Bad Boy of Wall Street: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  "April," Chad echoed, almost like he was tasting how my name sounded in his mouth. "Has anyone ever told you that you've got a great ass, April?"

  Oh wow. Apparently, despite all his money, Chad had absolutely zero charm.

  "You know, my boyfriend has mentioned that on many occasions, yes," I ad-libbed. "He's very fond of it - very protective, you might say."

  "Was that him downstairs?"

  Yeah, right. Teddy was the opposite of my type. "No, that wasn't him," I answered. "He's, um, out of town. In the Hamptons."

  Crap, maybe I shouldn't have said that, either. Didn't Chad know that Rob was up there? What if he caught on?

  Chad, however, just chuckled behind me. "Well, they do say that anything that happens while someone's out of town doesn't really count," he purred, moving in closer behind me as I reached the top of the stairs.

  Surely, five minutes had elapsed by now, hadn't it? If I told Chad that I wasn't interested in him, he wouldn't catch Teddy still breaking into his computer?

  "I think it counts," I said, turning around - but this just put me face to face with Chad, and his arms were already reaching out to me. I tried to move back, but I bumped against a wall, and those hands settled down on my hips.

  An instant later, however, they slid further down and around me, grabbing two handfuls of my ass!

  Immediately, my hand flew up and slapped Chad across my face. "Oh my god, you ass!" I yelled at him. "What, you think you can cop a feel just because you've got money?"

  "Just go with it," the man insisted, and unbelievably, his hands reached out for me again!

  This time, I did think about my next move - and still did it. As he tried to pull me forward, I brought one knee up, squarely between his legs.

  For a moment, I got a very satisfying sight of Chad's face as he went cross-eyed with pain, sagging down and dropping to his knees.

  Hah. That would teach him for reaching out and trying to grope me!

  "Pervert!" I shouted down at him, shoving him backwards. Fortunately, I at least had the presence of mind to not shove him down the stairs, and instead pushed him back onto his side on the landing. Chad just grunted, his eyes still squeezed shut and both of his hands clutching at his injured crotch.

  "Bitch," he groaned, the word coming out from between gritted teeth.

  "Ass," I fired back down at him.

  I waffled for one more second, looking down at the groaning man laying on the floor and clutching various bits of his anatomy. Should I go downstairs? Stay up here? Kick him again?

  A minute later, Chad made that decision much easier when he reached out for me, trying to grab my ankle. Kick him again! shouted a voice inside my head that, for just a moment, sounded as if it had come from Rob himself.

  I obeyed the voice, and then bolted back down the stairs as Chad rolled onto his back with a fresh groan of pain. Please, please let Teddy have finished up with copying the computer's files by now, I prayed to any deity who would take my message.

  I burst downstairs into the coffee shop with a bang of the door opening, attracting plenty of attention. Ignoring the curious and bemused stares, I dashed across the shop's floor, over to where Teddy still sat by Chad's computer, looking up at me with an expression of appalled confusion.

  "What the hell is going on?" He asked, wide-eyed.

  Looking down at the laptop computer open on the table in front of him, I saw that he'd removed the flash drive from the computer. Maybe someone upstairs in Heaven had been listening and heard my prayer after all. "We got to get out of here," I answered, reaching down and grabbing his arm. "Chad just totally hit on me."

  "Duh. I could've told you that he was going to do that." I really didn't need sarcasm from my companion right now, but hearing him respond just as I'd expected was somehow rather comforting. "So what did you do?"

  "I kneed him in the balls."

  For possibly the second time since I'd met him, a smile danced briefly across Teddy's face. "I suppose that we ought to get out of here, shouldn't we?"

  "It took you that long to realize?" I retorted. "And here I was, thinking that you were the super-smart investigative reporter!"

  Teddy rolled his eyes as he jumped to his feet. There he was, back to normal. "Lead the way, Miss Karate Master."

  From behind me, I heard a shout, the voice filled with mingled anger and pain. "There! That bitch just assaulted me!"

  I saw the other patrons start to turn, their faces shifting to surprise as they took in the sight of Chad Cartmann limping down from upstairs, one hand still grasping the tender area that had just recently been tenderized by my knee, his other hand pointing out at us - at me - in accusation. "Stop her!" he shouted again.

  A few patrons started to slowly rise up from their chairs, not sure whether to believe this groaning, limping man. "He groped me!" I yelled back.

  "Time to move," Teddy grunted to me, but my feet had already come to the same conclusion on their own.

  We sprinted out of the coffee shop and over to our car, which Teddy immediately started up and pulled away from the curb. I glanced in the side mirror, expecting to see a mob of citizens spurred into a crusade for justice chasing after us, but there wasn't anyone there. Right. This was New York, after all, where people only showed up to a fight so that they could bet on the outcome.

  Teddy gunned the car down several streets, taking the maze of little one-way streets much faster than I ever would have attempted. "Did you get the files copied off of the computer?" I asked, once I'd clawed at my seat belt and snapped it into place. Maybe now, when we eventually hit another car, I'd live through the resulting wreck.

  Keeping his eyes on the road, Teddy reached into a pocket and withdrew the same flash drive he'd showed me earlier, holding it up like a key. "All of it's on here," he promised. "I just ejected the thing as you came back down the stairs."

  Good. I took the flash drive from Teddy's fingers, turning it over in my own hands. This could hold the answers that would prove Rob's innocence, could put a powerful, wealthy trader behind bars, and could give me the scoop of a lifetime, the kind of story that would totally turn my situation around.

  This could be the key to everything.

  I grabbed for my cell phone as Teddy took another corner on two wheels. I wasn't sure where he was heading, but I trusted him to have some secure destination in mind. I snapped a picture of the flash drive and texted it to Rob. "We got it!!" I added, barely managing to resist the urge to throw a few smiley emoticons onto the end of the message.

  Rob didn't text back - but a minute later, my cell phone started to ring. Rob was calling me.

  Teddy frowned, looking over at me, but I quickly gestured at him to keep his eyes on the road. If he looked away for even a second, I just knew we'd crash. "Hey Rob, we did it!" I exclaimed into the phone as I answered, all but bouncing up and down in my seat. "We can prove that Cartmann was the one who set up the whole thing!"

  But the voice that replied to me definitely didn't belong to Rob Hendricks.

  "Good job, bitch," the voice said, a deep bass that pierced me like an icicle. "And now, if you want to see your boyfriend ever again, you're going to bring it to me."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  *

  I froze in the passenger seat as Teddy continued to drive, oblivious to the shock of fear now running down my spine. "Who is this?" I asked into the phone, although I already recognized the voice at the other end.

  After all, I'd heard it before - but the last time I heard this voice, it had been swearing at me, the words laced with pain, as he charged after Rob and me in Chad Cartmann's Hamptons mansion.

  The voice just chuckled back at me. "Just call me Hook," it replied. "But you're not asking the right questions."

  "What should I be asking?" My hand had flailed frantically at Teddy's arm, and he now finally noticed that most of the blood had drained out of my face. He pulled over, frowning at me as he tried to figure out what was going on.

  "Rig
ht now, you should be asking how quickly you can get back up to your boyfriend's house - and how you're going to not tell anyone anything about this conversation," Hook answered. "See, I've done this plenty of times. I know all the thoughts that always go through your head at a time like this. You want to call the police, the authorities, or at least tell a friend who might be able to help."

  Hook paused, chuckling. "I suspect that I don't need to tell you what will happen to Rob, here, if you decide to tell anyone."

  My blood ran cold as dozens of terrifying possibilities swam across my imagination. "Got it, you're right," I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. After all, not telling anyone about this meant that I also had to keep my mouth shut to Teddy, who was now definitely listening in on the conversation.

  "Listen, can I call you back in just a minute?" I asked Hook shakily. "I just need to get to somewhere that I can talk privately."

  "Nope. See, that would let you call the shots. And that's not happening. All you need to do is listen, and then follow my commands exactly, and you won't have to worry about anything going wrong," Hook countered. "Heck, you might even get to see your boyfriend here again, and he can give you a hug with all ten fingers. Wouldn't that be nice?"

  I fought down a sob at the thought of this man callously lopping off some of Rob's fingers. "Okay. Just tell me what to do."

  "Easy," Hook said. "See, your boyfriend here spilled all the beans already. He told me about how that flash drive holds the key to getting at all the money that Cartmann stole. Or he says that Cartmann stole it, anyway. Personally, I don't give a single fuck about who took the money, as long as it gets back to me."

  I wanted to ask questions - stolen money? What about the insider trading? - but I bit my tongue to keep from speaking out. Hook sounded relaxed, but my previous encounter with the man suggested that he likely wouldn't hesitate to hurt Rob if he wanted to get my attention, or maybe even just out of boredom.

  "So you get up here before dark, up to this shitty little cottage," Hook continued. "You come up here alone, don't tell anyone that you're coming here, or why. You bring that flash drive, and then you'll sit tight here and wait as your boyfriend uses whatever programs or shit are on the drive to get me my money back."

  "And then?" I asked after a moment of silence.

  He sniggered. "And then, I'll let you go," he answered.

  We both knew that it was a lie. But even still, I didn't see any other option. I couldn't let Rob get killed by this psychopath.

  "Okay," I said into the phone.

  "Good." And with a click, Hook hung up.

  Looking out of the windshield for the first time in several minutes, I spotted my Miata. Teddy must have gone in a big loop, aiming to lose anyone who might be tracking or pursuing us, and had then doubled back so that I could retrieve my car. He'd pulled into a parking spot a half block away, and now looked over at me with the usual frown on his face.

  "What's going on?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I lied, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Rob's just excited to get his hands on the flash drive so that he can prove his innocence, that's all."

  "Uh huh." Teddy's tone made it clear that he didn't believe me. "So you're just taking off, going back up to the Hamptons? You want me to drive you?"

  I was so jarred from my phone conversation with Hook that I didn't even consider the kindness of this unexpected offer. "No, that's okay - I can handle it myself," I answered, reaching for the door handle.

  Before I could open the door, however, Teddy hit the door lock button on his side. "Okay, April, talk to me," he said, sounding gentler than I'd heard before. "Something's wrong. Let me help."

  I really, really wanted him to help. I suspected that Teddy would know what to do in this situation, that he'd have a better idea than me. But as much as I didn't want to be alone in this, I couldn't bear to think of putting Rob in more danger by disobeying his captor's commands. So I fought against my urge to tell Teddy what was wrong, pressing my lips shut and just shaking my head.

  "Nothing," I said, trying the door handle again. Still locked. "But look, I really appreciate all your help with this. I'll make sure to credit you in the story, put you as a co-author." It would cut into the income that the story brought me, but I couldn't stop to think about money right now. I just needed to convince Teddy to let me go, so I could go and save Rob.

  Teddy, however, just shook his head. "Just thank me in the body - no need to share the payout," he replied. "Besides, you're the one who's clearly doing all the work for this. I just lent a hand at the right time, that's all."

  "Well, thank you." That was actually really touching of the man. I wished that I knew him better, that I'd popped over into his cubicle next to mine more often to say hello. I'd have to do that later, after this whole thing was resolved.

  Assuming that I was still alive and able to go into work, that is.

  Finally, after another long pause, Teddy sighed and hit the door unlock button. I quickly pulled the door open before he could change his mind again. "Thanks - I promise that I'll explain everything soon!" I told him as I climbed out, stowing the flash drive carefully at the bottom of my purse. In my head, I prayed that I would, indeed, get to see Teddy again so that I could tell him everything.

  He pointed out through the open door at me. "I'm holding you to that promise, Carpenter," he said, and then grinned. "By the way, it's totally unprofessional, but nice job kicking that asshole in the balls. I can't think of anyone who deserved it more."

  Despite all the worry in my head, that still put a smile on my face, too. "No problem. Any time you need someone kicked in the balls, I'm your girl."

  Teddy chuckled again. "Be safe, Carpenter," he said, and then pulled away from the curb as I closed the Caddy's door after getting out.

  I watched for a minute as he drove away, and then hurried over to my own car. I unlocked the door and climbed in, starting it up and immediately pulling away from the curb. Back up to the Hamptons, I told myself. I could think about a plan as I drove up there, try and work out a way to save Rob - and get out of the whole mess without anyone losing fingers, or worse.

  Unfortunately, two and a half hours flew by, and no plans appeared in my mind. I tried my hardest to think of some strategy, but my list of ideas was still empty as I pulled off of the highway and slowed down to the smaller streets. All of my ideas required either specialized tools that I didn't have, skills that I didn't possess, or in a few cases, an act of God - which didn't seem likely to materialize.

  Idea #1: call the police and get the authorities to help me. This would likely lead to Rob getting hurt or killed - and besides, they wouldn't exactly be jumping to respond to help someone who they believed was a criminal, guilty of insider trading.

  Idea #2: get a weapon and rescue Rob myself. Unfortunately, I not only didn't know where to get my hands on a gun or other weapon, but I doubted that I'd be able to hold my own in a fight against Hook. I'd only managed to triumph against him last time we crossed paths through a combination of ambushing him, and sheer dumb luck.

  Idea #3: get a sniper to shoot Hook before he even knew what was coming. Of course, I didn't know any snipers or where to get a sniper rifle, so that put a crimp in those plans.

  Idea #4: show up and meet Hook, but tell him that I'd given the flash drive to someone else, and we'd need to go get it. In the best case scenario, I hoped that Hook might then leave to retrieve the drive, which would give Rob and me a chance to escape. More realistically, however, I figured that the man would tie us up well enough to keep us from escaping - or he'd just torture me until I made the other person bring the flash drive to us.

  I had half a dozen other ideas, but most of them involved somehow getting in contact with a SWAT team, renting a helicopter, God giving Hook a stroke or aneurysm, and learning how to fly a helicopter. None of these things seemed feasible given a week, much less given a couple of hours.

  So as I pulled into the street
where Diana's cottage stood, I found myself without a plan, and devoting all of my mental energy to fighting against the rising tide of panic. Just stay calm, April, I told myself, without much effect. You'll be able to handle this.

  I thought about maybe turning around and driving off to somewhere else, to try and buy myself more time. But what if Hook had already spotted my car turning in? Surely, he'd be keeping a watch out for me. If I turned around now, or kept driving past the house without stopping, he might suspect that I was plotting something. What if he started chopping off fingers, just to get me to come back?

  I couldn't bear to risk it, couldn't bear to even think about the possibility. I turned my car into the driveway and let the engine die. I reached over and picked up my purse from the seat next to me, put both of my hands on the steering wheel, and gripped it tightly as I tried to take deep, calming breaths.

  Just breathe. Go in, keep your head, and try to find a way out of this mess.

  This is the sort of thing that investigative journalists might have to handle. You've got this.

  Please, please don't let either of us end up dead, I prayed desperately as I climbed out of the car and headed up to the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  *

  I knocked on the door of Rob's house, feeling both nearly paralyzed with fear, and a little silly about just walking up to the front door and knocking, like I was some sort of door to door salesperson.

  "Hello?" I called out.

  "Come in," came the response from inside. Hook's voice. It was even more chilling in person.

  I tried to keep from hyperventilating as I grabbed the door handle. Sure enough, the front door was unlocked, and I stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind me.

  Hook had pulled all the shades down on the windows, so it took my eyes a moment to adjust. After a couple of blinks, however, I saw the two men sitting in the living room, in view of the front door.

  Rob sat in one of the chairs from the kitchen, dragged into the middle of the room, looking curiously stiff and straight. It took me a minute to realize that he'd been duct taped, quite thoroughly, to the chair. His ankles were bound to the legs of the chair, his wrists bound to the arms, and a thick band of duct tape also looped around his chest, securing him to the back of the chair. He was awake, at least, his eyes wide as they focused on me.