Forced to Yield: Blackmailing the Billionaire Series - Book 2

by Tasha Fawkes

  A few moments after hearing Kelli's keys plop onto the side table in the foyer, I had expected her to knock on my office door. Or to go in to settle Ethan, but she didn't. Perhaps she was waiting for Sarah to do it, but Ethan kept crying. After a solid minute of this, the baby's cries growing louder, I rose from my desk and opened the office door.

  Kelli stood in the living room, staring out at the pool.

  "Kelli, what you doing? Ethan's crying!" I said.

  She turned, eyebrows raised, as if she’d just noticed. I didn't bother waiting for a reply and hurried into the nursery, where I picked up Ethan and spoke softly to him. He was wet, so I quickly changed him while Kelli stood in the doorway. I glanced at her over my shoulder. "Can you warm up a bottle for him?"

  "Sure," she said, then disappeared.

  I wondered where Sarah was. She usually got Ethan up and she never let him cry more than a few seconds. She rarely needed to, as she was more than adept at anticipating his needs, so his fussy moments were actually few and far between.

  With Ethan changed and settled comfortably on my shoulder, I left the nursery, glancing at Sarah's bedroom door. Closed. I frowned and then turned toward the kitchen where Kelli was just pulling a bottle of milk from the refrigerator. She placed it in the bottle warmer and turned it on.

  "You're home earlier than I expected," I commented.

  She glanced at me and nodded. "I figured I'd better be."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because Sarah has left."

  Now, I stared at her, not comprehending. "What do you mean, Sarah just packed and deserted us in the night?"

  To my surprise, Kelli just shrugged.

  "Kelli, that doesn’t sound like Sarah. You don’t know anything else?" I glanced down at Ethan, and then at Kelli, trying to read her. What the hell was she talking about?

  She shrugged again. "All I know is that she called me very early this morning, which is the reason I came home earlier than I planned. She told me that she was growing too attached to Ethan and thought it would be best if she left."

  I frowned. "Growing too close to Ethan? That doesn't make any sense. From what I could tell, she's been close to him for well, forever, since he was born. Isn’t that what a nanny is supposed to do? What the hell?"

  "What do you want me to tell you, Joel? That's what she told me. I wasn't about to give her a third-degree treatment, even though she didn't give advance notice." She sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'll get another nanny."

  Another nanny? I shook my head. "Forget it. I don't want another nanny. We don't need another nanny." I was so shocked, I was angry at first, and then I realized. This was my fault. I knew that Sarah had quit because she felt so guilty about us having slept together. This wasn't her fault. This was all on me. No way could I blame her after I put her in such an impossible position. Because I'd been selfish. Because I'd let my dick outweigh my common sense. What did I think was going to happen? I’d come on to her. This was my fault.

  Ethan started to fuss, uttering soft, mewling cries that grew louder by the second. As if he too were protesting that Sarah had left.

  "We need another nanny, Joel," Kelli exclaimed, glancing at Ethan with a frown. "Can't you get him to stop crying?"

  I stared at her in amazement. "Me?" I extended the baby to her. "You take him. Maybe he wants a woman's arms around him. I'm sure he'll settle down once you start feeding him."

  She reluctantly took Ethan into her arms. The bottle warmed, she attempted to feed him, but he just cried louder. She tried jostling him, rocking him back and forth like Sarah had done endless times before, but it didn't help.

  "I think you're holding him a little bit too snugly," I said. The look she gave me was nothing short of pissed. She shoved the bottle in my direction, then stepped closer, extending her arm with Ethan in it toward me. I couldn't do anything except take him.

  "You're the bloody expert, you take him!”

  I did, making soft, soothing sounds as I took Ethan into my office and softly closed the door. I sat in the chair behind my desk, rocking him as I gently enticed him with some milk, sliding the nipple over his lips. Finally, looking up at me, eyes glazed with tears, he latched onto the nipple then grasped my hand, holding the bottle with the other. I smiled down at him, although inside, there was a hollowness I’d never experienced before.

  Sarah was gone.

  I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, coupled with an even stronger sense of disappointment. Not that I minded being responsible for taking care of my own son. That I could deal with. What I couldn't fathom was Sarah leaving, ostensibly in the middle of the night. That was not like her, not one bit. Had she felt such shame from our sleeping together that she couldn't face me? Couldn't face one more day with Ethan?

  "It just doesn't make sense, does it?" I asked Ethan. With the bottle drained, I gently plucked it from his hands then lifted him to my shoulder, softly rubbing and patting his back. He rewarded my efforts with a soft belch that smelled of baby formula. I chuckled, rocking him until he turned his head, nose nestled into the crook of my neck, his breath tickling the skin there as he fell fast asleep.

  Slowly, I rose from my chair, opened the door, and took Ethan to the nursery. I carefully laid him in the crib, covered him, and then turned to look at the room. Everything I looked at reminded me of Sarah — the rocker, the baby bag. A strange emptiness grew inside me. She’d left no note, no nothing?

  I heard Kelli moving around in the master bedroom, but instead of heading there, I stepped toward Sarah's room. I opened the door and looked inside, not sure what I was expecting. One glance at the now empty closet, the suitcase she’d brought with her also gone, and it became real. She’d left. Without a word.

  She was gone, and it was all my fault. I had lost her for good. Which left me where? To come to terms with Kelli? Had Sarah's presence and her calm demeanor and confidence swayed my opinion of Kelli? Had I been wrong in comparing the two? Had I been too harsh and judgmental regarding Kelli's inability to bond with Ethan?

  I left the nursery and walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. Kelli stood in front of the closet mirror in her bra and underwear, her clothes puddled around her feet.

  "What are you doing?"

  She glanced at me over her shoulder as if it was a stupid question. "I'm getting ready to take a shower. Why?"

  "Kelli, aren't you the least bit concerned? Didn't Sarah say anything else about why she would have left? I know she's terribly fond of Ethan. I just don't understand. What exactly did she tell you?"

  She turned away from me and shrugged as she reached for a hangar with a sundress still wrapped in its plastic dry-cleaning bag. "I already told you. She called me this morning—"

  "What time this morning?" I interrupted.

  Again, she glanced over her shoulder, her frown more apparent. "What difference does it make?"

  "Please, Kelli, just answer my questions."

  "Fine, it was about six o'clock."

  "And what exactly did she say?" I heard the dismay in my voice but was beyond caring what Kelli thought.

  "All she said was that she was growing too fond of Ethan and she felt it would be best if she left."

  "But where did she go?"

  Finally, Kelli turned around, hands on her hips. "I don't know. Does it matter?"

  "But where did you hire her? How did you hire her? She's got to have an address of some sort, doesn't she? Where does she live when she's not a live-in nanny?"

  Kelli frowned and then turned away, tugging at the plastic over the dress, ripping it from the hangar until it joined her discarded clothes on the floor. "It doesn't matter, Joel, don't you understand? I'm not going to beg her to return, and to be quite honest, I don't know where she lives. I hired her through… I found her ad on Craigslist, all right?"

  "You found a nanny for our son on Craigslist?" I asked, my head snapping back, stunned that she would do such a thing.

  She spun toward me, her face flushed wit
h emotion. "Look, Joel, I didn't have many options. I needed someone to take care of Ethan, and I needed someone fast. I interviewed her, found her pleasant and experienced, and that was all there was to it. I didn't ask where she lived, figured it was none of my business. She was a live-in nanny, so it didn't really matter."

  "But Kelli—"

  "Enough!" she snapped. "If she wants to leave, she can leave. We don't need her. We can get another nanny—"

  "That's not the point," I argued. "Ethan is comfortable with her. Imagine how upsetting it will be to acclimate him to another nanny, plus the fact that I think, working together, we can do this by ourselves. We don't need a nanny—"

  She turned and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I stared at the closed door for several moments, sighed, and wondered what the hell I was going to do. This morning I had been prepared to tell Kelli that we were through. Now? I wasn't quite so sure.

  I returned to my office, leaving the door halfway open in case Ethan woke. With Kelli in the shower, knowing her history of being in there for at least an hour, I knew that if Ethan fussed, I would be the one taking care of him. I didn’t mind, but this new wrench in my workday plans left me in a bind. I needed to be at the office, especially now, but I didn't exactly trust leaving Ethan with Kelli either. And a new nanny? That option wasn't any better as far as I was concerned.

  I wanted Sarah. In more ways than one.

  Seventeen

  Sarah

  Even in the pool of blackness in which I swam, I felt the pounding in my skull. My face felt funny… I wanted to scratch my nose, but my brain wouldn’t focus.

  My first clear thought was that I needed to get up and check on Ethan, but I was stiff and achy all over. Nothing like falling asleep in a rocking chair.

  As I struggled to open my eyes, I was surprised that my eyelids were so heavy. My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, my lips cracked and dry. I must've really been tired.

  I registered in my fuzzy brain that my arms seemed like they'd been weighted down by bricks. I tried to move. I couldn't.

  What was wrong with me?

  It took supreme effort to force my eyes open, and I blinked several times, confusion roiling as I felt something brush against my eyelids. I tried again and my stomach lurched when I realized that something was covering my eyes. I could see light through it, as it looked gauzy like a bandage. Not enough to completely obscure my view but enough to make everything look very fuzzy.

  With another extreme effort, I lifted my head from my chest but it rolled toward my shoulder. I couldn't control my movements. My brain wanted to but my body wouldn't cooperate. I felt woozy, as if I was going to throw up. Then I realized why I couldn't move my arms, and why I couldn't even lick my lips to moisten them. Panic surged through me and my heartbeat accelerated to an alarming level, my breath cutting through my lungs.

  I was sitting in a chair, some kind of cloth that didn’t taste good stuffed in my mouth. I couldn't shift my position. My skin went hot and cold at the same time, my eyes wide now.

  Although I couldn't see clearly, what I could see prompted an urge to vomit. I wasn't in the nursery. Or my room.

  A moan escaped my throat. My heart plummeted and then raced again, pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. I blinked several times, trying to clear my blurred vision, my head pounding with every blink, my mouth so dry I couldn't utter more than a moan.

  Don't panic, don't panic… The words reverberated through my brain. Think!

  Another few pounding seconds and I realized the truth of the matter. I was bound to a chair, my arms pulled tightly around the back of it. And I couldn’t see Ethan.

  Oh my god, Ethan.

  Where was Ethan? Was he all right?

  I began to struggle violently, ignoring the pain shooting up my arms and into the back of my neck as I tried to pull my hands from behind the chair. With my fingers already numb, I desperately tried to feel what bound me to the chair. Metal. Handcuffs? My heart exploded once again and terror swept through me.

  A choked scream was muffled with the cloth, and I ended up a gagging sound. I couldn't breathe… couldn't breathe!

  Calm down. Slow down. Breathe.

  I forced back another gag. I instinctively tried to relax the muscles in my throat so that I didn't vomit, afraid of aspirating, choking, dying and leaving my son alone. My heart racing, my mind spinning, I gradually became more aware of my surroundings. I forced myself to push back questions of why and concentrated on where.

  Where was I?

  A darkened room that smelled of oil, grease, and rubber came fuzzily into focus. An abandoned garage?

  There was darkness everywhere but off to my right, where a door stood maybe a foot ajar, casting a glow into the room. I thought I could make out an oil-stained cement floor, but nothing else. On the other side of that doorway, a voice was low and muffled.

  Don't panic. Stay calm… for Ethan. You have to survive and get back to Ethan!

  I focused on the voice. It sounded distant over my own frantic heartbeat, and I turned my head toward the door to hear better. The person talking was in the next room. It was a male voice, echoing a bit, as if in an empty space. Who was he? What did he want with me? How had I gotten here? The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the rocking chair in the nursery.

  Thanks to the increasingly brighter glimmer of light, the shadows in the room shifted to a gray-black, enabling me to make out some shapes. From what I could see, which wasn't much, I thought I sat in the middle of a room, bound to a wood-backed chair. The room was small, maybe ten feet by ten feet, but I couldn't know for sure. As I concentrated, I thought I could make out shelving — wood or metal, I couldn't tell. The shelves looked cluttered with boxes and odd shapes that I didn't recognize, but considering the smell, seemed to be old auto parts or pieces of engines.

  I looked up, ignoring the pain that shot through my head and neck as I did so, and my heart stopped. Was that a large hook with a chain attached to a pulley above me? Again, panic surged through my veins. I glanced wildly toward the partly open door, trying to make out what was beyond, but couldn't. The voice faded and grew quiet.

  I blinked back tears of panic, thinking only of Ethan. Was he all right? How had I gotten here? Had I been—

  Footsteps.

  I choked back a cry, my eyes wide now, focused on the doorway. The footsteps grew closer, and with each step, my terror increased. I froze, dreading the inevitable widening of that door.

  It pushed open, casting a larger shaft of light into the room, but still not enough to see who it was.

  A phone rang, the tone dull and muted, some type of jazz. The shadow in the doorway stopped, muttered a low curse, and retreated.

  The ringing grew louder and I imagined whoever was on the other side of the door had pulled the phone from a pocket. The footsteps retreated still more as the man answered the call.

  I didn't recognize the voice. "I thought I told you not call this number."

  That wasn't good.

  I took the reprieve and struggled frantically to free myself, ignoring the pain of metal scraping against my wrist bones, not even wondering what I would do if I did manage to get free. This room didn't offer any escape. Was my kidnapper— That's when I knew, I had been kidnapped! Why, I had no idea.

  The voice continued, speaking in hushed tones, bits of the one-sided conversation filtering in. "You guys were… Keep him occupied, at least for a few more hours… Disappearance suspicious."

  Keep who occupied? This had to be a mistake. Who would want to kidnap me, and why?

  Overriding everything was my concern for Ethan. I tried to think back, remember. Time stood still as my fuzzy thoughts slowly clarified. I remembered being in the nursery and then falling asleep. I hadn’t seen or heard any indication that would make me believe Ethan had been taken as well. Could this have been something to do with Joel's business? The takeover? But why would they take me? I had no
thing to do with that.

  "I told you, Eric," the voice hissed as the man’s footsteps paced. "You're supposed to keep… You got that?"

  The name startled me. Eric? There were a million Erics in the world, but could this possibly be Joel's partner and business associate? Impossible. Why would Eric kidnap me?

  "I told you! I'll decide when and where. You two keep them busy, and if she has to watch over the kid for a couple of days, then she can just suck it up. I'll contact you… I don't care if she's getting panicky… her fucking problem. She better play it… Loses it, I can guarantee, I'm not going down for this, not by myself. You got it?"

  There was the soft chirp of the disconnected phone call and once again footsteps headed toward the door. My heart leaped into my throat and I held my breath. When the figure stepped to the door and pushed it open, I felt a momentary surge of relief, followed by a sinking feeling that brought tears to my eyes.

  In the doorway stood a man, a flash of silver metal on his chest. A police officer? Security guard? I stared, frustrated that I couldn't see who it was but also relieved that I couldn't. Could being blindfolded be good? It prevented me from identifying this man, gave me a small surge of hope that I'd be let go. That whoever this was would realize he'd made a mistake, that I wasn't worth kidnapping.

  I stifled a gasp at movement and the click of the light switch being flipped on. Light flashed on in the room, cast by a bare light bulb dangling from a cord in the ceiling. The man didn't move, his features still blurry between the gauze covering my eyes and the bright light that made me want to close my eyes against it.

  I couldn't swallow, couldn't speak, and didn't dare move as I stared at the figure. I felt his eyes on me and a shiver raced through me, causing me to jerk.

  The shadow leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest. He sighed.

  I didn't like the sound, made my skin crawl with a sickening fear. What was he thinking?

  "You look better awake than you did unconscious."