Chained to You, Vol. 3-4

by Alexia Praks

  An anguish cry escaped my lips as I thought about the horrible things that had happened to Andy and would likely to happen again. What if the next it'd be worse? What if it was so bad that his very life...

  No. No. I reasoned with myself. Andy had Matt to protect him, and I had no reason to question the man's ability and Andy's safety under his watch. Matt was a pro in this type of business. He was one of the dark billionaires who ruled Las Vegas City with an iron fist. So Andy was safe and protected with him. Yet Andy was still...

  I shook my head. Matt would be more proactive now this time round after what had happened. Otherwise there wouldn't be bodyguards with Andy at all times, right?

  And what about me with James? If I wished that Andy and my life were back the way it had been six months ago, if I hadn't come here because of Andy and that two million dollars, what would I be doing now?

  Working at the restaurant; that was for sure. That meant I would have never met James. That also meant I wouldn't have to think about him every few minutes and wondered about our unconventional relationship and whether he liked... no, loved me or not. I was utterly happy being with him, yet at times such as these when he wasn't around, when I was alone and I had my thoughts to myself, I thought I might just go insane thinking about him.

  Noting that Andy was still asleep, I got up from my seat and headed out the door. I didn't want to spend my time sitting here thinking about the possibility of my dark, desolate future of my unrequited love for James. I needed to get out and get some fresh air.

  Patrick accompanied me to the Nevada Mall, the one James took me last time to buy clothes, the one that belonged to his family. It was weird to have a big, bulky man in black suit following you around like a little duckling. It was also a little embarrassing when people started staring at you just because you had a bodyguard with you. At least Patrick was considerate enough to keep his distance.

  At first I wondered why Patrick would even accompany me to the mall. Surely, I wouldn't get lost in there. I'd just met up with him a few hours later once I was done. When I asked, he simply replied, "Mr. Maxwell stated clearly I must be with you at all time when he isn't around."

  Seriously?

  It was then a thought struck me. Was I being targeted by the Mexican and the Albanian as well? It was then the images of men following me ever since I had landed in Los Angeles flashed into my mind. I had always been a target since the beginning, haven't I? Ever since Andy was involved. Hadn't James said they'd even fly over to Mystic Spring just to get me? How could I forget about that? God! How stupid of me. I was involved and I was a target for a potential kidnapping and all the horrible things that came after that, whether I liked it or not. Yes, my life was on the line so to speak. The thought made me shivered in trepidation. My heart raced and my head spun, flashing with endless, atrocious images and possibilities of my demise.

  I glanced at Patrick behind me. So he was guarding and protecting me all along? I must admit I was grateful for his presence and his hard work.

  I dismissed the thoughts of me being kidnapped from my mind and started browsing the stores in the mall. For the first half an hour I simply went from one stores to another, scanning through the products on display. Of course I didn't buy anything because none caught my fancy. Besides, I was used to window shopping, what with being poor and on a tight budget. I also didn't wanted to spend James's money, too. I was quite stubborn and independent where money was concerned. I wanted to only spend my own that I earned through my own ability. I think people would put that as pride?

  It was a few hours later when I was browsing through the sweet shop section when I caught sight of something I wanted. Cakes! Sweet would surely please Andy.

  I literally had my nose on the glass window of the display cabinet as I tried to decide which one of the cakes looked the best and which Andy would like to have. There were a few of his favorites here; carrot, chocolate, and then there was... strawberry shortcake.

  The moment I saw the delicious looking cake with white cream and neatly placed strawberry on top, my heart ached in sorrow.

  "Mom," I whispered under my breath, feeling tears brewing in my eyes. Suddenly upset, I took a step back. Bam! I bumped into a body. A soft shriek followed that.

  I hastily turned around in fright and apology.

  "Oh my God! I'm so sorry," I said, crouching down to help the person up. People were looking at us, at me, for causing unnecessary locomotion.

  "I didn't know you were behind me," I admitted.

  On her backside on the floor, the girl chuckled as she tucked her long hair behind her ear. When she looked up at me, I couldn't help but stared and had my mouth agape open in awe.

  My gosh! This girl was a beauty. Delicate features and emerald green eyes. When she smiled at me, her eyes were bright. But then something odd nagged at me that there was something deeper beneath that beautiful smile. Sadness? Loneliness? A craving for something deep? It was as though this was the first time she smiled in a long time. Now why did I think that? I wasn't sure. But there was something in her look and her demeanor that told me she and I were in the same boat of a sort.

  "It's all right," she said softly. "I wasn't looking... I mean I didn't see you in front of me. I was too busy trying to figure out which cake I should buy."

  I laughed, both uncomfortably and apologetically. "Me, too," I said, trying to make light of the situation. I didn't want to offend her, after all.

  "I have a few favorites, so it's always hard to decide," she said, smiling.

  I nodded in agreement. Then I thought I'd get along very well with this girl. Though she looked a little younger than me.

  "Chocolate cake is always a safe bet," I said. "I think I might get that one for--"

  The name James Maxwell suddenly popped up in my head. Why James? But then I thought chocolate cake would definitely suit his taste. It definitely suit him as a person, too. As with the cake, he was enticing, rich in flavor with a hint of bitterness, and utterly sweet. Once you had a taste, you could never stop. He made me crave for him, for his touches, his kisses and so much more, just like the cake.

  Suddenly, my heart ached. The weight of the invisible pain crushed me around the chest like a ton of brick. Oh god! I wanted James with me now even though I knew I'd see him again tonight. Why was I like this all of a sudden? Why was I so dependent on him now all of a sudden?

  I've became attached to him, I just realized that. And that wasn't good. Not good at all.

  The girl nodded. "I think chocolate cake with white icing," she said. "That one would suit him."

  Him? Her words drew my attention away from my dismal thoughts. The girl must be buying cakes for her boyfriend then?

  I smiled. "But strawberry shortcakes are nice, too. It's sweet and light. I love strawberry shortcake."

  "Really?" she asked. "I've never tried it before."

  "Yes, Mom used to--"

  I stopped short. I was about to tell her how Mom had used to bake it for me on my birthday but the reminder only brought forward a jap of unpleasant pain within my heart.

  The girl lick her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear. I suspected that it was her habit doing that. "Are you okay?" she asked.

  I nodded my head, pleasantly surprised this girl was so perceptive of my emotions. "I'm fine."

  It was then the sale woman asked us what we'd like. I told her I'd like four slices of chocolate cake, two carrot and two strawberry shortcake. Once I had completed and paid for my orders, I step out of the store, thinking about heading back to the hospital. Patrick was once again not too far away, standing out from the crowd and looking suspicious as usual. I wanted to laugh. He was definitely a bodyguard and he definitely didn't belonged in the mall. But then I noted that he wasn't alone. There was another man in black suit not too far away, too, standing by the cake store.

  I was looking at him when the girl I had bumped into before rushed over to me.

  She licked her lips shyly and said, "I bought
the strawberry shortcake because you said it was delicious."

  "That's nice," I said. "You'll enjoy it." Then I thought maybe it was about time I started picking up on baking again, especially on making the strawberry shortcake. I had to let the cold emptiness and pain of losing Mom and being without her go at some point, hadn't I?

  "Err... what's your name?"

  "Huh?" I blinked in surprised. Why would she ask me my name? Wait? Did she want to become my friend or something? The thought made my heart burst with delight.

  I smiled and said, "Mia... Mia Donovan."

  The girl tucked her hair behind her ear again. I noticed that they had the habit of falling back into place, resting and covering the side of her beautiful face.

  "I'm Savanah White," she said. "Do you..." She licked her lips. "Do you live here in Las Vegas or are you a tourist?"

  How should I phrase this? I didn't live here nor was I a tourist of sort.

  I said, "No, I don't live here."

  "Oh..." She sound a little disappointed at that. "Well, enjoy your trip then," she said, trying her best to smile. "See you later."

  She turned on her heel and walked away. I wanted to stop her but then again what? What do I tell her after that? She was clearly disappointed I wasn't from Las Vegas, that I didn't live here.

  I sighed, and was about to turn on my heel also when I noted that other man in black suit I had seen earlier was following behind her. Then he offered to carry the bag of cakes for her, of which she obliged.

  I watched her go, my heart suddenly sad and aching. Here I was about to make a friend in my new life and my new world and I blew it because I didn't know if I was a tourist or a Las Vegas girl.

  What if I told her I was a mistress to a billionaire who ruled the underground business world? She'd freaked out and run away for sure.

  I turned on my own heel and headed out of the mall, too. Patrick, to my pleasant disbelief, did the same as the other bodyguard and offered to carry my bags of cakes for me.

  Once back at the hospital, I gave some chocolate cake to the bodyguards. Patrick looked pleased while the other one, Tim was his name, thanked me profusely.

  I said, "Thank you for your hard work," before heading to see my brother.

  Andy thoroughly enjoyed the carrot cake I had bought him and told me that I definitely should start baking again. I personally didn't know if I could as yet. The pain was still there... The reminder of Mom and me in the kitchen, laughing and enjoying our moments together as she taught me how to cook and bake.

  It was five in the afternoon when I kissed Andy on the forehead and then left for the day. On the drive back to the hotel, I couldn't help but ask Patrick some questions that had been burning within my mind since I was with Savanah.

  "Patrick?" I began.

  "Yes, Miss Donovan?"

  "Do you know anything about that bodyguard we saw this afternoon?"

  "Ah... That one? Interested, are you?"

  I frowned. "Yes. I am."

  He chuckled. "He works for Mr. Bosworth."

  I had no idea who this Mr. Bosworth was and was about to ask when Patrick said, "That girl belongs to Mr. Bosworth."

  Gosh! Patrick was blunt. So Savanah was Mr. Bosworth's girl?

  I felt sick to my stomach and a lump formed in my throat. Savanah wasn't that different from me after all? She belonged to Mr. Bosworth. It sounded like she was this man's property or something. His toy.

  Then I wondered contritely if, I too, was merely James's property... for five year. His toy. My heart ached at the thought.

  "Is everything all right, Miss Donovan?" Patrick's voice reached me.

  I took a deep breath and managed to nod my head to tell him that I was indeed fine, which was a total lie of course. I wasn't fine. I think I was love sick. I think I was in love with James who only thought of me as his toy, and that was heartrending and agonizing. I was a toy to a dark billionaire and nothing more. I was worth two million, and I felt awfully besmirched thinking about that.

  Back at the hotel, I tried to be positive and forget about how Savanah and I were in a similar situation as I showered. I wanted to forget about the fact that I was James's mistress because of two million. I wanted to forget about the fact that I was nothing to him but his toy. But of course, it was impossible.

  Then I thought about his kisses and his promise this morning, and I felt a little better. I knew I was deluding myself into believing James truly liked me for real, but I couldn't help myself. Deep down, I knew I was putting myself deeper into a trap where I could never escape, and I wasn't sure if I was going to be okay with that.

  Chapter 14

  James

  James picked up his phone on the second ring. He noted it was Cole Packer. As usual, the guy was impressively fast where his job was concerned.

  "Cole," he greeted, leaning back on the leather chair and staring off at the exquisite scenery of Las Vegas City beyond the floor-to-ceiling window of his office.

  "Hey, boss," Cole said from the other side of the line. "Mia Donovan's resignation from that restaurant is all sorted." He paused. "You should have seen the bastard. Damn, but he's a wuss."

  James didn't missed the hard edge he had heard from the other man's voice. He didn't doubt Cole had had quite a bit of fun whilst he had been on the job, despite he had never shown that outward appearance to anyone. Well, intimidation was his specialty, after all, what with the baldhead, a dark permanent scowl on his face and massive, muscular build with the height that was over six foot five tall. Cole Packer was a muscular giant and was dubbed the 'Angry Bear' within the circles of his work mates. Cole had been a boxer in his previous profession, and since that department went sour after some injury, he had become one of James's best men.

  "You didn't cause too much trouble, I hope?" James warned, knowing Cole was notorious for causing a shit load of damage when he was particularly passionate during a business dealing.

  Cole waved James's concern aside. "Don't worry. Like I said, the bastard is a wuss. He literally pee on his pants the moment he saw me." He went quite for a moment. His voice was hard and dark when he said, "Mia Donovan is all clear. That girl. What a mess."

  James frowned. "What's a mess?"

  "Mia Donovan," Cole said. "I don't know how she could have put up with such a bastard. Honestly, I don't. I know I wouldn't. I know a lot of people wouldn't. If it were me in her situation, I'd beat that fuck-head into a pulp."

  James kept quiet. He knew it was best to let Cole have his rant about his passionate subjects. Apparently, Mia Donovan's previous working life was now one of those.

  James wondered how Cole would react if he were to meet Mia in person? The man had a soft spot for cute, vulnerable creatures, after all, despite what he looked like and what his job was. And Mia Donovan was that cute, vulnerable creatures. On top of that, she had also had a pretty shitty life and had been treated poorly and unfairly, not to mention had been molested by an uncle during her tender years. Yes. Those were Cole's other passionate subjects; tortured creatures being cruelly treated and left to fend for themselves.

  James didn't doubt if Cole were going to meet Mia, the man would treat her like one of his beloved kitten, doted on her, and would protect her with his life.

  Cole went on, "She works from eight in the morning until eleven at night with only a half hour break for lunch and dinner. That's fucking fifteen hours a day. That's not legal. And she got paid minimum wage for eight hours a day. The other seven she got paid ten bucks an hour, and those were under the table." He growled. "That's fucking illegal, you know, boss. I talked to one of the waitress. The woman said Mia got treated the worst because she refused him. He was fucking harassing her, you know that?"

  James gritted his teeth. Fuck! No! He did not know that. First the uncle and now the restaurant owner, too?

  "That poor girl," Cole said. He sounded a little deflated after his ranting, as if he had finally let off some steam. But James knew better. The only way for Cole to
let off some steam was a good fight in the ring where the opponent was severely beaten into a pulp.

  "And the uncle?" James asked. This bastard, this Uncle Herbert, was what he worried most. He needed to get the man's attention and set him straight where Mia was concerned. It was for Mia's sake.

  James noted there was a bit of a pause on Cole's part when he asked the man this question.

  "Well?" he asked again.

  "About that," Cole said. "That Uncle Herbert isn't a Donovan. His name is Herbert Weston. His wife is Mia Donovan's mother's sister. It's messed up, boss. So fucking messed up. Need I tell you the bastard is gone?"

  James gritted his teeth. "Gone?"

  Cole said, "Yes, sir. Mia's aunt divorced him a couple of years ago. He was abusing her and there was quite a big court case about it, though nothing came out of it. He's no longer in New Hampshire."

  James frowned. "He fled?"

  "Yes, sir," Cole said. "My team are on it. We'll find him in the next couple of weeks, I'm sure."

  James frowned. "Good," he said. "We can't afford not to."

  Cole's tone was sharp and dark when he said, "I understand. Shit! I can't wait to take down that bastard. What he did was unforgivable. He's sick. He's a fucked up shit."

  James couldn't disagree more. "Contact me when you've found him."

  "Will do," Cole said.

  James was about to terminate the call when Cole said, "Err... Is Mia all right?"

  James couldn't help but smiled. "She's fine. Come over to LA when you've got the job done. I've got a few more stuff for you to do in LA."

  He could tell the man was pleased with the offers. He knew Cole wanted to see Mia, despite they had never cross path before and had nothing to do with one another whatsoever.

  No. James knew he was wrong on the last part. Cole did have something to do with Mia. He had put forward her resignation from her job on her behalf, and furthermore, he'd be the one to take down Herbert Weston, her uncle who had sexually molested her when she had been young.

  James terminated the call and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He shut his eyes.