by Nic Saint
He symbolized all that was wrong with America—the culture of greed—the culture of boundless avarice that turned men into jackals ferociously preying on the weak and the underprivileged.
As she gulped away her grief, she knew this was the best thing that could have happened to her. He was gone—good riddance. She would take up her old life again, and never get involved with the likes of Will Thornton ever again.
He could spend his days in his dungeon of wealth, surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world, bedding a different specimen each night, and she wouldn’t even care—wouldn’t bat an eye. She would fight on—would fight for a better, juster America.
She nodded and wiped her sleeve across her face, then snuffled and pushed herself to her feet, stumbling back into the oblong of light that was the entrance to her very own world. She’d invite some friends over. They could hang and talk revolution, and soon she’d forget all about the last forty-eight hours. That crazy time when she briefly thought she could mean something to one of the super-rich.
As she returned to her apartment, she heard the door slam downstairs, then heavy footfalls racing up the stairs. She held her breath, frozen in place, and when Will’s head suddenly appeared across the landing, the gun in his hand, she stumbled back, holding out her hand.
“Wait—don’t—“
Had he returned to kill her? To shut her up once and for all?
“Kelley,” he said, extending his other hand, dropping the gun hand to his side. “Come with me. It’s not safe for you here.”
“Wha-wha-what?” she stammered.
With quick strides he closed the distance between them and took her hand. Then he gestured around the room. “Is there anything you need right now? Your laptop? Anything?”
She blinked in confusion. What was going on here? “Will,” she emphatically said. “Why are you doing this?”
His eyes flicked to hers and settled there, his hand coming up to cup her chin. “I realized something as I was running away from you, Kelley. Maybe it’s because I’ve fallen under your spell, or maybe it’s a case of temporary madness, but… I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you weren’t safe. You have to come with me.”
As she started to stammer out a response, he dipped down and covered her lips with his, shutting her up.
When he broke the kiss, he smiled. “Now can we get the hell out of here? There’s some mad gunman waiting to shoot holes in the both of us, and if we let him, we will never make it to that wedding.”
“Wedding?” she muttered, feeling unequal to the situation and the swift changes of fortune. It was as if the ground she walked on kept shifting.
He picked up the letter that had fluttered to the floor and tucked it into his pocket. “Your friend Tatiana’s wedding. I’m your date, remember?”
“Right.” She slowly let her breath escape her lungs, then gasped as he grabbed her by the arm and propelled her toward the door.
“Now let’s go. I talked to those kids outside, and they’ve promised me they’ll cover us until we reach the car. Even Drake wouldn’t risk shooting a bunch of strangers just to draw a bead on us. The man might be a killer, but he’s not a mass murderer.”
Rumbling down the stairs, they carefully opened the door and peeked out. As Will had promised, a group of ten youngsters hovered on the steps, dipping their heads in acknowledgment as Kelley stepped into their midst.
“We’re doing this for you, Kelley,” the oldest of the gang intoned as he gave Will a hard stare. “Not for this asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Will. “Let’s go.”
And as one body, they all moved with Will and Kelley as they crossed the street to Will’s Lambo, making sure they were covered from all sides. Crouching low, Kelley thought she caught a glimpse of the bald man, but she couldn’t be certain. In any case, Will’s plan was brilliant, she decided, for they reached the car without getting shot, and when she opened the passenger door and slid inside, she directed a look of gratitude at the boys who had just saved her life.
Moments later, they were speeding away, and she saw the tall man staring after them, murder in his eyes.
Will let out a long sigh of relief. “That went well.” He deftly tapped a button on his steering wheel and pressed an earpiece to his ear. “Ro? Thought you’d be interested to know that one of Harlan’s men just targeted us outside Kelley’s place. Drake.” He grimaced as he listened to Roland’s response. “I agree. I think the code expired when Ty went up in flames. Better watch your back, bro.”
He removed the earpiece and looked over to Kelley. “From now on I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
She smiled. “Until you change your mind again, that is.”
It hadn’t escaped her attention how volatile Will’s mood could be. One moment he deeply cared about her, the next he couldn’t put enough distance between them. It was safe to say the man was conflicted.
He slowly shook his head, his eyes darkening. “I’ll never leave you side again, Kelley. That’s a promise.”
The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down her spine. This time, she knew, he meant every word. Whatever happened, Will wouldn’t let any harm come to her. A warm flush spread across her bosom as he extended his hand and placed it on her cheek.
“Thanks, I guess,” she quickly quipped to cover her fluster.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he returned. “We’re at war now, honey, and all bets are off.”
As the car’s powerful engine purred obligingly under Will’s steady hands, she asked, “I thought we were heading back to your place?”
“We are.”
“Don’t you live in Manhattan?”
He shook his head. “Not safe anymore.”
After a brief moment, she recognized the direction they were headed. Long Island. She remembered from her file. They were going to the Thornton Estate. Something tightened in her stomach as she realized what this meant. She was going to meet Will’s family.
Chapter 21
Drake stared after the car as it disappeared around the corner. A huddle of young punks started in his direction so he darted across the street to his own car and stepped in. Smart move on Will’s part, he ruefully thought, but he would get another chance. A tap on his window had him look up, and he saw that he was surrounded by the bitch’s buddies.
He lowered the window and demonstratively held out his gun. The punk who’d leered at him seemed to reconsider at the sight of the large piece of hardware, and retreated, drawing the rest of his crew along.
He pressed the button for the window to roll down, and switched on his communicator. “Mackie? The asshole got away.”
He briefly related the circumstances of Will’s narrow escape, and listened to the instructions, nodding in agreement. At first, he’d questioned the order to eliminate William Thornton, wanting to get his hands on Roland instead. Now he understood. Will was Jack’s favorite—always had been, hands down. His violent death would devastate the old man, just like the death of Ty had hit Harlan hard.
He quickly put the car in gear and spun the tires, kicking up dust and smoke, then peeling away from the curb in a squeal of rubber. The night wasn’t over yet. In fact, it had only just begun.
As Roland put down the phone, he reflected that things were progressing rapidly. It had never occurred to him that Harlan would order a hit on a Thornton. The code that had been in place for years now insisted no member of either family would ever be targeted, and both Jack and Harlan had always kept that promise. Now the truce had been shattered, and all bets were off.
He wondered where Harlan would hit next, and briefly let his mind flit to Chloe, who now lived with her police chief boyfriend in a small town called Heartford, Alaska. He would have to put Jackson on alert, make sure he was prepared for any strangers rolling into town. He didn’t think Chloe needed to return to Long Island, though. Jackson would keep her safe.
Then his mind drifted to that other part of the truce: the Long Island e
states of both families were off-limits, no man allowed to set foot on the property of the other. Was that promise null and void as well? Would Harlan send in an army and wipe out the entire family in a military style attack?
He doubted it, but then again, he’d never expected Drake to mount an attempt on Will’s life either.
He rose from the leather couch he’d been lounging on, carrying his glass of Scotch to the window as he stared out across New York’s skyline. A soft voice sounded behind him, and he smiled as he watched his wife glide up to him, her reflection in the window whispering a promise of what was to come.
They’d been trying to have a baby for a little while now, and tonight was one of the nights Alicia had marked on their calendar.
He turned around and watched as her strikingly blue eyes laughed up at him, her russet curls pulled back from her brow in a chignon at the nape of her neck.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said huskily, never tiring of her beauty and grace.
“Hey, yourself,” she returned, and gave him a half-smile that took his breath away. She brushed her hand across his brow, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that had appeared there. Instinctively, she knew something was bothering him. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed and trailed his hands along her sides. She was wearing a silky nightgown, having just stepped from the shower and ready to go to bed. He hated to have to do this but had no other choice. “We have to go to Long Island, honey.”
She laughed. “What, your mom called and decided to invite us to dinner, after all?”
“Not this weekend. Right now.”
Her expression changed from one of carelessness to one of worry. “Why?”
On impulse, he pressed her against him, wanting to feel her softness—wanting to soothe his own concerns by knowing she was right here—everything that was important to him right here in his arms. He brushed a kiss against her hair. “Harlan just tried to have Will killed.”
She drew back, startled. “But that’s against the rules, isn’t it?”
It was a testament to how well she’d adjusted to life as a Thornton that her first instinct wasn’t to suggest they call the police. They took care of things their own way. Always had.
“It is,” he agreed. “That’s why this place isn’t safe anymore. There’s no telling what he will do next, but if he targeted Will, he might come after us as well.”
“You have to call Tom and Tony,” she urged. “And Scott and Anna.”
“They’ve all been put on alert, and so have my men.” He hated to see her worried like this, but there was no other way. “We’ll be fine,” he assured.
“We’ll be fine once we’re home,” she corrected.
“Right.” He hesitated, not knowing whether to tell her about his greatest fear. But then of course she saw right through him.
“You’re worried that Harlan will disrespect your home,” she stated.
“I am,” he admitted.
Her expression hardened. She’d had her own dealings with Harlan de Montesquieu when her father was kidnaped and held prisoner in one of Harlan’s facilities. In a daring mission, she and Roland and Scott had freed the professor and landed a striking blow to Harlan’s space program.
“We need to strike back, Ro. We can’t be sitting ducks. We need to launch a counterattack before he wipes us all out. We need to kill the bastard in his own home.”
He laughed at her vehemence, which was one of the traits he most loved about her. He slid his hand around her neck and pulled her in with ease, taking her mouth and not letting go until she swooned in his arms. She still took his breath away, every single day. “I love it when you talk dirty,” he whispered.
Chapter 22
Kelley studied Will’s profile as the car sped on. He looked very much like his brother Roland, she decided, though Roland’s face was harder in a way, his eyes having witnessed so much violence in his lifetime, they’d grown weary. Will had a wonderful sense of humor that Roland didn’t possess. If only he could lighten up, he would be a great man to spend time with—spend her life with.
As matters now stood, he was too much the harsh billionaire and not enough of the playful friend she craved in a partner. All this pushing and pulling her this way and that didn’t much appeal to her independent side. She hated when men used her as a pinball, plying her to their will.
She had lived alone for so long, never been accountable to anyone, that she didn’t want to start now, no matter how sexy and truly amazing Will was.
And that he was sexy and amazing was beyond question. If only he could be less of a Thornton and more… Will.
He turned to look at her and smiled. “You’re going to love my mother. She’s the warmest person I know.”
“I just hope she likes me. Not many do.”
He arched his brow. “Mothers, you mean? Can’t see why not.”
“Right,” she returned skeptically.
She frowned, and found herself annoyed with his rapid change of mood. With Will she never knew where she stood. One day he loved her, the next he hated her. First he needed her help, then he accused her of working with the enemy. She was getting tired of the whole spiel.
“Look, Will, we both know the only reason you’re dragging me along is because you think you need me. You think you need my computer skills or whatever you think I can provide you with. But what you don’t need is me. You’ve made that quite clear on more than one occasion over the last couple of days.”
“And I’m sorry about that. Roland told me you were bad news, and—“
“And you believed him.” She shrugged and turned to stare out the window. She couldn’t blame him for trusting his own flesh and blood more than he did her. After all, he’d only known her for two days.
“Look, I never said this was going to be easy,” he offered. “I come with baggage, honey, and so do you.”
She shook her head. Why did he suddenly call her honey? They’d slept together twice, more like had amazingly hot sex twice, but that didn’t make her his. He had no claim on her any more than she pretended to have a claim on him.
“I think we should get one thing clear, Will,” she began.
“I absolutely agree. Let’s make one thing clear. I deeply care about you, and that’s all that matters.”
“No, it’s not. For this to work I have to care about you as well.”
He frowned. “And you don’t? You’re honestly going to sit there and tell me you don’t care about me?”
She hesitated, then hitched up her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she quite honestly stated. So many things were happening, and all at the same time, she didn’t know what to feel anymore. All she knew was that she needed some peace and quiet. Some space. Some time to get her head on straight and figure out what was going on in her life.
His lips tightened. “Well, if you don’t know, neither do I.”
“Look, Will,” she started to say, but then all of a sudden there was a gigantic crash that shook her to the core, and the next moment the world was reduced to a maelstrom of twisting metal, crunching glass and a bottomless pit she was being hurled into.
Blackness enveloped her, and then she was plummeting into the abyss, the ground racing up to her, and then she knew no more.
She jerked awake, a sickening sense of nausea holding her in its grip, and she blinked against the harsh light pounding into her skull. When she tried to sit up, she found that she couldn’t, and then discovered her arms and legs were fastened to the table she was lying on.
Scared and confused, she strained to make out the first clues of her surroundings, and found she was in a small room, whitewashed walls their only feature, and was strapped down to a metal table of some kind, a white sheet loosely draped over her.
She strained to release her limbs but found that she couldn’t—whoever had tied her up had done a great job. As she grunted in desperation, the exertion making her head spin, the door swung open and a man dressed like a doctor strode in, his sallow bearde
d face carrying a supercilious look as he studied her briefly.
“Miss… Casey?” he read from the flip chart he carried.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” she demanded.
“You were in an accident,” he announced, checking some beeping, blinking contraption directly behind her, and only now did she notice the wires running from beneath the blanket to the machine, and surmised they were somehow connected to her body.
The man lowered the sheet and inspected a needle pricking into her hand. She now found she was naked beneath the sheet, and started when the man’s hand drifted from the IV drip to her breast and enveloped it, kneading her tender flesh and splaying his fingers across her nipple, squeezing hard.
“Hey! What is this!” she yelled out, trying to shake off the pervert’s hand.
“Mh,” he muttered. “I see everything is quite in order…”
His hand then stole down along her belly and next thing she knew, he was prodding her vagina, spreading her pussy lips as he probed her with a single finger.
“Get your hands off me, you asshole!” she cried.
“Myes,” he mused. “Yes, everything is perfectly in order.” He seemed to perk up at this, for his face displayed the hint of a smile. “I think you’re quite ready now, Miss…” Once again, his eyes drifted to his clipboard before he continued. “Miss Kelley Casey.”
“Ready for what?”
Instead of responding, the man in white carefully removed the IV drip from her hand, briefly disinfecting the wound, then strode back to the door and then left the room without another word, switching off the light as he did so.
As she was plunged into darkness, Kelley screamed, “Ready for what!” She fought the restraints tying her down. “Where’s Will! Talk to me, you creep!”
But the door softly closed with a hiss, and she was alone again, her cries falling on deaf ears.
Chapter 23
