Devereaux Billionaires Complete Series: Books 1-4

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Devereaux Billionaires Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 33

by Mallory Crowe


  “Can I offer you a ride, Ms. Briggs?” asked Ken.

  “Oh, no thanks. Michael already has a car on the way.”

  He stepped in closer and held out a hand. “Thanks for your help anyway. I do appreciate your willingness to call your evening short on account of me.”

  She hesitantly reached out to shake his hand, but she knew her mistake immediately. His fingers wrapped tightly around her palm and he pulled her in close. She opened her mouth to scream, but only empty air came out as a pain more intense than anything she’d ever felt shot through her back and up her spine. Her legs gave out and Ken wrapped his arms around her as though hugging a longtime friend.

  “There, there,” he muttered as he started to maneuver her closer to a black car parked in front of the building. “The pain will go away soon.”

  She could just maneuver her eyes enough to see him tuck a stun gun back into his pocket before going back to his hug.

  He opened the back door and all pretenses fled as he jammed her into the seat as quickly as possible. She was just starting to regain control of her limbs as he climbed in next to her and slammed the door shut.

  The car took off into traffic and Lori realized Ken wasn’t alone. Someone was driving. But when she looked up to the driver’s seat, she didn’t recognize the large man with dusty brown hair who wove through the evening traffic.

  Ken reached around her and patted at her pockets before he pulled out her phone. When he got to her lock screen, he dangled the device in front of her and pressed something cold and metallic against the back of her neck.

  Lori, slowly and as non-threateningly as possible, pushed herself up to a sitting position. She couldn’t tell whether he was holding the Taser or a gun to her neck, but it really didn’t matter. Her heart raced a thousand miles a minute as she tried to choke down her fear. “What do you want me to do?” she asked softly. They were surrounded by people and cars. If she could get one second of distraction, she could try to hop out of the car and make a run for it.

  “Unlock your phone and send a text message to Michael. Do it now and quickly and you won’t get hurt again. Understand?”

  She nodded as she reached for the phone with trembling hands. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. The car hit a pothole and the metal jammed deeper into her neck. She forced herself to unlock the screen and pull up the text application. Please don’t have a panic attack. If she started to freak out, he’d probably kill her right on the spot. She needed to buy as much time as possible.

  Once the screen was open, he moved even closer to see. Lori figured her shudder was suitably masked by her trembling.

  “Now write exactly what I say. Emergency. Can’t go out. Drinking with friends.”

  She forced herself to do as he said. As soon as the last word was down, his free hand reached forward and hit the Send button before he yanked the phone from her hands. He finally backed off a bit and rolled down the back window just a crack before he tossed her phone out.

  As Lori watched her one possible way of contacting help clatter onto the car-packed pavement, the panic truly set in.

  “Something’s wrong.” Michael jumped up and ran for his door. He tried to call Lori, but it went straight to voicemail. Damn it, this woman was so attached to technology, she never left her phone off.

  Luke ran after him and caught up as Michael was pounding on the button for the elevator. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Lori is in trouble. She just texted me that she’s canceling tonight and is getting drinks instead with friends.”

  The elevator finally arrived, and Michael punched in Evelyn’s number as they got on.

  “Hey, I know you two are having a good time and all, but is her blowing you off to see friends really reason to call Evelyn?” asked Luke.

  “She doesn’t drink, Luke. It makes her sick.” Evelyn picked up on the first ring, and Michael didn’t wait for a greeting. “You need to find Lori. Right now. She just messaged me that she’s going out for drinks.”

  Evelyn didn’t share Luke’s skepticism. “I’m on it. My guy should have a location on her phone in the next ten minutes.”

  Fuck. If her phone was off, would tracing it even work? “Where would she be? Have you talked to her today? What happened that could’ve scared her? She wasn’t supposed to meet Kemmerling, was she?” If she was, she sure as hell wouldn’t tell him.

  “She didn’t have any other plans to meet with Ken,” said Evelyn. “If this is related to the Thirteen Stars, we have to assume it’s probably the same guy who got to Grayson.”

  “What the hell do you mean probably the same guy? I thought we still weren’t sure if it was a suicide! And these guys have money spilling out of their asses. Why wouldn’t they just hire different people? Are you telling me that the entire fucking FBI doesn’t know what to do?”

  The elevator doors opened in the middle of his tirade, but he didn’t care who heard him. He stormed through the lobby, not looking to see whether Luke was following. “Tell me where to go. You asked for my help and I’ve done everything you wanted. Now tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!”

  There was a pause on the other end as Michael pushed open the doors to his building and stood in the cool night air for a moment, completely lost. Where was he supposed to go? Her apartment? He didn’t know what he was looking for. What he was doing...

  “Listen carefully to me, Michael. There are a few details I didn’t tell you about our investigation into Grayson’s death. Mostly speculation that we couldn’t prove. We think Grayson’s killer was inexperienced. Not a professional. The note written was cliché. Not consistent with actual notes we have on record for similar cases. Tell me exactly what her text message said.”

  Michael pulled the phone away from his ear and read it back to her.

  “Okay, that isn’t enough to make a definite analysis, but it could very well be the same guy. If he’s going to do something to her, he’ll do it at a place familiar to both her and him.”

  “Grayson’s,” said Michael to his brother as he took off running.

  “Michael, stay where you are!” ordered Evelyn. “I’ve contacted the NYPD and they are sending cars to her apartment and to Grayson’s. Whoever this man is, he’s armed, dangerous, and not sure what he’s doing. He’s unpredictable and I don’t want you or Lori getting hurt.”

  “Too late,” muttered Michael as he ran. He didn’t hang up the phone, but set it in his pocket just in case Evelyn needed to track him.

  Grayson lived just three blocks away. Michael would get there long before the police ever did. Footsteps sounded behind him and Michael realized Luke was behind him. Good. At least he didn’t have to go in alone.

  He kept his breathing controlled as he hit the second block and forced himself to run even faster. He swerved and dived between pedestrians as he got closer and closer to the building in his sights. He didn’t wait for the doorman to open the door, instead pulling it open and bolting straight for the elevator. If they wanted to call the police, he was all for that. He hit the button for the roof and stared at the doors, willing them to close.

  Luke caught up just in time and there was a brief moment of rest as the elevator rose to Grayson’s floor. “What exactly are we going to do?” he asked between pants.

  Michael didn’t answer. He didn’t have a plan. Find Lori was steps one through ten.

  “Well, did you even consider what you were going to do if someone’s about to throw her off a roof?” snapped Luke.

  Michael ran a hand through his hair. Damn it. There wasn’t time to plan. “I’ll think of something.”

  Luke reached behind him and pulled out a gun. Michael took a step back as he recognized their father’s old pistol. “How long have you been carrying that around?”

  “Since the sons of bitches tried to kill Emma,” said Luke. “I’m not going to be caught off guard.” He flipped the safety off and handed it, butt first, to Michael, making sure it was aimed toward the floor. “I’m assumin
g you still know how to use it.”

  Michael nodded as he gripped the gun. He hadn’t been to the range recently, but growing up, Luke, Rourke, and he had spent countless hours at their homemade shooting range on the property. “I remember. Evelyn said the police would be here in minutes. All we have to do is find her.”

  Luke rested his hands on his knees as he continued to catch his breath. “And you trust Evelyn?”

  “For fuck’s sake. Whatever is going on between the two of you, I need you to shut the hell up about it! Lori is here somewhere and in danger, okay? Yes, I trust Evelyn.”

  Luke stepped back as the doors opened to the small landing before the roof.

  Michael held the handgun in front of him and peered around the corner before he stepped off the elevator. When he reached the door to the roof, he took one steadying breath before he pulled open the door and stepped back out into the night.

  “Keep going.” Ken shoved another hand into her back.

  Lori stared at the menacing elevator in front of her as dread threatened to swallow her whole. No. She was about to lose any opportunity she’d have to get help. When they’d reached Grayson’s building, she assumed there would at least be a doorman to hear her scream for help. But this wasn’t the front entrance. It was a back service door and elevator that she didn’t even know existed.

  Once she got on that dark, dank elevator, there was no going back. There was only going...up. No. She wasn’t letting Ken throw her off the building like he did to Grayson. She would scream and scratch and claw...

  The Taser hit her in the back again, sliding in under her sweater to the bare skin right above her jeans. The large driver caught her and pulled her into the elevator before she could tumble back to the ground.

  Soon enough, the doors slid shut. She was locked in with two homicidal maniacs.

  “I am sorry about this,” said Ken. “But you have to understand that I need to clean up this mess.”

  Lori closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. On regaining control of her still spasming muscles.

  “When my guy I had monitoring Grayson told me he was working with the FBI, I couldn’t let the others find out. He was here on my recommendation. I was responsible for him. And normally you’d be safe, but I know exactly how capable you are. If Grayson had anything on us hidden in his apartment, you’d connect the dots. And I can’t trust your billionaire boy toy to keep you in line.”

  That did earn him a glare from her. She tried to give him her best go fuck yourself stare.

  “Oh, you didn’t know? Michael isn’t the white knight you thought.” The doors opened and he was pulled out of his own gloating. “But you don’t need to worry about that. Might as well go out still loving him. Who am I to get in the way of young love?”

  As the lug pulled her along, she braced herself for the stunning and terrifying view of the city from the roof, but instead all she saw was a hallway. They weren’t going to the roof...

  “They aren’t here!” screamed Michael.

  “Hey, keep it together.” Luke glanced over the side of the roof at the street. “They might not be here yet, okay? Maybe we beat them.”

  “Or they could be anywhere else in the city. This was just an educated hunch from Evelyn.”

  “Fine. We’ll use Evelyn. What did she say about this guy who led her here?”

  Michael tried to think back to their conversation. “She said this guy was cliché.” What the hell was a cliché killer? Stereotypical? “Evelyn said the guy wasn’t creative. The suicide note he wrote for Grayson was something you’d see in a movie. It makes her think he’s not experienced in murder. That’s why she thinks he’d go somewhere that he and his vic—Lori would be familiar with.”

  Luke slammed his palm at his forehead and strode back to the door they’d propped open with a discarded pop can. “Women don’t jump, Michael.”

  Michael followed him. “What?”

  “In movies. You said this guy is taking what he’s seen in a few TV shows and applying it to real life, right? Well, in movies, and real life, women aren’t known for jumping off buildings.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “They take pills.”

  Lori clenched and unclenched her fist as Ken filled a glass of water and dropped a handful of pills inside. She made sure that she didn’t move too much and kept her weight on the lug. Hopefully, if neither man knew how much she’d recovered from the last hit of the Taser, they wouldn’t notice how much stronger she was now.

  Except judging by how fast the pills were dissolving in the water, she would have to make her move sooner rather than later.

  “This won’t be as quick as your uncle,” muttered Ken as he poured in a few more pills. “But it should be much less painful. I promise.”

  She needed to buy time. The more control she had over herself, the better chance she’d have of surviving. “Did you hurt my uncle?”

  “I tried not to. I’m just in a tight spot here. Grayson and I have always had a side deal. In exchange for me bringing him into the fold, he’d set aside a portion of the returns as a sort of thank-you fund for us to split. The other members are already upset with me for agreeing to take on the Devereaux brothers. If they knew what Grayson and I had arranged, I’d be dead. Screw the FBI arresting me. I’d never even make it to whatever minimum security place they’d send me to.”

  “Better him dead than you?” she spit out, not even trying to hide her disgust. So much greed. “What did you even need the extra money for anyway? You already have billions.”

  His eyes glazed over and for a second, he seemed to look past her. Lori took the opportunity to subtly shift her weight, judging how fast she could spring away if she had the chance. But soon enough, Ken’s attention was back on her. “Enough talking. I have a late-night meeting tonight with some friends.”

  He picked up the glass of water as the lug wrenched her arms behind her back. Ken grabbed her chin in his meaty palm and tried to pry her mouth open, but Lori kicked out at his shin.

  He barely ducked away as a few drops of water sloshed over the glass. Shooting her an annoyed glance, he motioned for the lug to adjust his hold. In order for him to do that, he’d have to let her go, though. She braced herself for her chance, and as soon as the lug’s grip loosened, her elbow shot out toward his face even as she started to run for the door. She didn’t connect with his face, but he must’ve jerked back because he didn’t have a chance to grab her as she skittered away. Before she reached the door, Ken moved to block her path.

  Desperation set in as she adjusted her course and ran behind the kitchen island, searching for any sort of weapon she could use to fight her way out before they brought out the Taser again. She didn’t risk the few precious seconds it would take to glance over her shoulder as she reached the cabinets and pulled drawers open, desperately searching for a knife or anything she could use against the men.

  On the third drawer, she struck gold. She reached in and grabbed two knives as the now all-too-familiar sting of electricity shot through her. Her body went limp and she tumbled to the floor. One of the knives clattered on the tile next to her.

  But not both. Somehow, even through the shock, one of the blades had remained in her hand.

  She wiggled away, trying to draw attention to her feet as she pushed the small steak knife into the sleeve of her sweatshirt, but in just a second the lug was on her. He grabbed her ponytail and hauled her up. Instinctively, her free hand tried to reach up and stop him, but her weak muscles only raised it a few inches before falling back at her side. Damn it. Even if she did have a weapon, how was she supposed to fight off two guys like this?

  Ken wasn’t going to take any chances this time. “Hold her with one arm and tilt her head with the other,” he ordered.

  The lug wrapped an arm over her waist, trapping her arms at her sides, and then pulled her ponytail harder until her neck was at the best angle for the poisonous drink to be poured down her throat.

 
“This won’t look like a suicide,” she slurred. “There was a struggle. Defensive wounds.” All the freaking marks on her body where she’d been shocked.

  “We’re following the plan!” shouted Ken as he once again picked up the glass and approached her. She was determined as all hell to keep her mouth shut, but he covered her nose, and in moments, her traitorous body gasped for air. He took his chance and started to pour. She refused to swallow, and it sloshed out around her face and down her shirt.

  He stopped pouring and held a hand over her mouth the keep the foul liquid inside, waiting for her inevitable need for air to do his work for him. But as she fought her need to breathe, the sweetest sound she’d ever heard came to her ears. The sound of a key in the lock.

  Ken heard it, too, and his hand dropped from her mouth. Lori didn’t waste a second as she spit the water at his face. Ken screamed as he rubbed at his eyes, and she wiggled her arm until the knife fell from her sleeve and her palm wrapped around the handle.

  “Lori!” shouted a voice that made her heart swell.

  Michael was here.

  Michael was going to kill him. Red rage filled his vision as he pointed his father’s gun at the stranger holding onto Lori. “Take your hands off her,” he ordered.

  Luke stayed behind him, which was probably best, considering Michael was planning to shoot the second Lori was out of the way. “The police will be here any second,” said Luke. “There is no way out of this. But if you let her go and step away slowly, things will go smoother for you.”

  The man adjusted his grip on Lori so one arm was around her throat and the other around her upper chest, effectively using her as a shield. “Hey, I don’t have anything to do with this.” He motioned to a terrified-looking Ken with his head. “He’s doing this. Said it was easy and the money was good. I’m just the driver.”

 

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