Leah rubbed her shoulder.
Easton pushed forward. “What’s going on? Where’s Haven?”
“Becker kidnapped her,” Rhys said through clenched teeth.
“Shit.” Easton muttered.
Leah’s face drained of color. “He’s…he isn’t her boyfriend?”
“He’s her abusive ex-boyfriend.” Gia’s voice was as sharp as a blade.
The woman slapped a hand against her mouth. “Oh God, I didn’t—”
Rhys turned away. “We need to get searching.”
Vander put his phone to his ear. “Ace, find what Becker is driving, and where the hell he took her.”
Rhys strode onto the corridor. He had to find Haven.
If that prick hurt her…
Vander gripped his shoulder. “Becker won’t hurt her.”
“Becker’s a wildcard,” Rhys snapped. “He hit her before, dragged her into this fucking mess, and now he’s drugged her.”
Standing waiting for the elevator, Rhys turned and punched the wall. His fist went through the drywall.
“We’ll find her,” Vander repeated.
Rhys nodded, but his throat tightened. He wouldn’t relax until Haven was back in his arms.
* * *
Haven blinked her eyes, fighting through the grogginess wrapped around her like a thick blanket. How much wine had she drunk?
She opened her eyes and found herself sprawled on a couch in a small, not-so-nice apartment. The couch had an awful floral pattern with dubious stains on it.
What the hell? She jerked upright.
Then she spotted Leo sitting in an armchair across from her.
She jolted. “Leo? What the hell?” Memories came back to her in a rush. “Oh, my God, you kidnapped me!”
“Haven—”
“Shut up.” She dropped her head into her hands. Her friends would be out of their minds with worry.
Rhys.
Shit, Rhys would be tearing the city apart.
Leo, looking bad-boy disheveled, leaned forward in the armchair. She noted the lines of stress and tiredness on his face. She jerked back, not wanting to get too close to him.
“I left,” she said. “I want nothing to do with you. Why won’t you leave me alone?”
His handsome face twisted. “I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Haven.”
She laughed harshly. “You’re kidding me.” She saw from his face that he was serious. “God, you aren’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you love the cocktail waitress who gave you a blow job in your office, too?”
Leo closed his eyes. “That was a mistake.”
Haven made an angry sound. Why wouldn’t her past leave her alone?
“I was under a lot of stress. You kept pushing—”
“I was your girlfriend. I was worried. I wanted to help you.” She sat back, and worried for a second what she might catch from this damn couch. “I guess being in debt to the Russian mafia is stressful.”
Her ex dragged in a breath. “You know.”
“I’m in danger, Leo. I’ve been hurt, a hundred-million-dollar painting I’m responsible for was stolen from my workplace, my apartment exploded. Yes, I know.”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to keep you safe. You need to come with me and—”
“You can’t be serious.” She rose and her head swam. Dammit. She locked her legs to keep from swaying. “I want nothing from you. I don’t want to be anywhere near you. You’re the one who put me in danger.” She took two steps away. “I need to contact my friends.” Rhys would be going crazy. “They’ll be worried. Where the hell are we?”
“Airbnb I rented. And your friends can’t worry for you, or care for you, like I do.”
Was he serious? Had he always been this self-centered? “You are absolutely right. They care for me way more than you ever did. I’m leaving.”
Leo leaped up. “No. It’s too dangerous. Zakharov’s men—”
She cocked her head. “Your Russian friends.”
“They’re after you,” he said.
“Why?” Anger was a burn in her throat. “How do they even know who I am?”
“I told you, I’m desperate. I needed to pay them back, and when I told Sergei about the painting…” Leo swallowed. “They’ve got it, but they’re finding it hard to sell a painting like that.”
“It’s a stolen masterpiece. No shit.”
“They need someone reputable to guarantee that it is what it is, and not a fake. They know how knowledgeable you are…”
Her eyes widened. “They blew up my apartment and tried to kill me!”
“You weren’t supposed to be there.” He shoved his hands through his hair. “It was the afternoon and you should have been at work. They just wanted to rattle you, limit your options…”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
“They think you can help them shift the painting.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re also not happy with me. They have some San Francisco security firm on their ass.”
“My boss is a wealthy, influential businessman, Leo.”
“He the one you’re fucking?”
Haven ground her teeth together. “No, not that it’s any of your business. One of his brothers runs that security firm, and the other one works there. They want the painting back. They’re also my friends, and they want me safe.”
“Zakharov wants to use you to try and control me.”
“Why?” she screeched.
“Because he knows I love you.”
“Stop telling people you love me. I don’t love you!”
Hurt filled his features. “We were good, Haven.”
“For about thirty seconds, Leo. We had fun. Then it wasn’t fun, and now it’s really not fun. I’ve moved on. Please. Leave. Me. Alone.”
He stared at her with those clear-blue eyes she’d once thought were beautiful. “Moved on with that asshole on the phone?”
Haven wanted to scream. “That’s what you got from what I said? Not me telling you how I feel and what I want?”
He paused. “Are you with him?”
“I’m leaving, Leo.”
“No!” He lunged at her.
They wrestled for a second and she jabbed her fingers into his eyes. He yelped and fell, and they both went down in a tangle, rolling on the dirty carpet. They hit a coffee table, and pain flared in her hip.
“Let me go!” she yelled.
“I have to keep you safe!”
Haven managed to get on top of him, and rammed her knee into his gut. Leo stayed in decent shape, but he was nowhere near as hard and muscled as Rhys.
The air whooshed out of him and he grunted.
Haven scrambled up, then yanked the front door open. She’d lost her heels in the fight, but she didn’t pause. She raced barefoot down the dingy stairwell.
She hit the street, looked left and right, then went left. The cool air hit her and she shivered.
She wanted Rhys. She wanted those muscular, tattooed arms around her. For once, she wanted to lean on someone and trust them to help hold her up.
Stifling a sob, she turned a corner. She had no idea where she was, but she saw lights and shops ahead.
She broke into a jog and spotted a Walgreens. She needed to call Gia and Rhys.
The doors swished open.
“I need help.”
A middle-aged woman and a teenaged girl stood behind the counter, their eyes widening. The woman raced around to Haven. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
Haven nodded. “Can I use your phone?”
The woman patted her back. “Of course.”
Haven was so glad she knew Gia’s number by heart. She held the phone in her trembling hands. It rang.
“Hello?”
“Gia!”
“Haven! Are you all right? The guys are out searching everywhere for you.”
“I’m okay. Leo—”
“We know, we saw the security footage. Where are you?”
“At a Walgreens. H
ang on.” She put her hand over the phone. “Where are we?” The teenager rattled off the address, and Haven gave it to her friend.
“Sit tight, girlfriend. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let me call the cavalry.”
“Thanks, G.” Haven handed the phone back to the woman. “Thank you. Someone’s coming.”
“Do you want to call the police?”
All Haven wanted was to not be here. “No, that’s okay.”
A few minutes passed and she saw movement at the door. She looked up.
A wild-eyed Leo stared at her through the glass.
Oh, hell. The doors opened and she pushed away from the counter.
Leo strode in. “Haven, we need to go now.”
“Leo, leave me alone. I don’t know how else to say it.”
He grabbed her arm. “You need to—”
“Hey,” the Walgreen’s lady interrupted. “Leave her alone.”
Leo ignored the woman and jerked Haven forward. She shoved at him, but he moved closer.
Suddenly, a candy bar sailed through the air and smacked Leo in the forehead. He blinked, shocked, and Haven glanced to see the teenage girl grabbing another candy bar off a display near the counter.
“Haven,” Leo growled.
“Just leave,” she yelled.
He yanked her again and she pulled back. They spun in an unwieldy circle and crashed into a display. Hair brushes and accessories flew everywhere.
She fell to the floor and Leo landed on top of her. The air rushed out of her.
“My God, what did I ever see in you?” she cried.
She shoved at him, then suddenly, he was yanked off her and he went flying, smacking into a set of shelves.
She scrambled up to see Vander and Saxon standing in the doorway, their faces like stone.
Vander crossed his arms over his chest. “Haven, you all right?”
She nodded.
Then she turned. Rhys had Leo on the ground, one tattooed hand fisted at the front of Leo’s shirt, while he punched Leo in the face with his other hand.
Oh, God.
She raced over. “Rhys, let him go. He’s not worth it.”
That got her no response. Leo moaned.
“Rhys!” She clung to his side. “Please.”
He hesitated.
“I need you. I feel a huge freak-out coming on.” Not really, she was more pissed than upset, but she did a pretty good job of making her voice shake.
Rhys dropped Leo. He turned to her, face like thunder and his eyes boiling.
“Rhys,” she whispered.
He yanked her up and kissed her. She sank into him, feeling a punch of emotions—relief, desire, anger. His tongue touched hers and she slid her hands into his thick hair.
When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead to hers and she clung to him. Then she let out a happy, little sigh.
He tilted his head. “What happened to the freak-out?”
Oops. “Oh, well, your kiss chased it away.”
His dark eyes narrowed, but then his lips twitched. “You wouldn’t be trying to distract me from beating the shit out of your ex, would you?”
“Who, me?”
He shook his head, his lips twitching.
“You said you weren’t dating your boss.” Leo’s voice was nasally and his nose was bleeding.
“He’s not my boss,” she huffed. “He’s my boss’ brother.”
Leo scowled. “He’s an asshole—”
Rhys shifted, and quickly, Haven stepped in front of him to block his view of Leo.
“Be quiet,” she snapped at Leo. “You don’t exist for me.”
“But this asshole does?” Leo scowled at Rhys.
Behind her, Rhys tensed. She pressed a hand to his hard gut, and was momentarily distracted by feeling his six pack through his shirt.
“He does. Tell your friends I have nothing to do with you.” She turned. “Can we go home now?”
“Yeah, angel.”
Rhys picked her up and she snuggled into him.
“I can walk,” she said.
“I know.” He didn’t set her down.
She leaned into him as he headed out the door.
Chapter Twelve
As Rhys unlocked his front door, his chest held a knot of residual anger and a whole lot of relief.
He held Haven tucked under his arm. She was alive. Safe. Breathing.
She looked fine despite her ordeal. He wanted to take care of her.
And he definitely didn’t want to feel the fear that had hit him knowing she’d been taken again.
They walked in and he flicked the lights on.
“Why don’t you take a bath?” he said. “Relax—”
“I don’t want a bath.” She walked into his place and his gaze took in the back of that damn dress. Or rather lack of a back.
She spun, her blue gaze on him.
Then she ran at him and jumped.
He caught her with a grunt, sliding his hands under her ass. “Haven.”
“I know what I want.” Her mouth hovered over his, not kissing him. Yet.
Anticipation was hot and hungry. Her breath mingled with his.
His cock went hard in an instant. Then he dug deep and dredged up some control. It was minuscule. “You’ve had a rough night—”
She licked her lips and her tongue brushed his. They both groaned. His fingers bit into her ass.
“I’m not thinking of anything but you,” she murmured.
Rhys gritted his teeth. He was known for his control. Iron hands on the wheel of a fast car, on the controls of a speeding boat, on a rifle in battle.
Right now, those hands were shaking.
Because of her.
His Haven.
When he didn’t move or say anything, he saw uncertainty cross her face.
“Um, if you don’t want—?”
He slid a hand up and tangled it in her hair. He tilted her head back, just rough enough to get her attention. Her pretty lips parted.
“What do you want, baby?” he drawled.
Something twisted inside him, a beastly part of him that wanted to throw her on the ground, and tear that damn dress off of her.
“I want to be safe,” she murmured. “I want your hands on me.” Her mouth brushed his lightly. “I want you inside me.”
Rhys’ growl was loud. His cock was hard and throbbing, trapped in his damn jeans. Sharp need twisted in his gut.
He’d never wanted to claim and possess a woman like this before.
“You going to let me sink my cock deep? You wet for me, angel?”
She squirmed against him. “Yes.”
“It won’t be polite or gentle.” He ground his cock against her. “You’ve got me hot and hard.”
“I want hard. I want it all.” She was breathing fast.
Rhys strode across the room to the dining table, filled with barely leashed hunger. He set her down on her feet, then pushed the dress off her shoulders.
The fabric fell to her waist and she gasped, but Rhys could only see those gorgeous breasts. They weren’t big, but they were perfectly formed, and topped with pink nipples.
“Rhys—”
He slid an arm around her and pushed her back, arching her spine so her breasts pushed up at him.
“Look at you.” He ran his knuckles across her nipples, watching them turn to hard, little beads.
She made a hungry, desperate sound.
He lowered his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
“Oh… Yes, God.”
He rolled his tongue over her nipple, loving how she squirmed. Then he moved across to the other one. Her skin was so smooth, so damn sweet.
She slid one hand into his hair, and gave a small yank. He sucked harder, and she moaned and bucked against him.
“Need you inside me,” she pleaded.
Desire made everything in him hot, tight. If he didn’t have her soon, he’d implode
. He felt like he’d wanted her forever. He couldn’t remember not wanting her.
He pushed her dress down and it slithered into a pool at her feet.
She wore a tiny wisp of bronze lace beneath.
He gripped her hips and lifted her onto the table.
“Oh.” She gripped his biceps. Then she grabbed his shirt and yanked.
Buttons flew everywhere, and her gaze locked on his chest. She pushed the torn shirt off.
“My God, you’re Grade-A fantasy material.” She pressed a hand to his abs, her nails scratching his skin.
Rhys made a sound that made her gaze meet his. He saw the answering need in her eyes, the same desire that was strumming through him.
Then she touched the tattoo on his chest—the American flag. A reminder of why he’d fought, why he’d given up little pieces of his soul.
Then before he realized what she had planned, she palmed the large bulge in his trousers. Fuck. He felt his balls draw up, and for a second, he worried that he’d come in his jeans.
He moved fast, pressing close between her legs and shoving her back on his table. Damn, he’d never seen a better sight than a naked Haven McKinney laid out for him.
“Baby, my cock is on a hair trigger when it comes to you. I plan to come deep inside you, not in my jeans.”
She arched up, and he stroked his hands down her belly. Then under the edge of her thong. She was drenched and his gut clenched.
“Baby, so wet. I can slam inside you and I’ll slide right in.”
“Rhys.”
He hated even the tiniest barrier between them. He yanked and tore her thong off.
She gasped. “No one’s ever torn my clothes off me.”
He smiled darkly. “You started it. You ripped my shirt off.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not sorry.”
He leaned over and kissed her. A kiss that demanded everything. Their tongues stroked, both of them grabbing at each other, pressing hard. Her long legs clamped on his hips, and she writhed against his cock.
Rhys slid a hand between them. Then he slid two fingers along her sweet, wet folds. She cried out. Then he thrust his fingers inside her welcoming warmth.
Her hands clenched in his hair, pulling hard. She made a desperate sound, then chanted his name.
He could tell that she was close. He stilled and pulled his hand away.
“No,” she complained.
The Investigator: Norcross Series Page 11
