“Thank you, Mr. Berezin. I appreciate your kindness.”
“You did the right thing to call us,” he said.
Ari nodded, pressing her legs together to keep from trembling. She was so parched, so thirsty, but she didn’t dare reach for her water glass, lest she knock it over and cause a shootout.
“Would you like a drink?” Berezin gestured toward a decanter of clear liquid—vodka, she guessed.
Ari shook her head, then cursed herself for not knowing the custom. Was she supposed to politely decline the offer? Or was it rude not to accept? She was about to change her mind when the man let out a raucous laugh. He leaned over to the man with the snake tattoo and said something in Russian, making the rest of the men laugh, too.
Fear crept down Ari’s spine, settling like a block of ice in her stomach. She had no idea what they were talking about—killing her and taking the briefcase? Dumping her body out with the restaurant trash? Sending one of these men to follow her home, to brutalize and torture her?
Nowhere to go but through it.
Ari closed her eyes and took one last breath, deep and calming. When she opened her eyes again, they were all watching her, waiting. The room had gone so silent, she heard the ice cubes shifting in their water glasses.
“Gentlemen,” she finally said, digging deep to find her strength. An image of Tasha filled her mind, and she clung to it like a life raft. “You are obviously very busy men.” She set the attaché case on the table with a thunk, making the silverware rattle. “Allow me to get right to the point.”
Chapter Twelve
In Evan’s tank of an SUV, Jared floored it up the Long Island Expressway, weaving through traffic so wildly he was making Evan carsick. No matter; there was no way he’d slow down. Not with Arianne’s life on the line.
“You don’t even know she’s there,” Evan said. He’d shown up at Jared’s first thing this morning, not long after Jared had discovered Arianne missing. Evan had been glued to Jared’s side ever since.
Jared tapped the breaks, then slid into the HOV lane, cutting around a school bus. “It’s the only place she can be. Keep trying her cell.”
Evan picked up Jared’s phone and dialed Arianne. “Straight to voicemail.”
Jared hit the gas, speeding up again. He hadn’t been able to reach her by phone or text all morning. After a little smooth-talking on Jared’s part, Arianne’s doorman had finally revealed that she’d shown up at her home this morning, only to leave again an hour later, dressed for a business meeting.
Jared’s mind was spinning with possibilities, but all of them ended up in the same retched place: Arianne rushing in to save her sister. And Arianne getting herself killed.
I never should’ve fallen asleep last night. Bloody idiot.
Jared’s only saving grace was the fact that he’d remembered the address Trick had given—the strip mall where they were holding Natasha.
If Arianne wasn’t there yet, she’d be showing up soon enough.
“We’re nearly there,” Evan said, tapping the GPS app on his phone. “Take the next exit.”
Five minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot of a dumpy but crowded strip mall. Jared circled the place once, passing the pizzeria, tax preparer, and nail salon, just like Trick had described. The empty storefront that Davidson allegedly owned was at the end, its windows covered in brown paper, a ladder propped up outside to make it look like they were remodeling.
The curtains in the upstairs windows were all drawn.
Jared parked in front of the pizzeria and took in his surroundings. It was midday, and the restaurant and nail salon looked busy. He was grateful for the cover. With any luck, if any of Davidson’s people were watching, Jared could blend into the crowd.
He reached into the backseat for his Knicks cap and pulled it low over his eyes. He was wearing jeans and a plain gray T-shirt—nothing that would make him stand out.
“What’s our plan, mate?” Evan asked.
“Stay here,” Jared said, opening his door. “Lie low. I can’t ask you to risk it, Evan. I need to do this alone.”
Evan scoffed, already hauling himself out of the SUV. “Piss off, Frodo. I’m coming with you.”
“No.” Jared got out and tossed Evan his keys. “You’re staying here in case this thing goes sideways.”
“In case? Jared, your girlfriend is missing. Her sister has been kidnapped. The Russian mafia is after some bloody dagger that’s been hidden in your office for years… we passed sideways a long time ago, mate. This? This is a full-on clusterfuck.”
“Make sure your phone is on,” Jared said, ignoring Evan’s rant. “I’ll text you every fifteen minutes. If more than twenty minutes pass—”
“Call the police? Which we should’ve done days ago?”
Jared shook his head, holding back his frustration. This thing really was a clusterfuck. “No. Call my family. Because if you don’t hear from me, chances are I’m—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Cut the melodrama. I’m coming with—”
Jared slammed his hand against the hood. He was grateful for Evan’s help, for his unwavering loyalty, but Evan’s involvement ended right here. He would not let the man risk his life. It was non-negotiable, and Evan bloody well knew it.
With a defeated sigh, Evan finally promised he’d stay put, and Jared was off, charging headlong into the inferno.
Chapter Thirteen
Jared didn’t like the covered windows. He felt as though a hundred eyes were on him, tracking his every move, planning a monumental ambush.
Bloody hell.
He walked brusquely past the front entrance of Davidson’s storefront, rounding the corner and heading for the back service entrance.
He’d never been a gun person, but at the moment, armed with no more than his cell phone, Jared was cursing his lack of weaponry. Intimidating Trick yesterday had been easy—the man was a first rate twat. The very sight of him had inspired violence, no guns required.
But today, Jared was walking into the situation blind. For all he knew, Davidson’s entire crew—along with the Russians—was hiding inside, waiting for Jared to show up so they could pump his body full of lead.
Jared shook off his fear. He had to think, not work himself into a frenzy. His eyes scanned the back of the building for something he could use to defend himself if necessary—a pipe, a rock, a glass bottle—but no luck.
The way inside was through a set of heavy steel service doors. There were no outside knobs or handles, but one of the doors was propped open with something that Jared hoped was a loose brick. Alas, it was only an old work boot.
Useless.
Leaving the boot in place, he cautiously pulled the door open wider and peered inside. A dim hallway led all the way up to the storefront, and just before that, a side corridor branched off to the right. Inside the doors on Jared’s immediate left was a staircase—probably access to the second-floor apartment.
Jared was about to slip inside and find out when a door opened at the top of the stairs. A woman stepped out onto the landing—Lilah. He recognized her from the fake security interview he’d endured at FierceConnect, when she and Keens had posed as investigators for Hastings in order to get intel on Jared.
“I’ll be right back, so don’t try any shit,” Lilah said to someone inside the apartment. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” another woman shouted back.
Natasha.
Jared released the door and stayed outside, out of sight, but leaned in close to listen. His heart rate kicked up. Was Lilah the only one upstairs with Natasha? Where was Arianne?
He heard Lilah shut and bolt the apartment door, and then she headed down the stairs.
Fucking hell.
Jared braced himself, his back to the outside door, fists clenched, praying that Lilah didn’t exit out the back. There was no cover back there. If she came out, he’d have to…
The breath whooshed out of his lungs. Sh
e was heading the other way.
Jared pressed his ear to the gap between the doors again, listening as Lilah’s footsteps receded up the dim hallway. She headed into the store, probably out the front door.
Jared slipped inside, dashing off a quick text to Evan as he moved up the staircase: I’m in. Natasha upstairs. No Arianne. Woman in yellow heading out front—watch her.
Evan texted back immediately: Saw her. She got into a car w/ 3 men.
Leaving? Jared asked.
No. Looks like they’re just talking.
Jared told Evan to keep him posted, then continued up the stairs.
The door at the top was bolted on his side, but otherwise unlocked. Jared turned the deadbolt and went in quietly, making a quick scan of his surroundings. He was standing in the kitchenette of a small, grungy apartment with wall-to-wall office-style carpeting. The ceilings were of the cheap drop-tile variety, the walls painted a flat gray. It was probably a converted office building—it wasn’t hard to imagine the place divided by cubicles.
There were no doors on the cupboards, and beneath the sink, Jared spotted a decent-sized toolbox. He grabbed the biggest, heaviest hammer he could find, but as he lifted it out, a screwdriver toppled to the floor with a clang.
Jared froze.
“I said I’m not hungry.” Natasha’s voice echoed off the bare walls. After a moment with no other response, Jared breathed a sigh of relief. For now, it seemed they were alone.
He followed the sound of her protests to a room off the main living area. There was no door, and the opening gave Jared a clear view of the entire room. There was nowhere for anyone to hide.
Natasha was sitting on an old couch cushion on the floor by the window, eyes closed, her wrist handcuffed to the leg of a massive steel desk that was bolted to the floor. The damn desk was a tank; it looked like it’d been there for decades. Natasha was still in her Perk café shirt, her face streaked with tears and makeup, her hair disheveled, but Jared couldn’t see any obvious signs of physical abuse.
Still, the sight chilled him to the core.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, unable to keep the raw emotion from his voice. She was so young, so vulnerable… it took every ounce of willpower for Jared not to take that hammer and smash the walls and window to smithereens. There was no telling what he’d do to Davidson’s skull if and when the man showed up.
Natasha opened her eyes and turned toward him.
“Jared?” Her face flooded with recognition and relief.
“It’s me, sweetheart.” Reigning in his anger, Jared crossed the room to inspect the cuffs. Heavy duty police cuffs. He’d have to take the desk apart.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Natasha nodded. She looked exhausted, but otherwise okay.
“Where’s Ari?” she asked.
Jared didn’t want to lie to the girl, but he needed her to stay calm and quiet. “Probably on her way.”
“Probably?”
Jared grabbed her shoulders, meeting her eyes. “Natasha, I need you to focus. My priority is getting you out of here. Can you help me do that?”
Her eyes glazed with tears, but she nodded.
“I need to get the toolbox from the kitchen. Sit tight.” He retrieved the toolbox, rifled through it for a large screwdriver and a few wrenches, then crouched down to inspect the desk. It was an old bastard, held in place with heavy, rusted hardware that probably dated back to the Great Depression.
“Did you see Lilah?” she whispered. “She said she was going to get food. She never leaves me alone for more than a few minutes.”
“She’s outside. We’ll be done before she gets back, I promise.” Jared tried loosening one of the bolts—no luck. “Is Lilah the one who took you?”
“No. It was Arianne’s boss,” Natasha said. “Lilah works for the same guy. They said Ari’s a thief, Jared. Like, a professional thief.”
“Don’t listen to anything they tell you,” Jared said. Again, he didn’t want to lie, but this was a conversation Arianne needed to have with her sister directly. His only job right now was to keep them safe—starting with rescuing Natasha.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened the other night,” he said, trying to keep her calm as he struggled for more leverage with the bolt.
“I was taking out the trash at work, and they just came out of nowhere. Davidson and this other guy—Victor? No, Vincent, that’s what they said. They grabbed me and shoved me into the car… I didn’t even scream. I wanted to, but I just… I couldn’t. I was too scared.” Her words had dropped to a whisper.
Jared grabbed her foot, giving her an affectionate squeeze. “Of course you were scared, love. You were bloody kidnapped. But you’re also smart and brave, just like your sister. Which is why I know you’re going to be just fine.”
Natasha blew a breath into her bangs. “I guess.”
“I can do better than guess. I know. Here, I’ve got a job for you.” Jared handed over his phone. “My mate Evan is keeping watch outside. If anyone turns back our way, he’ll text us. Keep an eye on that for me.”
Natasha nodded, and Jared went at the desk again, attacking the ancient metal beast. After ten laborious minutes, he’d only managed to loosen two of the four bolts. Evan hadn’t yet texted, but Lilah or the others could come back at any moment.
Worse, they might spot Evan first, putting the whole plan in jeopardy.
Jared needed to pick up the pace, or this rescue operation might turn into an all out hostage situation. He still didn’t know where Arianne was, but she had to be on her way. Any other possibility was too horrid to consider.
“Jared?” Natasha’s voice yanked him out of his despair, refocusing his attention on the mission.
“Right here, love.” He dropped the wrench and wiped his hands on his shirt. “I need your help again. See how this thing is attached to the floor?”
Natasha nodded.
“We need to yank it out,” he said. “Get underneath the desk here, and push up with your legs as hard as you can. I’m going to pull from the top. Ready?”
“Let’s do it,” she said.
Jared stood up and grabbed the top of the desk, and together they pushed and yanked until the leg finally separated from the floor, leaving a gap just wide enough to slide the cuff through.
“Let’s go,” Jared said, helping her up.
“Brilliant idea. Get me the fuck out of here.”
He suppressed a laugh. She really was Arianne’s sister.
Jared took point, leading her out of the apartment and down the stairs. They’d just reached the ground floor, steps away from the steel doors that would lead them to freedom.
Natasha was right next to him, her shallow, nervous breaths hot on his arm. He reached for the doorknob, felt the cold, polished steel against his palm as he turned and pushed…
From the dim corridor behind them, the unmistakable click of a cocked firearm shattered the silence.
Jared froze.
A hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, as another pressed the gun to the back of his head.
“That’s far enough, Blackwell.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Let the girl go, Davidson.” Jared raised his hands above his head, careful not to make any sudden moves. With the barrel of a loaded gun jammed into the base of his skull, it was nearly impossible for him to think, let alone talk. But he had to stay calm. Natasha’s life depended on it.
“You’ve got me,” Jared said. “You can have my entire art collection. The cars. Anything you want. Just let Natasha walk out that door.”
“You think I need your permission, asshole?” Davidson smacked the cap off Jared’s head. “You think I’m here to bargain with you?”
“It’s all yours,” Jared continued. “I’ll stay as collateral—no cops, no tricks. Just let her go. You don’t need her.”
“What I need is for you to shut the fuck up. Keep those hands where I can see them. Both of you. Now move.” Davidson shoved Ja
red and Natasha up the corridor and into the storefront.
It was a dull beige room with dusty metal shelving along the walls, a sales counter on one side, and a few chairs near the front windows. It looked like it had been abandoned for a decade.
Davidson’s people were there, but the sunlight filtering through the papered windows turned everyone into silhouettes.
Jared blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The sight that finally came into focus sucker-punched him right in the gut.
On his knees before Lilah, his wrists and ankles bound behind him, Evan met Jared’s gaze across the dim space.
Jared’s heart dropped to his feet, his insides icy with dread.
Evan’s mouth was bloody, and his eyes were filled with shame, as though he’d somehow disappointed Jared.
Jared shook his head, barely aware he was doing it. He couldn’t speak around the lump lodged in his throat.
Why didn’t you stay in the car, mate?
On Jared’s right, Natasha clung to his arm, her whole body trembling. Jared tried to step in front of her, to use himself as a shield, but Davidson clamped down on his shoulder again, yanking him backward.
A man he recognized as Lilah’s fake security firm partner—Keens, no doubt—shoved Jared to his knees, right next to Evan. Davidson grabbed Natasha and pushed her down, too. He ordered Lilah to bind their wrists and ankles with duct tape.
Trick lingered in the background doing nothing, the sleazy bastard. He wouldn’t even meet Jared’s eyes.
Jared, Evan, and Natasha were screwed. All three of them were on their knees, facing the firing squad. And Jared still had no idea what had happened to Arianne.
It made him sick with dread.
“I don’t get you, Blackwell,” Davidson said. “You and your buddy here, rushing in to save this girl. She’s just like her sister—hardly worth the trouble.”
“You’re a damn monster,” Jared said. “All of you. You can’t—”
Davidson cracked Jared squarely in the temple with the butt of his gun. Before he could register what had happened, Davidson clocked him again. The room spun, and Jared listed forward, color fading from his vision. He was so close to passing out—he almost welcomed the oblivion. But the sound of Natasha’s soft whimpers forced him to focus, to shove the pain deep down inside and lock it up. As long as he got out of this alive, he could feel the pain later. All of it. The fear, the ringing in his ears, the skull-splitting headache. Right now, he had to stay conscious. He had to stay with Natasha and Evan.
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 45
