It was useless taking the frustration out on his IT team since security detail wasn’t their responsibility, but the curse words spewed out of him without restraint. He slammed the phone down and jabbed at the intercom button. “Emily? Tell Aiden and Owen to get their asses in here now.”
A moment later, the two men walked into the office. Aiden had a perplexed look on his face. “We’ve got eyes on Zetta, Logan. I promise, he doesn’t have Addison with him.”
“Then where the fuck is she?” He glared pointedly at Owen. “You were supposed to be watching her.”
“Hang on a minute.” Owen held his hands up. “She was in the office. Did you expect me to sit on her shoulder like a deranged fucking parrot?”
“If you had, she wouldn’t be missing right now.” Logan felt the rage boiling away inside him, threatening to burn everything in his wake.
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Owen shook his head. “Instead of playing the blame game, we need to figure out what’s happened to her. What information do we have?”
Logan filled them in on what Rhys and Quinn had uncovered. “But if Michael Zetta hasn’t got her, then who has?”
Two blank faces stared back at him, mirroring the anger and concern that clutched at his own heart. If they didn’t think of something soon, he might never get to tell Addison how he felt.
* * *
ADDISON TRIED TO suck in a breath, but instead she gagged on something clogging her mouth. Whatever it was, it tasted disgusting—like chemicals and dust and something sweetly metallic that turned her stomach. Her head felt like it weighed a ton and she could barely seem to hold it up.
“Ah, the little princess is finally awake.” A voice echoed around the room, the sound bouncing around so much that Addison couldn’t tell where it originated. “Did you have a good sleep, my dear?”
Her tongue moved against the material in her mouth and she coughed. If she’d wanted to respond, the sound would have been muffled beyond comprehension anyway. So she stayed quiet.
“It’s rude not to answer a question.”
Pain blinded Addison as something hard connected with the back of her head and white-hot flashes exploded behind her eyelids. A wet trickle snaked down her skull; she was sure it was blood. She craned her head, trying to see who was behind her.
“You want to look at my face, do you?” The man who’d greeted her with his clipboard came around into her field of vision. “There you are, get your fill.”
He didn’t look dangerous. His suit was neat, although not flashy, his black hair styled. So ordinary, unassuming. But a gun rested in one of his hands, a telltale smear of blood on the grip.
Danger comes in many forms, her dad had once said to her. She tried to swallow against the rising tide of fear in her throat.
“I should reintroduce myself,” he said, his ice-cold eyes piercing in the dull, dusty light.
Addison tried to glance around without letting him out of her peripheral vision. They seemed to be in an abandoned building. Broken windows let in shafts of light; a few pieces of office furniture sat unused and covered in dust.
How far had he taken her?
“You know me as Richard James, but that’s only part of the story. I’m Richard James Zetta.” Her face must have registered the name, because his lips twisted into a catlike smile. “So you do know me. Very clever, Ms. Cobalt. Too bad your security company doesn’t seem to be so quick. I believe they’ve been tailing my brother.”
A chill ran through Addison’s body. His brother... Michael Zetta. How had they missed that? Logan’s team would be following the wrong man, which meant no one would know where she was.
Cold fingers clutched at her heart.
“My stupid, stupid brother. All he cares about is suing the prison.” Richard shook his head. “Money doesn’t equal justice. It’s an eye for an eye! But he’s spending everything he has on fancy lawyers and he’ll probably lose the lot. But you—” he pointed at her with the gun “—you can help me get justice for my father.”
She tried to speak, but the words were lost in her gag. Her voice sounded muffled and her throat burned.
“Shh.” He held up a finger. “It’s not your turn, Addison. I’m sure you’re not used to having someone tell you what to do, but you’re smart enough to understand how this works. You do what I say and I don’t shoot you. Got it?”
She nodded, shivering at the cold grip of fear’s bony fingers wrapping around her spine.
“Now, we’re going to have a little game of show-and-tell. I show you your bank’s website and you tell me how to access your accounts.” He cackled at her confused look. “Money doesn’t equal justice for me, but I don’t want my brother going broke trying to pay legal fees. I figure you can help us both get what we want.”
The money didn’t matter to her, but it was clear that nothing she handed over would save her. She struggled against the restraints, trying to get a better view of the room. Trying to see if there was some way she could escape.
“And before you start thinking that your employees might turn up looking for you, don’t bother.” Richard held up a broken device that appeared to be her smartphone. “I made sure no one would be able to track you.”
Her stomach sank. How the hell was she going to get out of this?
* * *
“WE’VE MISSED SOMETHING,” Logan said as he faced the best and brightest of his team. Rhys, Quinn, Aiden and Owen all looked among one another, but no one seemed to have any ideas. “What is Zetta’s current position?”
“He’s at work,” Aiden replied, tapping away at the laptop in front of him. They all sat around the boardroom table with their computers, desperately clutching at anything that might help them find Addison. “I’ve checked in with our eyes on the ground and he hasn’t left the building so far today.”
“He must be working with someone else,” Owen said. “What about a relative of his father? Have we seen any other names come up in the court case against the prison?”
“Not that I could find,” Quinn replied, blowing a stray strand of hot-pink hair out of her eyes. “We looked into the mother, but I found an obituary for her. Maria Zetta died last year. I also went through a bunch of articles about the case and the only person listed was Michael Zetta.”
“And there were no other relatives listed in the obituary?” Logan asked.
“Let me bring it up. I don’t remember seeing anything else.” Quinn cocked her head. “All it says is that it was written by the ‘Zetta family.’”
“Maybe there’s another obituary?” Rhys said, leaning over to read Quinn’s screen.
Soft clicking filled the room as they searched, the minutes ticking away faster than Logan could stand. “Here we go,” Quinn said. “There was another obituary posted a few days later. It says, ‘Maria is survived by her two sons.’ So Michael must have a brother.”
“Find him,” Logan growled. “Aiden, get in touch with your man on the ground and tell him that we may need to approach.”
Aiden nodded and left the room, tapping at his phone as he walked.
“Look for school records,” Rhys said to Quinn. “We might be able to find the brother’s name through school sporting teams or academic achievements.”
The room was suddenly a flurry of activity, everyone suggesting ways to find the other Zetta brother. A few seconds later Quinn gasped. “I found something. Michael Zetta played tennis for his high school all the way until his senior year.”
“And his brother played, too?” Logan asked.
“No.” She glanced up, her hazel eyes wide. “But someone from Cobalt & Dane did.”
She turned her laptop around to show an old photo of a boy and girl in tennis whites. They had matching jet-black hair and confident smiles. The names printed under the photo were Michael Zetta and Emily Facinelli.
Logan’s heart twisted in his chest as he stared at the photo. She looked much younger in the photo, but he would recognize his assistant anywhere.
“Everybody clear out,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Emily and I need to have a chat.”
17
“WHERE IS SHE?” He braced both hands on the surface of the table, more to stop himself from trembling with rage than to intimidate his pint-sized assistant, Emily.
Right now, controlling himself was taking up all his mental energy, which left little for dealing with this situation calmly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stared up at him with large eyes. Her lips were pulled taut and her hands were folded in her lap.
“You’re telling me you have no idea where Addison is currently?”
“Why would I know where she is? I don’t take care of her schedule.” She picked at the hem of her black pencil skirt, her brow crinkled. “Ask Renee.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s try this.” He showed her the copy of the photo from earlier. “Who are the people in this photo?”
“That’s me,” she said, her voice suddenly wavering. “And that’s my best friend, Michael. We play mixed doubles together.” She paused. “Why do you have an old photo of me?”
“Does Michael have a brother?” The pieces were starting to fall into place, his body buzzing with the possibility that he could make it all right again. That he could save Addison.
Emily nodded. “Yes, he has a brother named Richard.”
“And where does Richard work? It’s important that you tell me, Emily.”
“Umm.” She bit down on her lip. “He was doing some cleaning work for a real estate company. Something to do with building maintenance... I’m not quite sure.”
“Was the company called Comrade Real Estate?”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But I can’t remember the name. It was one of the big companies, I think. He was excited when he got the job because he’d been looking for work on and off for over a year without much luck.”
“It’s very important I find out where he works, Emily. Could you call Michael and find out?”
“Why? What’s going on?” She shook her head. “I don’t see what it has to do with Addison.”
“We think he’s kidnapped her and may intend to harm her.” Saying the words caused his throat to tighten, a lump lodging in his windpipe and blocking anything further from coming out.
“Oh God.” She pressed her hand to her cheek.
Logan nodded and swallowed slowly, taking back control of his body. Now was not the time to let emotion take over; he had to treat this like any other assignment. Stay calm, stay focused. Get the client out alive.
But this wasn’t any other client. This was the woman he loved. And he would get her out alive.
“Okay, of course I’ll call Michael.” Emily jumped up from her chair. “I’ll do it right now.”
* * *
REGRETS RIOTED IN Addison’s mind. She should have taken that first email more seriously; she should have listened to Rhys and Logan. She should have at least told someone where she would be. But the chances of anyone finding her now...well, they were wafer-thin.
“I have to confess, this is so much more satisfying than I thought it would be.” Richard Zetta looked her over, his eyes gleaming in a way that made her skin crawl. He had a laptop resting on an old desk and he typed with one hand since his other hand was occupied by the gun. “I can only hope there is an afterlife so your father can see what he’s done to you.”
Her eyes watered as she tried to scream through the cotton gag. It was useless, of course, since they were alone in a big, empty building. But she couldn’t go down silently. She wouldn’t.
“Do you think I wanted to do this?” Richard asked, his eyes wide and bulging. “No, I wanted my father home. He would never have hurt anyone. He was taking from rich people who had more money than sense so he could pay for my brother and me to go to college.”
Addison squeezed her eyes shut, willing the plastic ties binding her to fall away. But as she wriggled, they burned into her skin. The harsh edges cut her, leaving her skin raw and probably bleeding.
“Don’t shut your eyes!” He hit her again, this time across the cheek, and her head whipped back as the chair rocked.
It teetered and then fell. But there was nothing she could do to brace her fall and she landed hard against the concrete. The pain stole her breath as it shot up her arm like fireworks. Her whole body was ablaze.
“You’re not allowed to ignore me.” He kicked her in the rib cage, piling on more hurt. More pain. “No one is allowed to ignore me anymore because I am the one avenging my father.”
Her throat prickled, warm tears seeping out the edges of her eyes as she lay there bound and immobile. If this was going to be the end, she hoped it would come swiftly. And she hoped, more than anything else, that Logan would somehow know how she felt about him. That she loved him and had done so ever since she was a besotted teenager.
Richard continued to rage at her, but Addison blocked out the sound. She may not know the right way to get out of zip ties, but her mind was her best feature. In that aspect, she was stronger than most. She wouldn’t crumble. She had to think.
Her tongue worked at the gag, trying to push it out of her mouth. Or at the very least, slip it over her lip so that she could get some words out. Without the ability to speak she was at a disadvantage. Rubbing her face against the ground, the fabric rolled out of her mouth.
“Richard, please.” She managed to say the words but her voice was weak and croaky. How long had she been out? “This isn’t going to bring your father back.”
“It’s not about bringing him back,” he snapped. “It’s about doing what’s right.”
He seemed to calm down and refocus. From her angle on the ground she could see him move back toward the desk, and a moment later the clicking of keys resumed.
“And you think hurting me is going to make you feel better? News flash, it won’t.” She glared up at him from her curled position on the floor.
“Oh it will.” He looked down to her. “Okay, we’re going to start with your customer identification number.”
A sharp, stabbing pain started radiating outward from her arm and midsection. Something wasn’t right, a broken bone, maybe. Bruising, possibly internal bleeding. She forced down the swell of nausea in her stomach.
The second she gave him her banking account details she was as good as dead.
“Nothing will ever make those feelings go away,” she said, stalling. “Do what you will, but I promise you that even if you kill me it won’t make the pain and guilt and grief any better. And I’m guessing you know that already.”
He crouched down, resting the gun inches from her head. She could see straight down the black barrel, like it was some rabbit hole into another life. As she waited for the beginning of the end, Addison’s heart pounded hard in her chest. Fighting to stay alive, fighting to fuel her with energy that she had no way of expending.
“Richard Zetta!” His name echoed through the empty room, like a gunshot bouncing off the walls. “Step back and keep the gun where I can see it.”
For a moment Addison wondered if her imagination had taken over and dreamed Logan into existence. Her white knight, as much as she’d always resented him for trying to play that role, was here for her. His footsteps sounded slow and steady as he approached. She even recognized that about him, the careful way he walked. With purpose, with intent.
Richard gripped the gun tighter, his knuckles white. “Well, well, if it isn’t Logan Dane.”
“I don’t have any beef with you,” Logan said in calm, soothing tones. “But I can’t let you hurt her.”
She still couldn’t see
him, but his presence filled the air. It breathed hope into her lungs.
“I’ll shoot her if you come any closer.” Richard waved the gun around but it was clear he’d been spooked. Obviously he had no contingency plan for being discovered. He was alone, whereas Logan would definitely have backup.
“Do I need to call my team in here or will you let her go?” Logan’s voice was honey smooth, as calm as if he were ordering a drink at a bar. No aggression, no fear. He’d done this before and he knew that unnecessary emotion wouldn’t help. He’d told her that once.
“This is not your place,” Richard spat, and he moved to point the gun at Addison.
There was a click, footsteps. More people had entered the room. “We’ll take you down before you even get a shot off, Richard. Lower the gun and we can all walk away.” Logan stepped closer, his boots coming into Addison’s line of sight.
She tried to move but pain engulfed her and she muffled a cry.
“Are you okay, Addi?” he asked as he stepped forward. His boots were covered in the dust that coated the floor, which now lined her throat and lungs.
She coughed. “Yeah, mostly.”
“Fuck both of you,” Richard screamed. “I know who you are, and you’re as bad as she is.”
“We’re just doing our jobs,” Logan said calmly. “Put the gun down.”
In the distance Addison could see another set of feet moving quickly, quietly. Like a ninja. Owen. Richard hadn’t noticed anyone coming up behind him because Logan had his full attention. They must be hoping not to shoot him by catching him unawares.
“You think I won’t pull the trigger?” Richard aimed the gun back down at Addison and she instinctively cringed, clamping her eyes shut. “You think I won’t kill her?”
“If you’d wanted to kill her you would have done it already.” Logan took another step and then another. “I know you’re angry and grieving. But this isn’t the way to fix that.”
Before Richard had the chance to respond, Owen sneaked up behind him and got one bulky arm around his throat. With his other hand he directed Richard’s hand away from her. A shot went off, shattering a window. Glass flashed as it fell to the ground in twinkling shards, the sound echoing around the room.
Mr. Dangerously Sexy Page 17
