The Ransom (The Munro Family Series Book 7)

by Chris Taylor

  Knowing he didn’t care enough to take a chance on her, on them, should have made it easier to turn her back on him, to clear him from her thoughts, from her memories and get on with her life—a life she’d been satisfied with, until he’d entered it. But it didn’t. The pain was just as sharp as it had been earlier, when he’d told her plain and simple there was no future for them.

  Zara leaned back against the couch and wished she could wrap her arms around herself and hold the hurt inside. That way, she wouldn’t have to deal with it. But the bindings around her wrists made such a thing impossible and she stifled a sob of self-pity.

  What was she doing there? Was it about the money Allison owed to Draco? Was Zara now the incentive to get her father to pay? With a sigh of despair, she closed her eyes. That had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense. Allison owed Draco a million dollars and he was waiting to collect. Zara was the bait. Better her than Brittany. It was as simple as that. She could only hope Draco would get the message to her father without delay and that the whole nightmare would soon be over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Wednesday, January 31, 7:06 a.m.

  At the sound of his wife approaching, David looked up from the breakfast table and set aside the newspaper in front of him. He’d opted to sleep in the spare room the past couple of nights and was pleased that he’d done so. Both nights, he’d gone to bed angry that Allison could treat the whole episode with Draco and her drug use and the huge sum of money with such cavalier disregard. He’d spent a nerve-wracking seventy-odd hours, desperately trying to locate Olivia Munro before it was too late, knowing full well the real target had been his daughter and all his wife could do was laugh it all off and promise to make it all better.

  That Olivia had been found alive and unharmed was a relief beyond all measure, but it had nothing to do with his wife’s claim that she’d sort it all out with a phone call. In the end, Draco hadn’t answered and David was more than grateful when Detective Black ignored his wife’s claims and had fallen back on his own resources.

  With Brittany sleeping peacefully down the hall and Olivia safe back home, he’d retired earlier than usual and had managed to string together a pleasant nine hours of uninterrupted sleep. He’d awoken rested and refreshed and feeling slightly less annoyed at the woman who now filled her plate with fresh fruit before moving to take a seat beside him.

  His gaze took in her still-youthful features and he felt a pang of sadness at the thought of the toll her drug use would take out on her face. It hadn’t happened yet, but if she continued the way she was, it was only a matter of time. He’d seen the wild look addicts got; he’d seen the ravages on their skin. Ice was the worst for hallucinations. Long-term users were convinced there were insects living under their skin. David had seen documentaries where addicts as young as seventeen were covered in sores and rashes from scratching and gouging at the bugs they were certain were in there.

  But Allison showed no signs of that yet and he could only hope she’d been saved in time. She’d only done a fortnight at the exclusive rehab clinic in Port Douglas and that was certainly not enough time. He only hoped she’d be willing to return and stay there until she was well.

  She looked up at him cautiously, as if gauging his mood. Sadness flooded through him and he had to blink away the tears. She smiled at him, soft and uncertain and his anger dissipated.

  His wife was ill. Her drug addiction was no more and no less than any addiction. He wouldn’t blame an alcoholic or a gambler or a smoker for their inability to break their habit. He’d see it for what it was—a medical condition that needed treatment. He’d urge any one of them to seek help. He’d offer assistance, compassion, understanding. Those things were the least he could offer his wife. After all, he’d vowed to stand by her in sickness and in health, until death.

  In some respects, he felt responsible. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his political career, he might have had more time to attend to her. He certainly would have been more aware of the danger she was in of becoming addicted.

  It was the drug suppliers and dealers he should expend his anger on. They were the ones who made it possible for vulnerable people like Allison to access the source of their addiction. He shook his head, still unable to believe she’d spent a million dollars on drugs.

  At his continued silence, her smile faded and she eyed him a little more warily. “I trust you slept well, David?”

  He nodded. “Thank you, I did. How about you?”

  She looked down at her plate, as if weighing the authenticity of his improved mood. A moment later, she replied. “Not too bad, thank you. I missed you.”

  Love swelled in his heart. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. “I missed you, too. And I’m sorry. You’re not well. I never should have yelled at you.”

  A smile wobbled on her lips, glistening with ripe red lipstick. “I don’t deserve you.”

  He sighed quietly and pressed a kiss upon the back of her hand. “Of course you do.” He set her hand down and then returned to his newspaper. Allison speared a piece of watermelon.

  David glanced at his watch and then eyed her over the top of his paper. “You haven’t seen Zara this morning, have you?”

  “No, should I have?”

  “It’s just that she didn’t come home last night. I checked in on her on my way up to bed and found a note saying she was meeting with Detective Black.”

  “Perhaps the “meeting” went longer than she planned?” Allison responded with a wink that made David frown. “She’s a big girl, darling and from what I saw of Detective Black, he’s rather appealing in that young, boy-next-door kind of way.” She leaned over and pressed a smooth palm against his cheek. “Personally, I like my men a little more mature.”

  David relaxed against her hand, enjoying the warm pressure against his skin. Breathing in the heady fragrance of her perfume, his body stirred and he was reminded that it had been more than a fortnight since he’d found relief between her thighs.

  As if sensing his need, Allison’s eyes widened knowingly and her lips turned up in a satisfied smile. Her hand slid down his cheek and stole into his lap. She squeezed his thickening cock through his suit pants. He gasped and let his legs fall open.

  “It feels like you missed me a whole lot more than you said,” she murmured, massaging his erection with her fingers. “It feels to me like you need me right here, right now, on top of the dining room table and to hell with the staff.”

  Excitement surged through him, heating his cheeks. Beyond words, he could only manage a nod.

  With a smug expression filling her gaze, he watched, anticipation building, while she strode to the door and turned the lock.

  Within moments, she was on her knees and reaching for his zipper. Her lips touched the slick head of his erection. His head fell back and he sighed in pleasure.

  * * *

  Allison worked the thick shaft of her husband’s cock in and out of her mouth and thought of Draco. The last time they’d fucked, he’d been rougher than usual, forcing her to her knees and gripping her hair in his fist while he’d plunged in and out of her mouth. With his other hand, he’d viciously squeezed her nipples. It felt like he was tearing them off her chest. She’d loved it and hated it—hated him. But it hadn’t stopped her from spreading her legs wide on the leather couch afterward and begging him to fuck her. He was happy to oblige and she’d come, bucking and screaming with relief. No one fucked her like Draco did.

  Replete, she’d smoked a handful of ice and passed out on the couch in Draco’s office. Hours later, she woke with his cock once again in her mouth. Afterward, he sent her home in a cab.

  Not that she could tell David about it. He’d never understand. He thought she was addicted to drugs. He had no idea that she was just as addicted to the man who supplied them and no rehab clinic could cure her of that.

  She hadn’t been with Draco for more than two weeks. Not since he’d gotten all nasty about the money. S
he thought about Zara who hadn’t come home and hoped Draco had snatched her before she met up with the cute detective. The sooner David paid Draco the money, the sooner she and Draco could pick up where they’d left off.

  And pick up again, they would. She had no doubt about that. Who the hell did Draco Jovanovic think he was? The president of an outlaw motorcycle gang. Big deal. He wouldn’t tell her when it was over. No, siree. That’s not the way it worked. She was the one who called the shots and no one moved on from Allison Dowton without her say so. No one.

  Cursing silently, she renewed her efforts on her husband’s cock. At least one of them would leave the house happy that morning. It had been years since David had made her come, despite his efforts to please her. She wouldn’t find relief until the Zara was taken, the debt repaid and Draco back between her legs, where he belonged.

  It couldn’t come soon enough.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Wednesday, January 31, 7:38 a.m.

  Lane dialed Zara’s number with fingers that weren’t quite steady. The night before, after contemplating the conversation with his mother, he’d wanted to call Zara, but it had been late and he hadn’t wanted to wake her. She had work in the morning, after all. Besides, he’d wanted to give her time to calm down a little and remember all the good things that had happened between them: The hours when they’d shared stories from their childhood, mostly funny, some sad. The camaraderie he’d felt, the connection. She’d felt it, too.

  He’d also, somewhat reluctantly, acknowledged he needed time to find the words to apologize—to somehow make her believe his earlier fears had been resolved. Well, maybe not entirely resolved, but enough that he was now willing to take a risk on them, on life, like she’d asked.

  Earlier, he’d called his boss at the station and asked for another day off. Michael readily agreed and then gave him an update on the case. He was disappointed to learn the taskforce hadn’t yet located Jovanovic. Not that it really mattered. They’d find him sooner or later. He couldn’t hide out forever.

  The phone rang out in his ear. He frowned. It was only a little after seven-thirty. She shouldn’t be at her office yet. And even if she were, surely she’d answer her cell phone?

  When he reached her voice mail, he drew in a deep breath and left a message. “Hi Zara, it’s Lane. I’m sorry. For everything. We need to talk. Please call me.”

  He ended the call and then cursed. Sorry for everything? What the hell was he thinking? What if she thought he meant everything—like, the hours they’d spent on the couch?

  Biting his lip, he groaned aloud. Short of calling her back and making a complete idiot of himself trying to explain that when he’d said everything, he hadn’t actually meant everything, he’d have to wait for her to call him. And hope like crazy that she did.

  * * *

  Zara heard the click of the lock opening and moments later, the door to Draco’s office swung inward. The man himself sauntered inside and she tensed in fear and anticipation of what might happen. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her the night before and she’d spent countless restless hours running through various scenarios of torture followed by escape plans, until she’d collapsed, exhausted from the effort.

  The pain in her face had eased, but her left eye was still swollen almost shut. Her body ached from the awkward way she’d been forced to lie on the couch. She struggled to sit upright and her bladder cramped painfully. She gasped aloud and prayed she wouldn’t disgrace herself. It was a humiliation she didn’t think she could bear.

  Draco moved closer, his smile slow and lazy. She quickly averted her eyes and hoped her fear didn’t show. Reaching out, he tilted her chin up and forced her to look at him. She bit down hard on a sob. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how terrified she was.

  His fingers moved from her chin to stroke the soft skin of her cheek. Emotion darkened his eyes. She held her breath.

  “I should have nabbed you in the first place. You’re much more to my taste.” His hand slid down her face, her neck and then his fingers opened to cup her breast. The warmth of his skin permeated the thin fabric of her dress. She steeled herself not to react and held his gaze with all the defiance she could muster.

  Draco chuckled and squeezed her soft flesh. “You’re a feisty, little thing, that’s for sure.” He squeezed harder, eliciting a gasp. “Just how I like them.”

  “Please.” The word was torn from her. She hated the desperation in her voice, but was powerless to stop it.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Surely a pretty thing like you has been touched before?”

  Zara lowered her gaze, pain and embarrassment burning across her cheeks. She hated him for making her feel guilty, like all of this was somehow her fault.

  To her relief, he stepped away and walked toward the desk. “There’ll be plenty of time for touching and a whole lot more before I’ve finished with you, but right now, I need to get my money.”

  He rounded the desk and searched through the small pile of papers that were scattered on its surface. A frown turned his features fierce.

  “Fuck! I forgot to get the number off Allison. He looked up at her. “Give me your father’s number.”

  Zara’s heart plummeted. It was just as she’d guessed. She’d been kidnapped because of her stepmother’s drug debt. No doubt her father was about to receive yet another ransom demand.

  “Why did you take Olivia Munro? She and her family have nothing to do with the money my stepmother owes you.”

  Draco’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I should have known you were more than a pretty face. I see the slut has been talking.” He shrugged dismissively. “I don’t give a fuck who she tells. She owes me a million bucks and I’m not letting you go until I get it. I’ve been led to believe your father will do anything for you. What do you think about that? Will daddy hand over a cool million without a squabble to get his little girl back?”

  Zara shook her head, aghast that her stepmother had caused all this grief. If it hadn’t been for Allison and her drug habit, neither she nor Olivia would have been taken. She eyed the biker with disgust. “How long have you known Allison?”

  A sly look glinted in his eyes and he almost smacked his lips. “Let’s just say, me and Allison are old friends. We know each other…very well.” He gave her a suggestive wink and then laughed loudly.

  Zara gasped in shock. Was he insinuating he and her stepmother were lovers? He couldn’t be. It was ludicrous to think that Allison would be consorting with an uncouth, unkempt, foul-mouthed, filthy biker—and yet, why else would he say such a thing? She shook her head. It was all too confusing. She must have misunderstood.

  “Don’t you believe me? Don’t you think that uppity piece of eastern suburbs ass would fuck a commoner like me?”

  She opened her mouth to refute his accusation, but he sneered at her and said, “Don’t try and deny it. I can tell from the look on your face that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “H-how did you meet my stepmother?”

  Draco strolled around the side of the desk and propped his hip against the solid wood. He looked at her, his leg swinging casually back and forth. Light bounced off the bald skin on his head. A little smile played around his mouth.

  “Allison and I met through some friends of hers. Her book club group, I believe. They meet once a month to discuss books,” he chuckled before adding, “at least, that’s what they tell their husbands.”

  Zara stared at him. Thoughts rushed madly through her head. “I-I don’t understand.”

  Draco gave a short laugh. “Don’t you just? Perhaps it’s time I gave you an education?”

  He stood and came toward her, his eyes darkening with menace and the unmistakable glint of desire. The sound of his booted tread across the concrete floor was obliterated by the sudden pounding of her heart. He reached out to her and she flinched against the sofa. Her actions were met with another chuckle.

  “You shouldn’t be so touchy, swee
theart. Your stepmother and her friends are certainly not so frigid. They queue up and beg me for it.”

  Shock and disbelief ricocheted through Zara’s head. Could he be telling the truth? It was preposterous! Utter madness! She couldn’t believe he was telling her anything but monstrous lies.

  “Carolyn and Trudy are the greediest. They take turns sucking my cock until I’m as dry as a sandpit. Allison was a bit more reluctant, but only at the start. Lucky for me, she liked a few other things I had to offer. Let’s just say we struck a mutually satisfying bargain.”

  Zara didn’t think her brain could cope with any more of his shocking revelations. If Draco was to be believed, her stepmother traded her body for drugs and she’d still racked up a million-dollar debt.

  Even so, Zara found herself defending the woman to the disgusting man in front of her. “Are you expecting me to believe my stepmother trades sex with you for drugs?”

  Draco’s bark of laughter reverberated off the walls. “Of course she does. It was a tidy little arrangement and we both felt more than satisfied. But lately, I’ve hardly been able to keep the shit up to her.” His expression darkened. “That’s the reason she stopped fucking me. I refused to give her any more gear. The way she was smoking those crystals…” He shook his head. “That shit’s worth a fortune.”

  He stepped away and moved to the far side of the room. Turning to face her, he leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a scowl turning down his lips.

  “While she was putting out, we got on just fine. I never told her she could have the shit for free, but let’s just say she got it at a reduced rate. But after awhile, she couldn’t get enough. It was like the more she had, the more she had to have. Ice is like that. Anyone will tell you. I got a bit worried about her. Fuck, I didn’t want her dying from an overdose in my fucking clubhouse. So, I told her she couldn’t have any more until she paid up.”