He didn't begrudgingly allow Dravin to torture me.
And they weren't enemies. They were partners.
It was the reason he'd participated in the torture the first night but not the rest, and the reason he pretended to care at all. It was a simple interrogation tactic that I'd learned in school as well as most cop shows on TV. It was pathetically basic, but I'd been in too much fear and shock to see it.
Dravin would hurt me, instill fear into me, and delude my mind bit by bit. Then the moment it was over, Jake would swoop in like some kind of superhero and 'save the day'. That was all right because, you know what? I'd let him. They didn't just make anyone a detective. I'd been through training, both on the job and in classrooms. I knew this man, and most importantly, I knew his weakness. His arrogance would defeat itself. It was ironic that the way to fool him was by using the same tactics he was using to fool me.
Jake rolled onto his side, facing me. He reached out as if searching for me, but I scooted as far away as I could, out of reach. I took in his tanned face with pure hatred. I was attracted to the man, and I couldn’t deny it. But it didn't matter. His insides were rotten, and if you looked closely you could see it sifting through his pores with all the bullshit charm. The only thing that mattered was that he was attracted to me.
I smiled as I felt myself coming back, and the pieces of my mind that'd fractured healed with the disgust that rolled in. I'd been so focused on the defense that I'd allowed them to easily beat me down. Now I had the ball, and Jake Cryson was going to see what mind games I could play. I'd have been surprised if he wasn't sneaking me out of the mansion himself in the next week.
The plans that formed in my head came to a screeching halt as the door to the room opened. Fear froze me in place and kept me from lifting my head, even though I was certain Jake had lied about Dravin not knowing I slept in his bed.
I didn't need to get the courage to lift my head because the graceful form of Isabella silently crept up to the nightstand on Jake's side, right in my line of sight. She glanced toward us several times as she searched for something, but Jake's breathing never wavered.
I lay perfectly still as she found what she’d come for. The screen of Jake's cell phone illuminated her face as she held it in her hand, revealing pearly white teeth flashing in a smile. After a few moments, I realized the room had gone silent and Jake's deep breathing no longer permeated the air.
The illuminated cell phone allowed me to better make out his eyes as they opened, and he whipped around to face Isabella. "What the hell are you doing?"
My heart stopped as I searched for some excuse to give on Isabella's behalf. Panic ensued, but it seemed to only come from me. Isabella's smile fell, but instead of the fear I'd expect to see, there was irritation written in her features.
"I just need it for a minute."
Jake sat up in bed and reached out his hand. Isabella glared at him a moment before reluctantly setting the device in his palm.
"I already told you no. I'm not telling you again. Get out."
"What's the big deal? Why are you being such a dick?"
I expected Jake to go berserk. To jump up and assert his dominance over Isabella for such disrespect. What was she thinking? The man was a psychopath and dangerous beyond comprehension. Surely she knew that. As his arm lifted, I grabbed it on impulse. Jake's eyes met mine for a brief moment before he shrugged my hand away and tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. He didn't have the rage in his eyes that he'd had for the guard. Not even close. It was more like annoyance.
"Maddix is fine, Isabella. He'll be back in a few days. You can talk to him then."
Her eyes flashed a hint of panic as the man's name was said, but she quickly recovered. I think both of our hearts stopped then as we waited to see if Jake had noticed the reaction.
Maddix. My informant. The only one I had close enough to Jake Cryson to get any leads at all. The one roaming around Canada right now looking for a man who we hoped to recruit as another informant. And apparently, this woman's friend.
"Fine," she huffed.
Her eyes found mine once again, but this time they narrowed. She didn't like me. In fact, she seemed very irritated by my presence.
"Night, detective," she sneered before stomping out of the room.
What. The. Hell.
Jake said nothing as he lay back down and closed his eyes. The clock on the nightstand told me it was two in the morning, and suspicion began to seep into my bones. Was this another mind game? Did he have her fake this just to throw me off? How was he letting this go? So much confusion swarmed my head that it ached.
"Sir?" I asked, attempting to appease his gigantic ego.
His eyes opened, but he looked disinterested. "It's late, Laila. Just go back to sleep."
The more I thought about it, the more questions arose. Was Isabella mad that I slept in the same bed as Jake? Where did she sleep? They continued coming like bullets from a machine gun. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't told Jake I'd met Isabella, yet yesterday he seemed to already know about it. Which means she had told him. It had to be some kind of mind game, but I needed to know how he expected me to act so that I could play along. So far, his closed eyes told me nothing.
"Sir, is she upset that I'm in here?"
A heavy sigh blew over Jake's lips before he opened his eyes again. "Does it matter?"
Honestly, yes. It absolutely did matter because if she were upset due to jealousy it made it all the more likely they were fucking with me. It wasn't totally off-the-wall. After all, it's not as if he didn't play the same mind games with Isabella.
"I just… I mean if I'm taking her spot, I could sleep somewhere else."
He laughed dryly and shook his head. "Isabella has her own room and no interest in who sleeps in my bed. She's just a bitch sometimes. Let it go."
I wanted to let it go. Just thinking of Isabella made me sick to my stomach because it reminded me of the awfulness that was the man beside me. Unfortunately, I couldn't because the more that was revealed, the more it didn't make sense.
I considered my next words carefully. I in no way wanted to bring up Maddix's name, but if I said nothing about what just occurred it might be even more suspicious.
"Do you let her talk to her family on the phone?"
Jake's eyes searched mine, and it sent goosebumps over my skin. I was terrified to know what he looked for. "We're not playing our little game right now, Laila. Anything involving my slave is none of your concern, and I have no desire to discuss her any further. Is that clear?"
The authority in his tone I thought I'd gotten used to long ago sent my body sinking into the bed and my gaze lowering. "Yes," I whispered.
This time when Jake's eyes closed it was a relief, and my curiosity vanished. The man had the ability to put me at ease as well as he had the ability to send every nerve screaming the word danger to my brain. How Isabella wasn't afraid of him confounded me, but I wouldn't figure it out tonight.
I closed my eyes and waited for sleep, pretending I didn't notice this time when he reached around to hold me. His mind games would never work on me, but it sure as hell beat the torture.
11
Jake
"It's been two months, Mr. Cryson. You keep us waiting much longer and we'll be forced to search for a new supplier."
The voice coming from the speaker phone in my office had a similar effect on my ears as running a nail over a chalkboard. The man must've smoked two packs a day for the past forty years, and the gravel that seemed to permanently reside in his throat emphasized that.
"Of course, Marshall. If that's the direction you wish to go I understand, although I won't promise my colleagues will."
Marshall's scratchy breathing drifted through the speaker but he said nothing. My eyes flicked to Dravin who sat on the other side of my desk. His brows were knitted together and arms crossed. He glared at the speakerphone as if the man were really here.
I stifled a laugh but allowed my lips to qu
irk up. This had originally been Dravin's call, but Marshall refused to deal with him. It wasn't surprising. Marshall had pulled the same shit with me when Kevin left, but he came around. Still, it was comical to see the steam billow from Dravin's ears.
"Let me talk to someone from a different branch. They'll have a shipment sent over right away."
"All right," Marshall said, a bit of tension in his tone. "And I want a discount."
Dravin's jaw clenched, and he shifted in his seat.
"No discounts, Marshall, this isn't Walmart. I'll talk to them and get back with you tomorrow morning. Sound good?"
Dravin leaned forward and clicked off the line before Marshall had a chance to answer. His eyes stared into mine the whole time. "You talk to the man as if he's a friend."
My eyes narrowed and heat crept up my neck. "I talk to him like a business associate with mutual interests."
He leaned back, not bothering to hide the smirk. "Any progress on the girl?"
"Getting there."
"God damn it, Jake," Dravin said, running a hand over his face. He stared off into space for a moment before turning back to me. "I'm taking over from here."
The heat on my neck grew to flames and spread throughout my body. "Taking over? What's your big plan, Dravin?"
"I have people to answer to! And you act like it's no big deal. Do you fucking realize what happens if this isn't wrapped up soon?"
Anger permeated Dravin's words, and it eased some of my own. I did know what would happen, and I wanted to laugh in his face. Dravin was expendable. His position in the company, along with his life, depended on whether or not he could prove himself. Unfortunately for him, I would do everything I could to show his incompetence.
"I do," I said, forcing sympathy into my tone. "But we're close. Switching things up will only deter the woman more."
He leaned back and sighed. The truth to my words seemed to register with Dravin. "I'll call another branch for the shipment. Just work the girl."
I nodded and lifted from the chair. Dravin looked as if he hadn't slept in days and the sight eased my anger further. In its place was pure amusement. I couldn't wait until this shit was over, and I could rid myself of this needy bastard.
Picking up my cell phone, I strolled from the room and headed upstairs. He was right. I needed to spend more time with Laila. The very idea gave me conflicting emotions. On one hand, it sent all the right kinds of heat straight to my groin area, but on the other, it made me uncomfortable. I was finding it more and more difficult to read her as time went on, when I should've had her pegged by now. I still couldn't shake the feeling that she'd tried fooling me with my own game, and it made me suspicious of her actions from then on out.
I thought of this as I stood outside the bedroom door, readying myself. She was strong. Too strong. This morning when I'd woken, I'd had my arm wrapped around her. I'd breathed in her scent before opening my eyes to meet hers.
"Good morning, sir," she'd said in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard. My morning wood had nearly ripped out of my boxers before I made my excuses to get the hell out of there. The woman was either a temptress or a snake, and I suspected the latter. My dick on the other hand didn't give a shit which it was.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the room with the best smile I could plaster on my face. If she was trying to play a game with me, she was about to lose.
Laila sat up straighter on the bed and set the book she'd been reading down beside her. The metal handcuff clanked with each of her movements, and already my cock stirred to life.
"Hey," I said, walking up to the bed and retrieving the handcuff key from the nightstand drawer, just out of her reach.
"Hey," she whispered back. She appeared hesitant as I removed the cuff. It was a complete turnaround from the woman I’d woken up to this morning.
"Something wrong?" I asked, annoyed with my inability to keep up.
She peered at me with those doe eyes and absently rubbed at her wrist. "You're not usually back this early… Is everything okay with you?"
I could hear the fear in Laila's tone. It was too genuine to be an act. Not even the most talented performer could pull off that much sincerity. I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the frame. I was so tired and could've easily gone back to sleep.
I allowed Laila to worry for herself. None of it was uncalled for. Dravin was getting restless and soon he would indeed take over. His methods would be far more aggressive than mine thus far.
"Jake?"
I glanced toward Laila and almost smiled at the woman trying not to shake. My lips remained in a tight line, however.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
Several more seconds passed before I finally answered. "Dravin is getting impatient."
Laila nodded as a great sadness overtook her features. She knew what it meant. The torture would get worse. Much worse, and it wouldn't stop until she gave up the informant. No more allowing her mind to fade out.
"I know what you're doing, you know." Laila's voice caught in her throat and spoiled the sense of strength she'd tried to muster. She didn't need it. Anyone in their right mind could see how tough she was.
"What's that?"
"Letting Dravin be the bad guy. Acting as if you have any intention of helping me so that I'll trust you. I'm not stupid."
"I know you're not stupid," I whispered. I reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind Laila'a ear. I held it there for a moment, cupping her ear and leaning closer. "But I'm not pretending to be the good guy. I'm a bastard and I know it. I will help you only if you help me."
"How would that help you?" she whined. "You basically laughed at me for not knowing anything, so why does it even matter?"
I retreated my hand and allowed a deep breath to sweep across my lips. All the while I stared at Laila's, wanting more than anything to lean into them and forget about all this other bullshit. Just for a little while.
"It just does."
"No," she protested with a shake of her head. "That's not good enough."
"Well it has to be."
I pulled away from Laila and leaned back into the headboard. My eyes closed, and I tried to shut off my thoughts. I just needed a little rest. The weight that'd been placed on my shoulders continued to pile on, and I felt like I was sinking into the ground because of it. Those were the kinds of thoughts I swore not to allow myself to humor, but every now and then I found myself drifting there, and I thought of what life would be like if I weren't my father's son.
"Do you promise?" Laila asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I opened my eyes and glanced her way. I imagined the weight on her shoulders was just as heavy. "Promise what?"
"That you'll help me."
A sad smile played on my face. I didn't have the energy to lie to her. Not right then at least. So I couldn't tell her the whole truth, but I nodded and I'd meant it. I would help Laila, just not to the extent she hoped for.
Laila scooted closer so that we were shoulder to shoulder. She couldn't seem to bring herself to ask for the comfort she sought, and after a minute I wrapped my arm around her. She came unglued then, leaning into me with her face buried in my chest.
"I can't do it again. Please, don't make me. Please, Jake, I can't."
Her words were barely coherent with her broken voice muffled against my chest. It seemed as if her psyche had finally snapped and she was a day away from spreading feces on the walls.
"Calm down, Laila," I cooed as I squeezed her with one arm while rubbing her back with the other.
"No!" she screeched, digging her nails into my pecs. "Jake, promise me. Please, please, promise me you won't make me go back down there."
"I can't promise something that isn't up to me."
"Bullshit," she said, jerking back. "You're lying. I know you're lying. I'll play your fucking games. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just please make it stop."
So much emotion dripped from Laila, it was electric. This was it.
Here we go.
"The name, Laila. Give me the name and I promise you won't ever have to go down there again."
She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment. I assumed she attempted to regain herself, but when they opened relief flooded me. It was over.
"James Williams."
My eyebrows pinched as I tried to recover a memory of the man she named. "I don't know who that is," I said. "Does he have a nickname?"
Laila wiped at her eyes and shrugged. "I don't know it if he does. He was one of the men who worked for Kevin Cryson."
Worked. As in past tense.
"Then how do you have information about me and the manor? Current enough information that you knew where I'd be when you followed me."
"He has his own people who give him information. He's never told me who, and refuses to. He knows what you people do to informants."
I absently nodded as I considered Laila's words. It made sense. The guy didn't know much about me and my business, but apparently knew about Kevin's. He just happened to have a buddy close to me. Hell, my guy, whoever it was, probably didn't even know that this James asshole was an informant. Leave it to my fucking brother to create this big of a mess.
"What about the others?" I finally asked after accepting Laila's words.
"People who worked for Kevin and were angry when he disappeared. We caught them for pettier crimes, but they couldn't provide any evidence besides a testimony. None of them gave us anything substantial. I think there were three, and they all disappeared several months ago. We just let it go."
"And they worked for Kevin as?"
"Traffickers," Laila said, swallowing the disgust that I imagined crawled up her throat just by saying the word.
I didn't have to wonder so much about who they were and where they'd gone. Snake, the man we currently tracked in Canada, I assumed was one along with a couple of nobodies who probably wound up mouthing off to the wrong person and in a grave. Kevin's replacement preferred to hire his own men, so several people were 'let go'.
"All right," I said squeezing Laila's shoulder once again.
Dethroned (Darker Places Book 3) Page 9