The Bandit

by B. B. Reid

  “In due time. First, I want to play.”

  “My son has nothing to do with whatever sick game you think this is.”

  His chuckle was deeper and smoother than I remembered. “So what’s his name?”

  “Excuse me?” I gasped and struggled to control my breathing, but it was impossible as I replayed the image of my son being taken.

  “You risked a lot for him. Surely, he has a name.”

  “His name is Caylen, and I would risk everything for him.”

  The silence was brief and then he coldly uttered, “Well, then Caylen will be waiting for you at my father’s home. You have two hours.” I realized a moment too late that he had hung up, so I looked around for answers.

  I was alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. –Sun Tzu

  ANGEL

  I hung up and closed my eyes tight. Catching her unguarded gave me some of the sweet satisfaction I had yearned for, but I wouldn’t be completely satisfied until I had her helpless and at my mercy.

  She would learn quickly that I had none when it came to her. Not anymore. Leaving her alone these past three years had been mercy enough until she made the first move that put us at war.

  I was the Bandit and the Knight.

  The position came to each new generation when the last son stepped down or died. Protecting our legacy meant protecting the family and it was now my duty. I would fulfill that duty by imprisoning her under my control.

  Completely.

  I could have easily taken her when I had her son stolen from her arms, but what fun would that had been? She needed to suffer in the worst way—a way that only a mother could, and while my actions sealed my fate and my spot in hell, I welcomed the rush I felt knowing I’d have her soon.

  “Do you think she will come?” Lucas, breaking the silence and stole me from the dark and back to reality.

  “What other choice does she have? We have her kid.” Each time I was forced to acknowledge that Mian spread her legs for some faceless man was like a knife stabbing deep. The wound felt akin to betrayal. It was jealousy of another man taking what could never be mine. Secretly, I added the pain she caused to her list of grievances and promised to make her pay.

  “She could go to the police. You haven’t paid off every cop in the city. So what then?”

  “She’s a smart girl. She’ll know going to the police is a risk.”

  Lucas decided to push. “But?”

  His paranoia wasn’t unwarranted. Lucas didn’t know Mian. I knew her all too well. “She’s pigheaded like her father. She thinks she’s a fighter.” I could get lost in memories of just how pigheaded my little bandit could be. Back then, I enjoyed pushing her. It was like luring a fish out of water and watching it squirm.

  I would show I was merciful by letting her drown in her illusion of safety before doing it all over again.

  “So how will we persuade her?”

  Mian’s love was possessive. I’ve seen it in how she mourned her mother and loved her father, despite him being undeserving. Fear would make her seek help, but instinct would drive her here instead. She’s a mother. “He’s all the persuasion she needs.”

  “My murder vitae doesn’t include children.” He looked visibly sick. Silently, I shared his sentiment. Of all the bad shit I’d done, stealing a kid was the most fucked up. I told myself it was for the greater good of my family, but what honor can be found among thieves?

  “I’ll handle the kid if it comes to that.”

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. “And her?”

  I held his gaze and spoke only when I trusted my voice would give no reason for doubt. “I vowed on my father’s grave that she’ll suffer.”

  Just hours before Mian had waved the red flag, I visited my father’s grave for the first time since he was put there.

  It seemed fate wasn’t on her side.

  The doubt in Lucas’s eyes slowly faded away. He then scratched his chin and looked beyond my shoulder as if recalling something important. “She’s pretty scrappy,” he finally said and then chuckled at the memory. “It may not be as easy as manhandling her into doing what we want.”

  “Hence, the kid. We beat her if we have to, but use the kid to persuade her before it comes to that.” A familiar glimmer brightened by the second. Lucas was nothing if not daring. He got off on pushing limits, same as I.

  “And if we could persuade her another way?” I glanced across the room where Z dwelled in a corner. He had been quiet until now.

  The three of us had shared more women than either of us could count. When one of us was through, if she proved tempting enough, she would find herself in the next brother’s bed. However, Mian was still alive so we could bring her pain, not pleasure. “Fucking her won’t be on the agenda even if she wants it.”

  And with one or all of us persuading her, there was no doubt she’d want it.

  I felt my cock harden and swiftly tent the sweatpants I’d slept in. Of all the women I’ve sampled and devoured, Mian was the only one to make me feel anxious like a horny teen again. She made me vulnerable.

  And for that, I had to destroy her.

  I was thankful for the desk hiding my erection even if I failed to hide my irritation. Lucas was smirking when he said, “We want to know if she means something to you.”

  “She’s revenge. She’s the daughter of the man who murdered my father.” I glanced back and forth between the only two men who could challenge me and live to do it again. “Pure and fucking simple.”

  He waited a beat before saying, “How many times do you think you’ll need to say that before you start believing it?”

  “What else does she need to be?” I questioned coldly.

  “For your sake, we hope you never find out,” Lucas answered smoothly. My gaze shifted to Z, and I braced for his two cents, but he remained quiet. He looked as if he was concentrating with a deep frown wrinkling the space between his eyebrows.

  When he noticed my attention, his expression slackened into impassiveness. “What are we supposed to do with the kid while we torture his mother?” His swift change in subject wasn’t expected, but I welcomed the opportunity to end the interrogation. “We’re not nannies and hiring one is risky. It could backfire on us.”

  His argument wasn’t one that I hadn’t considered before. Outside of Lucas and Z, there wasn’t anyone I trusted. After my father’s death, I was firmly against letting anyone else close. Lucas and Z were left in charge of the men we pay to get their hands dirty—dirt such as kidnapping a baby in broad daylight. Even then, we kept only a few on the books because I trusted no one who hadn’t bled for me or with me.

  “I’ve got it covered.”

  “How?”

  “Milly.” She was my parent’s part-time maid and had been on vacation the night Mian broke in . Whenever she wasn’t cleaning, a silent alarm that rerouted the signal to me instead of the police was activated. Mian had mistaken good luck for fate’s worst hand.

  “The maid? You think we should trust her?”

  “My father trusted her to clean his home, which meant he was paying her more than a maid’s salary to keep her mouth shut.” Lucas and Z didn’t look convinced, and frankly, I wasn’t either. My father’s death had proven that he wasn’t very adept at trusting the right people. “We use her if we’re in over our heads. Not before.”

  Collectively, they nodded. Caring for a baby while I tortured Mian for information and paid Theo back for his death by breaking his precious daughter wasn’t ideal, but my choices were as limited as Mian’s days.

  I checked my watched and realized only twenty minutes had passed since we took Mian’s son. If she were smart, she would be on her way by now. There was only one thing left to do.

  I sna
tched up my phone and placed a call to a man who would ensure Mian would obey and come quietly. She lived in one of the most dangerous areas in Chicago, and it just so happened that I had the district’s commander in my pocket as well as the city’s Chief of Police. I should have had eyes on her a long time ago.

  But you wouldn’t have just stopped there…

  The sour voice of the police commander’s voice chased away destructive thoughts. “Mr. Knight, to what do I owe—”

  “Cut the bullshit. Who do you have on rotation tonight?” He immediately ticked off a list of names. Most of district seven was in my pocket, but there were a few straight shooters. When he coughed and mentioned one overzealous cop who thought himself a detective and had been a thorn in my side for years, I cut him off. “Give Office Garrett the rest of the night off.”

  “Is there any reason why you’re making such an impossible request? He’ll ask questions.”

  “Do you think I give a fuck? Garrett is your problem. Handle him, or I’ll handle you both.” I gave him a detailed description of her even though I haven’t seen her in three years. I’d rehearsed every line and plane of her body over the years when my infatuation wouldn’t allow me to forget she ever existed. I could have found her but forcing myself not to was tantamount to sanity. “If she comes, show her the door. Got it?”

  “May I ask why she would come here?”

  “I don’t pay you to question me. I pay you to do what the fuck I say.” I hung up and rubbed my temples. A strong drink might have done a better job alleviating the headache, but if I overindulged, I wouldn’t have been on guard for when she arrived.

  “Thomas is beginning to ask too many questions,” Z remarked. “Are you sure we’re paying him enough?”

  “We’re paying him all he’s going to get. Any more and he’ll be more beneficial to me dead.” The ice around my heart made me sit back with my eyes closed.

  When had I become this ruthless?

  “She’s left the city.”

  My eyes cracked open to see Lucas’s phone lit in his hand and Z’s steady gaze watching me. “Are you ready for this?”

  Since I first laid eyes on her.

  When the men arrived with the kid, Lucas and Z disappeared to handle it. I could hear his cries no matter how much distance I put between us. I wondered if he cried for her or if he could sense the danger he was in.

  I found myself standing in the doorway of the prison I’d made just for her. To the naked eye, it was a normal guest room, but to Mian, it would be so much more. The large bed rested against the far wall where two tall windows flanked the bed. The sills were wide enough to properly seat two people. The bed’s honeycomb headboard was adorned with black leather cuffs that stood out against the gold finish. They were attached to the head and footboard, and I knew Mian would question their presence when she saw them.

  Had they been used on someone?

  Would I use them on her?

  I knew the way Mian’s mind worked better than she did.

  Since she wouldn’t be a guest in the traditional sense, the bed was left bare. My mother preferred zoned temperature control since she chilled easier than Dad and me. The temperature in her prison had been lowered to sixty degrees.

  I smiled and pictured her face the moment she realized there was no surviving this. Everything she’d encountered during her time here was designed to overwhelm her. Comfort was the last thing she’d be afforded. This wasn’t the worst I could do to her. How far I went would depend on her.

  My father’s lessons didn’t include how to toss a ball or catch fish.

  His lessons taught me how to be cruel without lifting a finger.

  This was one of many reasons I was grateful for his lessons. Putting my finger on any part of Mian’s body would land us both in fucked up territory. That’s where Lucas and Z unknowingly came in. I’d lied to them earlier. If I ever found myself unable to resist her, I planned to unleash them on her. They’d willingly perform when I couldn’t, and I would no longer want her after they had her.

  She wasn’t like the women we share. Once they were through with her, she would finally lose her hold on me.

  I was counting on it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Behind enemy lines.

  MIAN

  I searched through the cheap plastic phone and found nothing. No contacts. No messages. Only one phone call had ever been placed. It must have been one of those throwaways I’ve seen my dad use.

  Call the police…

  After quickly dialing the three digits, I placed the phone to my ear and waited for the automatic connection. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

  “Please, my son—” I didn’t get the chance to say more. The phone disappeared from my ear, and I lost my grip. I spun around and found another hulking body standing over me. This gooney was just as large as the last. His sharp jaws, amber eyes, and shoulder length blond hair was almost Nordic.

  “No police,” he grunted with an American accent.

  My body swayed and threatened to hit the concrete. Fear for my son replaced desperation at the knowledge I was being watched. Why hadn’t Angel just taken me when he had the chance? What game was he playing?

  “Will you take me to him?”

  He shook his head. “Not my orders.”

  Before I could argue or scream as I should have, he disappeared with the throwaway. Fifteen minutes later, I hailed a cab.

  “Where to?” the cabbie impatiently demanded. He was already eager to get to his next fare. I recited the address I was grateful to have committed to memory. He turned around and stared with a knowing gaze. Under normal circumstances, I could never afford this type of fair. I reeked of poverty. “It’s going to be two hours because of traffic.”

  I swallowed my scream of frustration. I had already lost too much time finding a cab. Art’s home was hidden deep in the rich suburbs of Illinois where buses didn’t venture because everyone drove foreign cars—not to mention the only thing out there were rich families who lived miles apart.

  The cabbie wasn’t done trying to dissuade me. “It’s going to be expensive.”

  Slowly, I pulled the cash I had made from the pawn and with shaking hands, slapped it against the window dividing us. “This is nine hundred dollars. It’s all yours if you can get there sooner.”

  Wordlessly, he turned back and gunned the engine. My head rested against the backrest of the cab. My innocent baby had fallen into the hands of a monster. And the boy who protected me for six years and taught me how to throw a punch was that monster.

  After my mom had died, my father’s light and zest for living never returned. Gone were the days when he taught me how to make the best of life even during sad times. His lessons had become nothing but a myriad of harsh realities and truths.

  But there was one lesson I’d never forget…

  One day, someone is going to cause you pain. When that day comes, you show them what hell feels like.

  Before Mom had died, my father would always promise he’d be there to fight all of my battles. When she was gone, I stubbornly never let that part of him go. Even when he did.

  Angel was sickened by the hold my father had on me.

  He knew how much my father’s absence hurt me. I knew how much he hurt me. My father knew, too. He just hadn’t cared.

  “We’re here, Miss.” I jerked upright and looked out the cab windshield. The beautiful monstrosity was even bigger in daylight. It wasn’t the only difference. The stone wall that surrounded the acres was now adorned with a metal gate. On the left pillar was a keypad. I was running out of time and was unsure of how to get inside. He never mentioned a code. Had it been in the phone?

  Frantically, I looked at the time on the dash.

  I’m out of time.

  Just as I felt the first tremble of grief, the metal ga
tes slowly opened inward, clearing a path.

  Sagging against the dingy seats, I simply breathed. The cab drove through the gates, and when the car stopped once again, I took the wad of cash I promised and handed it to the driver.

  I was gutted when he accepted the money without remorse. He was grossly overpaid, but the gleam in his eyes told me he didn’t care that I was back at square one. I had no money to feed us if we made it out of this alive. Caylen needed a doctor, and now I didn’t even have the cash to pay for the visit. Our future wasn’t looking any brighter than our present.

  Not for the first time, I considered giving him up if I wanted him to survive. I needed his survival more than my own.

  The taxi took off as soon as I shut the door, and I wished for the world to stop, even if only for a moment.

  I climbed the familiar steps lined with fresh flowers and thick, green bushes. I didn’t have time to admire the landscape when I was here three nights ago, but the beauty was more than I expected from ruthless men. I waited for a beat in front of the gargantuan doors.

  The closest house was miles away. Help was miles away. Could I really do this?

  At some point, while I stood there deliberating, the right door opened. A woman dressed in an ugly, navy dress stood in the doorway with a sour expression. I would need an ally if escape was necessary. Could she be it? I searched her face for signs of kindness.

  “Mr. Knight has been expecting you. I presume you are Ms. Ross?”

  Nope. Not friendly.

  “I presume I am,” I answered with mock propriety. Angel had waged a war when he took my son. Anyone he associated with was the enemy. I guess that included the help.

  She lifted her nose higher in the air and stepped away to clear a path inside without losing her pinched expression.

  “He awaits you in the common room.”

  “Oh, does he? Tell him I await him here, and I’d like him to bring my son who he kidnapped. I presume you know about that?” She pinned me with a stare unbecoming of hired help and walked off without offering a response. She had to be an employee. I saw none of Angel’s features in her, and Angel didn’t strike me as the type to prefer women twice his age. She was either loyal to a fault, or he paid his help well not to ask questions.