions until he’s had enough. He’ll probably sit on my face tonight and smother me in my sleep.

  “You have the right idea,” I tell him, curling my hand down his spine. He purrs, shifting his body so I can rub his stomach, and I give him two pets because I know a third will only bring out the death claws.

  Leaving the television on, I turn the light switch off on the bedside table, deciding that there’s enough light in the room to possibly prevent me from having nightmares, and I let my eyes drift closed. I had a million thoughts running through my head as I drove today, but nothing that was productive, and believe me, a five-hour trip spent right in the middle of a woe-is-me pity party was four hours too long.

  ***

  “This isn’t fair!” I scream, my sounds coming out muffled and distorted.

  Any attempt to move my hands or legs is futile. Light doesn’t even filter through the dark fabric over my head.

  My nightmare makes me jerk awake only to realize it’s my reality.

  The television is no longer on. Either that or the hood covering my face is so thick I can’t see the flash of the screen.

  “Shh,” my attacker urges, but I can’t respond with a mouthful of fabric.

  Just like in my dream, my legs are tied, and my arms are positioned behind my back. It isn’t exactly uncomfortable as much as it is terrifying. The ropes aren’t digging into my flesh and hurting me, but the fear surrounding me is real. How did I sleep through being tied up?

  I guess it’s because my mind transformed the actions into a nightmare, and my exhaustion prevented me from realizing the truth.

  Simon is purring beside me somewhere in the room, but I must be mistaken. Could he be so pissed about a change of food bowl that he’s content to watch some man tie me up and hurt me? If I make it out of this alive, I swear I’m going to get a dog instead, or some animal that’s a little more loyal and a lot less picky.

  Before I can attempt to escape or use mind control to urge Simon to attack, I’m thrown over the guy�
��s shoulder with a grunt. When the hotel room door opens, the tears I refused to cry before going to bed begin to fall. I beg and plead, all words getting jumbled in the cotton stuffed in my mouth.

  I don’t want to die. Twenty-three is way too young for things to end for me, but I know that’s exactly what’s going to happen when I feel the cool night air on my legs as this man carries me out of the hotel. I’ve seen self-defense videos. I know the chances of survival after being moved from one location to another greatly decreases, but my wiggling and begging are ignored.

  It’s not long before I’m tossed in the back of a vehicle, but before I can question why he put me in a back seat rather than in the trunk, the car is roaring to life. I’m sobbing, trying to tell myself to calm down so I can try to keep track of how many turns we make and in what direction, but I’ve never been to Des Moines before tonight. I don’t know a damn thing about where I’m going. Hell, I couldn’t tell you the name of the hotel I was staying at because I was dead tired when I checked in.

  It seems like we’re only driving for a couple of minutes, but it could be hours or vice versa. My head is spinning, and I’m dangerously close to getting sick when the engine dies. I prepare to kick and scream the second he opens the car door, but he must be a genius because he doesn’t come at me from that end. Instead of opening the door at my feet, my attacker opens the door at my head, pulling me out of the car with ease and hoisting me over his shoulder once again.

  A door beeps, and the cool night air is replaced with warmth. As I jostle along, ready to give up and just let whatever is going to happen, happen, I think about Simon. He betrayed me tonight, but that doesn’t mean I hate him. People get fooled by people pretending to be good all the time. It shouldn’t make a difference for animals. More tears are forming when I wonder if he’s going to be okay. Will housekeeping find him? Will they send him to a shelter or take him home? Will he find a new family? Will he miss me? Or will I be forgotten the second someone shows him a metal bowl full of food?

  I’m utterly defeated by the time I hear a second door beep. Not a split second later, I’m tossed onto a bed with a bounce. Hands touch my calves, and I do my best to kick them away. A chuckle fills the room and it makes me pause. I scramble until I’m halfway sitting up, halfway lying with my back against what feels like a headboard, and I realize if I concentrate enough, I can see shadows passing in front of me.

  Is he pacing? Having second thoughts? I spend an ungodly amount of time urging the gag out of my mouth with my tongue, and when it finally falls free, I take a breath of air so large, it makes me bend over wracked with a cough.

  A warm hand touches my back and it freaks me out.

  “Did you think it would be that easy to get away from me?”

  My pulse is pounding because the voice is familiar, but my heart rate won’t slow enough that I can actually determine who it is?

  “J-jones?” I manage, but he doesn’t confirm.

  He’s FBI. Wouldn’t it just be easier to kill me and dump my body in the river or something? I’m hours from home with only fake IDs. It’s not like the cops are going to work that hard to solve a crime, plus I’m sure he’s got years of experience in shit like this, right? He’s a criminal mastermind. He’s hurt people. He’s hurt people’s families, their children. The man has no moral compass to speak of.

  The hand that was touching my back returns, only this time he pulls my restraints from my wrists. Next the hood over my eyes is tugged free, but I’m terrified to open my eyes. Cool air meets my face, making the tears on my cheeks seem like just another punishment.

  “I haven’t seen your face,” I assure him, eyes squeezed tight. “Please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anyone. Take all my money. It’s yours.”

  Instead of agreement or denial, a low chuckle fills the room.

  The laugh is more than familiar. It’s something I’ve heard in my ear more than a hundred times late at night while at home. But it’s impossible. I’ve never been lucky enough.

  I crack one eye open, and every emotion a person could go through in their entire life rushes over me in a split second when I see Wren fucking Nelson standing down at the end of the bed with a wicked grin on his face.

  “Hey, baby.”

  I freak out when something alive touches my hand, squealing like a crazed person before looking down to see Simon falling to his side to be petted. Only then do I look around the familiar room to realize he brought me right back.

  After he abducted me…

  Chapter 23

  Wren

  Her face goes from confusion to anger in the blink of an eye.

  “Hey, baby? That’s what you have to fucking say?” Her voice is low, deadly, but she’s not being loud enough to draw attention to her room. Not that the nitwit at the service counter would do anything if he got a noise complaint. Hell, I walked out of here with her bound and gagged, struggling to get free and the cops haven’t started pounding the door down.

  She grabs a pillow at her back and sails it across the room at me. I catch it easily of course, a wicked grin painting my face.

  “You’re not in Cedar Rapids,” I tell her. I didn’t realize my own mistake until after landing and tracking her car. It took longer to get to her because apparently there’s a shortage of rental cars in Cedar Rapids. This woman should’ve been in my arms hours ago.

  “No shit.”

  “You left.”

  Her brows draw in, and I can see the moment in her eyes that she plans to lie to me. “I’m on vacation.”

  “You told me once honesty was always the best choice,” I remind her.

  Her mouth clamps closed, and even though it’s utterly infuriating to watch her shut down, my good mood at finding her safe wins out.

  “Don’t lie to me, baby.”

  A softness transforms her face, but she doesn’t open her mouth to tell the truth.

  We discussed our limits and knowing where hers are helps me decide to take a chance. Coming in and tying her up was a huge risk, but she asked for something like this. Now that I look at it, it may not be the best timing considering the terrifying events she’s gone through in the last couple of days, but I need her to know that I’ve been worried too.

  “You’ll talk,” I say with enough warning in my voice to make her perk up.

  Not once has she made a move to release the soft cuffs around her ankles. Hell, she hasn’t even pulled her eyes from mine even during her refusal to explain her actions.

  “What’s your safe word?”

  “Zero-day,” she answers on a whisper, and my cock thickens at the sight of cold chills forming on her arms and bare legs.

  “Remember it,” I command.

  She gives me the slightest nod, and it’s all the permission I need.

  With a quick tug of her ankles, I pull her to the edge of the bed. Her breathing is ratcheting up, making the perfect tits in her thin tank top heave up and down. God, I want my mouth on those tits, but this is a punishment of sorts. If she doesn’t want to open her mouth to explain what’s going on, I’ll use her mouth for something else.

  “Arms behind your back.” She moves them quickly, and my cock threatens to embarrass me. “Can you keep them there, or do I need to cuff them back up?”

  “I can,” she answers, her voice soft but dripping with need and desire.

  Fuck, I love how quickly she can go from one emotion to turned on. I bet her pussy is dripping for me. Just the memory of her clenching on my fingers makes me want to groan, but I refuse to give her that sort of power.

  “I’m going to use you,” I warn. “I’m going to fuck your mouth.”

  “Please,” she begs, her eyes focused on the front of my straining jeans.

  With unsteady hands threatening to betray my control, I unbutton my jeans, slowly lowering the zipper. I’m not trying to be a tease. I’m trying to regain power, but the second my cock springs free, pointing at her like her mouth is its home, I realize I’ll never have complete contr
ol around this woman. I want her too much. I need her too much.

  “Oh God,” she pants, her gaze burning into me.

  We’ve had sex more than once playing Orc’s Realm. I’ve slid my fingers inside of her tight pussy, but this is the first time I’ve had her eyes on the real me. Her perusal makes my sac tighten as pre-cum glistens at the tip.

  “Open,” I demand when her tongue snakes out to wet her succulent lips.

  She must be just as dazed as I am because she doesn’t obey. When her hands move from the small of her back to reach for me, I can’t muster the ability to remind her to keep them behind her. When her soft palms caress my thighs, I groan with a need that’s bone deep.

  Tingles follow the trail of her hands, and I’m aware enough in this moment to know nothing has ever felt like this. Absolutely nothing.

  “Take off your shirt,” she demands, her tone making me obey her orders with hasty movements. “Wow.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her head nods in answer, but her eyes never leave the trembling muscles on my body. Leaning in closer causes her cheek to brush down the side of my cock, and I fight the urge to just explode my release on her face and in the lush purple hair hanging loosely around her shoulders.

  “Whitney,” I warn when she nuzzles my cock into the soft skin of her neck.

  Her mouth is a mere inch from my tip when she looks up at me, eyes glazed.

  “Arms behind your back.” The throaty words are a plea more than a command, but I’m granted a reprieve when she complies.

  Soulful eyes blink up at me, softening even further when I cup the side of her face.

  “Open up and show me what that mouth is good for besides lying.”

  The first swipe of her hot tongue over the head of my cock nearly brings me to my knees.

  I’ve always been an immediate gratification kind of guy. It’s hard not to be in this day and age with the world literally at my fingertips, but fuck if the buildup and anticipation of coming together with her like this isn’t the best thing that has ever happened to me in a hundred lifetimes.