Trick's Trap (A Singular Obsession Book 5)

by Lucy Leroux

Her feet were already aching from the running along the hard, unforgiving pavement. Trying to find a place to hide, she ducked into the open space between two buildings only to find the way barred by a chain-link fence.

  She almost turned around to backtrack, but the sound of pursuit spurred her forward. Panting, she ran and began to scale the fence, heedless of the spikes poking out from the top.

  Nimble and in decent shape from carrying loaded catering trays, Tahlia climbed without incident, but she misjudged her footing while trying to clear the top. She half-slid down the other side, scraping the spot under her breast with a spike on the way down.

  Disoriented by the sudden pain, she fell the last few feet, landing on her foot awkwardly before tipping backward into a pile of garbage.

  Momentarily dazed, she lay there catching her breath until the fence rattled. She jerked, her eyes flying up to meet a savage face. A dark-haired man gripped the thin steel wire. He sneered at her and began to climb.

  Scrambling to her feet, Tahlia tried to run, but each step was agony. The foot she’d landed on was having a problem supporting her weight.

  “No.”

  Tears streamed down her face. It was over. She wasn’t going to get away this time.

  But Tahlia didn’t stop. The instinct to survive was too strong to give herself up. Not after what they had done to her father.

  The anonymous brick buildings ahead of her were dark. She had no idea where she was or how to find help.

  A thump sounded. The man jumped the fence, clearing the garbage she’d fallen into easily.

  Please, God. After so many months successfully evading capture, it couldn’t end like this.

  She didn’t know if anyone up there heard her or not, but her prayer was answered in the form of an open doorway on her left.

  The upper stories of this building were lit. Praying she’d find an occupied office or a security guard, Tahlia shot through the door, only to find herself at the top of a dimly lit wooden staircase. The bottom disappeared into complete darkness.

  There was no time to second-guess her choice with pursuit so close behind. She started running down the stairs.

  “Hey!” the man shouted, careening after her.

  Ignoring him, she jumped down.

  It was a huge mistake. Tahlia landed on her bad foot. It folded underneath her. She lost her balance, coming down too hard on the next step. The brittle board under her splintered, throwing her against the rail.

  The rickety structure was too weak to withstand the impact. Her body plowed through the flimsy barrier. Unable to catch herself, she sailed over the edge and to the floor below.

  Tahlia’s scream was cut off when her head rapped on the concrete twice, despite an effort to brace herself. Winded and racked with pain, she lay there, stunned.

  Get up. Ears ringing, she tried to get up, only to collapse back down on the ground. Dizzy and unable to see, she crawled under the stairs, her entire body blazing in pain.

  The last thing she heard was the pounding of feet on the stairs over her head.

  He was coming.

  Chapter 14

  Trick rechecked every inch of the casino twice over. Tahlia was gone.

  “They came for her,” he repeated, pacing the kitchen. Ethan and Jason were on the phone. He didn’t know who they were talking to, but whoever it was, they were too late.

  Fuck. He’d had his arm around her and then boom! Someone literally snatched her from his grasp.

  Ethan looked up. “The locals are setting up a search grid. We’ll go building to building if we have to.”

  Trick shook his head. His instincts were screaming. “It won’t do any good. Whoever took her was a pro. He knew enough to take out the lights with us unawares and to come prepared for the dark.”

  They found a pair of night-vision goggles under a stool at the bar. That more than anything sent a chill through him. He couldn’t decide whether it was a fear or an icy cold rage. Either way, he refused to let it overwhelm him. Now was the time to think and plan.

  I’ll contact every criminal I know and make them spread the word. A million dollars for Tahlia’s safe return, no questions asked. It would probably fail, but at least it was him doing something.

  “Damn it,” he hissed aloud, trying to come up with other ideas.

  I need Liam. His brother was an overbearing ass sometimes, but he was also a mover. Liam made things happen. No one had ever been able to stop him from getting what he wanted.

  Trick reached into his pocket to make the call. His phone wasn’t there. He patted down his suit and swore. It must have slipped out of his pocket when he got knocked to the ground.

  He stuck his head in the main room. The only people left were the waiters and dealers. The rest of the guests had left already, each one cleared by Ethan before they let them go.

  “Did anyone see a phone?”

  The staff shook their heads in turn, one offering to help him search.

  “Hey, man,” Ethan interrupted.

  Trick held out his hand. “Where did you find it?”

  “Find what?”

  “I thought you had my phone,” he said, frowning. “Can I borrow yours to call Liam?”

  A flicker of distaste crossed Ethan’s face. The agent and his brother still weren’t getting on.

  “I’m coordinating with the locals. The phone in the kitchen works. What happened to yours?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been missing since I got tackled. For all I know, our perp picked it up.” He scowled. If that was the case, then the phone was sitting in a dumpster right now.

  “Or another guest took it. I can have it traced if it’s still on,” Ethan offered.

  “Can’t hurt, I guess,” he said, walking to the kitchen.

  Trick was still trying to reach Liam in Boston when Ethan rushed in.

  “Hey. Your phone is stationary almost four blocks from here.” Ethan pulled on his jacket. “Jason, head’s up! We’re going out with the locals.”

  “You don’t think the perp still has it, do you?” Trick refused to get excited over the possibility.

  Ethan grimaced. “We won’t know till we check. C’mon, get your ass in gear.”

  Grateful to be moving, Trick followed. A uniformed police officer was waiting outside. He was holding a pair of black high heels.

  “Where did you find those?”

  “Around the corner near the fire escape,” the man answered.

  Trick swiveled to face Ethan. “Where is that?”

  “Outside the bathroom,” he answered, gesturing for him to follow him.

  Another officer was staring up. The ladder on the fire escape was pulled down.

  “Is this the way he brought her down or did she get away on her own?”

  “I don’t know, but check this out.” Ethan shifted a few yards down, bending to pick up a discarded poker chip. He straightened and pointed down the alley. “And your phone is that way.”

  The next breadcrumb on the trail, he thought, climbing into a police cruiser with Ethan.

  Another car followed them. They drove a short distance before Ethan told the beat cop to stop outside the open door of a nondescript apartment building.

  “Stay in the car,” Ethan ordered him, gesturing to the officer to follow him.

  Fuck that. Trick climbed out of the backseat with the others, a belligerent scowl on his face.

  He slammed the door behind him. Ethan turned and swore. “Fine, asshole, but if you get your head blown off, I’m not going to be the one to tell your sister,” he spat. “At least stay up here until we clear the building.”

  The doorway opened onto some sort of basement. Trick caught a glimpse of a decrepit staircase before Ethan led the officers down. They were all holding their flashlights and guns the way cops did on detective shows.

  A minute or two later, a sickly fluorescent light turned on. One of the cops must have found a switch.

  “Trick.”

  Ethan hadn’t shouted lou
d, but Trick knew he’d found something. He bounded down the stairs, hopping over a missing step. Ethan was crouched next to the space under the stairway, surrounded by the local cops.

  Trick pushed his way past them. “Tahlia!”

  She was crumpled in a little ball covered in dirt with a smear of what appeared to be blood on her face and hand. Ethan was taking her pulse, but she didn’t react until he shouted. She groaned.

  Shit! He crouched next to Ethan. “Tahlia, are you all right?”

  At the sound of his voice, she stirred and blinked up at him. For a second, her eyes cleared and she appeared to recognize him, but then her lashes fluttered closed as she slumped over unconscious.

  Chapter 15

  A whispered argument pulled Tahlia from sleep.

  “I’m not leaving Calen,” a woman hissed. “So you can go back to work or go bother Liam for a few hours.”

  Blinking, she opened her eyes to a bright sunlit room. Tahlia was in a huge bed almost bigger than the entirety of her old bedroom in Cambridge. The coverlet was a crisp pristine white, the kind she’d only seen in pictures of fine hotel rooms.

  “Tahl?”

  She turned her head to see a very pregnant Maia MacLachlan sitting in an armchair next to the bed. Hovering in the doorway to her right was her husband Calen. He was standing just in front of Patrick.

  Patrick looked so relieved. His smile was small but filled with joy.

  Tahlia burst into tears. Arms encircled her awkwardly. Maia had climbed on the bed and was trying to hug her, but the baby bump was getting in the way. For some reason, that made her cry harder.

  Her whole body shook as she pressed her face against Maia’s thigh. Her friend made incoherent soothing noises, in between hisses ordering the men to leave.

  Long minutes passed as she sobbed uncontrollably. It was as if a dam inside her burst. Tahlia hadn’t cried when she was attacked in her apartment or at any time on the streets. It was only now she didn’t have to be on guard that she allowed herself to break down.

  For the moment, she was safe.

  Eventually, the storm passed. Wrung out, Tahlia hiccupped, shivering in the aftermath. Sniffing, she raised her head to see how many people had witnessed her lapse in control. Thankfully, she and Maia were alone.

  “I made them leave,” Maia said, her sweet little elfin face as warm as Tahlia remembered.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Tahlia sniffed, moving her hands to cover her face. She winced at an unexpected pain. There was a brace strapped to her left wrist.

  Maia rubbed her back. “It’s a sprain, but it’s not as bad as the one of your ankle. You also have a bandage for a deep scrape over your ribs, a few of which are bruised, but not cracked—I had cracked ribs once; it hurt like hell. You’ve been in and out the whole night. Our doctor took a scan of your head. You also have a mild concussion, but you’re going to be okay.”

  If she’d been unconscious, how mild could it have been? Tahlia shifted on the bed with a grunt, pulling her bandaged wrist closer. “The man wrenched it,” she mumbled.

  “What man?” Trick demanded from the door.

  “I told you to wait outside,” Maia admonished with a scowl. She pointed at the door. “Go. I’ll tell you when you can come back.”

  In the doorway, Trick compressed his lips, giving Maia a look of mingled frustration and indulgence. He nodded and retreated, pulling the door partway behind him.

  “Close it for real this time,” Maia said in a loud voice. There was a beat before the door snapped shut.

  “Pregnancy makes you bossy,” Tahlia joked weakly.

  “I am enjoying the power trip,” Maia said, sounding adorably smug. “But it doesn’t work on Calen anymore. Not since the doctor ordered me on bedrest.”

  Guilt tightened her chest. “Oh Maia, you shouldn’t be here. You need to rest.”

  Maia gestured to the California king. “Hey, I’m on a bed.”

  Tahlia frowned, taking in the room around her. Everything was obviously expensive but nondescript and impersonal. This wasn’t her friend’s penthouse.

  “Um, where is this bed exactly?”

  Maria patted her hand. “You, my dear, are in the inner sanctum—the penthouse floor of the Caislean in Boston.”

  “I’m in Boston?” In Patrick’s hotel no less.

  Well, that explained his hovering presence. Tahlia bit her lip, examining the dark mahogany furnishings and tasteful paintings on the wall.

  This place screamed money and prestige. She felt as if she was soiling it just being here.

  Maia gripped her hand. “I wanted you to come home with me, but Trick kicked up a fuss about having you here instead. It is a secure building, especially at the penthouse level. There is even on-call medical staff. That’s the reason I let him win.” She shrugged, stroking Tahlia’s hair.

  Tahlia pulled away. “I must be filthy.” It was as if a grimy film was enveloping her body. Her hair was hanging in greasy clumps. Someone had wiped her face and arms with a damp cloth, but she needed a shower…followed by one or two hot baths.

  “You’re fine,” Maia said. “But there’s a nurse waiting to tend to your every need. I’m sure she can help you bathe if you want to get clean.” She broke off and grinned, leaning conspiratorially closer. “At first, the agency sent a young male nurse, a rather handsome one. Trick took one look and sent the poor man away, insisting on a replacement. He said you’d be more comfortable with a female nurse—as if he would know.”

  “He’s right.” She would have felt uncomfortable having a male nurse help her bathe. No one had seen her naked before. She’d never even changed in a locker room in front of anyone because she’d been homeschooled.

  Maia waved that away. “Doesn’t matter. It’s Trick’s reaction that counts. I’ve never seen him act like that before. He’s got it bad.”

  Blushing, Tahlia averted her eyes.

  “I can’t believe you met him playing poker,” Maia continued. “He’s an excellent player. He wins huge tournaments all the time, but you creamed him right out of the gate.”

  Tahlia’s brow creased. “He told you about that?”

  “Oh, yes. It was almost as if he were bragging about losing to you…and I had no idea you even knew how to play.”

  Chagrined, Tahlia pressed her lips together. “It was a secret.”

  One of many.

  Maia nodded as if she understood. “We were pretty shocked to discover Trick was the last person to see you before you disappeared.”

  Her chest constricted. “He wasn’t exactly.”

  Tears stung at her eyes again in defiance of her belief she was completely spent.

  Her friend didn’t say anything. She just held her hand and waited.

  “They’re crazy,” Tahlia confessed in a whisper. Her heart raced, the panic clawing at her as if trying to stop her from saying it aloud.

  “Who is?” Maia asked. “Is it your family?”

  She nodded, too overcome with rolling waves of adrenaline to speak. Talking about her family always terrified her—and that was by design.

  The refrain of ‘family first’ had been drilled into her head since before she could walk. To her family, it wasn’t just a motto—it was an all-encompassing way of life. Absolute loyalty was the rule. She was never supposed to speak about them to an outsider. Revealing their darkest secret was enough to make her spiral, even after they made their enmity toward her clear.

  “You can tell me anything,” Maia assured her. “And I won’t share it with anyone else if you don’t want me to—not even Trick, no matter how hard he pushes. You say the word, and I zip my lips and throw away the key.”

  That was a sweet offer, but Tahlia wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. She was a wreck both physically and mentally. As much as she wanted to avoid dragging anyone into her mess, she needed time to recover and regroup. Holding back while she was near these kind people might make things worse.

  “No. I want you to tell Patrick. He thinks he can h
elp me.” She broke off and stared at her hands. “That’s because he’s rational. I could see the gears turning in his head when we played. He’s quick and takes risks, but he operates in a totally logical way. But my family doesn’t respond to rational. They’re flat-out insane—”

  She broke off, swallowing reflexively.

  Maia squeezed her arm. “It’s going to be okay. We can protect you from whatever they throw at us.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s not one or two of them. It’s everyone. They are all mental because—and I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud—they worship the devil.”

  Maia blinked, her lips parted and pulled down.

  “Well, not the devil,” Tahlia amended. “It’s a demon to be precise.”

  Whatever Maia had expected to hear, it hadn’t been that. “As in a cult?” she asked, her nose twitching.

  A shuddering sigh escaped her. “I guess that’s close enough. There’s no church or magnetic leaders. No one talks about it openly. It’s a secret, but all the men and most of the women—they worship this particular demon. They think he really exists.”

  “Why?”

  It was a fair question. Despite knowing what they did, the reason hadn’t been discussed in her presence. It had taken her years to piece together an answer. “In exchange for their devotion, our family is supposed to prosper. Every investment succeeds, we’re blessed with good health, disasters don’t harm us, etcetera, etcetera. But that means they have to give the devil his due or it all goes away.”

  “Huh.” Maia frowned, seemingly at a loss for words.

  “I told you it was insane.” Tahlia collapsed back on the pillow. Her confession had drained her. All she could do was lie there, overwhelmed by the surreal nightmare that was her life.

  “Why do they want you?”

  Tahlia couldn’t tell her the reason. It was just a guess on her part in any case. Any chance for real answers died with her father.

  “The other members of the family couldn’t believe it when my father let me go off to school. No one leaves. No one has friends outsides the family, or a life of any kind. When they grabbed me, they drugged me. I woke up in my bedroom at home in Florida. No one was there guarding me. I wasn’t tied up. I just walked out into the hall and down to my father’s office. I needed money, so I took it from his desk. He always had at least a grand or more in there. That’s when I saw he was there.”