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Bishop's Endgame

Page 3

by Katie Reus


  “No,” she snapped. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” It was a stupid thing to say but the words were out before she could stop herself. She’d been helpless before and she hated this feeling. Hated everything about this. It was almost worse now because she was stone-cold sober. Did she have some kind of homing beacon that attracted insane people? Monsters? She’d been a victim before and had sworn she never would be again. Unfortunately life didn’t work like that. All the self-defense classes in the world weren’t going to help her against this giant man with a gun and knife.

  He scrubbed a hand over his masked face. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not. Your father took something from me and he’s going to pay.”

  Oh God, this was some kind of weird vendetta against her stepfather? “He’s my stepfather,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just tell me what you want. He’ll pay.” Or she was pretty sure he would. She wasn’t close to Vitaly, not really. After her mother had died, then her half-brother, she and her stepfather didn’t see each other often. She wasn’t even planning on going over to his place for Christmas this year, choosing to spend it with friends instead. And he only lived in Orlando, not that far from Miami.

  Though at that thought, she wondered if she would even make it to Christmas, or even tomorrow morning. The way things were looking… No. She wasn’t going to let her head go in that direction. She was going to get through this.

  “Come on,” he ordered, stepping back so she could walk out of the bathroom.

  She turned sideways as she moved past him, careful not to touch him anywhere. It wasn’t like she had any control but she wasn’t going to touch the guy unless she had to.

  Inside her bedroom she stood there staring at one of her bookshelves, feeling lost and out of sorts. Everything looked foreign to her, from her closed bamboo blinds and the sheer gray drapes that fell over them to the white and pale lavender pin-tuck comforter set. It was as if she was looking at something that wasn’t hers.

  “Pack enough for a few days.”

  A few days? She swallowed hard as she tried to focus on his words, to think about where her overnight bag was. As she stepped toward her closet, she remembered that her stepfather had given her a gun. She’d never used it, but he’d been insistent so she’d tucked it away in her closet. It was in a little lockbox and the key was in her nightstand.

  She turned toward her nightstand and she swore he must have read her mind because he said, “I’ve got your little twenty-two special, so don’t even think about going for the key.”

  Any sense of hope she had fled at his words. Swallowing hard she pulled out a little duffel bag covered in dancing unicorns.

  He frowned as she put the bag on the bed.

  “What?” she whispered, unable to fight the trembles rolling through her—and barely pushing back the nausea.

  He didn’t respond, just looked at her then at the bag in a sort of confused state.

  He didn’t like unicorns? Well screw him. She didn’t like being kidnapped.

  Arianna moved quickly, grabbing random pieces from her closet. She had no idea where he was taking her, or what he really wanted other than revenge against her stepfather. Would he torture her to get back at her stepfather? When she went to open her underwear drawer, she paused then looked at him. She didn’t want him seeing all her intimate things; it made her feel even more vulnerable.

  He snapped to attention and pushed her aside to peer in the drawer.

  “Oh…” Clearing his throat, he stepped back as if the sight of her underwear made him uncomfortable.

  She grabbed a bundle and shoved them in the bag without looking at anything she’d taken or at him. “How’d you get in my house? I have an alarm system.” She knew she probably shouldn’t push, but she wanted to know. He’d kidnapped her but she’d been passed out when they’d gotten here. And she knew she’d turned her alarm system on when she left for her meeting. She always did.

  He paused, as if he wasn’t going to answer. Then, to her surprise he said, “I used your thumbprint to open your phone, then disabled your security system from the app. You should have had a lock on the app.”

  She blinked at his tone and words. She’d set up the app so that she didn’t have to type in the damn code every time because her phone itself had a lock. Oh God, she wanted to kick herself.

  But she couldn’t think like that. She had to escape, had to get away. To get help. Otherwise she was definitely going to end up with a bullet in her head.

  Chapter 3

  Ellis pulled into the garage of his safe house, very aware of the tied-up woman on the floorboards behind him. Bringing her here was a risk but she was the weakest link in the organization. And he was going to use her to his advantage—use her against her father.

  Her tears had bothered him earlier, and he could admit that he didn’t like using a woman this way. But he was going to get his life back and he was going to make sure Carter’s killer went to jail.

  She was dirty just like her father, using her cover as a schoolteacher to hide all of her ugly deeds. When he’d been working with his team for the DEA, she’d only been a name in a file. She’d hadn’t been important to them because as far as they’d known she’d had nothing to do with her father’s operations. They’d assumed she had no knowledge. So she’d been firmly off their radar.

  Now he knew differently. Because someone from his team, his boss if he had to guess, had covered up her involvement somehow. It was the only thing that made sense. Because Ellis had recently discovered offshore bank accounts in her name with millions of dollars in them.

  An elementary school teacher didn’t make millions of dollars to begin with, and even considering the trust her mother had left her—Arianna didn’t have close to that much money. So the fact that she was funneling millions offshore was very bad. And now he was going to get his answers. He was done hiding, done running for something he hadn’t done. He was going to use her to pull Vitaly out into the open, then crush him and his corrupt organization.

  Once the garage door closed behind him, he jumped out of the vehicle and opened the back door. He’d tied up Arianna’s hands and had a cover over her head so she wouldn’t know where he’d taken her. He pulled it off and she blinked a couple times before glaring up at him.

  “Sit up,” he ordered.

  She struggled to sit upright in the cramped space and he resisted the urge to help her. It went against everything in his nature to treat a woman like this. But if he didn’t stop her father from his ultimate plan, Ellis knew the man was going to release lethal designer drugs all over Miami and take over the criminal organization he was currently just a middleman in.

  Back when Ellis had been investigating Vitaly’s boss, Leonid Berezin, they’d discovered that Vitaly had been working with a chemist located in the Dominican Republic without his boss’s knowledge. It was a bold move, sneaky and treacherous and not at all surprising. Most of his operations were based out of Orlando but he’d been coming to Miami where his stepdaughter lived more and more. And they’d been almost certain that his next move was to flood the streets here. But first, Ellis was certain that Vitaly would take out, or attempt to take out, Berezin.

  Despite himself, Ellis helped Arianna get out of the SUV since it was so high up.

  She wrenched her arms away from him the moment her feet touched the concrete floor. Hate lingered in her eyes, the most beautiful, bright green eyes he’d ever seen. They seemed even brighter against her bronze skin. Her long, dark hair was down around her face in soft waves.

  A pretty little monster was what she was. She even looked innocent, with those big, beguiling eyes and her petite, soft body. Under normal circumstances, she would have been his type even if she was only twenty-five. As it was, she was going to jail if he had anything to say about it. Even if she wasn’t directly involved in the day-to-day operations of her stepfather, she was still helping her stepfather by hiding his money.

  Though to
look at her house or her shopping habits you would never know she had millions tucked away. He’d been watching her the last couple weeks, looking for weaknesses and habits, and he’d seen her pick up a few furniture pieces at consignment shops. She then took them home, refurbished them and sold them for a small profit. It was odd, but a damn good cover for the reality of her financial situation. She’d even won teacher of the year last year so she was really playing up her role to perfection.

  He guided her through to the mudroom, turned the alarm off, then reset it. “I picked this place because it has no neighbors. You can scream all you want.”

  Taking him off guard, she did just that, screaming her head off and making him wince.

  Shaking his head, he opened the other door into the kitchen even as she continued screaming bloody murder. “Jesus, no one can hear you, but it’s annoying. I’m going to gag you if you don’t stop.”

  “You told me to scream,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, well, don’t do it again.” He glanced down at her as they stepped into the kitchen.

  She was looking around curiously but the fear was definitely there. Good. He needed her afraid so she would cooperate with him.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to be accommodating and—”

  She kicked him in the knee before racing away in the direction of the garage.

  “Shit.” Ignoring the bite of pain in his leg, he rounded the center island and stopped her before she could escape the kitchen.

  Eyes wide, she punched at him as best she could, but he wrapped his arms around her to take away her leverage and pinned her against the quartz countertop.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. Stop thrashing around,” he gritted out.

  “If you think I’m going to be accommodating while you rape me—”

  “Jesus!” He jerked back, stunned, but didn’t let go of her. Of course she would be afraid of that. She was a woman and he’d kidnapped her. Fuuuuuuuck. “That’s not what this is about. I said accommodating because you’re going to sit here and listen to what I have to say.”

  Breathing hard, she stared up at him, glaring daggers, and he knew that if she’d had her hands free and a weapon, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

  It bothered him on a very deep level that she was afraid he would sexually assault her. He glanced away from her, unable to look into those angry eyes as he guided her to one of the seats at the island top. He moved quickly and secured her hands again because he wasn’t going to take a chance that she’d try to run. She wouldn’t get far but he didn’t feel like chasing her down and he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her.

  “Your stepfather took something of mine.” Technically her stepfather had killed his best friend and stolen Ellis’s life. “You’re going to help me get my life back. We’re going to take a trip down to the Cayman Islands—”

  She started laughing almost maniacally. “You’re out of your freaking mind if you think I’m going to willingly get on an airplane with you—”

  “And you are going to withdraw all of your dirty money,” he finished in a flat tone.

  She gaped at him. “Are you high? I don’t have any money in the Cayman Islands. I’m a freaking teacher! And yes, I know my stepfather makes a lot of money but that doesn’t mean I have any of it. Even the money my mom left me is in a trust and I don’t get it until I’m twenty-eight. If you want to ransom me, you’re going to have to ask him for the money. I don’t have access to any of his accounts,” she snapped. While she didn’t call him a dumbass, it was clear from her expression that was exactly what she thought he was.

  Damn, she was a really good liar. He flipped open two of the folders he’d left on the countertop. “Lie all you want. But this doesn’t.” He slid one folder in front of her and turned to the first page.

  She looked down at the bank account statements and frowned. “What is this?”

  “You tell me. It’s your money.”

  Frowning, she looked down again, reading more thoroughly. “Can you let one of my hands go?” she murmured as she leaned down, trying to get a better look at everything. He released one of her wrists and she started flipping the pages, faster and faster. “This doesn’t make any sense. It’s my name, but it has to be someone with the same name…”

  She trailed off, probably because she realized how ridiculous that sounded since there was a picture of her photo ID in the file as well.

  “Hey! How did they get this,” she shouted more to herself than him. “And that’s my signature!” Now she was indignant. She reached for the other file folder and started flipping through those papers as well. “This is ridiculous.” Shaking her head, she finally looked up at him. “This isn’t my money. I don’t know what all this is, but it’s not mine.”

  “Sure, and you didn’t go down to the Cayman Islands a month ago to make a hefty deposit.” He tapped his finger against a copy of the plane tickets. God, she was so convincing—so damn beautiful, and it annoyed the shit out of him. His partner was dead and she was lying straight to his face.

  “I didn’t,” she snapped, looking at the copies of her plane E-tickets. “Wait a minute,” she muttered, flipping over the papers again. “I wasn’t anywhere near the Cayman Islands for these dates, and I can prove it.”

  He snorted.

  “I’m serious. If you just give me a computer—”

  Now he was the one who laughed. Yeah, he’d just give her internet access, no problem. Now who was out of their mind?

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Use your phone or computer or whatever and I’ll tell you what to look up. I was at a teacher’s association function up in Tampa. It was a big to-do, a gala that took place on this Friday night.” She pointed to the date of the first plane ticket. “And at the time of this flight, I was definitely in Tampa. By chance I was sitting near the podium and I ended up in a bunch of the pictures because of the location of my seat. I had no idea until later, until some of my friends who hadn’t been there told me they liked my dress. Look it up. It’s all over the association’s website and a local paper in Tampa. And early the next morning, I ran a 10K for breast cancer awareness.” She rattled off the name of the sponsor. “Look on their Facebook page. Maybe even Instagram. I’m in a bunch of pictures at the finish line and my friend tagged me in a few. I never got any pictures myself, but there are plenty of me online.”

  Frowning, he did as she said and found all the images. He was quiet for a long moment as he digested this news, the lead ball in his gut expanding. He had to do more research, to make sure this was real. “Did you tell your stepfather about your travel plans? About the gala?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I could have but probably not. We don’t talk much. And since it’s pretty clear you’ve been stalking me you should know that!”

  “Those bank accounts are still yours.”

  She let out a frustrated growl. “If I had millions of dollars, do you think I would be living in my cute little cottage?” she snapped. Then she shook her head. “Scratch that, because I probably would be. I love that house, but whatever. Those aren’t my accounts. But sure, let’s go to the Cayman Islands and I’ll get all that money out for you,” she tossed at him as if he was crazy.

  Right about now, he was feeling it. He’d been so damn sure she was embedded with her father. Maybe she still was. But…he was really good at weeding out liars. His very life depended on it, especially when he’d gone undercover. And from what he could tell she’d been truly shocked to see these bank accounts. If these pictures were real, if she had been in the States for both of these events, he couldn’t see how she could have flown down to the Cayman Islands and gotten back so quickly. Not possible.

  He tapped his finger against the countertop, then stopped. “Come on.” He released her other wrist and motioned for her to stand.

  “Where are you taking me?” Fear laced her words, was evident in her eyes even as she stared up at him defiantly—and it ate at his insides.

&
nbsp; If he was wrong about her and he’d kidnapped an innocent woman… No. She was in this up to her eyeballs. She had to be.

  He led her to the attached living room and she sat while he picked up his laptop. Ellis worked quickly on his computer, looking over the images again and thoroughly checking out the social media pages of the organizations. He hadn’t found them before because they hadn’t been on her social media page directly—and he had definitely been monitoring her stuff.

  Arianna was quiet as he worked, digging even deeper into her life. He’d thought he had everything he needed but the more he dug, the heavier that sinking sensation in his gut grew. One of his former confidential informants had given him the tip on Arianna, but now…

  Now he was wondering how good this was at all. The bank accounts and the other information pointed in her direction but she was so genuinely surprised and indignant. And she’d never been on their radar back when he’d been with the administration.

  What if his former CI had lied? And what if this was all some sort of ploy by her stepfather for…something Ellis wasn’t seeing? Damn it. He rubbed a hand over his face, annoyed by the stupid mask.

  “Get up,” he said.

  She jerked slightly in surprise as his voice broke through the silence of the room, fear clear in her eyes as she stood. “What are we doing?”

  “You’re going to get some sleep.” He’d been burning it hard for the last forty-eight hours and he needed a couple hours of sleep. Maybe his head would be clearer in the morning and he would see what he was missing.

  She narrowed her gaze at him.

  He gently took her elbow and guided her up the stairs. The scent of her lavender and mint soap teased the air, soft and subtle. “In here.” He dropped her duffel bag on the bed. “Change into pajamas if you want. You’ve got two minutes.”

  He shut the door to give her some privacy. He’d made sure the windows were secure and there was no way she could get out of the small bathroom window regardless.

 

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