“Just today or every day?” he asked after a gulp of some kind of mysterious green smoothie.
“A few times a week.” I shrugged my shoulders and admitted, “I love it there.”
Since the moment I found myself in a power struggle with this man, his eyes followed my every move. At first, I assumed he didn’t trust me. I did point a gun at him and deliver a nice nick to his eyebrow. But it had been over a week and his eyes never left me, with the exception of at night when he climbed into bed next to me without offering me a spare glance. Any time the two of us occupied the same room, his eyes sought me out. His didn’t look at me warily, trying to guess my next move. His gaze lingered on me, his eyes studying me in a way I couldn’t understand.
He looked at me from behind his drink, a spark of curiosity in those brown eyes so prominent I’d have to be blind to miss it. I never offered up any information; this was a first.
I hated that those lit up eyes made my heart do a funny little hiccup against my chest. “Where did you work?”
“Philly Range.” I pushed my empty plate to the side, grabbing my still warm cup of coffee. I narrowed my eyes at him over my mug. “Speaking of, where is my gun that you confiscated?”
He didn’t even try to conceal the smirk spreading across his lips. “I think I’ll keep your weapons for now.” I glared at him, only causing his smirk to grow. “We’re going to the hotel and then, you’re going to work?” I nodded, deciding to let the subject of my confiscated weapons go. For now. “Anything else for today?”
“Nope,” I said before standing up, collecting all of our dishes. The two of us had fallen into a routine over the past week. He cooked and I helped him clean up. We weren’t living in the 1950s and I was the farthest thing from a Stepford wife. After protesting the first few times I offered my help upon deaf ears, he hadn’t said anything else about it. I think he was just happy that I quit trying to physically harm him.
He grabbed the keys to a car I knew I’d been in but never seen. My eyesight had been limited to these walls and the little bit of sunlight the windows provided and I couldn’t control the way my heart sped up in anticipation to get back into the world. To be consumed by the bustle of the city, to hear the honking of the cars, to see pedestrians flipping off anyone and everyone.
I followed Hector to the front door with tentative steps.
He opened the door as I grabbed his wrist with my hand. He turned around to look at me, his eyes shooting down to my fingers wrapping around his wrist. I dropped my hand like his touch burned and took a small step back. “You haven’t made tacos since that first night,” I blurted out, immediately regretting it.
He pressed his lips together and I hated my eyes for being traitors to the movement. A second later, the smile he had been fighting won the battle. “Are you asking me to make you dinner?”
I huffed with annoyance, closing the space between us and placed my hands on his hard as rock shoulder blades and all but pushed him out of the door. “You make dinner every night, anyway,” I muttered, not amused.
“Tacos, it is,” he said as he swiveled around me to shut the door and set the very mysterious alarms. Without waiting for me, he sauntered over to his car, an all black Range Rover. He walked to the passenger side and opened the door, waiting for me.
I didn’t follow. I stood right where he left me, frozen in place. Because he lived in a fucking mansion. I pretty much guessed so but actually seeing the house from the outside, my jaw dropped open in awe. The exterior was painted a simple, clean white color with a balcony that wrapped around the entire second floor of the house. White gates stood high on each side of the house that led to some kind of beautiful land. The only thing I could see from behind the fence were tall southern magnolia trees, spread out on each side of the house.
It took Hector clearing his throat to bring me back down to Earth. I looked from him back to the sight of this beautiful house I found myself a tenant in. After several more moments of taking it all in, I spun around on my heel and made my way to Hector whose hands were in his pockets as he leaned against the door he opened for me, his eyes steady on me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “I knew it was a mansion but damn.”
He chuckled, standing taller as I passed him before he shut the door behind me.
He pulled out the cobblestone drive where we were met with a tall, iron gate. He pressed a button on the dashboard and the gates opened. Holy security. Once the gates closed behind us and a back road met us, I realized I still had no idea where we were. We could have been in Canada and I wouldn’t have known it. “Where are we?”
“New Hazle.” He looked over at me briefly. “Where did you think we were?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not answering. My eyes studied every fork in the road as Hector drove, trying to recall exactly where in New Hazle we were in but it all looked unfamiliar.
Soft Latin music played over the speakers and Hector drummed his fingers against the steering wheel to it. I found myself consumed by the altering scenery. A two-lane, curvy back road with huge, overbearing trees filling up the view on each side. Once several miles passed and Hector swung a couple of right turns, the first glimpse of the city came into view. I sat up in my seat, soaking in the tall buildings and the hectic sounds I could hear over the music.
It didn’t hit me until this moment how much I missed the city. It felt like I could breathe again. This is what I was used to; this is what my eyes have been desperate for. Without thinking, I pushed the power lock for the windows, not stopping until the outside breeze smacked me in the face, whipping my hair in all directions.
I closed my eyes, enjoying this moment. A dreamy sigh escaped me as I relaxed farther into the seat. I opened my eyes when I no longer felt air hit my cheeks. The window rolled back up. I snapped my head in Hector’s direction, already glaring.
His face didn’t give anything away but he did tell me, “The air works just fine.”
“I’m not hot. I just wanted to feel the wind on my face.”
He didn’t even give it, or me, a second of thought. “No windows,” he said curtly, not leaving me any room to argue. I huffed loudly and turned away from him, resting my elbows on the door rest. As he drove farther into the city, the urge to defy him became stronger and stronger with each teeth-grinding second. We stopped at a red light just as Center City came into view. I looked over at him to see his thumbs flying over his phone, sending a text. Turning back around, I pushed the button for the window. A tiny growl escaped me as I hit the button repeatedly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t work.
“Really,” I gritted out, looking over at him. “The kiddy locks?”
He tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket and pinned me with a look. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you when you say that you’ll listen.” He tapped the tiny white scar on his forehead, directly above the edge of his eyebrow.
I pursed my lips together before tearing my gaze away from him and watched as the city passed by us until the car stopped in front of the hotel I directed him to.
I didn’t feel bad about cutting him.
That night, he stood in the way of the only thing I cared about. Since then, he had pulled me out of my nightmare hell and has not once talked to me with disrespect. The man had essentially kidnapped me but treated me like an A-list guest in his home.
I opened the door with such force because being so close to him, all of a sudden, felt suffocating. Maybe I did feel a little bad.
Before I hopped out of my seat, I sought out his eyes and asked, “You’re not coming in?” He shook his head once, already pulling his phone out. “And I’m allowed to get out,” I said slowly, waiting for the catch.
Almost as if he couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Yes.”
I looked at him skeptically but for once his eyes were focused on something other than me. I took each step tentatively, making it inside without him grabbing me and whisking me away back to his mansion. Before I pulled the doors to the hotel lobby op
en, I looked back, curiosity winning over me. Hector held his phone pressed against his ear, his lips moving, a look I’ve never seen on his face.
I quickly turned around, chiding myself for looking back in the first place. Walking into the lobby, I headed straight to the elevators. I stepped out on the fourth floor and dug my hotel key card out of my pocket. When I walked into the room, everything was exactly how I left it. The duffle bag sat in the center of the unrumpled bed. Though I had no reason to suspect anything, I opened up the bag, relieved to see that all of my clothes remained and my two copies of the Count of Monte Cristo still buried between the layers. I zipped the bag back up and reached into the side pocket.
The crumpled piece of paper was exactly where I left it. My ten-year plan list. Now, my ten-year plus six months list. A fire lit in my chest, as it always did when I thought about killing Cameron Wade.
I thought I would feel less about him after spending a week surrounded by Hector. Where Cameron was my mother’s nightmares, Hector pulled me from mine. Cameron used his hands to demean my mother, Hector used his to protect me. While Cameron called my mom every degrading name in the book, Hector stuck with “bonita.” Beautiful. The two men were polar opposites. And knowing that men like Hector existed, that not all men were monsters, I thought the hate I carried for Cameron would simmer but it didn’t.
I folded the piece of paper back up and abandoned my things in favor of the small desk in the room. Grinding my teeth, I put pen to paper.
Learn how to fight.
Graduate college.
Buy a plane ticket to Mexico.
Survive Hector.
Get revenge.
Start over.
I studied the revised list. This single sheet of paper that kept me going for ten long years. Six months was nothing. I would give Hector this six months. I would survive the next six months with him. I would go back to my old schedule. I would work my normal four days a week at Philly Range. I would make my body stronger than it was before. I would make my aim more precise. I would be more ready than I ever was before in six months’ time.
Hector wanted me to find Annie, the real Annie, the future Annie. But I was the same Annie at twelve as I was now, as I would be in ten years from now. I was a survivor; it’s all I knew how to be.
I placed the slip of paper in the pocket of my jeans before grabbing all of my belongings and heading down to the lobby. I paid off my bill before making my way back to Hector. He didn’t make a move to open my door or offer help with my bag. Not that I needed him to but it didn’t quite fit the man I’ve quickly grown accustomed to. I opened the back door of his car and set my bag on the seat before hopping back into the passenger seat. “Thanks for the help,” I huffed.
Hector didn’t utter a word before he threw the car in drive, barely affording me enough time to buckle up. He weaved his way through the city traffic, making it to Philly Range in less than ten minutes. He pulled the car into an empty parking spot right in front which I found odd because there was never any parking available. I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t just a case of luck, but Hector asking for something and receiving it before he could even snap his fingers.
“How long do you want to stay today,” he asked quietly.
I looked over at him to see his eyes glued to the front door of the range, his fingertips tapping impatiently against the steering wheel. “A few hours. I can call when I’m ready to be whisked away,” I told him with a sweet, fake smile.
He ignored my snipe. “Call me an hour ahead of when you want to leave. I have some business on the other side of the city I need to attend to.”
Three things happened, almost simultaneously, since we left the isolation of his house. He kiddy locked me. He didn’t help me with my suitcase. And his mood, that with me, at least, always seemed to be on the teasing or concerned side, turned grave. Like he was disappointed in something. Something that I gathered to be himself. Hector, I was learning, was a man with manners, a gentleman. In the deep pit of my gut, I knew him not opening and closing doors for me, asking me if I needed help or just him beside me was eating him up on the inside.
I opened the door but paused, looking back at him. “Walk me to the door?” I asked him softly.
He turned his gaze on me, his eyes studying my face, moving over every inch, darting between my eyes and my lips. I couldn’t help the barely there tilt to my lip and he noticed. “Get out,” he growled, a chuckle escaping him and just before I shut the door I let out the laugh I had been holding in, too.
* * *
My eyes followed her retreat. I couldn’t help but let the gloom that had settled over me since we pulled into the city slip from my skin. She threw her head back and I could hear the laugh that tore out of her as she swayed her way into Philly Range. In the past week of knowing her, I’ve been faced with the many sides of her. The most familiar being the pissed off version. The skin above my eye and the chip in my front door could attest to that.
But this was the first time I’d ever seen a laugh spill from her lips with no trace of carefulness. I had a feeling that laugh was as free as Annie had gotten in a long time.
I didn’t know a lot about her, only what I learned in the past week. She loved that sugary cereal Samuel used to eat as a kid. She never turned away food. Even if she had to covertly unbutton her jeans; even if I thought something might be too spicy for her. She watched crime shows each night to unwind. She never complained about anything. Stuck inside the house for days, albeit her choice, she not once muttered a word about being confined. Something I realized from the very first night, and grasped each moment I spent with her, she was strong as hell. Not her physical strength, but through her perseverance.
We didn’t talk about Cameron. We didn’t talk about the six-month sentence I forced on her. We talked enough that our space filled with harmony and not awkwardness.
She agreed to six months and her acceptance was the last thing she uttered about it. She didn’t complain. She didn’t try to back out of our deal. She didn’t even hate me. Though, my face did become the target of her glares when she got lost in her head, I welcomed them. Pathetic as it may be, I knew one name circulated her thoughts. Mine. I was glad because she not only invaded my house, my life, my everything, but for the life of me, I could not get her out of my head. It didn’t matter how close or far from her I was, I wanted to, no, I craved, to know every single thing out of her. I wanted to go to the school of Annie. I wanted to earn my degree and go back and get my doctorate’s.
She didn’t offer up anything about herself. And she always hid those eyes from me, like she knew I could read her perfectly from one look alone.
The only time she let her guard down was when she taunted me.
A trace of a smile remained on my lips as my eyes followed Annie as she walked into Philly Range. I focused on her wavy blonde hair swaying across her back, willing my eyes to focus on her retreating head. I lost the battle, my eyes lowering to the sway of her hips in her dark wash jeans.
I wish I could put a stop to this attraction I felt toward her. I didn’t make this arrangement with her in the hopes that she would kiss me again. This arrangement benefitted one person. Her. If everything went according to plan, in the next couple of months, hell, it might not even take the full six months, she would have found something, or several things, that made her happy. And she would realize that Cameron unknowingly stole an essential piece of her, and she needed to reclaim it once and for all.
Cameron was still going to die. Like she told me that day I offered up my proposition, this wasn’t something she woke up one morning and decided to do. She had been planning this for ten years. According to the state of Pennsylvania, Annie turned twenty-two a month ago. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that whatever Cameron did to ruin her life, his actions followed her into adulthood. It was okay if she forgot about him because I never would.
Once she disappeared inside of the range, I threw my head back against the seat,
pinching the bridge of my nose. Only two hundred and seventy-five more days of this self-imposed hell.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Matt.
“Yeah,” he answered distractedly.
“Annie’s back.”
The line went quiet for a moment. “I know. She called me earlier.”
“Don’t forget my warning, Panini.”
“Yeah. I got it, Rivera,” he bit out.
I should’ve hung up. I should’ve just left it that. But she had a control over me I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to shake. “One more thing. Let it be known she’s under the protection of the Rivera family.”
Despite his obvious contempt for me, he sucked in an audible breath. “Are you sure?”
Not a lot of people found themselves under the protection of my family name. Similar to a tattoo, once you received it, it lasted forever. Nothing in this world could hurt you. Unless you betrayed me. Then, there was nothing in this world that could protect you. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said it,” I said, more to myself than to him.
“I got it. Anything else?”
“Nope. I’ll have the funds deposited into your account by midnight for your cooperation.” I didn’t give him a chance to protest or thank me. I hung up.
Throwing the car in reverse, I lost myself in city traffic. I didn’t have business on the other side of town. I had business in New Hazle.
Cameron Wade was proving more difficult than I thought.
Over the past fifteen years of my life, I honed my craft of torture, and if necessary, murder. I dealt with shitty people who deserved shitty deaths, and that was that. I called it a day. I never had to make sure someone didn’t die. But I promised Annie I wouldn’t kill Cameron and I meant it.
Stopping at a red light, I texted Nolan. Where are you?
Hank’s bound. That made two of us. I didn’t bother texting back; I’d see him soon enough. The thirty minutes wading through traffic didn’t take my mind off of Annie. I imagined her at work. I wondered about her relationship with Matt. For him to call me, of all people, to protect her, he had to have been desperate.
Hijacked Page 10
