Electrified

by Rachel Blaufeld

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Carson knew with certainty that the woman he was falling in love with was the missing woman from Brooklyn he’d been chasing. Not wanting to spark fear in Sienna, or Lila, Carson didn’t give up what he figured out. Struggling to keep his breathing steady, he continued to kiss Sienna’s neck and played the whole thing off like the pillow talk it appeared to be.

  He reminded himself of his first priority: To keep her safe. He would figure out the ghastly reason why she ran, and then decide how to deceive his client. For the first time ever.

  “Lila, it’s a beautiful name,” he said. “Suits you, but so does Sienna. Your beauty runs so deep, I don’t think it matters what your name is or what anyone calls you. Everything anyone needs to know is in your smile, your eyes, the way you listen intently.”

  He pulled her up so they were eye to eye. Keeping her close, kissing the top of her head, he vowed to himself to protect her, even if it went against his work ethics.

  Carson made love to Sienna one more time, memorizing her body and how it felt when joined with his as one, before driving her to the Electric Tunnel. Since it was Sunday, she only danced once, so Carson stayed and watched.

  He couldn’t help but get the feeling that this was his last time watching her for a while, and he hated it. He didn’t know why he felt that way, other than he had a crazy work situation staring him in the face.

  Oh, and I’m in love with the very missing person I’m supposed to be handing over to whom I now consider the enemy.

  When Sienna was done for the night, Carson drove her back to her place, tucked her in, and waited until she fell asleep to leave. He went back to his hotel in order to pack and prepare for something he never had to do in his career so far. Lie to a client, break a contract, and admit to himself he got emotionally involved in a case.

  Carson denied himself staying at Sienna’s because he knew if he spent one more night, he would never leave. Then he’d never get closure on this fucking hell of a situation, and he just wanted it to be resolved, and done for good.

  So he could get back to Sienna and never fucking go anywhere else.

  Monday

  DEEP LONELINESS set in like a dark cloud when Sienna woke up in her bed without Carson. She knew he wasn’t going to be there, but still caught herself reaching for him.

  Reaching for and missing a man who as of a few weeks ago wasn’t even part of my life or plan?

  This wasn’t what she bargained for when she decided to let herself have a little fun. Funny that now thoughts and visions of love were consuming her, debilitating her thought process when it came to trying to simply survive.

  Shoving all thoughts of happily-ever-after to the back of her mind in favor of dirtier ideas, Sienna dragged herself from bed, made coffee, and was deep in thought when her doorbell rang. Immediately, the back of her neck tingled with nerves. She didn’t know if they were good or bad ones; no one ever rang her doorbell. Asher typically just walked in after keying in the code on the security keypad, and Petal and Sydney texted first.

  Could it be Carson? He usually knocks, but who knows?

  Despite knowing somewhere deep inside it wasn’t Carson, Sienna couldn’t help the little jolt of excitement flowing through her, so she cracked the door open without asking who was there.

  An arm reached out and pushed the door open the rest of the way, slamming Sienna into the entryway table. Her hip dug sharply into the corner of the table and she winced in pain. The unwelcome intruder kicked the door shut with his foot and started walking toward her.

  Stunned, it took her a moment to stand back up and take stock of what was happening. When Sienna finally righted herself and looked up, Sam Charles, minus his cowboy hat, was standing over her, holding a gun pointed at her forehead.

  How did he get back here to my carriage house without being spotted? This is why love is bad. I’ve been in love for all of forty-eight hours, and now I open the door without checking to a complete crazy person with a gun.

  “Come on, missy,” he said roughly. “I’ve wasted enough time chasing your ass around this town for my insane employers. I’m ready to get the hell out of here and you’re coming with me.”

  “W-what do you want with me?” she stammered. “Who are you?”

  “Sam Charles, adult movie producer extraordinaire in the flesh, and you are my very next star,” he said in the cockiest tone Sienna had ever heard.

  Anger slammed through her entire body, giving her courage. “No. Asher won’t let you leave this property with me. He’s probably calling the authorities and the bouncers as we speak.” She stood up and braced herself on the same side table she’d slammed into as the man moved with her, keeping the gun trained on her face.

  Sienna did her best to remain calm and appear as though she held on to some type of control. Although calm was absolutely the last emotion she felt as she was being held hostage by a fucking nut job who wanted to take her back to wherever he was from…to make porn.

  He shook his head. “Nope, sorry, honey. Been watching Asher, he got called away late last night to deal with a problem with that whore, Natalie. He’s busy with her and couldn’t care less about you right now. Not a soul knows I’m here, not even your detective boyfriend. What a dumb shit he was. Dropped you off all alone last night and jumped on an early flight back home, leaving you here totally alone.” He flashed her a shit-eating grin.

  Sienna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Who the hell did this guy think he was? She wasn’t going to star in his movies. How did he know so much about her life and everyone around her? Why did he even care?

  “Get out!” she yelled. “I’m going to start screaming louder. The neighbors behind me will hear and call the cops.” She inched backward.

  “Out of luck again. They’re out for the morning. It’s Monday. They work nice white-collar jobs unlike you, you little cunt bitch. Not everyone can sell their soul and pussy like you do.”

  Sienna’s mind raced as she desperately tried to come up with a plan. She didn’t run away from Elon just to let this jerk have his way with her.

  Where was her phone? Damn, it was still back in her bedroom. If she could just get to her phone, she could dial 911.

  With Sam still looming over her with the gun, Sienna couldn’t make a run for it, but he wasn’t going to shoot. He wanted her to come with him, so she had to pretend to do so.

  “Okay, I guess I have no choice. You win.” She stood up with her hands in the air. “I need a few tampons, though, it’s that time of the month. And pants, seeing as how I’m half-naked,” she said, trying to buy herself time. She waved her hand down toward the lower half of her very naked body. She was still wearing just a long T-shirt and underwear. He certainly couldn’t take her anywhere like that.

  Sam nudged her with the gun toward her room, and said, “Get pants. Make it quick and hurry the hell up with your woman stuff.”

  Sienna breathed a sigh of relief, stupidly thinking he wasn’t going to accompany her. No such luck. The asshole followed her back to her bedroom and stood in the doorway with the gun still trained on her head. Sienna took a pair of leggings out of the closet and slowly slipped them on, trying to distract him with her body. It wasn’t working.

  Finally, her eye caught her stainless sculpture for Vegas Adult Entertainer of the Year sitting on the shelf. She reached for it, intending to grab it and throw it at Sam’s head, but he grabbed her and stuck her with a syringe.

  Instantly, a burning numbness spread through Sienna’s body. As her legs gave out beneath her, she felt Sam grasp her underneath her arms and hold up her weight, grumbling, “I told that fucker, Elon, you weren’t worth it, but his family is so damn money hungry, they only wanted you in their movies. I hope they don’t get outed to their damn friends how they actually make their money, because they owe me a shit load of cash.”

  The last thing Sienna remembered hearing before passing out cold was, “They just had to have you. They couldn’t leave it alone, thou
ght they already owned you. Dumb, if you ask me.”

  CARSON THOUGHT about having a drink to settle his nerves when he nabbed a seat on an earlier flight out of Vegas. Since he made it a habit not to drink on early-morning flights, he abstained, especially with what he would have to deal with upon his arrival. He dreaded the upcoming meeting with his clients, who also happened to be the parents of the woman he had fallen in love with. It was time to confront them about their true intentions in looking for Lila. With absolute certainty, she was Lila to him now. He’d meant it when he said he didn’t care what she called herself and that she was beautiful inside and out. But the moment he was certain she was Lila, that was the name he heard in his mind when he thought of her. She should be free to be whoever she wants to be. Lila. Sienna. Mrs. Graham.

  The plane was mostly empty, since who wanted to leave Vegas first thing in the morning when they could have the whole day? Him, for one. Carson wanted to make this trip as short and sweet as possible, and get back to whatever was happening with Lila and him.

  He needed to figure out what exactly Lila had run away from, so he could devise the best strategy possible. One thing was certain, he couldn’t leave any loose ends where she was concerned. He wanted her to live free. With him.

  As the plane began its descent outside New York, he knew one thing for certain. All roads would lead back to that crazy husband, Elon, who’d basically appeared out of nowhere. Why didn’t her family tell him about the guy originally? His best guess was that either they were estranged from him, or he didn’t want the investigation.

  Something was very wrong, and it was time for Carson to use his brain and not his dick. He had to think, plan, and implement. Period.

  Elon. Even the asshole’s name made him shudder. The bastard seemed to have slid out of the picture after Lila ran away. Was it because he didn’t want them to know the hand he’d played in her leaving? What hand was that, exactly?

  No matter how he dissected the situation, Carson knew it wasn’t a good one. Lila’s parents obviously didn’t know why she ran from her life, namely Elon, or they wouldn’t need him.

  He knew whatever it was, it was bad, and Lila wanted to save her family from that, or did they not listen to her? How could a mom and dad do that to their own daughter? It had to be Lila protecting them. She was that type of person, always protecting those around her. He’d seen her do it enough with Asher and Petal in the short time he’d known her.

  It was still so strange how her parents were always talking about making things right with their in-laws, not concentrating on reuniting with their warm and sensitive daughter. Shouldn’t Lila being gone for close to seven years be their focus?

  His mind flicked to Lila’s scar, the long and skinny abrasion along her hip bone. It melted into her skin and was often disguised under her glittery lotion. They never talked about it. In fact, when he touched it, Lila often moved him, changed the course of their action, deflecting him away from it. He shouldn’t have been so consumed with his feelings for her not to take notice and inquire about it. Damn him.

  Switching his thoughts back to Elon, who he had started to think of as the bastard, Carson figured the ass had probably been playing the role of bereft husband or a lover scorned for the last seven years. No doubt, he was anything but that. Fuck, Carson needed to get himself in check or he was going to rip the guy to shreds. He couldn’t afford to let on he knew where Lila was when he got in front of Elon, or namely, that he had caught on to who the jerk actually was.

  Carson needed to remain even-keeled, pragmatic, and capable, but let Lila’s parents know he was unable to finish the case. Not enough information? Not the right match? He was going to learn what he needed, get the family and the husband off the hunt for Lila, wipe his hands of them all, and then save the woman he wanted for himself.

  Unethical, maybe? He didn’t care.

  Returning a woman to a violent husband was even more unethical, so his current plan trumped that idea.

  Carson had a feeling that Elon, the religious freak, was the worst kind of violent husband, one who hid behind the cloth. Damn it, his blood pumped just thinking about it.

  The second the plane touched down, Carson was out of his first-class seat, rushing the door to get out while turning on his phone. As soon as the thing powered up, it started to vibrate with messages. What the fuck?

  Asher? Strange…why would he call me now?

  Carson pressed the LISTEN TO MESSAGE button immediately as the plane’s door finally opened and he made his way up the Jetway. When he heard the agony in Asher’s roar, his stomach dropped out from under him.

  Carson, dude. I’m sick to leave a message about this but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t even know if I should trust you to tell you this, but fuck, if you’re at all involved, know this. We’re on to you, and if not, you got to know. Sienna is missing. MISSING! I spent the night at Natalie’s after you and I talked at the bar. I thought you were at Sienna’s so it would be okay, but this morning when I got back home, Sienna’s door was ajar and a few things were broken in her place. Doesn’t feel right to me. Jesus, my Sienna is GONE!

  Staring at this phone, trying to collect his thoughts and contain his emotions, Carson saw a number of texts from Asher and Mike, basically relaying the same information as the voice message from Asher.

  Once inside the concourse, the big, bad PI stood back and pressed his weight into a wall, attempting to cage and contain himself from throwing a full-on rage in the middle of a very public place.

  Carson ran his hand through his short hair, the same hair Lila had run her fingers through the day before. He tried to make sense of the whole fucking mess while trying not to be consumed by waves of loss. His entire being felt empty and cold.

  Sam Charles. It had to be him. Carson had misread who he actually was, and the serious ramifications of his underestimating him was hitting home like a ton of bricks. Carson just knew that fuckface had his gorgeous and innocent Lila, and was doing God only knew what with her.

  Needing to vent, he turned and slammed the toe of his boot against the wall, which earned him a few concerned glances from passersby, but he ignored them. He was going to murder the asshole with his own two hands.

  Carson needed to regroup. He no longer needed to rush back to Lila and make her safe. Because Lila wasn’t safe, and she wasn’t there.

  Now more than ever, he needed to rid himself of the case and fast, so he could find Lila before the worst happened. He stalked toward to the rental car desk like a madman with zero regard for anyone who dared cross his path.

  Little did he know that while he was flying in first class, the woman he never thought he wanted or deserved was probably being kidnapped by someone he had dismissed as being irrelevant.

  And it was all his fault.

  CARSON’S NEED to find Lila was as basic as taking his next breath. Obviously, he had to call in more favors from Ray in order to get his hands on some quick information. Time was of the essence, and he had to operate on all cylinders.

  With a few keystrokes on his phone, he had his old FBI buddy pulling flight records, pictures from toll booth cameras, and everything there was to know about Sam Charles, right down to his tax forms and birthmarks on his body.

  Jumping into a rental car he had waiting for him, Carson drove straight to Brooklyn to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with Lila’s family, and then he was going to hunt down Elon while he waited for the information on Charles.

  As for his mood, he was trying to steel himself against reality. Gripping the steering wheel as if it were the bastard’s neck, he imagined choking the life out of Elon.

  Was there the possibility Lila had left of her own volition? The damage in her house certainly didn’t suggest her leaving on her own. Which meant she could be hurt, dead, or being tortured at that very moment. Carson’s mind was running wild with horrible thoughts, and he knew if he was to be effective in finding her, he had to stop those thoughts and make better use of his energy.<
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  He pulled himself together, using focusing techniques he’d learned in the academy and during training. If he allowed himself to get overly emotional, he would make things worse, possibly screwing up the entire situation. He took long, overly deep breaths, dragging the oxygen in, then forcing the carbon dioxide out, eventually controlling his ability to take air in and out of his lungs.

  Christ, where was Lila? Now it was even more imperative to question the family for more information, and get a read on the asshole husband who’d showed up out of the blue.

  As he sped toward Brooklyn, cursing as he had to fight rush-hour traffic, his mind was running through every possible scenario. Maybe Sam Charles actually was a PI who was also looking for Lila, but sent by whom? Was Sam Charles wanting to cast who he knew as Sienna in his porn films just a coincidence to the abduction? Perhaps Carson was being played, and the family hired an investigator to keep an eye on him, that investigator being Sam Charles, leading them and Elon right to Lila.

  Whatever the case, he was certain it wasn’t some strange cosmic coincidence, and Sam Fucking Charles definitely had a role in Lila’s disappearance. Just how and why, he didn’t know.

  Carson was playing out in his mind how he was going to torture the information out of Sam Charles when he pulled up to his first destination. The small Brooklyn brownstone where Lila, his Lila, had grown up sat directly in front of him. Although he’d been there before, it now held a brand new significance.

  Taking a deep breath, Carson got out of the car and walked confidently to the front door, then rang the bell. It was past dinnertime, so he assumed they would be home. He needed the family now more than ever to give him potential clues as to where Lila might be, and he wasn’t sure whether he could expect them to cooperate. There was no fucking way he was going to allow them to railroad him as they, or Elon, had been doing thus far. Whoever was pulling the puppet strings was finished. He was going to make sure of that.