by E. M. Gayle
Somehow, I thought living with Bill would change everything. And I guess it did a little. But more and more I felt that same loneliness I could never escape, creeping back in. I dressed quickly in my pajamas and slid into ‘our’ bed and laid there staring at the ceiling. Self-doubt had become a real thing lately and it was beginning to affect my sleep. I also felt guilty for feeling resentful that he went on a lot of mission trips. Helping others less fortunate was a vital duty and I had no right to complain.
Although why I couldn’t go along with him made no sense to me.
As I laid there contemplating the pros and cons of accompanying him on these trips, I must have fallen asleep because I felt someone shaking me.
“Wake up!” he demanded, his voice gruffer than usual.
“Leave me alone,” I whined, not at all eager to open my eyes. I was too tired. I just wanted to sleep more.
“You need to get up now. The boss wants to see you.”
What?
My eyes snapped open.
Fear shot through me when my gaze landed on the stranger leaning over me in my bed.
Wait.
I turned left and right, searching for details, but they were all foreign. This wasn’t my room. That lamp wasn’t mine. Nor was that chair in the corner. Or that couch near the windows. Those curtains weren’t familiar either.
“What’s going on?” I scrambled across the bed and slammed my back against the nearby wall. While this bedroom was easily double the size of my own, it still had only one exit and the hulking stranger next to the bed stood between me and it. “Where am I?”
“That’s not important. You need to come with me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you answer my questions.”
The response I got wasn’t a good sign. He slowly slid his suit jacket to the side and revealed the gun holstered at his side. Its appearance was enough to jolt my memory. It was the same one I’d seen in the car. Outside Alex’s building.
Alex.
Jesus. I scrubbed my face with my hands and forced back the threatening flood of tears. I must have been dreaming.
I recognized the man standing in front of me now. He’d been one of the FBI agents who confronted me, the one to show me his badge. Only he wasn’t—
“You aren’t with the FBI, are you?”
“The boss is waiting. I don’t want to hurt you, but we need to go now.”
I wanted to stop and weigh my choices, figure out a plan. But there wasn’t enough time. I didn’t want to test what my captor would do with his gun if I pushed right now.
“Where are we?” I asked, stalling anyway.
He didn’t respond. He simply stood there waiting for my compliance.
Fine. If I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this dude, I needed to see Bill. But first, “Fine. But you can tell Bill he can wait long enough for me to have a bathroom break, right?” My stomach was churning and I kind of felt like throwing up.
The big talker nodded. Guessing that was the only indication I would get, I turned toward the door next to the closet. Opening it I was surprised to find a vast space covered in what looked like expensive marble and gold fixtures.
What the hell?
I couldn’t dwell on the space for long because my stomach roiled violently enough I had to make a run for the toilet. I dropped to my knees and lost all contents from my stomach and then some. Heave after heave until I was wrung dry. When I collapsed against the cool tile I wanted to cry. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was some kind of a miracle I wasn’t already.
Why did this have to happen? I never wanted to face my fake husband ever again. Not without a piece of bulletproof glass between us. He should have been in jail. He’d kidnapped a child. Been arrested for multiple counts of polygamy. Clearly, the local justice system was as corrupt as he was if they let him go.
I dragged myself to my feet and quickly washed up. I’d barely finished rinsing my mouth when the big dude appeared in the doorway.
“We go now,” he said.
His odd sounding vernacular gave me a strange vibe. He didn’t sound exactly dumb. No, more like a hint of an accent. It was hard to tell when he kept his words to a bare minimum and/or just grunted.
“Do we have to?” I asked, pressing my hand to my stomach again. “I’m really not feeling well.”
“Yes.”
I sighed. Again with the monosyllable one-word answers. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and saw about what I expected. Pale, ghostly white skin, blood shot eyes, smeared makeup and a rat’s nest for hair.
Bill should be thrilled we aren’t together anymore. I looked like shit.
“Give me one more second.” I splashed some water on my face and hair, grabbed a tissue and cleaned around my eyes. I shouldn’t care about my appearance and actually I didn’t. Not because of that asshole anyway. I couldn’t shake the—
My gaze shot to my captor in the mirror.
“You fucking drugged me. That’s why I feel like this and can barely figure out what happened.”
He lifted his shoulders in an I-don’t-care shrug and I wanted to dive for his face. The urge to claw his eyes out grew stronger than before. Only I had no idea where we were or how or if I could get out. And there was the matter of the gun he kept flashing—on purpose most likely.
Dick.
Right now my head felt like a cotton-filled maze. I needed to get that clear so I could formulate a plan. With my face as good as it was going to get, I smoothed down my clothes and faced the man still glaring at me.
“I guess I’m ready.”
He rolled his eyes and stepped to the side.
I took that as my indication that I was to precede him and walked back into the bedroom. Halfway through the bathroom door, he grabbed my arm and used it to propel me in the direction of the bedroom door.
Lovely.
Kidnapped, drugged, ordered around and now being led to—what—the slaughter? Like a child? Anger bit at my skin like a thousand tiny ants all trying to get a piece of me. It both unnerved and fueled me. Fine. If Bill wanted a confrontation, I would give him one. I would not go quietly.
Out in the hall, I stumbled forward as I tried to keep pace. But it was my surroundings that caught my notice. The plush carpet underneath me felt incredibly padded and the walls were covered in wallpaper that resembled real gold. And the light fixtures. Good God they dripped with so many crystals the light sparkled as we passed each one.
“Where are we? Some sort of fancy hotel?”
What the hell was Bill up to and how in the hell did he afford such accommodations? Of course, my question went unanswered as I was practically dragged to a door at the other end.
We halted in front of the door. “You go in.”
I rolled my eyes. I was definitely getting the impression that English was not this dude’s primary language. I shuddered to think of where Bill had started recruiting his security. If he was involved in some sort of international—
Who was I kidding? My former fake husband could be anyone. Maybe not even a US Citizen. How would I know? Considering I’d been left in the dark and didn’t actually know who Bill Bennett was or where he came from…
“Go in,” he repeated.
I turned and glared at him. “Stop telling me what to do. I’ll go in when I’m damn good and ready.”
“You go in now.” He opened the door and shoved me forward.
I tried not to stumble but the big shit had caught me off guard. “Mother fuck—”
“Such language from a beautiful woman. How very American of you. Oh well. I’m sure we can do something to break that. I am, however, happy to see you’ve finally gotten out of bed. It was about time, don’t you think?”
Somehow I didn’t fall, not even when my body locked up at the sound of a voice I didn’t recognize. I did, however, take a moment to steady myself before turning around to face the unknown.
I was met by a man with striking looks. Dark hair, no
se slightly too big for his face, closely trimmed beard and mustache in the same rich color as the hair on top of his head. No gray I noted. And the most striking blue eyes I’d ever seen. And this wasn’t the first time I had seen them. He was…
Shit. My memory blanked. I couldn’t remember his name even though it was right on the tip of my tongue. Ugh, why couldn’t I remember?
As my brain tried to focus on his name, my surroundings began to sink in. We were in a gigantic pool room with the most inviting crystal blue water I’d ever seen. Round tables surrounded the pool deck and the one closest to me was covered in a variety of breakfast foods laid out expertly with silver chafing dishes, exquisite bone china and sterling silver utensils. Everything from fresh fruit and yogurt to eggs served at least three ways and accompanied by sausage, bacon and Canadian ham.
My mouth watered looking over the spread. In fact, everywhere I looked I saw nothing but money and opulence.
“Where are—” Before I could finish forming the question, the view from the windows that surrounded the room came into sight. Water. Everywhere. No land. I looked from the windows to the man. Back and forth, struggling to put my thoughts into words.
We were on a goddamned boat and I knew exactly which one. That big ass Russian one. From the party.
I swung back to the table where the man sat lounging, looking far too smug for his own good. “You’re Viktor Sokolov.” It felt a little like stating the obvious, but I was proud I’d finally put the name to the face. Plus, I was trying not to freak out about being on a boat in the middle of what looked like nowhere with a strange foreigner and no Bill in sight.
He nodded, a weird smile across his face. “And you are Harper Allison Conrad Bennett.”
The sound of my full name brought on complete panic as I frantically searched the rest of the room. “Where is Bill? Why are you here? Why am I here? What the hell is going on?” I was turning in circles now, unable to comprehend any of this.
“Put her in one of the chairs before she passes out.”
Two calloused hands grabbed each of my arms. My brain panicked and I lashed out. I kicked at one and turned and tried to bite at the other. They may have said something to me, but I didn’t hear the words. More hands grabbed at me as I flung myself in every direction I could trying to get away.
“Don’t touch me!” I shrieked, kicking harder. “Let me go.” Unfortunately, my hands were now pinned behind my back, or I would have tried punching too. But I wasn’t done yet. I flung my head back as hard as I could and crashed into something hard and ungiving.
“Jesus. You bitch.” When one of my arms was suddenly released, I swung it wildly, uncaring who or what I hurt. I refused to give in or give up.
“Enough!” A loud, hard and compelling male voice boomed through the room, freezing me in place. “Put her in the chair and then get the fuck out. I expect better than this from ALL of you. Especially you, Mrs. Bennett.”
I turned to face Viktor, my breath coming in hard pants I couldn’t yet control. “Don’t call me that.”
“It is your name, is it not? What else would you prefer? The fake one? Ms. Allison.” He drew out the syllables of my current last name in a deliberate taunt.
While I was contemplating what else to say, I was pushed down into my chair and immediately released.
“Who are you?” I asked, my head about to explode.
He chuckled, a not pleasant sound at all. “I thought that was my question. Which is it? Mrs. Bennett or Ms. Allison?”
I could feel the fight leaving my body with every accented syllable out of his mouth. It sickened me, but I was tired. The last week had taken its toll and all of this was just too much. “Harper. Just please call me Harper.”
“That is much better now, is it not? This situation will work out much better for us all if you simply remain compliant.”
I turned away from him, not able to watch him smile at me in that creepy I’ve won way. I had no idea what this man’s agenda might be, but I had a sick feeling I would have been better off with Bill.
Even if that meant I was dead.
Chapter 4
Alex
Alex paced his penthouse willing his phone to ring. He’d called Ronin three times already and three times the call had gone unanswered. His stepbrother was playing games with him and he was ready to commit murder over it.
He couldn’t call again without proving to that little shit how much Harper meant to him. Three times was already too much. If Ronin wasn’t sure about him and Harper before, he was now. Although he had to know more than he should anyway or else he’d never taken her from here.
If this was strictly about her Ronin could have approached her at her apartment or work like he had. God, a million and one scenarios were running through his head and the idea of doing nothing was enough to make him mad.
“Goddammit, Gerard. You have got to give me something. That fucking ridiculous boat can’t just disappear. This is the twenty-first century. There has got to be technology for this kind of thing.” He stopped and stabbed at his computer, checking his email and voicemail once again.
“You’re right, sir. I’m on the phone with my Navy intelligence contacts now. We should have something soon. I have no doubt Viktor Sokolov is a person of interest to the US Government. It would surprise me if they weren’t tracking his movements.”
His head shot up and stared at Gerard at the desk across the room. His staff had already moved furniture, brought in computers and set up communication equipment in his home office before he and Gerard had returned from their wild goose chase.
Although no one on the staff at the heliport had been able to confirm Harper’s presence aboard the Sokolov helicopter, he knew it down to his bones that she’d been on it. And since the boat had left hours before that they weren’t sure where the helicopter had gone. It didn’t matter. They only had to find the ship. That overpriced Airbus helicopter easily would have caught up to them quickly.
Gerard still worried that they might have taken her to an airfield and transported her out of the city that way, but he didn’t think so. Viktor was a cold-hearted bastard who liked to toy with people. That was more than evident from the deviant parties he threw. When someone like Viktor taps into some of the world’s elite and their sexual secrets, there were many ways that information could be used.
No, whatever plan Ronin had cooked up for Harper, he’d bet his last dollar that the Russian was fully involved.
Another phone across the room rang and he swung around in time to see Gerard depress the communication device on his ear to answer.
“What have you got for me?”
There must have been a flurry of conversation on the other side because Gerard remained silent other than a yes or no here and there and a lot of him looking focused on nothing but what he heard.
He, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his thoughts in one place. He hadn’t seen Harper in over a week and had already been antsy for her return. He’d thought that kind of attachment was bad, but that was nothing. This made him insane.
He needed to find her right now. If he didn’t hear something soon, he’d be hunting Ronin down to beat the answers out of him. Anger continued to boil through Alex’s veins. Ever since Ronin and his father had entered their lives they’d caused nothing but havoc.
But his mother had fallen madly back in love with the aging mob enforcer before he’d even caught word they were dating. Love at first sight she claimed. To watch them together was enough to turn his stomach. No matter how well the elder Kavanaugh treated his mother, he well knew what kind of danger those men lived with. They were up to their eyeballs in violence and eventually that was going to spill over.
It had before.
Rumors of the first wife’s death had spread like wildfire for some time. This city had a long history of mobsters with impulse control issues and none of them hesitated to use loved ones against their employees if they thought they needed to be brought in line.
That had only been one of many blood-curdling stories Gerard had dug up for him on the Kavanaugh family. And every day since his mother’s rash marriage announcement, he’d had to maneuver to keep her safe.
In fact, he’d warned his stepfather from the beginning that his mother was not or ever would be a bargaining chip. If anyone from their organization even hinted at such a thing, he would make sure there were no survivors.
Of course, the old man had blustered about threatening a mobster blah blah blah. To which he’d only responded with a ‘try me’. To his credit, Kavanaugh had lived up to his word and stayed out of Alex’s business.
Ronin on the other hand…
He liked to play games. The kind in which people were his pawns. Much like Viktor he used his influence to interfere or maneuver. Which is one of the reasons why he’d moved up the ranks in the organization so quickly. If you didn’t get on board or get out of his way, you were eliminated. Or so he heard.
However, until recently he’d kept most of his business far away from Alex. They were not the best of friends, but they weren’t complete enemies either. Ronin preferred to socialize inside the inner circle, often being seen with many of the next generation of criminals just waiting to take their rightful place in the families.
Alex’s mother though, she wanted her new family to include everyone, so she always insisted on get togethers over any important holiday, which is how he’d been at Ronin’s birthday dinner and been forced to listen to the story of his wild party and the woman he’d met that night.
And now he was full circle back to that fateful party and his subsequent discovery of Harper at the Glass Kat. Only she didn’t belong to Ronin. She belonged to him. He’d been the one to put the collar around her neck, no matter if she refused to call it that, and he was the one she had committed to.
Committed.
That word he could live with. He had committed to many things in his life. Business deals that led to great successes, the care and keeping of his family, he’d even committed himself to getting involved with Harper—to an extent.
