by EM Gayle
The car slowed and he looked up to see they’d reached a crossroad. “Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”
Gerard took a sharp left and shot the car to full speed in an instant.
“Why left and not right? You don’t think they took her to the airport?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Too much red tape and too many variables to deal with there. They’d either be going to a private airfield, a residence or other private building in which case we’d be screwed. Or they could be headed for the docks or the closest helipad.”
“Helipad.” Alex tightened his grip on his phone, opened the keypad and pressed the code for his pilot.
“Already on the way, sir. Both the jet and the copter have been mobilized and we are ready to go with either.”
Gerard’s ability to anticipate resources in a crisis astounded him. “Is there anything you’re not prepared for?”
Gerard winced. “Not usually, sir. However, I did not see this coming. My team had eyes on Ms. Allison at all times in your absence, so I don’t know how this happened.”
Any anger he might have directed at Gerard dissipated. His head of security took his job and responsibilities seriously. For someone to get the jump on him…
“Ronin.” He finally voiced his thoughts out loud.
Gerard’s head swung sharply. “You think he has something to do with this?”
Thankfully Gerard had enough sense not to refer to the bastard as his brother, or stepbrother or family. Not while his blood boiled with the idea that Ronin had taken Harper from him. Before this their family ties were tenuous at best. If his gut turned out to be right—he could barely contemplate.
“I think it’s the only thing that makes sense. I have no other suspects.”
“Ronin Kavanaugh is a child,” Gerard spat, his disgust more than evident.
He nodded. “I don’t disagree that he’s still young and stupid. But he’s also volatile, unpredictable and a certified genius. The little fucker could do some serious damage if he ever put his mind to it.”
“And why would he want to take Ms. Allison? To hurt you? Is he even aware of your relationship with her? Harper seems quite reserved. She doesn’t fit the profile of a woman grasping for the golden ring. I’ve seen no evidence that she has publicized her time with you. She doesn’t even have an Instagram account.”
He wanted to smile, he really did. Harper had that effect on him. But as the time passed, she seemed farther away than ever and catching up with her captors seemed more than unlikely.
Alex sighed. “This traffic is taking too much time. We aren’t going to find them like this.”
“Likely not. But we already have people hunting every possible avenue. They will turn up something and we need to be ready to act on it.”
Of course, Gerard was right, but that didn’t give him more patience over this nightmare. Quite the opposite. He was going to crawl out of his skin if they didn’t find something soon.
As Gerard struggled through the clogged streets of the city, Alex searched his memory for random puzzle pieces that might provide evidence that Ronin had taken her. There had been no direct communication between him and his brother for quite some time. His latest bullshit mess had come down in the form of interference that had created a business emergency for Alex to deal with.
But that had come about more than a week ago. If he’d created that as a diversionary tactic, why would Ronin wait until his return to the city before acting? He could have snatched her with a lot less trouble from her own apartment or her work.
While he’d provided security in both places, Gerard had warned him it couldn’t compare to his own set up in the penthouse. However, at the time he’d been unwilling to push Harper into staying. Why?
His brain rebelled against the question. He damn well knew the answer so asking the question was a waste of precious time. Because he’d freaked out when she’d mentioned love, that’s fucking why.
He wanted their relationship. So much so, he hated it when she left his apartment. If he thought he could have gotten away with it, he’d have locked her in until his return. She belonged to him. Whether he could assign emotional attachment to it or not, he wasn’t sure.
Bullshit.
With that last thought still resonating through his mind, Gerard slammed on the brakes and brought Alex’s full attention back to the task at hand. They’d arrived at the heliport, but it was apparent Harper wasn’t here. No helicopters were waiting to take off on any of the pads.
He climbed from the car and reached for his phone, the screen still blank. It didn’t appear their hackers were having any more luck than they were.
“I’m going in to check on any recent flight plans,” Gerard said. “Maybe I can find something or maybe Charlie has some new info.”
Despite his head of security’s severe demeanor and efficient ways, he could tell that the man had about as much faith as he did that they were going to find her anywhere nearby. Whoever had taken her definitely knew what the fuck they were doing and the time it had taken them to respond gave them more than enough time to get away.
And Charlie was equally efficient as Gerard. If he had something to report it would already be reported. Instead, Alex dialed a number on his phone that he wished he could forget forever. Better yet, his life would be a thousand times better if it had never entered his life.
He stepped onto the dock and walked some distance away from the heliport for privacy. The phone on the other end rang four times before it was picked up by voicemail. His blood boiled as he pictured the smug bastard on the other end ignoring his fucking call.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket without leaving a message and headed to the other end of the waterfront. There was only one person he could think of who could have informed Ronin of Harper’s existence in his life and that bastard had better have some answers.
As he made his way past several buildings blocking his view a dangerous level of anger brewed inside him. He’d never thought he had a taste for violence, but today he craved it. He wanted to choke the man responsible with his bare hands. The sense of it so primal he knew he wouldn’t stop. For Harper, he would kill.
And for the first time in his life he caught a glimmer of what Ronin must feel all the time. That unquenchable thirst for violence that could only be sated one way.
When Alex rounded the corner, he froze. At the end of the pier where he expected to see an overdone, over the top yacht, sat nothing. He stared at the water beyond disbelieving. Victor Sokolov had announced plans to be in New York City for at least two more weeks before taking off for his next adventure. The latest interview had been online that very morning. Only hours ago.
Since then something had changed.
Alex closed his eyes and saw Victor grab his arm on the way out of the party with Harper. He’d asked about her specifically. He’d fucking remembered her.
Had he notified Ronin and that’s why he left New York early? That would be a pussy move even for the Russian douche. They were in the midst of several lucrative deals that still needed some negotiation.
“I have some information, sir.”
Alex flinched. It didn’t surprise him that he’d not heard Gerard approach. That was one of many skills he was hired for.
“A helicopter did take off about twenty-five minutes ago. No information on where it was headed, but it was—”
“Let me guess. Viktor Sokolov.”
“Yes, sir,” Gerard confirmed. “While he was not on board, the helicopter was one of Mr. Sokolov’s. The attendants apparently know it well.”
Of course they did. Sokolov had enough room on that blasted boat of his for more than one and he never traveled light. He also refused to sit in traffic. Every meeting with him had to be in a building with a helipad. Fucker rode around the city in that thing like a fucking chariot.
Now he was gone and all evidence pointed to Viktor being involved in Harper’s kidnapping. He may not have taken her, but he
sure as fuck facilitated it. For all he knew she was currently being whisked to some location where Ronin waited for her.
Either way, this was his fault. He’d deal with Viktor and Ronin as quickly as possible, but there was no one to blame but himself.
He’d made one mistake. ONE. His first in many years. And now Harper would pay the price…
Chapter 3
Harper
* * *
I glanced at the clock and twisted the simple gold band around on my finger. Bill said he couldn’t afford a big diamond just yet and he’d refused to buy me what he called a chip of a stone. He said he wanted to wait until he could get the ring I deserved. So, for now I wore just a simple gold band on my ring finger as a proclamation that I was now a married woman.
My gut flipped. I still wasn’t used to the idea yet. Even though Bill had moved me into his apartment not far from the center of town and only a mile from the high school, it had felt weird when he said this was “our” home.
As I looked around the room while watching the clock, I didn’t see a whole lot of “our” about it. It was tiny with just one bedroom and one cramped bathroom taking up half the space, the kitchenette and living room the other. It wasn’t actually much larger than the motel room Bill and I had stayed in on our wedding night.
Not that I cared about the size of the place. The important part was that we would be together.
I looked up at the clock again. He was over seven hours late and I was losing hope fast. He’d gone out of town on church business again and after many delays, he’d sworn he’d be home tonight.
I’d been surprised to learn of his extreme devotion to his church. Not once in all the time we were together had he mentioned it. Seemed odd, but I’d been so excited to be married and finally on my own, I’d dismissed it.
These days however, were a different story. I spent more time alone than with Bill and I had too much time to think and wonder. I was getting antsy and restless.
As the clock struck twelve, I gave up. He wasn’t coming home again. I double checked all the doors and windows were locked and then turned off all the lights, leaving only the porch light on. Just in case.
Somehow, I thought living with Bill would change everything. And I guess it did a little. But more and more I felt that same loneliness I could never escape, creeping back in. I dressed quickly in my pajamas and slid into ‘our’ bed and laid there staring at the ceiling. Self-doubt had become a real thing lately and it was beginning to affect my sleep. I also felt guilty for feeling resentful that he went on a lot of mission trips. Helping others less fortunate was a vital duty and I had no right to complain.
Although why I couldn’t go along with him made no sense to me.
As I laid there contemplating the pros and cons of accompanying him on these trips, I must have fallen asleep because I felt someone shaking me.
“Wake up!” he demanded, his voice gruffer than usual.
“Leave me alone,” I whined, not at all eager to open my eyes. I was too tired. I just wanted to sleep more.
“You need to get up now. The boss wants to see you.”
What?
My eyes snapped open.
Fear shot through me when my gaze landed on the stranger leaning over me in my bed.
Wait.
I turned left and right, searching for details, but they were all foreign. This wasn’t my room. That lamp wasn’t mine. Nor was that chair in the corner. Or that couch near the windows. Those curtains weren’t familiar either.
“What’s going on?” I scrambled across the bed and slammed my back against the nearby wall. While this bedroom was easily double the size of my own, it still had only one exit and the hulking stranger next to the bed stood between me and it. “Where am I?”
“That’s not important. You need to come with me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you answer my questions.”
The response I got wasn’t a good sign. He slowly slid his suit jacket to the side and revealed the gun holstered at his side. Its appearance was enough to jolt my memory. It was the same one I’d seen in the car. Outside Alex’s building.
Alex.
Jesus. I scrubbed my face with my hands and forced back the threatening flood of tears. I must have been dreaming.
I recognized the man standing in front of me now. He’d been one of the FBI agents who confronted me, the one to show me his badge. Only he wasn’t—
“You aren’t with the FBI, are you?”
“The boss is waiting. I don’t want to hurt you, but we need to go now.”
I wanted to stop and weigh my choices, figure out a plan. But there wasn’t enough time. I didn’t want to test what my captor would do with his gun if I pushed right now.
“Where are we?” I asked, stalling anyway.
He didn’t respond. He simply stood there waiting for my compliance.
Fine. If I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this dude, I needed to see Bill. But first, “Fine. But you can tell Bill he can wait long enough for me to have a bathroom break, right?” My stomach was churning and I kind of felt like throwing up.
The big talker nodded. Guessing that was the only indication I would get, I turned toward the door next to the closet. Opening it I was surprised to find a vast space covered in what looked like expensive marble and gold fixtures.
What the hell?
I couldn’t dwell on the space for long because my stomach roiled violently enough I had to make a run for the toilet. I dropped to my knees and lost all contents from my stomach and then some. Heave after heave until I was wrung dry. When I collapsed against the cool tile I wanted to cry. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was some kind of a miracle I wasn’t already.
Why did this have to happen? I never wanted to face my fake husband ever again. Not without a piece of bulletproof glass between us. He should have been in jail. He’d kidnapped a child. Been arrested for multiple counts of polygamy. Clearly, the local justice system was as corrupt as he was if they let him go.
I dragged myself to my feet and quickly washed up. I’d barely finished rinsing my mouth when the big dude appeared in the doorway.
“We go now,” he said.
His odd sounding vernacular gave me a strange vibe. He didn’t sound exactly dumb. No, more like a hint of an accent. It was hard to tell when he kept his words to a bare minimum and/or just grunted.
“Do we have to?” I asked, pressing my hand to my stomach again. “I’m really not feeling well.”
“Yes.”
I sighed. Again with the monosyllable one-word answers. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and saw about what I expected. Pale, ghostly white skin, blood shot eyes, smeared makeup and a rat’s nest for hair.
Bill should be thrilled we aren’t together anymore. I looked like shit.
“Give me one more second.” I splashed some water on my face and hair, grabbed a tissue and cleaned around my eyes. I shouldn’t care about my appearance and actually I didn’t. Not because of that asshole anyway. I couldn’t shake the—
My gaze shot to my captor in the mirror.
“You fucking drugged me. That’s why I feel like this and can barely figure out what happened.”
He lifted his shoulders in an I-don’t-care shrug and I wanted to dive for his face. The urge to claw his eyes out grew stronger than before. Only I had no idea where we were or how or if I could get out. And there was the matter of the gun he kept flashing—on purpose most likely.
Dick.
Right now my head felt like a cotton-filled maze. I needed to get that clear so I could formulate a plan. With my face as good as it was going to get, I smoothed down my clothes and faced the man still glaring at me.
“I guess I’m ready.”
He rolled his eyes and stepped to the side.
I took that as my indication that I was to precede him and walked back into the bedroom. Halfway through the bathroom door, he grabbed my arm and used it to propel me in t
he direction of the bedroom door.
Lovely.
Kidnapped, drugged, ordered around and now being led to—what—the slaughter? Like a child? Anger bit at my skin like a thousand tiny ants all trying to get a piece of me. It both unnerved and fueled me. Fine. If Bill wanted a confrontation, I would give him one. I would not go quietly.
Out in the hall, I stumbled forward as I tried to keep pace. But it was my surroundings that caught my notice. The plush carpet underneath me felt incredibly padded and the walls were covered in wallpaper that resembled real gold. And the light fixtures. Good God they dripped with so many crystals the light sparkled as we passed each one.
“Where are we? Some sort of fancy hotel?”
What the hell was Bill up to and how in the hell did he afford such accommodations? Of course, my question went unanswered as I was practically dragged to a door at the other end.
We halted in front of the door. “You go in.”
I rolled my eyes. I was definitely getting the impression that English was not this dude’s primary language. I shuddered to think of where Bill had started recruiting his security. If he was involved in some sort of international—
Who was I kidding? My former fake husband could be anyone. Maybe not even a US Citizen. How would I know? Considering I’d been left in the dark and didn’t actually know who Bill Bennett was or where he came from…
“Go in,” he repeated.
I turned and glared at him. “Stop telling me what to do. I’ll go in when I’m damn good and ready.”
“You go in now.” He opened the door and shoved me forward.
I tried not to stumble but the big shit had caught me off guard. “Mother fuck—”
“Such language from a beautiful woman. How very American of you. Oh well. I’m sure we can do something to break that. I am, however, happy to see you’ve finally gotten out of bed. It was about time, don’t you think?”
Somehow I didn’t fall, not even when my body locked up at the sound of a voice I didn’t recognize. I did, however, take a moment to steady myself before turning around to face the unknown.
