Captive (The Phantom Series Book 1)

by Jenny Lynn

  I rushed over to the bottle and refilled my wine glass. I was losing my mind, I couldn’t afford to think this way. Beckett Carter was my enemy, this was a game, and I needed to outwit him to win my freedom. Then I would expose him to the world. He broke the law, and he deserved for everyone to know who he was - who he really was. Then I could go on that date with Seth. Safe, reliable, stable Seth. I could trust him. Maybe, just maybe, I could fully give myself to him. But I wouldn’t know until I got out of this damn room.

  Taking another sip, my head was starting to feel deliciously cloudy, I scanned the room. There must be something I could do. Maybe I could get Beckett to come to the door and I could hit him over the head with something? But he was strong, much stronger than me. The best I could probably do is give him a headache and piss him off. Think Ella, think. You can figure this out.

  My eyes landed on the candles. On the matches. It came to me. It was risky, if Beckett had gone back out for the night I could suffocate or kill myself. But if he was still here, he would need to rush in and deal with the situation. Then I could escape. If he didn’t, I would use water from the bathroom to put out the flames. I tipped back the rest of the wine for courage, then got to work.

  I placed a pillow by the door, then got the matches. I struck one until it gleamed bright in my hand, watching the flame dance between my fingers. Then, I dropped it. There was a flicker, a thin line of smoke and for a second I thought it had gone out. But then there was a glow, faint at first, but it grew quickly. I stood back as the small patch grew larger and brighter, reaching up and licking hot against the wood of the door and causing clouds of smoke to roll out. When the flames were high, half the pillow consumed, I took in a deep breath and yelled.

  “Beckett!”

  The smoke was pouring across the floor, rising up and filling the air with an acrid smell. I put my hands in front of my face and coughed, my eyes watering and my nose burning at the sooty smell. The room grew cloudy but I heard nothing, no footsteps. Maybe he had left. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  “Beckett!” I shouted again.

  I started to feel a rush of panic. What was I doing, what was I thinking? The fire had caught on the door, the wood glowing with the bright flames as they climbed higher and higher. I needed to stop this soon or the whole room would go up in flames, me included. I coughed as I stepped backwards, moving towards the bathroom. Then the door was yanked open. Beckett stepped back, his eyes wide.

  “What the hell?”

  This was my chance. I rushed the door, ducked under his arms and noticed the passage he had left open. He took a step towards me then froze, staring at the flames. He had too many problems right now to focus on. He rummaged along the wall looking for something but I didn’t stay to find out what, I ran through unfamiliar rooms. A library, then left. I started opening door after door, how big was this place? I turned and ran back the way I came as I heard a loud spraying noise back where I came. Past a kitchen, I was standing in a living room. There, against the wall, an elevator. My way out. My legs flew as I rushed forward, pressing the button over and over again. I didn’t stop pressing the button, willing the sliding doors to open and give me a way to escape. I looked over my shoulder, then back at the doors.

  “Come on, come on,” I pressed the button harder and quicker as if that would make it come any faster.

  Finally, there was a quick chime. The doors slowly opened and I dropped inside, pressing the ground floor. My lungs were aching from the smoke and from running, but what I saw next made me hold my breath. Beckett was standing there, holding a fire extinguisher in his hands. He dropped it then shot his hand forward, just before the doors closed.

  “No!” I shouted as he scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. I pounded his back with my fists, I bit his shoulder like a wild animal, thrashing and fighting with every ounce of my strength. Past the library in the room, now smoky, he pulled open a drawer to grab something. My eyes went wide when I saw the wall of weapons hung up. Maybe I would have been smarter to grab one of those when he was distracted. I didn’t know how to shoot a gun, but he didn’t know that.

  There was a rattling noise as he picked up what he had been looking for, then walked out of the room. He wasn’t putting me back into the fire-damaged room, he was walking out the library down a hallway now. He kicked open a door, holding me tight with one arm, then threw me down on a large four poster bed. I twisted over and he grabbed my leg, holding me in place. I kicked, hard, as something metal locked around my leg.

  I looked over my shoulder, frozen, as I watched him lock the other end to a thick wooden post on his bed. He had just chained me up, like an animal. Our eyes met, he was glaring at me. His jaw was tight and his lips were pressed in a firm line. He was pissed off. He pointed a finger at me.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  “Let me go Beckett!” I was shaking. “This has gone too far.”

  “You think this has gone too far?” He took a step towards me and I shrank against his sheets, my heart hammering in my chest. “You think you have me all figured out Ella, but you have no idea who I am. What I’m capable of.”

  He continued to move towards me, then he leaned over me, pinning me between his arms against his bed as his eyes burned into mine. He was furious, and not hiding it at all.

  “You’re not going to hurt me,” I gasped. “I know you won’t.”

  “That’s the thing Ella,” his voice was low. “You don’t know what I am. What I want.”

  I swallowed hard, staring at the lines of his face. A part of me wanting. Needing, in an aching way I had never felt before. In a way that was completely inappropriate given the situation.

  “And what do you want Beckett? Tell me.”

  His face was inches from mine, his eyes burning with anger, but then they softened slightly. There was a change to his expression, just for a split second. I would have missed it if I wasn’t so close to him, close enough to see every line of his face. Close enough to smell the scent of smoke, but also the clean masculine scent of his cologne. His eyes drifted from my eyes to my lips, then back to my eyes. The wine was swimming through my veins, the adrenaline of my attempted escape. The threat of the fire I had caused, and the tight metal clasp around my ankle. Then, I did something stupid.

  I pushed off the bed, towards Beckett, and pressed my mouth against him. He gasped then pulled back, looking down at me in confusion. I was still breathing hard, my heart beating so fast I was terrified it was going to stop at any minute, pushed to its limit. I opened my mouth to say something, to apologize or explain myself, but Beckett pushed himself forward and closed his lips over mine. I closed my eyes as his strong fingers wound in my hair, tugging slightly, as he parted my lips with his tongue and stroked against mine.

  I sank against the mattress, giving in to him. Beckett kissed like he owned me, like he was exploring the soft corners of my mouth and laying claim to every secret part of me. I was dizzy, heat rising to my cheeks and between my legs as he stroked his thumb over my neck, holding me down, my lips swelling with the pressure of his urgent kiss.

  Suddenly Beckett pulled back, breaking contact and leaving me wanting.

  “No,” he gasped, his voice ragged.

  I pushed myself onto my elbows, watching him as he stepped back.

  “It’s okay,” I tried to assure him. “I wanted to.”

  “This is wrong,” he turned his back to me, running his hands through his hair. I wanted to touch his hair, I wanted to run my fingers through it as he kissed me again.

  “Beckett-”

  “You’re confused Ella. I’ve taken you captive, but I won’t take more from you. I won’t allow myself. You don’t understand. The things I want to do to you… you don’t want to find out how dark I am. How dark I can be.”

  I crawled to the edge of the bed, the chain around my ankle rattling lightly as I moved. He was right. This was insane, I was out of
my mind, but I didn’t care. A part of me wanted him, I didn’t know why. Maybe after everything I had been through in my life this is what I felt I deserved. This is how I should be treated after a lifetime of pushing people away and making risky decisions.

  “Show me,” I whispered, watching him as he clenched his fists, his back still to me. “Show me who you really are Beckett.”

  He turned to face me finally, a tortured look on his face.

  “No Ella. I can’t. I need to go. Stay here.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him. I was chained to his bed, where did he think I was going to go?

  He walked towards the door, leaving me sitting on my legs watching as he walked away.

  “Don’t burn anything else,” he warned me. Then he was gone.

  I looked down at the chain, restraining me, then touched my swollen lips. The memory of his mouth against mine as he held me down made my skin bristle with goosebumps. What had just happened? Why had I kissed him? Being here, being in Beckett’s home, knowing who he was and what he was capable of. It must all be finally getting to me. I must be in shock. I really needed to get out of here and back to my life before I completely lost myself.

  Chapter Ten

  Beckett

  I walked from the room, away from Ella and away from temptation, everything in me clenched tight. I could still taste her on my lips, my body was brimming with need. Another second and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. I wanted her. Helpless and chained to my bed, I wanted to hold her down and strip her naked. I wanted to run my hands over her smooth skin, hands that had broken bones and ended lives. Hands that could only bring pain and destruction. I was terrified, terrified of hurting her. Of how rough I knew I could be, how rough I wanted to be.

  I couldn’t let that happen, someone like me should not be her first time. I needed to end this between us before it got any farther, I needed to set her free. Back to her life, back to that boy Seth. And there was only one way to end this. With the payment of a long overdue blood debt.

  I rushed through my library into the room where my equipment and weapons were held. The air was still heavy with smoke and thick mist from the fire extinguisher. I was going to have to repair this damage eventually. I was fucking pissed off at her for starting a fire, but I had to admire her resourcefulness. She was clever. Reckless and foolish, but brave. When I let her go and we eventually faced off, the reporter against the billionaire with a secret, she was going to be a worthy adversary. I knew that much.

  I stripped from my clothes, into my protective black layers that transformed me from Beckett Carter into the Phantom. As I pulled handguns and ammo from the wall, clipping them into my belt, one thing was running through my head over and over again. Marco Venetti. It was time to act, time to take him down. No more planning, no more hesitating. I would take care of every guard standing in my way, I would remove every obstacle until it was just the two of us. I would press my gun to his temple and make him admit what he did to my parents, admit that he had them killed over a development deal.

  I would make Marco beg for his miserable life, and then I would pull the trigger and take that away from him because of everything he took from me. Then, I would be done. I would destroy everything linking me to the Phantom, get rid of every shred of evidence. If Ella decided to expose me, there would be no proof. And it wouldn’t matter, because the Phantom would be no more.

  I pulled on my mask, electricity coursing through my veins, as I hoped Dale’s information had been correct. There was a fight on tonight at the MGM, which means Marco should be there with his goons. It was late and it would be ending soon if it hadn’t already, if I was fast I could make it and hopefully catch him unaware. I left through the library, heading for the elevator. I stopped a moment at the end of the hallway and listened. It was quiet, Ella wasn’t making a sound. She didn’t call after me, she wasn’t struggling to break free. Maybe she had fallen asleep. Or maybe, more likely, she was horrified with herself over what had almost happened. After I was done, I would let her go. She would come to her senses and realize what a monster I am.

  I continued on to the elevator and got inside, riding down to the garage. I headed for my motorcycle and climbed on, securing my helmet, then accelerating forward with a roar that echoed off the concrete walls. The lights became a blur as I sped past, weaving around cars through the streets towards my destination. This city, it was all fake. All of it manufactured like a carefully planned magic trick. The audience dazzled by the illusion, but it was simple theatrics. Las Vegas was run by criminals who bought and sold human lives, who corrupted and killed. The day Marco Venetti killed my parents he created a monster. Beckett Carter died, and a darkness filled my body instead. He stole everything about me that was good, everything that could love. And I would never be able to find peace until I stared down at his corpse.

  Close, I was close. I parked my bike in an alley a few blocks away, then stepped off. The rest I could do by foot. From the building permits I had studied of the MGM there were a few rooms that could work as a meeting space, cut off and private, but only one backed out onto a closed off side street. It would be a discreet place to arrive or leave. It would be away from public sight for anything illegal they did, for anyone they hurt. It would also work to my advantage. I could feel it in my veins, that’s where they would be. That’s where I would end this.

  I walked quietly, around the corner of the side street, and glanced around the wall. There were two men waiting on either side of a door, guarding it, while a car idled. If I got into a shoot out with them it would be no good, Marco would know something was up and scurry away in another direction like the rat he was. No, this was going to need to be hard and fast.

  I knelt down, slowly taking out my guns and flipping back the safety, then I waited with my back pressed against the wall. I kept my breathing even, listening for a door to open, waiting for the signal to move. I could be patient. I had waited my entire life for this moment. A bang and a rusty creak, then I glanced around the corner. Three men came out, scanning the street, and the big guy appeared - Marco. The devil himself, dressed in a pressed black suit that covered his bulky body. His shaved head a perfect target in the glow of the overhead lights shining down. The car door was held open for him, then it was time.

  I rushed out, rolled as someone shouted then jumped up and shot the driver through the front window eliminating Marco’s getaway. A bullet whizzed past my shoulder and I rolled over the hood of the car, whipping up to shoot two guards who dropped to the floor. Back on my feet I shot a guard as he reached for the door.

  One guard rushed me and tackled me to the floor, holding me down as the other remaining guard aimed his gun. As he shot, I pulled the man on top of me to the side. He screamed as the bullet tore through his shoulder. Tossing him to the ground beside me, I shot the other guard and he crumpled to the dirty ground as the bullet tore through his body. It was all over in minutes, they had never even seen it coming. They were ready for anything, but not me.

  The last guard was crawling, pulling his injured body forward, reaching for his gun. He should have given up, maybe then I would have let him live. As his bloodied fingers wrapped around the barrel, pulling it towards him, I pressed my foot against his back. One bullet, and he stopped moving. These guards, like Dale, were not lives that I ever regretted taking. The Venetti family hired a specific type to work for them. Ex convicts accused of murder, assault, rape. The type of men who would be grateful for a job that paid well to let them continue to be the sick, violent fucks that they were. I was doing a public service taking them out, but I didn’t care about them now. There was only one man on my mind, and I had plenty of bullets left for him.

  I yanked open the car door and grabbed Marco by the jacket, hauling his bulky body out of the car and throwing him onto the ground. He fell hard and groaned as his head connected with the pavement. I glared down at him through my mask.

  “Only five guards? If you were smart you would have h
ad ten. Twenty. Either way, I would have killed an army to get to you.”

  “Fucking Phantom,” he sneered. “You’re a dead man.”

  Marco Venetti tried to push himself up off the ground, I kicked him in the side and he dropped back down.

  “Not so fast, you’re exactly where I want you to be Marco. On the ground, in an alley. Does that sound familiar? People you’ve had killed that way?”

  Marco gave a cough and clutched his side. I wanted to draw this moment out, savor it, but I didn’t have long. Someone would come looking for him soon.

  “I don’t know, I’ve had a lot of people killed.”

  “You took something from me.” I aimed my gun at his head, his beady eyes in his large face glaring at me. “Now I’m going to take something from you.”

  The unexpected happened; someone shot me. The impact knocked me over to the ground, but the bullet hit my vest so I was unharmed. Stunned, but unharmed. Marco rolled away and pulled himself back into the car while I whipped around, looking for the shooter. There was no one else in the alley. A second shot missed my head, just barely, and cracked the wall beside me. Up, they were up on the roof.

  I jumped to my feet, guns up, and moved in a circle but I couldn’t see anyone. A sniper was watching the alley, I hadn’t planned on that. Marco was one step ahead of me. I reached for the car handle, and a bullet tore through my side. I gasped as I fell to my knees. Whoever it was, I was not getting any closer to their boss. They had figured out I was wearing a vest and shot my side just above my hip. I felt blood leaking down my leg, hot and thick. I needed to get some cover.

  I rushed out of the alley and around the corner, dodging as bullets followed me. I kept running, clutching my side, until I was away from the building. I had my chance, and I blew it. I should have shot him the first chance I had, I should have ended things. Stalling cost me my revenge, and now it might cost me my life.