by Anne Conley
“Yeah, there was a woman across the hall, nice lady, your neighbor?” The glint in his eyes made Mia believe he knew who her neighbor was, and he was wounding her with his words. Because he did. Knowing there was another woman with Jordan hurt like hell.
But was Mike even telling the truth? Did he have any idea of Mia’s feelings for Jordan? He was so in denial about her feelings for him, what made her think he would understand her feelings for Jordan? Especially when she herself barely understood them? Her mind spun.
All she knew was she wanted Jordan to come get her, and that was weird. She’d never needed a man in her life.
Her entire existence, her mother had depended on one man after another. When she was in between men, she was a shell of a human—no time for her daughter, a job, cleaning, nothing. She would stay in bed for weeks at a time, bottle of vodka at her side. But as soon as a man showed up in her life to take care of her, her mother found a new lease on life. She was a different person altogether as soon as there was a man to impress.
And Mia had vowed to never be that woman. She had a strong work ethic, got out of bed every morning, kept her trashy apartment clean, and didn’t need a man. She was living now for her sister, to bring her home and give her a life her mother wasn’t willing to give her.
Until Jordan Rocco had moved in across the hall. Suddenly it was been body shot battles and long talks, along with promises of the best sex of her life, and whispered ‘I like yous’ in the night.
But no… She was tied to a stranger’s bed, God knows where, and nobody knew where she was, if anyone was even looking.
“I brought you the chamber pot. I’m sorry we have to do it this way, but—”
“I know, it didn’t work out so well for the others.” Mia gritted through the indignity of Mike lowering her pants and did her business, getting angrier by the minute.
Jordan was just pulling his bike up to the front of Pierce Securities while Ryan was perched out front, leaning against the building. “Park it, man. We’re going to Evelyn’s place. Evan’s on a warpath for you.”
“Shit.” Jordan knew it would be bad but didn’t realize his brother would take his own issues out on the entire office.
“It’s okay, I just don’t think it would be great for you to go in there right now.” Ryan shrugged, his mouth grim.
“‘Kay,” Jordan agreed and rolled his Harley over to the parking garage, where Ryan followed and met him at his truck.
On the way to Evelyn’s place, Ryan broke through Jordan’s fidgeting. “I know what you’re going through.”
Jordan had checked his phone, his pockets, made sure he had his gun handy and keys at the ready, just in case he had a need for them. “What do you mean?”
“Dude, you know mine and Krista’s story, right?” Evan had told him, Jordan knew, but it wasn’t until just this moment that he’d realized. It was weird the difference between knowing things and knowing things.
“What was it like when she was taken?”
Ryan’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel at the memory. “Dude, there’s no way to describe the feeling of impotence you have. I totally get it, but if she can be found, we’ll find her.”
If she can be found. Jordan couldn’t hear those words. They left so much to chance, and Jordan didn’t live his life by chance. He was a man who planned for every contingency, every what if, every off-chance. But this, he hadn’t planned to be walking down the street and see his girl being snatched up and shoved in a van.
They arrived at Evelyn’s place, a small apartment complex in a horribly bad neighborhood. There was an ancient swimming pool—overtaken by grass and weeds instead of chlorinated water—in a courtyard.
The dumpiness of Evelyn, Misty, and Mia’s apartments was not lost on Jordan. The only thing that stood out at this point, was Misty actually had a family who loved her and reported her missing right off the bat. Evelyn hadn’t had that, if she was alive. And all Mia had was him. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened to her if he wasn’t in her life. How long would it take her mother to realize from wherever she was that Mia wasn’t answering her phone anymore?
Ryan effortlessly picked the lock while Jordan watched. When he opened the door with his t-shirt hem, Jordan handed him a pair of latex gloves. “Dude, we can’t leave fingerprints. If this turns into something we can use, we call the cops and get them over here. We can’t fuck up the evidence stuff. They will need to build a case.”
Ryan nodded and followed Jordan inside.
It was well-kept and tidy. Colorful pillows were artfully arranged on a tattered sofa, framed photos developed in black and white adorned her walls—mostly landscapes—a lone coffee mug sat in the sink, waiting to be washed and put away. The air was stale and musty from a month of disuse.
They looked around carefully for hours, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Evelyn was a reader with a stack of romance novels by her bed and a fancy, purple vibrator in her bedside table. Jordan couldn’t blame her. It was obviously less messy than actual relationships, even though she was dating online. At least she had one date the night she went missing.
They couldn’t find anything about that in her things, though, nor was there a purse, which made Jordan think maybe whoever had kidnapped her had kept it for a souvenir. Or it was in a dumpster somewhere.
But Jordan got the impression the kidnapper knew Evelyn, she was his first victim, and he probably had kept it. If the kidnapper knew her, there had to be a clue here to that effect.
Finally, Ryan found a photo album in the bookshelf by her bed, and together they flipped through it, anxious to find something, anything, that would help find the connection.
When they found what they were looking for, Jordan’s heart pounded in triumph while at the same time plummeting. She knew him, and apparently knew him well. He was all over her photo album, lots of pictures of the two of them together, as well as with another man who favored the kidnapper. Because now, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. This guy had Mia.
He called Detective Hollerman and told him they’d found another victim and then they waited outside after pocketing one of the photos.
It took almost an hour for the detective to show up, during which time Ryan called Evan to ask him to look up any step-siblings of Evelyn’s, since he still probably wasn’t speaking to Jordan.
Hollerman showed up with a partner, who went into the apartment while he stayed outside, eyeballing Ryan and Jordan, irritation flicking in his eyes.
“Why are you guys here?” He seemed genuinely curious, even a little afraid the security firm would make him look bad, but regret shone in his eyes for some crucial piece of evidence he might have missed.
“Her name came up in our investigation. She had some sort of relationship with the suspect, the one at the diner. There might be pictures of them together in her photo album she might keep by her bed.” Jordan offered in an attempt to be cooperative. The last thing he wanted was roadblocks from the local law enforcement. It had been hard standing around waiting on him, but he’d done it because he needed the man’s help.
His eyebrows rose. “Did you boys break in?”
Ryan shook his head. “No, Sir, we were just checking on our friend, and her door was unlocked.” Blue eyes wide, he was the picture of innocence. Jordan needed to take notes.
Hollerman nodded, not buying it, but not questioning it, either. He knew they were lying, but at the same time, he also knew he was in a tight spot and needed all the leads he could get. It had opened a door for him, and Jordan could see he knew it. He sighed heavily before moving to go inside. “What are y’all doing next?”
Ryan answered, “Probably going back to the office to see what this new information digs up while I watch Jordan get his ass kicked by his brother.” He grinned cheekily and Jordan smothered the urge to slug him.
He knew it was misplaced aggression. He needed to find Mia and all this sitting around and bullshitting, making nice with the
cops wasn’t doing it.
“Right.” The detective flashed Jordan an inscrutable look and let himself in the apartment, leaving them.
They made their way back toward Ryan’s truck—on the other side of the defunct pool—in a thick silence. It wasn’t a dead end, but it still didn’t give them answers. Just another piece of the puzzle. Jordan had a clearer picture but still didn’t know where to look for Mia. Hopefully, Evan would find something. If Evan would speak to him.
Ryan’s truck, a black beast of a Ford, was surrounded by punks. Nice.
“Fellas, thanks for keeping an eye out for my truck there,” Ryan drawled carefully, halting his steps.
One of the guys pushed off the bumper, dragging deeply off a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. “No problem. It’s just one of the many services we offer.” Grinning wickedly, he added, “Unfortunately, they can get to be expensive services.”
A couple of the guys behind him chuckled. Six in all.
Jordan eyeballed Ryan, stifling his wince when he cracked the knuckles on his bad hand. “Guess we’d better pay the boys, huh?”
Ryan grinned. He needed to let off some steam.
Mike had been sitting on the edge of the bed Mia was tied to, staring at her since he finished the last book he’d read her. His eyes roamed her body, making Mia feel vulnerable and afraid. She knew what he was thinking—the lust was written all over his face—yet he warred with something inside himself, and Mia wanted to help him make the right decision.
But he’d gagged her shortly after she suggested he stop reading to her. Apparently, he liked romances more than she did.
She still couldn’t figure out exactly what he wanted from her. He’d tied her to the bed three days ago and had only left her alone for small periods of time—when he went to her apartment, or the bathroom, or to fix food. He’d spent his entire time hovering over her, attending to her every need as he perceived them.
Unable to get him to grasp that the way to her heart was to fucking let her go, she was stuck here.
And he was still staring at her. In almost any other situation, he would have been a nice-looking guy. With longish blond hair, aquamarine blue eyes intensely focused on her in a lust-filled haze, he had a body full of lean muscles that gave Mia no doubt he could overpower her again, as he had already.
She saw the moment he made his decision with a sigh, and she inhaled deeply, wondering what was next. Slowly, his hand reached out for her and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smelled the stale tobacco on his fingers and wondered if she’d ever not associate that scent with this experience.
Mia sat still while he leaned forward and inhaled deeply, his body pressing her into the mattress. Biting her lip, she thought frantically. This was the closest he’d gotten to her since she’d been here, and she desperately thought for a way to use it to her advantage.
Her mother hadn’t taught her much about relationships, but if she’d learned anything from her, it was how to pretend. So that’s what she decided to do.
Mike didn’t seem to harbor any ill-will toward her, in his completely misguided way. He was most definitely unhinged, but at this point wasn’t dangerous. At least, that’s what her instincts told her.
So she played along, trying to find a way out. If he would untie her, or at least unbind her mouth, she’d be more comfortable. When his hand caressed her cheek, she forced herself to lean into his touch, pleading with her eyes because she didn’t trust her voice. As it drifted lower, Mia pretended to enjoy it, breathing deeply to raise her chest to his touch.
His fingers trembled while they circled her breast through her t-shirt, and Mia felt the wave of nausea as she fought the urge to move away. Instead, she writhed a little, sort of satisfying her desire to get away, while making it look like she wanted more.
God, what the fuck was she doing? Admittedly, she hadn’t slept much since she’d been here and was more than likely lacking in the judgment department, but she couldn’t help but think if she gave him something, he might give her something. And she needed something. She needed a way out, needed him to drop his guard because she couldn’t count on a rescue. Jordan couldn’t find her or he would have already.
He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it gently, and she gasped. It hurt like hell because she wasn’t the least bit turned on, but he didn’t need to know that. The sensations that shot up her spine were those of disgust and revulsion, but she closed her eyes to hide it and arched into his touch, in spite of every nerve ending inside her screaming to stop and fight him.
She couldn’t fight him, or she was sure she would die. Like the ‘others.’
His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his lips parted, as his eyes rested on her heaving breasts.
“Evelyn, I—” he began, and Mia sighed, masking it as a sigh of desire, she hoped. It wasn’t the first time he’d called her Evelyn. Unhinged. “I’m sorry. But why did you leave me?”
She wanted to answer him something, to open a dialogue with him. If she could convince him she was Evelyn, she was sorry, she loved him, would he let her go? But the handkerchief in her mouth stopped her. She let out a garbled moan instead, and let him believe it was pleasure.
His hands continued their roaming while his eyes got more desperate. Mia knew what was going to happen, so she did the only thing she could do. She pretended he was Jordan, his hands were Jordan’s, his ragged tobacco breath belonged to Jordan. In her mind and heart, Mia knew what she was doing. But it was either fight or play along, and she was too scared to fight.
So she gave in to the fear and let her imagination protect her from what was happening. Heart splicing from the reality of her betrayal, Mia reminded herself she and Jordan hadn’t made any commitments to each other. But the act hurt nonetheless, and it hurt worse because she didn’t fight. She gave in and pretended.
And then she sobbed. When Mike had finished and laid a soft kiss on her forehead before rolling off the bed and going to the bathroom, Mia sobbed like the baby she was. As the fat tears ran down her cheeks, Mia cried for the missed opportunity of something special. Because as surely as two hours between the sheets with Jordan would have ruined her for men, surely this fifteen minutes with Mike had ruined her, too. As a person.
She would never get salvation now.
Ryan let out a triumphant roar as he rushed the lead punk leaning on his truck while Jordan took on the guy next to him, who’d pulled a two-by-four from behind his back with a snarl. He needed an outlet for the frustration and helplessness he was feeling, and these punks were picking on the wrong men.
Punching him in the face with his good hand and twisting his arm around behind him in one move, Jordan disarmed the boy with a flick of his wrist and now the two-by-four was his. He swung around and smashed it into the mid-section of the second punk coming up on him and then twirled it in his good hand, pointing it at the other two who’d zeroed in on him before raising it over his shoulder like a baseball bat and tossing them a come-hither smirk.
Ryan was faring okay with his punk, having broken his nose and moved on to the next one. With very little sweat, all six guys were either running away or watching them warily, arms raised in gestures of innocence.
“Like I said, thanks for keeping my truck safe, guys,” Ryan tossed over his shoulder as he got in and unlocked the door for Jordan.
Ryan called in to work while Jordan stared out the window, trying to think of a plan. The problem was, nothing was coming to him. A rare sense of self-doubt hit him. This was different from his past assignments in the Marines; now he had a personal stake, he was frozen. Without a location for Mia, Jordan was totally lost. Never mind that he’d been a pro at finding people when he was at war. This was different. This was Mia. His targets had always been faceless. Never knowing the way their faces lit up when they smiled, the way they smelled fresh out of the shower, or what they slept in at night made it easier. He’d been so cocky about his skills before, but now
he was failing miserably.
He was going to lose her, and he’d never had her. He’d never felt so defeated in his life.
“Evan gave us an address for the guy Evelyn went on a date with. Name’s Joey Royal,” Ryan offered after he hung up the phone. “Evan says you’ll get yours when you least expect it. He seems to be cool. He’s going to look into Evelyn Torres and figure out who those guys are in the picture.” Ryan snapped a photo of the picture on his phone and punched in some numbers to send it over to Evan. Jordan felt a welling of pride in his brother. Dude was more capable than he’d realized. And he’d always known Evan was a fucking wizard with a computer.
“Let’s go, then.” Jordan didn’t want to think about whatever retribution his brother had planned for siccing their mother on Paige about the pregnancy thing. Now he had a direction, and hopefully, more information—something to lead him in the right direction to find Mia.
Joey Royal, Evelyn’s Tinder date, lived in an up and coming neighborhood in the part of Austin that had lots of new and some established tech companies. It was full of what he thought of as McMansions—houses that were fancy enough but made to look just like every other fancy house in the neighborhood.
Jordan let Ryan take the lead as he followed the man up the walk to the house. He was afraid his nerves would betray him and he’d say or do something stupid, something that could get Mia hurt. It was entirely possible when Joey opened the door, he would be a blond Mikey who had been hanging out at the diner the night Mia’s tires were slashed, and he’d have to kill the man.
But when the door opened to a gangly man dressed in khaki shorts and a polo and dark, wiry hair which spoke of a mixed heritage, Jordan exhaled a breath of relief. Even though that meant he was still a step away from Mia, at least blood wouldn’t be shed right this second.
“Mr. Royal? Can we ask you a few questions about Evelyn Torres?” Jordan and Ryan flashed their badges at him, and he opened the door wider to let them in.
