Mistaken Hero (Retribution Games Book 1)
Page 5
My heart skips a beat watching the gorgeous man approach us. He’s wearing a black tux with the tie hanging loosely around his neck. A strand falls from the faux mohawk he styled his dirty blonde hair in and dangles over his eyes. He blows it up before running his hand through it. He looks like a rockstar with his short sides, long hair on top, and a hint of tattoos beneath the collar of his shirt.
He has a concerned look on his face until he spots me. His eyes widen, and his mouth forms a ‘wow,’ but it’s not audible. At first, I think the wow is because he finds me attractive, then I remember I’m covered in blood.
This must be the man Beckett texted.
“I’m Caius,” the handsome god says, extending his hand to me.
“Ri.” I take his hand. It’s strong and warm, but I don’t get the shockwaves like I do when I touch Beckett.
“Take her to your room. Don’t let her out of your sight for a second. Not even for bathroom breaks. I’ll explain more when I get back from apologizing to my wife about tonight. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
Caius is silent as he studies Beckett like he thinks he’s lost his mind. But he quickly shakes that thought away. “Of course, whatever you need.”
Caius takes my hand, this time pulling me toward him. We all walk together toward the elevator banks. Beckett presses the button, and the doors open instantly. We all step on with Caius still holding my hand like he’s afraid I’ll run away. But it’s Beckett’s hand on the small of my back that gets me to step onto the elevator.
Caius presses a button for the tenth floor, while Beckett presses one for the sixteenth.
The elevator stops on the tenth floor. It’s time to get off, to go with Caius. But as nice as he seems, I don’t know him. At first, I don’t move, but Beckett’s hand on my back again guides me forward to follow Caius off the elevator.
“I’ll see you soon, Princess.”
“Can’t wait, Hero.”
He glares at my nickname for him as the doors slide shut. It serves him right for calling me Princess.
Caius studies me in complete confusion. He’s still gripping my hand firmly, not in an aggressive sort of way, but also not in an endearing way either.
“This way,” he says.
I follow him down the hallway to the last door on the end. He pulls out a keycard and opens the door.
The room is a standard hotel room. It has a white bed, dark desk, a couple of lamps, and a door I assume leads to the bathroom. He lets go of my hand once I’m in the room. I can hear him locking the door behind me as I walk to the window that has a decent view of the city lights.
“Um…can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
I turn toward him. He’s standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with me. His hand is rubbing the back of his neck.
I shake my head.
He stares at me, taking me in like I’m the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. I guess the blood isn’t that off-putting. This boy must not spend much time with the opposite sex if he finds me attractive. I’m a mess in ripped clothes, covered in blood, and rope rash on my wrists. I expect him to boss me around or treat me like his little sister like Beckett does. He doesn’t. While Beckett is probably close to a decade older than me, Caius is young, early twenties. He’s got a boyish charm about him, while Beckett is all man.
“So, you going to ask me what happened?”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “I’m sure it’s an epic tale, but I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer you a hot shower, change of clothes, and medical treatment first.”
“How chivalrous of you.”
He shrugs with a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He walks over to his bag and starts pulling clothes out for me.
“I’m sure these will be too big on you, but it’s better than being covered in blood.” His eyes dip up and down my body. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Yes.”
He turns back to his bag and starts digging in the bag for more gear. He turns back to me after finding a first aid kit.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” He tries to avert his eyes, but his large blue eyes are locked on my chest. I’m wearing nothing but a bra and panties, having removed my shirt and yoga pants.
“I’m obeying your boss, so I don’t get a sweet boy like you into trouble.”
He smirks. “You think I’m sweet?”
“The sweetest.” My eyes catch a glance at the bulge in his pants. Okay, so maybe he isn’t that sweet, but he’s kinder than Beckett. That’s a start.
He walks to the bathroom. I hear the sink running, and then he returns with a wet washcloth. He starts rubbing it across my shoulder and then to the swell of my breast.
“See? Sweet,” I say.
He laughs deeply. “I have my hand on your breast. I’d call me a pervert, not sweet.”
I shrug. “You’re taking care of me and removing the blood. When you grew up like I did, your actions seem kind in comparison.”
His eyes twinkle with pity for me.
“Don’t—don’t pity me.”
He doesn’t respond. He just moves the washcloth to my stomach.
I hiss.
He bends down to get a closer look. “Your ribs look bad. And there’s a bad gash here.” He looks at his first aid kit. “I don’t have anything to fix your gash, and you need the good painkillers to stop it hurting every time you breathe.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m not worried about the pain.”
I move past him to grab the clothes.
He catches my wrist.
I hiss from the sting.
His eyes widen when he sees the rash from the rope.
“Sit.”
His voice is a command, but it’s also soft and caring.
Reluctantly, I sit on the edge of the bed.
He kneels in front of me and goes to work on my wrists. He smears some ointment on them before wrapping them in bandages.
My heart flutters in my chest at how gentle he’s being. A man like him is exactly the kind of man I should want. Don’t get me wrong, I’d fuck Caius in a heartbeat. He’s hot as sin. But after my kiss with Beckett…Jesus, stop living that fantasy! It’s never going to happen. Beckett’s married.
Maybe I should fuck Caius and get any crazy ideas of Beckett out of my head. Even if he wasn’t married, Beckett hates my guts for making him cheat on his wife.
When Caius is finished wrapping my wrists, he kisses the inside of my wrist.
My panties soak with that tender kiss.
Apparently, I’m into good guys just as much as I’m into bad guys.
I lean forward and catch his lips with mine, deciding carpe diem. I need to seize every moment I can.
He tastes like chocolate and wine. Even his kiss is sweet. For a second, I get lost in the kiss, but he’s almost too gentle with his lips to demand my full attention, and my mind quickly starts comparing his kiss to Beckett’s. This one is delicious and tingly, but it’s doesn’t have me all hot and bothered.
Suddenly, the door opens.
We both jerk our heads apart as we turn and stare at the door.
Beckett is standing in the doorway, looking white as a ghost. I expect him to have some irate reaction at seeing me almost naked with Caius between my legs with swollen lips from our kiss. I expect him to call me a whore or yell at Caius for falling for my dirty tricks to seduce him and get him on my side or something.
Beckett walks in almost like he doesn’t even see us.
“Beck? What’s wrong?” Caius asks as he slowly stands.
Beckett runs his hand down his face, and somehow that brings him back to life.
“Odette’s gone.”
7
Beckett
I stop just outside our honeymoon suite. My stomach is in knots, and I want to throw up. It’s the only way to deal with my guilt and anxiety. I don’t deserve any relief; I deserve every ounce of stress wreaking havoc in my stomach.
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I know I’m doing what has to be done to protect Odette. If it weren’t for my past, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I would have already fucked her every way imaginable—on the bed, in the shower, against the wall. I’d already have her snuggled against my body, drifting in and out of sleep until we both recover enough to fuck again and again.
Knowing I did what I had to in order to protect Odette doesn’t absolve my actions, though. But Odette will. She’ll forgive me for everything.
Leaving her on our wedding night.
My past putting her in danger.
Even kissing another woman.
Yet, I’ll never forgive myself.
I open the hotel room door as the thoughts of my kiss with Ri bubble up like hot acid in my throat. I wish I could say the kiss was horrible, that it stirred nothing in me, and it meant nothing. I had to make the kiss look real, but it was more than that. It was more than how her lips felt against mine, how her tongue battled mine, her head slanted to deepen the kiss, her soft moans only audible to my ears, or the heat from her body as I held her tight against mine. Yes, all of that felt good. But there was something else…something I dare not name.
I have to name it, though. Odette deserves to know the truth.
“Odette?”
She doesn’t answer me. I purse my lips as I breathe slowly, trying to settle my erratic heartbeat and look of sheer terror on my face, so I don’t scare Odette when she sees me. We aren’t out of danger yet, not until I return Ri to the mafia and ensure the Phantom Brotherhood is taken care of, but I took a large step toward protecting Odette tonight. And I won’t rest until she’s completely safe.
“Odette?” I try again as I walk into the bedroom where I left her.
The bed’s empty.
My heartbeat speeds up as I throw the bathroom door open. “Odette?”
Empty.
My head scans the bedroom, and that’s when I spot the trickle of blood on the stark white sheets.
Did her period start? Did she run out to get tampons?
Did she cut herself and run out to get bandaids?
Is the blood meaningless, and she just went down to the bar after getting tired of waiting on me?
I take in more of the scene as a million possibilities filter through my head of how she could be safe. I don’t let the other ones in, not yet. I’m not ready to face the possibility that she was taken.
And then I see the indisputable evidence as I walk around the bed.
More blood.
A puddle of blood on the floor.
My stomach heaves, threatening to vomit at the thought of my wife injured because I wasn’t here to protect her.
I pull out my phone and dial a number with one press of a button.
“Beckett? Did you get the girl?” Langston answers.
“Yes, but Odette is missing.”
There’s a heavy pause. “I’ll go through all the security feeds in the hotel and surrounding area. Siren is here. She’ll let everyone know to head to Chicago immediately. We’ll be there tonight. We’ll find her.”
I hang up, reserving any strength I have for later conversations.
I know I can count on my friends to help. I should have had them here. I thought I was protecting Odette by keeping them away, but it will take them hours to get here. That’s time we don’t have.
So much happened tonight that it can’t all be a coincidence—Ri, the Phantom Brotherhood, the Corsi family. Somehow one of them is involved in this. Either the Phantom Brotherhood kidnapped her to ensure I stayed in line, the Corsi family did thinking I’d kidnapped their daughter, or whoever Ri was running from did. I know one thing—I need to talk to Ri.
I start running through the hotel room when I remember Ri’s condition. I grab my first aid supplies and throw the bag’s loop over my shoulder as I head to Caius’s hotel room.
As the elevator descends to their floor, it hits me. Odette is gone, and I might not be able to get her back. She could be injured, raped, or dead by now. I failed her. If I get her back, she’ll be changed. I’ve seen it before.
I’ve lost, even if I win her back.
All color drains from my face as the doors open. My chest seizes, and I feel a thousand pounds of pressure descend on my heart as I walk into the elevator.
After a short ride, I’m running on autopilot as I pick at Caius’s room’s lock. In my haze, that seems faster than knocking.
I see their shocked faces as I enter, but I can barely process what I’m seeing. I walk to the window.
“Beck? What’s wrong?” Caius asks as he slowly stands from between Ri’s legs.
I run my hand down my face, and the blood rushes back to my brain until I can articulate what needs to happen to save Odette.
“Odette’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Caius asks.
“There was blood. Too much blood.” I lock my emotions away as I speak. I need to think clearly if I have any chance of saving her. I can’t think with my emotions, so I lock them up and swallow the key for a later time.
“Is she…?” Caius stutters.
“Is she dead? Probably,” I say heartlessly.
Caius’s mouth drops open, his eyes water as the shock of what I’m saying hits him. “But her body’s not there? So she might be?”
I nod.
Ri is silent this entire time sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but her bra and underwear. I ignore her. I’ll deal with her soon enough.
“Caius, listen to me. I need you to call everyone we know. Everyone who might have any ideas of who would want to hurt her. Call the police. And then start looking for her yourself.”
He blinks, coming out of stupor. “Yes, I’ll…wait, what are you going to do? Ri needs medical attention.”
I unhook the bag I had the foresight to bring up. “I’ll take care of Ri. I think she can help us find Odette. Then I’ll help find her.”
Caius runs to the door. Just before he walks out, I say, “We’re going to find her. I won’t stop until I find her.”
I can see the tears welling in Caius’s eyes. I’m not sure he’s strong enough to make the necessary calls and start the search, but it’s more necessary for me to talk to Ri than the police. The police won’t find Odette, but Ri might have a clue as to where she is.
The door falls shut, and then I’m alone with Ri. She’s still sitting in her underwear on the bed. She hasn’t reached for the clothes to dress herself. Based on how I find her with Caius, she knows how to use her body to control men.
“I’m sorry about your wife.”
Her words cut like stone through my heart.
“Don’t act like you’re surprised she’s missing, Princess.”
Her features narrow. “I should go. I need to see a doctor, and you need to find your wife.”
She stands.
I catch her arm and jerk her to me. My hot breath burns against her skin, and I know my touch against her side is painful, but she doesn’t react.
“Sit. Down.”
I release her, and for once, she sits without fighting me.
“I wish I knew where your wife was or who took her. I really do.” She squeezes her eyes shut.
I put my bag on the bed and unzip it, digging out the supplies I need as I kneel between her legs just like Caius was doing.
Her eyes fly open. “You’re going to help me?”
“Yes, because after I ensure you don’t bleed out in this hotel or die of an infection, you’re going to tell me everything you know. And then I’m going to use you to get my wife back.”
I expect her to argue, to fight. Whoever I trade her to to get Odette back won’t treat Ri kindly. My guess is it was her father she was running from in the first place. She won’t want to go back to him if he’s the one who stole Odette. And if it was the Phantom Brotherhood, then they’ll rape her, try to marry her off, or sell her. Her future isn’t pretty.
I look up into her eyes, gauging her reaction. There’s a
tear rolling down her cheek.
She wipes it away quickly, almost like she’s embarrassed. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you get your wife back.”
The tear wasn’t for herself. It was for my wife.
But this woman has hardened my heart to her after what I had to do to save her. And I don’t trust her.
“You’re an excellent actress, Princess.”
“You’re going to save her, Hero. If you did all of that just to save me, someone you hate, I can’t imagine the lengths you’ll go to to save her.”
I pull out some gauze to soak up enough of the blood so that I can go to work.
“Hold that there.”
She holds the gauze, and I quickly look around the room, finding a bottle of tequila on the dresser.
I grab it and hand it to her. “Drink. I don’t have any painkillers or lidocaine.”
She shakes her head.
“I have to stitch up your wound. I know how to do it, but it’s painful. Drink.” I push the bottle at her again.
“I’d rather be sober for what comes next. I can handle it.”
“I doubt that, Princess.”
I kneel between her legs again as I pull the needle out of the bag. This would be a lot easier with two hands, which just means she’s going to have to help me hold the wound closed.
I take her hand roughly and place her fingers on one side of the wound. Then I grab her other wrist just as roughly and place it on the other side. I expect her to wince at my touch. She doesn’t. But being rough with her hand and wound isn’t the same as a needle piercing her flesh over and over again.
I push her hands together, closing the wound.
“Hold your hands like that while I stitch the wound closed. Try not to cry out; I don’t want the neighbors to call the police.”
She huffs.
I doubt the princess has felt pain. She may have grown up in a dark world, but she had her father to protect her. Women in his family grow up with wealth. They are treated like shiny objects, possessions the men can control and parade around. It’s not a good life, but at least it’s not one where she has to worry about dying or being tortured, just her husband dying.