The Bandit

by B. B. Reid

  “I never considered that I had been outsmarted.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “There’s a silent alarm that’s routed to Lucas, Z, or myself whenever triggered. You tripped that alarm the day you broke in.”

  “And?”

  “The alarm was disarmed and reactivated the day before you broke in.”

  Which meant he’d been betrayed.

  “Why didn’t you pick this up before?”

  “We missed it.”

  “And so you kidnapped my son.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, you did break into my house.”

  I decided to ignore that. “Even so… what makes you so sure that I’m innocent?”

  “Because whoever deactivated the alarm wouldn’t take the time to reactivate it unless they were trying to hide something… and whoever knew about the alarm had to know about the book.”

  “So does this mean you’re going to let us go?” He avoided my gaze when he didn’t answer. “Angel?”

  “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  I was caught off guard. “Pardon?”

  “When you were in trouble. Why didn’t you come to me?” My mouth opened to speak, but words didn’t come. “I wouldn’t have abandoned you like your aunt and uncle did.”

  “But isn’t that what you did long before I got pregnant?”

  “My father had just been murdered by your father. What did you expect?”

  “Friendship.” He flinched. I knew he didn’t expect my answer, but it was the truth. “I know you were hurt, but I wasn’t the one to pull the trigger.”

  “I know.”

  “Then how could you expect me to run to you at the first sign of trouble?”

  “Because you should have known me better than that,” he gritted.

  “Yeah? Then where were you?”

  “Grieving.” He moved closer to me and in a desperate attempt to keep space between us, my back hit the mattress. He caged me in by leaning over and resting his hand on the other side of my body. “My father wasn’t winning any awards, but he was the only one I had.”

  “I know. I lost my mother too, remember?”

  “You loved your mother,” he pointed out as if there was a difference.

  “Didn’t you love your father?”

  He frowned, and I sensed he was sincerely confused. “I’m not sure.”

  Art was never cruel, but he had a lot of rough edges. He was a formidable man, and even dead, I could see some of him living through his son.

  “You can’t blame your father for the bad decisions you made after he died.”

  “Why can’t I?” I could have sworn his mouth moved closer when he spoke. My heart stuttered before picking up speed.

  “Because I’m not buying it.”

  “Then what will you buy?”

  I saw it then. He was closing the distance between us. I could feel the beginning of panic rising in my chest.

  “My freedom,” I whispered truthfully. I needed to get away from him. Formidable Angel couldn’t break me, but sweet Angel would wreck me.

  “And how much are you willing to pay?” His hand clutched the layers of silk and pushed them up my legs. We were riding fast with no brakes with a dangerous cliff up ahead.

  He wanted my body as payment for freedom?

  Haven’t I already paid enough?

  I pushed against his chest, and since he wasn’t expecting it, he fell back enough for me to scramble from underneath him.

  “What—”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “You’re insane if you think I’ll let you touch me and I’ll kill you if you try.”

  “Fall apart with me, and maybe I’ll let you.” If his promise didn’t tempt me, then it was definitely the way he watched me as he stood from the bed. “Come here.” When I didn’t move, he removed his phone from his pocket and set it on the nightstand. “I’m not leaving, and neither are you. I told Lucas to lock the door behind me.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I wanted to be alone with you.”

  “You and I both know that’s not a good idea.”

  His grin was wide and bright. “Because you can’t resist me?”

  Yes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He didn’t respond and walked around the bed. I was tempted to crawl to the other side to keep my distance, but running would only amuse him. So, stupidly, I stood my ground, and when he got close, I held my breath.

  “Never a dull moment with you, Sprite.”

  “I assure you I don’t want to be entertaining.”

  “Nevertheless…” He reached behind me and tugged free the tiny buttons holding the dress together. Soon I was naked with nothing but my hands to cover me. When he took them and placed them on his chest, I knew I was screwed. “Now undress me .”

  “Why would I do that?” I questioned. My hands wouldn’t move from his chest, so did it really matter?

  “I don’t want anything between us.”

  “But captors don’t sleep with their prisoners.” He took my chin in his hand and gently lifted my face. There was no regret in his gaze. Only desire.

  He pressed his lips against mine, and I got a taste of the alcohol on his tongue before he pulled back. “Things are different now.” His gaze dropped to my hard nipples. “Much different.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  It’s over.

  MIAN

  Three Years Ago

  We snatched apart.

  I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and guilt. Angel turned away so I couldn’t see his face, but I noticed him adjust his shorts. I could blame what I had almost done on the shotguns, but I knew it wouldn’t be true. I started to feel something foreign for Angel the day he made me beat up my bully. It took me months to admit I was crushing on him.

  I was surprised when he took my hand and led me downstairs. I didn’t think it was a good idea for our fathers to see us like this. He must have thought the same because he dropped my hand when we entered the living room where Daddy and Uncle Art waited. Daddy was busy looking out the window, but Art’s attention was fixed on where our joined hands had been. Had he seen?

  My skin prickled with that feeling of being watched and realized it was Art who was now watching me. Being the center of his attention was too intimidating, so I looked away. I wasn’t all that sure the guilt of what we’d almost done upstairs wasn’t visible.

  “Son.”

  “Dad.”

  The air was cold as father and son faced off. They never seemed to be close, and I had a feeling Art’s constant absence was to blame. Even so, Angel was more like his father than anyone would have guessed.

  “Baby girl,” my father warmly greeted. His arms were open as he moved away from the window. Like a true father’s girl, I rushed into them like I hadn’t just seen him hours ago. My anger over him leaving again was forgotten. Over the last two weeks, I became the center of his world again while Angel took a break. I didn’t doubt that it was me he needed a break from. He was only supposed to be gone a week, but much to Art’s irritation, he was gone for two.

  “I thought you had to leave? Are you staying longer?” I asked with hope in my voice. The pain in his eyes told me my answer before he spoke. “It’s okay if you can’t. I know—”

  A mocking laugh cut short the excuse I was willing to make for my father. Angel watched our exchange with his face twisted from disgust.

  “This isn’t your business,” Daddy growled.

  Angel didn’t appear fazed. “Mian is my business. She certainly isn’t yours.”

  “Angeles!” His father roared. I drew back, but Angel didn’t even flinch. He never took his hard gaze from my dad. “Come with me to the kit
chen.” Angel didn’t budge at first, but one look at me had him retreating to the kitchen with his father.

  I was fighting back the tears even though I wasn’t surprised. Over the years, Angel had become increasingly hostile toward Daddy. I didn’t know if he truly cared about my father’s absence in my life or if he was holding a grudge for being stuck with me.

  “Baby girl.” I didn’t realize I was staring even after Angel disappeared until I heard my father call my name.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “You know I would stay if I could.”

  You can. You just don’t want to. “I know.” I smiled, but I didn’t feel it. My father would leave me no matter what I said or felt, so I chose to be silent and numb.

  “I enjoyed these last couple of weeks. You’ve grown into a young woman so fast.” Or maybe it’s because I can count on one hand how many times a year I get to see you. “You’re old enough to take care of yourself now. Maybe better than I or anyone can.”

  I frowned and stared into my father’s troubled eyes. What was he saying?

  I didn’t get to ask. That feeling whenever Angel was near had returned, and I found him hovering in the doorway. His glare was filled with hate and fixed on Daddy. I tore my attention away from Angel and found Daddy staring back. There was worry etched in his features.

  “What’s going on?” I directed to my father.

  “Sprite.” Angel wouldn’t speak again until he had my full attention. “Let’s go.”

  “What?”

  “I want to get out of here. You coming?” The doorway was empty before I could even form a response. I stared at the empty space wondering what was happening. In minutes, it felt as if my entire world had shifted.

  “You should go.”

  I faced my father again and let my disbelief shine through. “I should go?”

  “He looks like he could use the company.” When I continued to stare, he added, “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Uh… okay.”

  He smiled, but it was sad. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He kissed my forehead and then he was gone. The house was too silent. I took slow steps out of the house and found Angel standing by his car. His head hung, and his hands were shoved in his pockets. Suddenly, his head lifted, and I was surprised to find his eyes blank.

  What the hell was going on ? I slowly repeated to myself.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Pete’s,” he simply said and started down the block on foot. I fell in step next to him. Pete’s had the best burgers in all of Chicago. It was only a couple of blocks away, and on weekends, you could find most of the neighborhood hanging around the restaurant since there was a skating rink next door.

  Halfway there, memories of our kiss seeped into my mind.

  For a moment, he was almost mine.

  I touched my lips and peeked up at him. He looked deep in thought, his body tense as he led us with long strides. When we got to Pete’s, he chose our seats. We ordered as soon as the waiter came since we both always got the same thing. An extra cheesy bacon burger with a side of fries and a strawberry milkshake.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Your father is a prick,” he said through a french fry he was chewing.

  “Do you hate him because of me?”

  He shook his head and stuffed more fries in his mouth. If he wasn’t so hot, I would be turned off by his lack of table manners. “I hate him because he’s a prick.”

  “Your father ain’t a peach either.”

  “I know, but the difference is, I don’t care. You do.”

  “He’s your father. Of course, you care.”

  “You don’t know me, Sprite.”

  “I know you’re a jerk,” I muttered and sipped at my shake. When I looked up, I found him watching me… or rather, watching my lips around the straw. I don’t know what made me do it, but I sucked a little harder and kept eye contact. The disgust on his face was not the reaction I was looking for. He threw down his napkin and sat back.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  I immediately let go of the straw. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re looking at me that way again.”

  I gulped. Again? Was he talking about today or every single day during the last five years? It started out as an innocent crush, which slowly turned into something that ached in my lower stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, yes, you do.”

  “Ok then. How am I looking at you?”

  “Like you want what I got, and I’m not talking about the food.”

  “I’m not sure I—”

  He leaned over the table. “Listen to me,” he growled. “It will never fucking happen. Do you know why?”

  Stupidly, I shook my head.

  “Because I do not fuck little girls.” My gasp of embarrassment fell on deaf ears. “Jesus, I thought you were cool.” He stood up quickly, and his chair scraped across the floor, drawing attention and adding to my pain. “I’m in love with someone else. Stay away from me.”

  As soon as he pushed through the doors, I flew out of my seat for the bathroom and burst into the nearest stall to empty my guts.

  He was capable of love.

  Just not for me.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Branded.

  MIAN

  Present

  I woke up alone the next morning. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and willed myself to go back under when last night came rushing back. Memories of almost being killed and Angel’s vow that everything was different now left me with a hangover worse than a night of drinking.

  Angel’s grandfather tried to kill me.

  Lucas saved me.

  Angel believed I was innocent.

  Angel slept with me. And he didn’t just sleep with me. He held me the entire night.

  And I liked it.

  I stretched and gazed at the sunlight coming through the window. I didn’t hear the door open, and my back was turned so I couldn’t see, but I felt him like I always did.

  He came into view, and the first thing I noticed was the jeans he wore. My body reacted involuntarily. It’s been years since I’ve seen him in jeans, and it was no argument that he filled them out even better now. The second thing I noticed was the shopping bag he held in his hand.

  He sat down in the space between the edge of the bed and me as he set the bag on the floor. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I inwardly groaned at the deep, raspy sound of my voice. I sounded like a bear whose honey just got stolen.

  “I had clothes brought for you.”

  I perked up. “Clothes?”

  “And shampoo.”

  “Conditioner, too?”

  God, were we actually rhyming? I groaned and covered my eyes with my hands. I peeked through my fingers and caught him staring at my chest. The blanket had slid down to reveal my bare breasts.

  “What’s the catch?” I asked because I wanted his eyes off my chest and because I didn’t trust him.

  “I’m happy to continue parading you around naked.”

  “Or you could just let me go.”

  He broke eye contact and rose from the bed. “Get dressed. You have an hour.”

  As soon as the door closed, I peeked inside the bag and pulled out a simple sky blue dress. It was strapless and short but not fitting enough to make it slutty. It looked like those skater dresses I saw girls wearing lately. There was a smaller pharmacy bag inside the shopping bag. I found shampoo, conditioner, lotion, shaving cream, a razor, shower gel, and a loofah. I finally felt excitement again at the thought of showering.

  Now, the only thing I needed was a pair of underwear and a bra. I stuck my hand in the bag, and the
n my face—but found it empty. Once again, Angel had found a way to keep me prisoner.

  I spent most of my time in the shower when I found the water warm. I even took the time to shave every nook and cranny. When I was almost out of time, I forced myself out. The bedroom door opened just as the dress skimmed past my hips and fell to mid-thigh.

  “I see you do follow orders,” he simply said before leading me downstairs. I expected him to lead me out the door and was surprised when he stopped inside the foyer. We weren’t alone.

  An attractive man, sporting a blonde Mohawk and covered in tattoos checked me out as Angel made the introductions. “Mian, this is Josh. He’s a friend of Z.” He then gave me a look warning me to be on my best behavior.

  Yeah, we’ll see.

  “Nice to meet you, Mian.” He stroked his chin while eye fucking me. He didn’t give me the same hot and gripping feeling Angel did whenever his eyes took liberties with my body. Even Lucas and Z managed to flirt with my desire, though the feeling was never as powerful as the one Angel created. I looked away only to find Angel staring. When I didn’t look away, he smirked as if he knew my secret.

  Was I so transparent?

  Josh finally got the hint and focused his attention on my captor. I cringed when I noticed the gigantic hole in his lobe where skin should be. “Where should I set up?” It was then I noticed the two black cases he held.

  “Dining room.” He led Josh away. Just when I thought I would be left alone to hide, his voice boomed through the foyer. “Mian, come.”

  A sharp whistle followed his command, but when Angel’s back stiffened, I knew it hadn’t come from him. Josh laughed at his own joke. I held my breath waiting for what Angel would do, but he kept walking.

  Once in the dining room, the men sat while I stood and waited by his side. Josh had implied I was a pet, and at that moment, I felt like one.

  “So, what can I do for you, Mr. Knight?”

  “I want this,” he slid a sketch across the table. I only caught a glimpse, but I recognized it as his family crest: A kneeling knight piercing the spine of an open book with his sword. I’d only seen it once, and it hadn’t made sense until now.