Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2)

by Jessica Collins

  Jeffrey is here. He knows where you are.

  Tears began to fall. I don’t want to leave.

  The sound of footsteps registered, and then a figure knelt in front of her. Looking up, Alistair’s face shone between her tears. Reaching forward, he pulled her to him, holding tightly as he sat beside her.

  “C’mon guys, let’s give them a few minutes.” Gene stood and shooed the small crowd out of the space. “We’ll be right outside, boss. Call us if you need us.”

  Alistair nodded and kissed the top of Jayla’s head.

  “You okay, beautiful?” he asked, catching her face in his hands.

  She shook her head.

  Anxiety, fear, unease, raced through her. And then suddenly, anger.

  “You knew he was here.”

  Alistair’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t speak.

  “I heard Gene and Pete. They said I should have been in Austin. You wanted me to go, because you knew he was here. How did you know he was here? How did you even know who he was?”

  “Jayla…” Alistair’s voice held a smidge of warning, only adding fuel to the fire. She stood, her voice higher.

  “No. Tell me. I deserve to know the truth, don’t you think?”

  He took a breath, not moving from the couch. “After you told me about him, I asked Peter for a favor. I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I asked him to look for Jeffrey.”

  “How? All you had was his name.”

  “And age, location. Occupation. Peter’s that good. It took him and Tink about a week. We’ve been watching him ever since.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “We knew he’d purchased a ticket into the city. He arrived this week and he was scheduled to depart tomorrow morning. That’s why I asked you to go to Austin. I figured if he was here, you shouldn’t be. Just in case.”

  “You … you spied on him? He’s a fucking CIA agent! He … he probably knew he was being spied on.”

  Pure rage bubbled up out of her chest.

  Alistair stood. “There’s no way—”

  “Bullshit.” Tears began to streak down her face again, her emotions out of control. “I’ve been on the run for five years. Five fucking years, and all of a sudden now he finds me. He randomly comes to my city? To my job? And your thought is it’s just a coincidence?”

  “Jayla, calm down,” Alistair raised his hands in defense, but she wasn’t having it.

  “Calm down? Calm down? You … you … asshole. How dare you interfere in my life? You promised you wouldn’t control me. You lied. And now, look what you’ve done. I have to leave, now. Again. All because you just had to go where you didn’t belong!”

  “Jayla, please—” Alistair’s voice rose slightly, but she cut him off again.

  “I trusted you!”

  His features changed, first hurt, then a mask of rage. She’d seen him like this once before, at Belle’s, right before she’d had a flashback in front of him.

  “You want to talk about trust? How about the fact that you lied to me, Jayla.”

  “Of course I lied! I’ve been lying to everyone to protect myself. And you knew that. I told you everything, and you just used it against me. To control me!”

  “No, I ‘knew’ you had ‘an abusive ex’. You never told me you were married to him — no, not were married, still are married. Or did you forget that fact, Jasmine?”

  She froze, reeling back at the sound of her name — her true name — coming from Alistair’s lips. She couldn’t tell if she loved it, or hated it.

  He stepped forward, his voice lowering. “I wanted to protect you. You said you never wanted to run again. I was trying to make that happen. Instead, you kept lying to me. Using … using your name as your safe word.”

  She scoffed, unable to process the distress in his tone. “Yeah, and now look where I am. I — oh, God, I have to leave, again. I need to go. I need to go, right now.”

  She scrambled to her feet, not sure which way to go first. She didn’t want to leave. She loved it here. Loved her job. Loved her friends. Loved … Alistair.

  He reached forward, grasping onto her and pulling her into him.

  “I’m sorry, Jayla. I’m so sorry.”

  The hold on her, his words, suddenly her body lost its fight. Deep, racking sobs shook her body.

  He held her tightly, holding her tightly until she calmed, her body limp and relaxed against him. He ran his fingers through her hair, then lifted her chin to kiss her softly.

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said, looking in her eyes. “Not ever again.”

  His echoed promise destroyed any remaining anger she felt. He should have told her what he was doing. And it was wrong to hide it from her, but his goal had never been to hurt her. And in the back of her mind she always knew Jeffrey would find her. This was not Alistair’s fault.

  She reached around, holding him as her anchor in staying in this world. “I’m sorry, too, Alistair. He … Jeffrey was here. I-I thought…” Her voice trailed, not wanting to speak.

  “I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

  Her back straightened at his words. “What?”

  “Me, you, and Rajah. We’ll start over. You pick the town, I’ll keep watch. I’ll be more careful this time, I promise.”

  The idea sent a rush through her she’d never known before. Suddenly, everything snapped into place. New York was where she belonged. She had a man who would do anything to protect her. Even if it was sometimes misguided.

  What’s more — she finally had herself back. She wouldn’t let Jeffrey take it away again. This time, she chose herself.

  “No. He doesn’t get to win. We’re staying.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “So, here, look,” Peter explained, pointing at lines of green coding against a black screen. “This line indicates the security from our end. The code isn’t broken, which means—”

  Jayla’s brows furrowed, trying to follow along for the past half hour. They had returned home, Peter and Tink following shortly after, wanting to prove to Jayla there was no way they had been caught tracking Jeffrey.

  Sitting between the two of them on Alistair’s couch, she couldn’t hide her confusion. She nodded and smiled politely but tuned him out. He’d been talking about tying multiple applications together and showing her different sections of wording, all making no sense to her. Peter was in “hacker mode” and the words he was using were just not computing with her operating system.

  Tink took note. “Pete, stop,” she called, a smile to her voice as she placed her hand on Jayla’s thigh. “Jayla. The trace has a self-preservation mode. Once we gained access to his systems, we bypassed all of the safeguards on Jeffrey’s computers and embedded a … virus, if you will. We could see everything he was doing. What he searched, what he bought, what credit card. We could even watch him from his own camera. In order for him to have found us, and then try and trace us back, he would have had to get into his own system. The way the … virus was set up, if he entered his own code, it would immediately disengage and erase all data. It would look blank. Jeffrey might know someone had gotten in, but not who. Or from where.”

  Smiling, Jayla could understand this much better. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, there’s more. I added my own special brand of, uh, fairy dust, if you will. If he searched anything relating to you — your name, your birthdate, your father … even ‘Manhattan’ — it would trigger an immediate alert to our phones and computer with screen shots. That’s how we realized he was coming to the city. We knew the second he went to the airline’s webpage.”

  She chuckled. “He sat first class, seat four. Hell, I even know he ordered two screwdrivers and the chicken and rice meal … from the plane.”

  An image of Jeffrey sitting smugly on plush leather seats infuriated her. “Him and those fucking screwdrivers,” she muttered, remembering how no matter what percentage of vodka to orange
juice, he never thought they tasted right from her. Accusing her of “messing them up” on purpose. Now she knew it was just another excuse to hurt her.

  Alistair returned from the kitchen, four beers in hand. Peter stood immediately, allowing him to have his seat. Alistair wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in tightly against him.

  His deep voice sounded … tired. “What time does he board?” he asked, looking toward Peter.

  Pete lifted his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times. “Flight takes off in an hour. He already checked in.” Pete sat down on the floor, turning the computer screen toward him. Keystrokes sounded furiously, until a triumphant smile broke across his face. Turning the screen back, Jayla’s mouth opened in shock.

  In front of her was an image from the airport security cameras, focused on Jeffrey sitting with his ankle on his knee, reading a magazine. About twenty other people were around him, some listening to music, others with computers of their own.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered. “Is this real?”

  “Real view. Real time,” Peter acknowledged, cracking his knuckles. “Real skills, babe.”

  Jayla rolled her eyes, but a small smile creeped across her face. She’d watch for the rest of the night if that meant insuring Jeffrey was on the flight. Luckily, that wait didn’t take long. After about only ten minutes, Jeffrey, along with a number of other passengers, stood and made their way to the gate.

  Looking away for the briefest of moments, Jayla took a deep breath. Tink was on the floor, playing with Rajah, and Alistair and Peter were in a deep conversation, talking about installing cameras to his apartment — an added security measure for her. Turning her attention back to the camera, she grit her teeth as she watched him dip his knees, bending to pick up his suitcase, his suit jacket slung over his arm.

  No one else was watching the screen.

  No one else saw him hand his ticket to the attendant and walk past her toward the jetway.

  No one else saw that right before boarding he turned his head, looking directly at the camera … the corners of his mouth lifting into a cruel smirk.

  Alistair rubbed his eyes with his palms, spreading the pressure to his temples before running his hands through his hair.

  It had been a month since the run-in at the club. A month of constant monitoring, of never wanting to let Jayla out of his sight for more than a few seconds.

  A full month of falling more in love with the woman sleeping peacefully in his bed.

  Jayla had been … incredible. For the first week since “the incident”, her flashbacks were frequent, near daily, along with violent nightmares. He woke her from her terror, her screams breaking his heart, yet each time after she reached for him, looking for his kiss to soothe her, to help her back to sleep. She once told him she swore Jeffrey knew they were watching the security cameras at the airport, but when he asked her about it again, she shook her head, reporting it was “probably just my anxiety” with a sad smile. He hated that smile.

  Her soft snore broke his reverie. He turned his torso, looking back at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

  “My beautiful Princess,” he whispered, wanting nothing else than to sink deeply into her wet warmth, to make love to her until every horrid memory was washed clean from her mind.

  “You sure you want to go?” he asked her, speaking about work a few days after Jeffrey boarded.

  “Of course,” she responded, her brows raised in defiance. “I refuse to let him win.”

  Alistair bent forward, placing a kiss against her lips.

  Glancing up, he looked toward the lens hidden in the molding. The security system they installed the morning Jeffrey left was now an issue. The first week it seemed to work fine, but then it started to act wonky. The feeds would blink — so quickly it was almost difficult to notice — yet with Alistair watching every second he was away from her, it never escaped his attention. That had never happened on any of their systems before.

  His cell phone had begun to act shifty as well. When on the line, especially with Jayla, he’d notice a low, constant hum. The first time it happened, he blamed it on the reception in the city. Now — the hair on the back of his neck rose. His gut confirmed something was wrong.

  His hands balled into fists at what he knew to be the likely conclusion — Jeffrey.

  Tonight, as every night this week, Alistair was unable to quiet the nagging thoughts. He’d protect her — he always would. Yet, he intrinsically knew Jeffrey would be back.

  Everyone was on high alert. Tink was working furiously to find a way for Jeffrey to be unable to trace Jayla, now that he had additional information on her. The girls at the club kept watch, not just of patrons, but of anything sketchy happening in the building. The guys took extra precautions with all the women, some of them even staying overnight at times with each other. Alistair was sure that wasn’t all completely innocent, yet he appreciated their taking everyone’s safety seriously. Especially Jayla’s. When he wasn’t there, one of his men were.

  Peter had checked all their systems every few days, assuring Alistair nothing was amiss. But, when Pete texted earlier this evening, Alistair’s heart nearly stopped. Across his screen was one word, the one word they’d used since they were kids to indicate an emergency.

  Fly.

  Which only meant one thing.

  Jeffrey.

  He’d wait for Peter’s confirmation before making any rash decisions, yet his thoughts raced just the same.

  Alistair’s phone vibrated on the table next to him. He moved slowly so as not to wake her. Picking up, he read the message from Pete. Speak of the devil.

  Peter: I’m here. Open up.

  Pulling on pajama pants, he muffled his footsteps on the way to the front door, adrenaline already rushing through his system at what news Pete might have.

  His hand shook as he opened the door. Peter’s body fell forward. Alistair caught him, just as a voice rang through the hallway.

  “So long, lover-boy.”

  A weight descended, the sickening sound of the crash against his skull the last sound he heard.

  Jayla’s eyes creaked open. Fighting to swallow against the soreness in her throat and queasiness in her stomach, she turned her head. Oh, no. Please not the flu.

  Her eyes focused on a glass of water in front of her. She struggled to lift her arm to reach it. When unable, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before pushing herself from the bed, sitting straight.

  Rubbing her temples against the throbbing pain, she opened her eyes and realized she didn’t recognize where she was. She tried to turn her head. The movement only made her more nauseous.

  Her mind struggled to interpret the flashes of her memory. She was in Alistair’s room, but he wasn’t with her. She’d gotten up. Gone to look for him. There was someone in the apartment. In the hallway. She tried to scream when he grabbed her. She could feel his arms around her chest, see the cloth in his hand, smell the sickly-sweet chemical smell and then nothing.

  Her breaths quickened and she forced herself to focus on the room around her.

  She sat on a long, plush, white couch facing a wall with a large, ornately decorated fireplace. Flames danced over two hefty logs. She could feel the heat on her bare legs.

  She was dressed in a red lingerie baby doll dress. Lace adorned her breasts, a satin bow tied underneath them. Silken material flowed from the bow to mid-thigh, with slits up the sides. The fuck?

  As she stood, she lost balance, falling backwards onto the couch.

  “Careful, princess.”

  Jayla blood turned to ice. She turned to face the voice.

  “Took you long enough to wake up, Jasmine. Rough night?”

  Jeffrey was sitting at the edge of a large bed. The black and red drapery that hung from each of the massive four posts made it look like a tomb.

  She shuddered at the sickening smirk creeping across his face. Standing, she wobbled backwards a bit, still not yet su
re on her feet.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “Moi?” He brought a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Why, Jasmine, don’t you remember? You’d gotten yourself lost, somehow. It took a few years, but I finally found you.” He stood, stalking toward her.

  “Where am I? What the fuck is this?” Her voice wavered as she took another step backwards, looking for an escape route.

  He tsked. “Such naughty language. Where’d you learn that … Jayla?”

  The only windows in the room were high above the floor, too high to offer any help. Glancing to her right, she spotted a large archway, which she hoped housed the way out.

  With Jeffrey on the opposite side of the bed from the doorway, she took her chance and ran. Her feet pounded against the marble floor, the tiles growing cooler the further she got from the fire. She ran through the archway and came face to face with a short hallway. Pillars separated three doors, one directly in front of her and one on each side of the passage.

  Like a twisted Price is Right game. She darted toward the center door, shaking hands grasping the handle as she turned.

  Nothing. It was locked. She heard him laugh darkly behind her and spun around. He was in the archway, his eyes filled with hatred and lust.

  That’s not a good sign. As she spun to her left, he began to stalk toward her. Fuck. Locked.

  She shoved into it with her shoulder, just for good measure, but it didn’t budge. He was quickly closing the distance, and she turned to the last door.

  Bolting for the handle, she gave a sigh of relief as she felt the door push forward. She slammed the door shut behind her, frowning when she realized it didn’t lock. She turned, her back against the door — and instantly regretted her decision to enter.

  A dim red light illuminated the room’s contents.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Jeffrey forced the door open behind her, sending her sprawling to the floor.

  “See anything you like, princess?” he hissed at her, taking deliberate steps in her direction. The nickname rolling from his tongue like acid.