He stepped forward, removing a knife from a sheath at his side. I swallowed hard as I stared at that knife, but I refused to cringe back. Was he going to slice my throat? Brand me with little cuts? Mark me somehow?
My heart raced as I waited.
Grabbing my hands, he cut through the bonds with a swift slice.
I stumbled back, the leash dropping to the floor at my feet.
For a moment, I was so stunned, I didn’t move. Then I snapped to my senses and pulled my gaze to his face.
“You’re not a prisoner here,” he announced quietly. “If you want to flee out into the gang-ridden streets of Augusta and take your chances out there, be my guest. I won’t stop you. But you’re much safer here. Like I said, I won’t hurt you.”
He turned away, tossing his sunglasses onto the kitchen counter and pulling the hoodie off his head.
I stared, my heart in my throat, as he slowly turned back to me.
And I got my first good look at The Hacker in person.
The breath snagged in my throat.
To say he was “handsome” wouldn’t be an adequate description. In order to properly gauge The Hacker, a person had to take in all of him, not just his striking features.
Imposing.
Breathtaking.
Impressive.
Masculine.
Powerful-looking.
I let my gaze slowly rake over him, taking in every inch of him. Big and muscular, the man reeked of pure masculinity. He was dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved blue pullover, and black Nikes. I not only felt small and helpless standing before him, but suddenly overly aware of my femininity in a way I never had before. That earlier magnetism that had wafted off him the night he’d captured me in the forest wrapped around me again. My pulse accelerated. My breathing escalated. The man’s allure confounded me. How could I possibly be attracted to this…criminal, or whatever he was?
He endured my scrutiny without comment, the look in his eyes turning wary, as if he expected me to attack him or something.
I glanced back down his impressive body, trying to unnerve him, trying to make him as uncomfortable as he made me, then slowly let my gaze crawl back to his face. The prosthetic eye stared sightlessly back at me, while the natural eye studied me in a way that made me want to squirm. Moments ago, I’d been terrified of this man, afraid of what he would do to me.
But then, he’d freed me.
And now, he was letting me stare at him, letting me see everything that was visible on the outside. As impressive as he was on the outside, what lay beneath the surface of this man? Who was he?
“I’m not a prisoner here?” I repeated, not sure if I believed him.
“If you want to leave, then go.” He waved toward the front door on the opposite end of the living room. “But before you take off, you should know that this is a dangerous city, overrun by gang violence. If you venture out there, you’ll be putting your life in danger.”
I stared up into his striking, aqua-colored eyes. There was no deceit gazing back at me. Just sincerity.
Confusion swept through me. What was going on here? I didn’t understand.
“You don’t expect anything in return for ‘saving’ me?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. You’re free to go if you want. But you’re safer with me. I will protect you, Shannon.”
He wasn’t making any sense. No one bought someone and then just let them go. He would “protect” me from what? From whom?
“I don’t understand.”
He cocked a brow. “What don’t you understand?”
I let out a snort. “No one spends a quarter of a million dollars and expects nothing in return.”
“Ahhh.” He nodded slowly. “What I want in return is for you to give up your investigation into your father’s death. Nothing good will come from it.”
So that was why he’d done it? To keep me from investigating. To keep me quiet.
“You think you can buy my silence? That I will just give up my investigation?”
He huffed. “With you? No. But I would prefer that you did. And I didn’t buy you to keep you silent. I bought you to save you from a fate that might be far worse than death.”
Silence stretched while he let that sink in.
“So I’m free to go whenever I want?”
“Yes.”
I stared at his mouth as he spoke, lips that were thin, but still ample enough to look incredibly soft and kissable. Sexy. Awareness snaked through me, heat pooling in my core.
I jerked my gaze higher, taking in his purely masculine features, the straight nose, the well-defined cheekbones, the strong jaw covered with a thin layer of light brown beard stubble.
God help me, I was so attracted to this man, my body hyperaware of his every move. And I didn’t even know his name. What was wrong with me?
“Just so you know,” he went on softly. “You are wearing a tracking device. Vasquez inserts them in all his prisoners before he sells them so that he, or the buyer, has a way to track you if you escape. So if you do venture out there alone, they will likely find you and bring you back.”
What the hell? I had a tracking device on me somewhere? Ice crept down my spine.
“But you’ll let me go without tracking me?”
“I have no desire to control you. If you would like me to find and remove the tracking device for you, I will.”
He would? I stared up at him in surprise. “Will they track me here?”
“Not likely. I paid for you, so in their eyes, you’re mine. You’re my problem to deal with. But they are criminals, so I wouldn’t put it past them to track you down, kill me, capture you, and resell you. So, I, personally, would feel better if we removed that thing so no one can track you.”
I let out an involuntary shiver. So would I. I wanted the thing out of me. Immediately. “Where is the tracking device at?”
“The back of your neck, most likely.”
I drew in a deep breath, slowly exhaled. “How will you remove it?”
“With a knife.”
I swallowed hard. I’d seen his deadly knife. But I didn’t want anyone tracking me—him or the Flesh King.
“Okay.” I slowly turned around. “I want you to cut it out.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shannon
I waited while he ran a small electronic scanning device over me. When he hovered it over the back of my neck, it bleeped. Beep, beep, beep!
“Yep, it’s in your neck.”
I lifted my hair out of the way, holding it over my right shoulder. “Will this hurt?”
His minty breath teased my nostrils, his words close to my ear as he responded, “You’ll probably feel a little sting. I’m just going to slice the skin and pull it out with tweezers.”
Awareness snaked through me at his closeness. I turned my head, my gaze meeting his. If I was going to allow this man to cut open my neck, I at least wanted to know his name.
“What’s your name?” I blurted.
His lips twitched as he stepped back. “You want to know my name, I want your vow of silence. If I tell you my name, it will be strictly off the record. You won’t repeat it to anyone else.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Right.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and turned away. “Let me sterilize the knife, then I’ll cut out the tracking device.”
He strode into the living room and bounded up the stairs that ran up the far wall, his movements smooth and graceful and beautiful to watch. A balcony opened up overhead with a short hallway leading into the bedrooms above. I stared after him, watching as his hand grazed along the railing before he disappeared into the bathroom.
Holy hell. The man left me breathless. Shaky. Unnerved.
Moments later, he reappeared, bounding down the stairs toward me. I tried not to stare, but my gaze was irresistibly drawn to him, unable to look away. I sucked in a breath as he reached me and paused, showing me a bottle of rubbing alcohol, tweezers, and a Band-Ai
d. “I’ll just dip the blade in alcohol. That should sterilize it.”
Though the idea of being vulnerable and letting him slice into my neck with the knife didn’t exactly thrill me, strangely, I didn’t feel any true fear around him anymore. I no longer believed he had plans to hurt me. In fact, I was beginning to suspect he never had.
He looked into my eyes. “Ready?”
I nodded, quickly turning my back to him. Looking into his eyes too long did strange things to me. Like the sudden pounding of my heart and my current breathlessness.
A pause. Then, “Can you move your hair out of the way?”
I snorted at myself. Of course, you idiot. Move your hair so he can see.
I pulled my hair aside and tensed, waiting.
“Relax,” he whispered, his soft voice tickling my ear and his minty breath flowing over me again. “This will only take a second.”
Awareness snaked through me, heat again pooling in my core. I was embarrassed by my body’s reaction to him. I’d never experienced this before. It was impossible to relax with him so close, his large, powerful body intimidating, imposing, and yet, oh-so-sexy at the same time. His scent flowed over me, purely masculine. God, he smelled good. My breathing quickened. Why was I so aware of him? So attracted to him? This was so, so wrong.
I felt a quick sting, then he plucked the device from my neck with the tweezers. Wiping the wound with alcohol, he pressed a Band-Aid against it.
He stepped back. “All done.”
I turned slowly. That was fast. “Can I see it?”
He opened his palm, showing me the tiny square device.
“That was in my neck?”
“Yes. I’ll reprogram it and keep it for later use if I need to. No one can track you now.”
He strode across the living room, disappearing around the far corner. I hesitated, then followed after him.
I found him sitting at a computer in an office/den area on the other side of the living room. There were several computer monitors on the desk, along with a keyboard and other technical items.
“What’s all that?” I motioned to the monitors.
“Surveillance.”
I glanced at one, studying it more closely. It appeared to be a camera out front of the house. “Do you expect thieves or criminals around here?”
“This is Augusta. Surveillance is necessary.”
Of course. I watched as he set the tiny tracking device on a Styrofoam film on the desktop. Then he opened a small box which turned out to be a micro tool kit. Donning a pair of magnifying glasses, he removed a tool from the kit and lifted the tracking device toward his face.
“You should get some sleep, Shannon.” He glanced at me over the top of the lenses. “There’s three bedrooms upstairs. I’ve already claimed the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Take your pick of the other two. No one will bother you.”
I’ll admit I was dog tired, not having slept much over the past few days, but right now, I was more interested in the man who’d “bought” me and then removed a tracking device from my neck so that the criminals who’d kidnapped me would not be able to track me. I wanted to see what he was going to do with the tracking device. “What about you?”
He turned away and fiddled with the device, using the tiny tool. “I don’t sleep much.”
Feeling emboldened by his obvious lack of desire to hurt me, I stepped up beside him, watching closely as he kept working on the tiny device. “Why don’t you sleep much? Are you too busy committing crimes?”
He let out a snort and shook his head. “No.” He did something else with the tracking device, then set it back on the film. “PTSD.”
For a moment, I thought I hadn’t heard him correctly. PTSD?
I’d done a story last year on the effects of PTSD on veterans. It had been a real eye-opener for me, what soldiers went through during times of war, and how many of them suffered for years afterward.
I didn’t know anything about the dregs, other than the rumors and the scant bit of information I’d found online, which was basically nothing. My curiosity about The Hacker grew. Why did he suffer from PTSD? What had he gone through?
“What is your PTSD from?”
He answered without looking at me. “Too much violence.” He set the magnifying glasses on the desktop and closed the micro tool kit.
Too much violence? And yet, he hadn’t harmed me at all. My curiosity intensified.
“If you tell me your name, I promise I won’t tell anyone else. It will be strictly off the record.”
He stilled. Then he slowly spun the chair to face me, his gaze locking on mine. My pulse accelerated. The Hacker was no fool. If I betrayed him, I had a feeling he would make me suffer for it.
“I promise,” I added. While I wanted to know his name, I strangely had no desire to share it with anyone else.
Silence stretched as he stared at me, his gaze scrutinizing. Awareness snaked through me again, the now-familiar heat pooling in my core. A hot flush came over me, spreading up into my face. Did he know how attracted I was to him? What did he see when he looked at me? A spoiled rich girl? A snobby senator’s daughter? A ruthless reporter intent on her story?
Or possibly—hopefully—a beautiful, sexy woman?
The idea that he might find me attractive made my stomach flutter with unexpected excitement, and made me acutely aware of the slinky, revealing dress I was wearing.
“Noah,” he answered at last.
“Noah?” I repeated.
He turned away abruptly, focusing on the computer screen, then typing something on the keyboard. “Yeah.”
Noah.
His name was Noah. I took that into consideration as I contemplated him. Noah. It suited him. Tall, muscular, intelligent. Sexy.
He appeared to be ignoring me now. Was he? Or was he well aware of my presence, of my every move, but just pretending not to notice?
Honestly, I was confused right now. Should I go upstairs like he suggested and get some sleep? Should I flee out into the streets and try to make my way back home to Atlanta?
Should I pull up a chair and join him at the computer and see what he was doing?
I had to admit his sudden lack of interest in me was a bit of a crusher to my ego. If he’d paid so much money for me, you would think he’d want something in return. A night of passionate sex, maybe? Something besides my silence and my promise to stop investigating my father’s murder.
I stared at his profile, contemplating. Dammit, why was he ignoring me now?
Why did I even care? I should be relieved he hadn’t forced himself on me.
I cleared my throat. “You seem oddly disinterested in your quarter of a million dollar purchase.”
I cringed, my face heating. Had I just said that out loud?
He turned toward me, his brow shooting up. “Would you prefer I take you upstairs and fuck you?”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from the seriousness in his eyes. Noah might be a dreg. A dangerous man. But he was also the sexiest man I’d ever met. I couldn’t quite figure him out. And I couldn’t understand my mixed feelings for him. He scared me, yet he intrigued me. He pissed me off, yet he also aroused me. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him. Was his mouth as soft as it looked?
Good God, Shannon. What’s wrong with you? He’s a dreg.
Maybe so, but he hadn’t once hurt me.
The air thickened with sexual awareness as we continued to stare at each other. My breathing grew shallow. My heart fluttered in a mixture of excitement and awareness and fear. I let my gaze travel down to his mouth, staring in wonder as his tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. I fought back a moan. Was he teasing me? Did he have any idea how much he affected me? How much I longed to lean over and press my lips to his? Why the hell was I so attracted to him?
I jerked my gaze back to his. What was wrong with me? I didn’t get this way around men. This wasn’t like me at all. My last boyfriend had been a total doucheba
g, only interested in me because of my connection to my father. He’d used me to try to gain favor with my father and wiggle his way into the senate. Now I was very choosy about the men I dated, trying to filter out the “users” from the pack, and only dated those who were genuinely interested in me. The sad thing was, I couldn’t recall the last man who’d been genuinely interested in me. The Hacker only wanted me to keep quiet, to give up my search for the truth. So he wasn’t genuinely interested in me, either.
His lips twitched. Amusement? Or discomfort?
Then his gaze slowly traveled down my body, pausing momentarily on my suddenly heaving chest that was barely covered by the thin black dress. He continued downward, studying all of me, then let his gaze crawl back to mine. There was definite appreciation in his eyes now. “Well?”
I squeezed my thighs together as a rush of wetness pooled between my legs. Breathlessness washed over me. How could one sweeping look from him leave me so flustered and filled with longing? In that moment, I wanted him to take me upstairs.
“Well, what?” My face burned.
He lifted a brow, then glanced at the stairs.
My face grew hotter as I stuttered, “N-no! Of course not! God!”
Something indescribable flickered in his natural eye. “Get some rest, Shannon. Tomorrow I’ll take you home.” He waved toward the stairs before turning back to his computer.
I slowly stepped back. I don’t know what had just happened here, but it obviously hadn’t been only one-sided. I’d seen the heat in his gaze. The longing. Had he felt the sexual pull as strongly as I had? If so, he was no longer showing it. He now seemed as disinterested as ever. Like I wasn’t even here. How could he want me one moment, and then just forget about me the next? Was I invisible to him now? Damn him. If he could act like I no longer existed, then I could do the same.
The Hacker Page 10
