Seal'd to Her: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Get a move on!”

  A sob tore through my lungs, but I had this sinking suspicion that my tears would win me no favor. Whoever this was, they were out to either use me for ransom so that my dad can pay some ridiculous sum of money, or they were human traffickers, and I was going to be sold to some pathetic rich foreign bastard, to be his whore.

  As we sped off, all hope to be found or saved diminished. It would be at least three hours before anyone discovered I was gone. That is if I was lucky enough for someone to come look for me. By then we could be halfway to the next state. The way my heart was beating felt as if it was going to crush right through my rib cage. I realised I was never going to see the light of day again, and I started to cry hysterically.

  “Shut the hell up! Jesus you’re fucking annoying!” one of the hoodlums shouted.

  “I don’t want to die!” I cried.

  “Well then shut your trap and I might spare your fucking life,” he muttered.

  Just then screeching tires, followed by a loud bang sounded. My whole body jerked and I crashed into the seat in front of me. My bones and muscles felt like they were being crushed. My lungs contracted with such force that it felt as if I was suffocating. If I wasn’t bound, my arms and legs would be flailing, but now I was at the mercy of gravity and velocity. As if the cloth over my face wasn’t enough, my world kept flickering from semi-darkness to complete darkness. The only sound that filled my ears was the crushing of metal and glass. Then suddenly, everything stopped and the strong smell of gasoline filled my nose. I frantically tried to move, but to no avail. Out of the blue, two strong hands gripped me under my arms and hoisted me up before tugging the bag off my head.

  Oh my god, it was Irish! He worked for my father, it all made sense all of a sudden. He’s trying to play my dad and using me as bait! Frantically I tried to back away from him, hopping with my bound feet until I crashed to the ground.

  “Easy Alana, your dad sent me, we don’t have much time,” he said calmly.

  “What do you mean we…?”

  He snapped the cable ties with a quick flick of his wrist and picked me up, cradling me in his arms, “I would love to explain it to you, but now is not the time,” he interrupted and stalked over to a BMW parked not far from the crash.

  Around us the street was deserted, considering the accident I was surprised that no one came out to investigate. Other than the smashed-up SUV, there was no other vehicle involved. From what I could see, they must have swerved out of Irish’s way and hit the barrier on the side of the street.

  “Where’s my dad?” I asked instead as he gently put me into the passenger seat.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?” he asked ignoring my question. But the way he carefully felt down my legs for any broken bones made me feel all warm and fuzzy, despite the circumstances we were facing.

  “I-I don’t think so, just my head and my jaw,” I whispered.

  “I’ll see to that cut as soon as we are out of harm’s way,” he reassured me and then walked to the wreckage. He pulled a gun out of his jacket. Two shots rang in the air as he pointed it to the injured men, shooting each one at point range in the head. Fear ricocheted through me again and I covered my head with my hands, smothering a scream.

  When the driver’s door opened and closed next to me, I looked at Irish, “Who were those men?”

  With one hand on the steering wheel, and the other resting casually on the center console as he half leaned to the side, he simply stared straight ahead. The way his brows were drawn together and his lips were set in a tight line, he looked dangerous to say the least. Clearly, he was not going to answer my questions right now.

  I pulled the hem of my shirt up and tried to wipe the blood from my face.

  “Here,” he said and handed me a handkerchief.

  Talk about strange days and weird people, I thought as I patted the cut above my brow and wiped the blood from my face. He just killed two men in cold blood and then he hands me a handkerchief like a real gentleman.

  Liam “Irish”

  That was too fucking close for words; I should have been there much earlier. I was pissed with myself for almost losing Alana to those fuckers, god knows what I would have done if that was the case. Fergus had trusted me with the safety of his daughter, and not even 12 hours later, she’s abducted.

  I drove for about an hour before turning off onto a small dirt road. I stopped the car and got out to pull some branches and leaves across the open path to obscure it from passers-by. If I was going to protect Alana, I was on my own; I couldn’t trust anyone, not even my own men. Fergus’ men were working on clearing his name, his best legal team was on this, but getting past the FBI was no easy task. Look, Fergus was no innocent bystander, he’s a king pin, but so far, he has avoided the Feds, and they haven’t been able to pin him to any of the underground crime syndicates. Until now. The thing is, this current mess was not his doing at all.

  A wickedly devised plan by one of the rival gangs had placed his name at the center of one of the biggest scandals to ever hit the city. His hands may be dirty with laundering real estate money, but he never gotten involved in the drug scene. That was one thing O’Devlin avoided at all costs, and now the FBI was hunting him down for just that. Someone who posed as O’Devlin imported illegal drugs and pharmaceuticals and now his name was more tainted than ever. Not even our FBI informant could get Fergus out of this one without being caught himself.

  With Fergus in exile God knows where, I am the one to protect Alana, at least for now. Unfortunately for her, and with the current state of affairs, she would not be able to attend college and she would have to be in hiding too. Alana would serve as excellent bait for both the Feds and the Bronx Raiders to lure Fergus out of hiding.

  We drove for another hour before pulling up to a cottage. The place stood dissolved into the shrubs and looked like an abandoned shack barely fit for human occupation. To most, it would be a discomforting and sinister place, but it was the only place I had to escape the rest of the world. Ivy and other creepers crawled over the house as if nature itself was trying to hide dark secrets that lay beyond the threshold of this place.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asked confused.

  “Because this is the only place you are safe at.”

  I had to keep it short at simple. Fergus had worked hard to keep his alter ego a secret from his daughter, and if I had to tell her who her father really was, I doubted that would go down well.

  “Well I insist you take me to my father, I’m sure he won’t be impressed if you kept me here,” she muttered and shoved the door open.

  I couldn’t help but let out a frustrated breath. She really had no idea what her father was involved in. I casually opened my door and got out, then leaned with my arms on the roof of the car and watched her limp a few feet down the dirt road.

  “The moment you get to the open road, you’ll be roadkill sweetheart, those men who came after you are not likely to let you just slip out of their hands like that.”

  She carried on walking and I counted down from ten.

  “Have you ever heard of the Bronx Raiders?”

  The mention of one of the most renowned gangs in Boston made her stop in her tracks. I casually dropped my arms to my sides and circled the car before leaning back against it.

  “What are you trying to say Irish?”

  I shrugged, “Those are the guys who abducted you tonight, they are out for blood,” I said plainly.

  She huddled back until she was a few feet in front of me. She had the same challenging glare in her eyes that her father often wore. Only, her green eyes were more intense against her pale skin.

  “Why my blood?” she asked.

  “Long story short, they’re after your father, and you’re the only way they can get to him.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” she said raising her voice slightly.

  “Mind your tongue.” I scolded and then nodded with my head for
her to follow, “Let’s get inside first and I’ll give you the run down.”

  “I’m not going into that place,” she protested.

  “Then stay out here, but I promise you, it will be much safer in there than out here.”

  Without a glance back at Alana, I grabbed my bag from the trunk and headed to the cabin. Home sweet home, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. It wasn’t much, a small cabin with a small nook as a kitchen. To the left was a full bed, and next to the bed, a small door that led to the bathroom. I haven’t been back here for a couple of months, and dust had settled on the furniture. Simple rustic chairs, a small table big enough for two people was about all I owned, aside from the few books I kept on a makeshift book shelf I put together with pallets.

  I kept a watchful eye on her as she stood worrying her lips outside. With the weather turning, she wasn’t going to stay out there for long. Leaving her to her thoughts, I carried on stacking logs in the fireplace and getting the food ready for lunch. It had been a long night and an even longer morning. I still couldn’t believe that I lost her at that frat party she was at. One moment she was clinging to a pretty boy, and the next minute she was gone. My first fear was that she was somewhere in one of the bedrooms getting laid.

  I crashed into every single room to stop her from wasting her time and pussy on some lame college boy. It was only after I turned the place upside down that I heard one of her friends bitch about the fact that she was such a spoil sport for leaving the party. Every second counted, and when I came up to her apartment and I saw those fuckers loading her into their SUV, I knew I had to act fast. Thankfully my attempt to thwart their attempts at kidnapping her paid off and didn’t wreck my car. They could have easily crashed into me instead of the barrier, but the driver reacted as I had hoped and swerved. That of course also had my blood running cold, doing what I did could have cost Alana her life too.

  By the time the water was on the stove and I had some instant noodles with a dash of ketchup ready for lunch, I moved on to more important matters. I lifted the heavy bag filled with guns and ammo onto the table and carefully started to unpack the contents. I had to take stock of what I had on me. I was alone in this, and would need every bit of ammo I can lay my hands on. I had a Colt 1908 hand gun, which may just come in handy. I cocked it and checked the casing and barrel. I haven’t used it for a while, but it was still in good shape. A Colt M1911, which I always carried on my person, two AK-47 rifles and a collection of knives. Amongst all the guns, I had a few hand grenades and smoke bombs. Okay so maybe explaining the full weight of the situation to Alana at this point was not ideal, but sooner or later she had to learn that this life she expected to be all roses and sunshine is everything but. For a moment I was pretty pissed at Fergus for keeping this from her. I mean seriously, what the fuck did he think? If he really wanted to protect his daughter, he should have sent her away and given her a new identity when she was fucking two years old. Hell, he should’ve stopped fighting his ex-wife and let her take Alana.

  “Selfish fucking bastard,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Who’s a selfish bastard?”

  Without looking up, I started stacking the ammunition back into the bag, “No one,” I muttered.

  “Are those all yours?”

  Her voice carried a tone of curiosity, which surprised me. I half expected her to tremble in fear, like a mouse caught in the trap. I was even more surprised when she walked up to the table and picked up the Colt.

  “I’ve used one of these before,” she said quietly, “My dad taught me how to shoot.”

  I’m not going to lie, but watching her hold that gun, running those pale slender fingertips over it as if she was stroking it, was a total fucking turn on. She studied it with such reverence that I could hardly focus on the task at hand. For the first time since I practically saved her life a few hours ago, I noticed her, really noticed her. She may be twenty, but she sure as hell didn’t look her age. She was gorgeous to say the least, her long red hair framed her delicately heart-shaped face, and willow green eyes caressed the weapon she held in her hands. Her body was petite but lush with curves in all the right places. The low-rise jeans she wore along with a sexy red vest hugged her figure scandalously. Her perky tits, the erect nipples poking against the ribbed fabric, were begging for attention.

  Whoa! Easy there Irish! I scolded; this was no time to perve over a twenty-year-old, especially not Fergus’ daughter. That would be like a personal death wish and a signed funeral policy. Without another word, I reached over and gently took the gun from her.

  “You might have to use it again soon, but not today,” I smirked.

  She frowned and looked at me, “I will never shoot a man,” she said and put the gun down again.

  She still didn’t grasp the full weight of the situation. I shook my head, zipped up the bag and padlocked it. Not for my own safety but for hers, because I was sure as hell not going to sit around while she helps herself to my stuff. Who knows what was going on in that pretty head?

  She walked around to the stove and lifted the lid off the pot.

  “What on earth is this?”

  “Food, help yourself.”

  “I’m not eating this; it looks like someone vomited into the pot.”

  Oh dear god help me! This woman was going to drive me insane, “Then go hungry.”

  “Do you actually live here?” she mumbled rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

  “No, I hide here.”

  She pulled a sideways pout and came to stand across from me again, “So where do I sleep?”

  I nodded towards the bed.

  “And where do you sleep?”

  I smirked and pointed to the bed again.

  “Are you serious? I am not sharing a bed with you!” she said in a high-pitched tone.

  “Then you can take the floor.”

  “Brute,” she muttered under her breath and stormed out of the cabin.

  I watched her through the small window as she marched towards the car. She tugged on the door handle and then walked around to the driver’s side and tugged again, as if her first try wasn’t a clear sign that the fucking car was locked. I rolled my eyes, fished in my pocket for the keys and pressed the unlock button on the remote. The indicators flashed twice, and she glared towards the cabin sending daggers my way.

  She would probably last the day sitting in the car. Sooner or later she will get thirsty and hungry and sleeping in the back seat will be a royal pain in Miss Priss’s arse. It’s just a matter of time. I’m here to protect her, and that’s that, I made no promises to Fergus to put his little princess up in a five-star hotel with servants falling over the feet at her every beck and call. God, I’m already irritated with her and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.

  Alana

  What an absolute moron, he was as thick as a plank if he thought I would be sharing his bed or his table. I’d rather sleep in the car if I had to. I looked up at the sky and shivered. There’s a bad storm brewing and I could only pray that there would be no lightning or thunder. A few drops of rain I could handle, but when the skies light up, I’m a complete mess. I hated thunder, even from a young age. It started shortly after I turned four, I think. My father had taken us camping in the mountains and two days into our camping trip, we were caught in quite a big storm. I was trapped in that small tent crying my eyes out while my father tried his best to contact emergency services. Help did get to us a few hours later, but it had been those few hours that instilled the fear I had for thunder and lightning today.

  My stomach growled, and I realized that I haven’t had anything to eat since the party. As I sat in the passenger seat, I glanced around the car, surely there had to be a protein bar or something in here. I flipped open the glove compartment and dug through the stuff in there, nothing but a road map, a few random pieces of paper and a whack of receipts. I was rather amused by that though, Irish didn’t look to me like the type who would hang on to receipts.
I pulled out a handful for a closer study; Walmart, gas stations, fast food, just general crap.

  “Ooh what have we here,” I said to myself as I took a closer look at one of the receipts.

  It was from a strip club and he ran up quite a bill that night. What a creep, I thought to myself. Typical brute who would spend his hard earned money on prostitutes just to get a kick out of life. But something in my stomach twisted as I flipped through receipt after receipt. He got around quite a lot, and I couldn’t understand what a handsome man like him would do at such scummy places. Wait, what?! Handsome?—where the hell did that come from? He wasn't handsome; he was my dad’s age for crying out loud. And he obviously had an unhealthily high sex drive. One receipt in particular stood out, I had heard the boys at college talk about this place—Fantasia. The club was renowned for its debauchery and secret gatherings where men and women alike got to live out their wildest fantasies and completely lose their inhibitions. I tapped my finger on my lips, for a moment wondering what Irish’s wildest fantasies could be. No, no, no, I’m not going there, that would just lead me down the yellow brick road to trouble. A sudden loud bang echoed through the skies and I jumped with a loud squeal. Great, now the thunder started and I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere in a car. I glanced towards the cabin, no sign of Irish anywhere. I contemplated my next step, I could go back inside and accept the fact that I would sleep on the floor, although I really did not look forward to that, or I could wait it out in the car. But as the sound of rolling thunder drew closer, I made up my mind. I was about to get out of the car when a brilliant shock of white light forked silently through the sky. I swore it made landfall just a few feet away from the car, and then there was that loud thunderous boom. I yelped and sunk back into the seat. I had to get back inside, no questions, and if I was going to make a run for it, I better do it now. I looked up at the sky; big drops had already started splattering to the ground like tiny little goons. I gripped the door handle, flung the car door open, and suddenly it was a downpour of rain as if someone had opened the sluices of a dam. I shut the door and made a run for it, landing on the porch just as the next bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. I barged into the cabin soaking wet, only to run into a steal wall of flesh. Irish’s hands gripped my shoulders firmly, and that’s when I noticed he was butt naked. I shielded my eyes and jumped away from him as if his touch burned me.