by Lexy Timms
“Shame. I’d love to see you with your arms and legs stretched open and tied down.”
“Saks! I didn’t know you were so kinky,” she teased behind a bright smirk.
“I’m a man of many talents. But, mostly, I’d love to tie you down to make sure you don’t walk into danger. What makes you think this Kovel bloke has anything to do with Jessica’s disappearance?”
Within the grip of Saks’ arms, Chrissy’s eyes narrowed in thought. There wasn’t anything concrete for her to go on, not really. It was more of a gut feeling, and the fact that they had no other leads to speak of. “When I met the guy, I knew something was off about him. He was all about getting Jessica’s number, and zeroed in on her like he was some shark. I can’t really tell you it’s anything more than that, just a gut feeling.”
“Well, I like to think your instincts and feelings are quite good. In fact, I like how you feel when I hold you against me,” Saks murmured with just the touch of amusement she needed.
Biting down a quiet bit of laughter, she leaned into his chest and held him tight. “I like it, too. But we have someplace to go and I need to get my party face on.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “and I have a phone call to make.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ever since Saks had heard Alexi’s voice and listened in on Chrissy’s playing along to meet up with him, his blood had been boiling. Deep down he knew she wasn’t interested in the man, but hearing her sweet- talk him set him on edge, and the idea of her stepping into any danger left him biting his tongue to keep from outright protesting.
Saks had just picked up Chrissy’s phone to make a call, when a sound coming from Pearson’s room caught his ear. He stood, instantly on edge, and crept toward the door as silently as he could. Caution kept him from stepping in, though there was only one way in or out. Plus the apartment featured sealed windows, and they were up on the fourth floor.
Silence rang back out at him, leaving him to wonder if it hadn’t just been his imagination, when a loud scraping noise reverberated through the room.
Chrissy, at that moment, strode back into the living room, and he put his finger to his lips and then pointed to Pearson’s bedroom. She froze mid-step, and his breath hung still in his chest as the door began to creak open.
Saks’ swinging fist had nearly connected with the intruder before he yanked himself back and nearly fell off balance.
“Grandfather?” Chrissy gawked, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
“Chrissy?” The man’s brow fell. “I thought you were home.”
“Doesn’t explain why you’re here,” she said with a huff. “And where the hell did you come from? The police thoroughly searched the apartment.”
“They didn’t find his panic room in his bedroom. You didn’t know it was there?” the old man asked, as if it was the simplest explanation of all.
“No.” Her arms slipped angrily across her chest.
“I stuffed myself in there when the lock turned. I mean, there is only room for one in there.”
“You still haven’t explained why you’re here, in this apartment.”
“I was looking for information on where to find Kosikov.” He glanced around the room. “I’d be sorry for the mess I made, except that Kosikov is a real piece of work. He wanted to kidnap you and ransom you to our cousins in Italy. That’s why I came over here. Kosikov advanced the deal even before they snatched you. That Pearson is a cagey one. He’s been working that slime Kosikov, but he must have hidden in the panic room while Kosikov’s men came in and took Jessica. At first, I thought they had you. All I saw in the alley was the flash of blonde hair.”
It took several seconds for Chrissy to even speak. Several times her lips parted, but no words came out. Clear as day, a fount of emotions rolled across her face from sadness, to anger, to guilt. “You saw this? And did nothing?” Chrissy demanded angrily.
“What did you expect me to do? It’s not like I can go to the police and announce that a Ukrainian crime boss was trying to extort money from an Italian one.”
“He has a point,” Saks murmured.
Pandolfo Serafini looked to Saks. “And what are you doing here?”
“Protecting Chrissy. Which is what her family should have done in the first place.”
Pandolfo Serafini snorted. “As if my granddaughter isn’t as stubborn as the rest of the women in the family. The best I could do was get Vince to push up the surgery to get Chrissy to leave London.”
“You did what?” Chrissy exclaimed. Her eyes were blazing.
“What did you expect me to do, young lady? You didn’t listen to any of us.”
“And you did nothing to protect Jessica?”
“No. Look, it wasn't like that. I only got here yesterday. All I found out was Kosikov delayed the hand-off. But I got word today that that the deal was back on, so I came here to find out what I could.”
“And I brought her here. And now she's disappeared,” Chrissy said, her voice cracking.
“Yes,” Pandolfo sighed, “yes, you’re right, and I have no idea how to find her.”
“That's okay, Grandpa. Saks and I have a couple ideas.”
NOT FAR FROM THE APARTMENT, Saks and Chrissy sat in a quaint pub. Red brick walls made up the room, and a circular bar jutted out opposite the front wall. Many of the patrons hefted pints of beer, one after another. For all the years Saks had helped out at his cousin’s bar, he’d never seen people guzzle so much beer at one time.
London apparently had its charms.
Unfortunately, enjoying the sights and flavors wasn’t on his docket. Keeping an eye on Chrissy was at the top of his list, and he had to do so while being uncomfortable. Just as they’d been about to leave Pearson’s apartment, she’d told him he needed to leave his Spawn jacket behind since it would be like wearing a neon sign. Now, he sat in one of Pearson’s wool coats, which was uncomfortably snug in the shoulders.
They sat back to back, her at one table and him at another, as they paid no mind to each other like the strangers they pretended to be. The pint Saks had in front of him he’d been nursing for quite a while, since he didn’t want to actually get drunk. He needed to be at the top of his game in case anything happened.
“No, thank you; I’m waiting for someone,” Chrissy said for the third time since they’d arrived. Saks' hand tightened on the handle of his pint. Of course, Chrissy would attract attention. She was gorgeous, and to make things worse she’d taken off her engagement ring before coming out. He’d heard Englishmen were less friendly than Americans, but you couldn’t tell that by the way the men in this pub hit on her.
“Hello,” a smarmy, almost sultry voice cooed from behind. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Oh, hi, Alexi.” Chrissy’s voice was light and soft, as if she was genuinely glad to see him. “I’m so glad you had time to meet me tonight.”
“Of course. How could I say no when a stunning woman asks me out?”
Try to say no to my fist, Saks thought to himself as he gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from pouncing on the guy before they’d learned a thing.
“Can I get you something?” Alexi asked.
“No, thank you; I’m fine.”
“Be right back.” The moment Saks saw the man walk up to the bar he growled at his backside.
“He’s friendly,” Saks said under his breath.
“Quiet, you,” Chrissy whispered urgently.
“I got you another Coke anyway,” Alexi told her when he returned.
Don’t drink it. He might have put something in it.
“Well, thank you,” Chrissy said. But the smash of shattered glass startled him, and he turned to see what had happened. Chrissy caught his eyes and shook her head. Saks turned back to his drink, relieved Chrissy took care of the problem of a possibly spiked drink.
She’s smart, he thought, feeling relief that she’d make it out of this okay.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy.
”
“Not a problem. Staff will clean it up in a minute. We can go to another table.”
“Oh no, really, I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, the table’s fine. So, tell me, we didn’t get to talk much at the party. What do you do here in London?”
A chair scraped the floor, and Saks imagined that Kovel sat across from his woman and was staring into the depths of her beautiful eyes.
Get a hold of yourself.
“I work in import-export.”
Chrissy laughed. “That’s what my boss does, too.”
“Yes. We do business with him.”
“We?” Chrissy asked coquettishly.
“You may have heard of my boss. Sergei Kosikov.”
“Yes,” Chrissy replied. “I’ve placed calls to him for Mr. Pearson.”
“I know.” There was something menacing in the man’s voice, but Saks was left to the images washed in his mind rather than an actual view of what was happening.
Chrissy gasped, the sound of her shock sending Saks’ nerves into overdrive. “Take your hand off my wrist,” she hissed sharply.
“You will get up and walk out of here with me,” Kovel instructed. “Let us not play games. I don’t know why you’ve returned to London, but this presents an excellent opportunity for us—one that we thought we lost.”
“What opportunity is that?”
“A way to deal damage to some business rivals.”
“I won’t go anywhere with you.”
“Under the table I'm pointing a gun at you. I’ll shoot everyone I can just to get you to leave with me. Get the picture, Miss Serafini? Innocents will suffer, and some will die because of you. Their blood will be on your hands.”
“Let me go or I’ll scream.”
“Come now. You want to see your precious Jessica Saunders, do you not? We still have her, until later tonight. Then she goes off to her new life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Pretty blondes, well, they have value.”
“You’re despicable.”
Kovel sighed. “Get up. Let’s go.”
Saks forced himself to breathe slowly. He couldn’t force his hand, so he waited until they made the door before he stood and wove his way through the pub crowd to follow them. More than anything he wanted to grab the guy and beat the shit out of him for laying a single hand on Chrissy. He couldn’t, though, not in a crowded place like this, and not when she was in potentially life-threatening danger.
Saks sincerely hoped the talk of a gun was just a ruse. Still, he could be certain of nothing given the guy’s loose-fitting coat that easily could be concealing multiple weapons.
A sleek black car slid to the curb in from of Kovel, and Saks saw his chance. With a leap he ran into Kovel, snaked his fingers into the guy’s hair, and smashed him against the side of the car.
“Help!” Kovel screamed like a terrified child.
The driver’s window rolled down. “What’s going on?” His brow wrinkled at Kovel, but he didn’t seem entirely concerned.
“Oh, Alexi here drank too much and stumbled,” Saks quickly said. People on the sidewalk stopped and stared. He could imagine someone was calling the police.
“Figures,” the driver grumbled. He rolled up the window.
“I’ll help ya,” Saks offered. He roughly pulled Kovel back by the collar of his coat.
“Chrissy, open the door.”
“And you,” he hissed into Kovel’s ear. “Right about now the police are coming. You can either get in that car and instruct the driver to take us to where Jessica is, or I can leave you in a heap for the police to pick up.”
“Bugger off,” Kovel snapped.
“Chrissy, what did he say to me?”
“He told you to fuck yourself.”
“That’s what I thought.” Using the man’s collar as leverage, Saks bounced the man’s forehead square off the side of the car again.
Kovel wailed as if he’d been shot, and a small trail of blood seeped down the front of his face.
“Now,” Saks demanded, “are you going to be more cooperative? Or do I need to bash your face in until you’re no longer recognizable? Because I’ll do whatever it takes.”
With the man swaying on his feet from the hit, Saks hurriedly patted him down and relieved him of the gun he had been holding. Sak’s tongue clicked. “You know these things are illegal here, right? I’ll just take it. After all, you wouldn’t want the police to find it on you, would you?”
The driver rolled down the window again. “What was that noise? Is everything all right?”
“He fell into the car again. Here, Alexi, let’s get you into the car.”
A bit of a concern flashed on the driver’s face. “You okay, Mr. Kovel?”
Saks pressed the gun into Kovel’s side.
“Yes.”
“Very well.” The driver again vanished behind a closed window.
The moment it was fully shut Saks threw the bastard into the back of the car, hopeful he’d rattled his head enough to keep him quiet. He jumped in after him, jamming the gun into the man’s side as Chrissy slipped into the car.
“Like this will do you any good,” Kovel growled. “When we get there, the boss will take care of you.”
“My problem, not yours, Kovel.”
Kovel tapped the window dividing the front and back of the car.
“Good glass,” Saks remarked. “Bulletproof.”
“Yes, as if you need to know.”
The driver pulled off as the sound of police sirens grew in volume. But the driver didn’t rush. He eased into city traffic without drawing suspicion, as if he’d dealt with such things before. They drove about a half hour when the muffled sound of boat horns seeped through the windows of the car.
“What a fucking cliché,” Sak said derisively.
“The waterfront?” said Chrissy.
Saks nodded.
“You don’t like the ambiance,” Kovel sneered, “go back to America.”
“We will when we take care of business.”
Kovel barked out a laugh. “Like you’re going to get out of this.”
They entered a warehouse district, where the buildings rose up around them. The car stopped, and Chrissy squeezed his thigh.
“It’s okay, babe,” Saks reassured her.
“Yeah, sure it is,” Kovel retorted as Chrissy climbed out of the car. “What’s she doing?”
“Telling the driver help your drunken ass out. Wait right here.”
The driver looked puzzled as Saks climbed out of the car and motioned back toward Kovel with a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s just too drunk, man. He’s too much for me to handle. Maybe you can do something to get him out.”
The driver leaned forward into the back seat to assess the situation, just as Saks slammed the heel of his boot into his rear. The poor driver tumbled forward, and collapsed in a heap on top of the indignant Kovel. Saks picked up the struggling man’s feet and pushed him further inside before slamming the door shut.
“Chrissy?” She had, in the commotion, jumped up to the driver’s seat.
“Childproof locks engaged, sweetie,” she said as she jumped back out, “but they’re making a racket on the glass.”
“Let them. They’re the idiots riding around in a vehicle with bulletproof glass. You stay here.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not leaving me out here with those creeps.”
“They can't do anything to you. You’ll be safe.”
“Sure, but they can still annoy me. But it doesn’t matter—I’m still not staying here while you go in there.”
Saks shook his head. No way was he going to lead Chrissy into danger. But before he could open his mouth to argue, a door at the side of the closed bay creaked opened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Chrissy hadn’t heard a thing. All she knew was one moment she’d been talking with Saks at the car’s edge, and the next he’d yanked her down, using the vehicle as a shield.
The alleyway was eerily quiet, save for the wash of nearby gentle waves crashing on the shore and the occasional gull soaring overhead. Her head tilted, straining to hear whatever could be coming, when a voice jolted her so roughly Saks squeezed her arm in reassurance.
“Kovel!” A string of angry Russian spilled from the person’s lips, slamming Chrissy’s heart against her ribcage. As cautiously as she could, she poked her head around the back end of the car and spotted a portly man emerging from the shadows into the light of the alley’s single floodlight.
Each figure trailing behind was clearly visible only for a moment, when they stepped beneath the bright spotlight. First was a disheveled, ghostly Jessica that had Chrissy slamming her hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. The woman’s hands were tied behind her back, and she hobbled along with a limp that had never been there before. Even more shocking than the sight of her was the sight of a restrained Pearson, blood running down his face and defeat all over him. Never had she seen him so withdrawn as in that moment, but the last man made it all clear. Whoever he was, he held a gun at Pearson’s head.
The banging on the windows gained the immediate attention of the older man in front, who Chrissy guessed was Kosikov.
“What the hell,” the man muttered. In a hurry, he rushed to the door and yanked on the locked handles. “Open the doors, you idiots!”
From behind the protection of the car, Saks rose. “I dare you to move,” he growled as he lifted the gun and pointed it directly at the man’s head.
With the car between him and Saks, there was little the man could do except curse.
“Come here, Jess,” Saks called out. “And you,” his chin jutted out toward the man behind Pearson. “You move and I’ll shoot your boss, then you. Now drop your gun.”
“Do it,” Saks’ prisoner gritted out.
The young man hesitated, the gun shaking in his hand, before finally he bent down and dropped it to the pavement. In that very moment, Pearson ran. His bare feet slapped the pavement in his hurried escape; Kosikov’s angry voice sent spittle across the car’s roof. “Get him! Fucking kill him!”