Captivity
Page 4
“Anyway…I’m thirty, have no kids, and have never been married. Umm, favorite color is pink, I like to go dancing, love Italian food, don’t drink much alcohol but consume sweet tea like it’s going out of style, and…oh, most importantly, I’m going to rule the world once I uncover the secret of how to grow money in test tubes,” she declared matter-of-factly then started laughing. Yeah, that last part was a joke. She and Cassie had a saying that they were livin-la-vida-broka.
Glancing over at Mr. Chit-Chat she thought she noticed a slight curl to his upper lip. He was listening. Problem was, that didn’t translate to him talking. Maybe he questioned her motives. Who knew how long he was imprisoned here in this god-awful cell? She assumed no one had shown him an ounce of kindness. He probably needed to know where her allegiance rested.
“So, here’s the deal. I want to help you. As much as I’d like to unlock those cuffs and set you free, that’s not an option. You have something of value to this research facility, and they aren’t going to let you leave without it. But what I can do is be a mediator of sorts and prevent any further abuse against you. If you help me, I’ll do what I can to help you. But you need to trust me. My boss wasn’t thrilled about me coming in here but he agreed to give it a chance,” she admitted freely.
Jim wasn’t going to let her continue these visits if she made no progress. He was perfectly fine with beating this man into submission. Liv didn’t want to see that happen. She was compelled to help this man if he’d let her.
Glancing at her watch, she panicked when she saw how long she had been with him. Her time was almost up. Jim expected her to report to him after this first meeting. If she went empty-handed, he might call off their deal.
“Come on. Throw me a bone. Anything, please,” she begged, getting on her knees and pleading. It was overly-dramatic, but she was trying to make a point. The man just looked at her, expressionless. He wasn’t going to budge an inch.
Exhaling defeat, she reached back into her bag and pulled out her old iPod Nano and a set of earbuds. If nothing else, she could leave him some music. If she were chained to a wall, music would be her salvation. A means to escape her misery.
“I want you to have these in case I’m not allowed to come back. Make sure to hide them under your mattress from the others,” Liv advised, tossing the set in his direction.
He caught them without diverting his eyes from hers. Staring back, she felt the flush return to her cheeks, but she didn’t look away this time.
If she never saw him again, she wanted him to know she genuinely cared. She hoped he saw it in her depths where his gaze penetrated her soul.
Forcing herself to break the hold he had on her, she turned to leave the room.
“Lawson.”
The deep baritone sent a shiver down her spine, and she turned to face him. Steel gray eyes stole her breath and weakened her knees. He told her his name. One word but that was enough.
Smiling, she replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lawson.” Another curl from his upper lip told her the feeling was mutual.
Exiting the room and shutting the door, Liv slumped to the hallway floor. God help her, she was panting. Exhilarated, triumphant, giddy. She was over the moon ecstatic. Another win for Team Liv.
Excited to tell Jim about her small miracle, she headed to the break room where she said she’d meet him. There was sure to be several employees eating lunch, which meant she wouldn’t be alone with him. She wasn’t in the mood to flirt or lead him on and she damn sure wasn’t in the mood for his unwanted advances. Hopefully, her information would appease Jim, and he would agree she should continue seeing Lawson.
And right after her meeting with Jim, there was an old friend she needed to see. He was the only person she knew that had influential connections, not to mention deep pockets. If anyone could help Lawson, it was him.
Lawson.
Just thinking his name sent another shiver down her spine.
5
Liv pulled her Jeep up to the guard booth and stopped, pushing her window button as Nick walked out of the small brick building.
“Hey, Miss Kimbro. It’s good to see you again,” he greeted with a broad smile.
Nick was the day guard at Bart’s house and Liv liked him. He was super sweet, reminding Liv of Santa Claus with his white hair and well-trimmed beard.
“Hey yourself, Saint Nick. Happy to see you, too. It’s been a while,” she responded and returned the smile.
His eyes twinkled, and he winked. He was used to her nickname and didn’t seem offended in the least.
“Indeed it has. Bart is eager to see you, so go on up to the house. But make sure you say bye before leaving,” he called out as she pulled away from his station.
“Will do,” she called out from her window before pushing the button again to keep out the hot summer heat. It was one of the hottest summers on record, and the humidity had been through the roof lately. There was nothing worse than leaving your house and feeling like you needed to take another shower before reaching your vehicle.
Hot or not, she loved her city. Beautiful mountains, change of seasons, vibrant art culture and an endless selection of restaurants and nightlife. She enjoyed hiking, biking and boating and all three were at her fingertips in her hometown. Whether she felt like dressing up for a night out or chilling with a beer by the lake, she could hop in her Jeep and be doing either within thirty minutes from her house.
And, lucky for her, Bart had a kickass boat that was always available to take for a cruise. Like Cassie always said, you don’t need a boat, you need a friend with a boat. Liv chuckled as she thought of her crazy friend then climbed down from her Jeep and walked to the front steps of the large mansion.
Yeah, Bart had done very well for himself, she surmised, eyeing the brick home. She’d known him since grade school and they had been high school sweethearts. They went their separate ways for college but remained very close. Bart had been president of the debate club and their graduating class’s valedictorian, so Liv wasn’t surprised when Bart pursued a political career.
What did shock her, and a lot of other people, was Bart’s appointment as governor to their state. He was the youngest man to be sworn into the position, and it was plastered all over the news last year.
Looking around at the grand estate, Liv couldn’t imagine how her life might’ve turned out if they’d stayed together. A Governor’s wife was a far cry from her life of coupons and discount stores. Thankfully, Bart never patronized her or acted superior in any way. That wasn’t his style. He was down to earth and very caring.
Reaching to knock on the intricate leaded glass door, she startled when the door flew open, and Bart swept her in a tight hug. He was several inches taller than her five-eight frame, so her feet left the ground as he pulled her close.
“Damn, TKO, where you been the past month? I’ve missed your ass,” he admitted, squeezing tighter. If he didn’t release his grip, she might end up with a cracked spine.
“Hey, BS,” she squeaked out, pushing against his chest until he loosened his hold.
He slowly put her down, and she didn’t miss the hardness between his legs when she slid past his groin. Liv wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Bart was, by far, the most eligible bachelor of the city and she had heard the rumors that his bed was never cold. Around her, he was just a good friend.
If Bart still carried a torch for her, he never said or acted on it. They were close friends and she could always count on him, but that’s where it ended. Then again, he was a man, and Mr. Happy between his legs probably didn’t need much encouragement.
“Don’t let anyone around here hear you call me that. That would spread like wildfire,” Bart joked, grabbing Liv’s hand and leading her towards the kitchen.
“You don’t have to be Einstein to figure it out. It’s your initials, dumbass,” she teased.
Their nicknames for each other started in high school. TKO was hers because he said she was a total knockout. Bart
’s was BS which happened to be his initials but stood for bullshit because she never knew when he was pulling her leg or being truthful. Again, great makings of a politician.
“Ha ha, very funny, smartass. You hungry? I had Patricia make some lunch. I hope you can stay a while. I freed my schedule for the afternoon,” Bart informed her as they stepped into the large gourmet kitchen.
“Yes, I’m starving. I can stay a bit. I would’ve brought a swimsuit if I’d known you had the day off,” she answered as the two of them sat on stools around a large island. Again, didn’t need a pool, just a friend with a pool.
Patricia walked over and set down two platters, one filled with assorted meats and cheeses, and the other had crackers and a vine of the largest grapes Liv had ever seen. They looked like plums they were so big, and her stomach growled at the sight.
“Hello, Miss Olivia. Sweet tea, I presume?” she asked, grabbing two glasses from a nearby cabinet.
“Yes, please. This looks delicious, Patricia. Thank you,” Liv answered then accepted a tall glass of iced tea from the tall, lean woman.
The cold beverage was precisely what she needed on this scorching summer day, and she took a healthy swig, enjoying the icy blast. Bart grabbed a small square of cheese and a cracker then popped it in his mouth. Liv took that as her cue and did the same.
“I didn’t even think about swimming. I think I’ve used it twice since moving in. You know you can use it anytime, whether I’m available or not. Mi casa es su casa,” he uttered as he stuffed a grape in his mouth.
Patricia placed two plates down on the countertop before sashaying her way out of the kitchen.
Patricia had an elegance about her that demanded respect. She carried the title of chef in Bart’s home but she could easily be the lady of the house with her grace and poise. And her flare for style was impressive. Each time Liv had been to the home Patricia dressed as if she was attending a fancy party. Today’s choice was an emerald green pantsuit with a pale pink blouse, which made her eyes look even greener.
A delicious aroma grabbed Liv’s attention, and she looked over at the two plates. Grilled salmon atop a mixed field greens salad was the main course. It smelled divine. Liv loved coming to visit Bart because everything was top of the line. Spare no expense seemed to be the golden rule at the governor’s mansion. Pushing the platter of cheeses closer to Bart, she reached for her plate of fish and utensils.
“I’ll remember that. Don’t be surprised when you walk outside and see Cassie and me downing cheap beer and blaring country music for all your neighbors to hear,” she teased, taking a bite of her fish.
“Hey, long as you two are sporting sexy swimwear you can do whatever the hell you want. This place needs a little action. I’ve been so damn busy lately, I’ve forgotten what fun is,” he confessed, and Liv could see he meant every word even though their conversation was light and playful. She hadn’t considered the stress and pressure of his job.
“That’s not what I hear, Mr. Playboy,” she teased with a wink.
“What? Me, playboy? I think you’re reading those gossip papers again. I ain’t got time for that,” he parroted with a mocked expression of shock.
Yeah, he was messing with her. Tabloids had nailed it as far as she could see. Bart was drop-dead gorgeous. Blond hair buzzed short with dark brown eyes against bronzed skin. He looked like a native Californian instead of an uppity politician.
“Well, we’ll have to remedy this dull life you lead. Soon as you’re available let’s plan a pool party. You supply the food and drinks, and I’ll supply the hot women. Hope you’ve got some eligible friends in the Capitol,” she professed.
Laughing, he replied, “You’ve got a deal. I’m sure I can round up a few willing victims. Anyway, not to change the subject, but you sounded pretty rattled on the phone when you called. What’s going on?” he asked curiously.
Where to begin with that story? She didn’t know how much she should tell him. After all, he was the governor, and she didn’t want to put him in a compromising situation by telling him about the murder she witnessed. Considering her dilemma, she would need to select her words carefully.
“What do you know about shifters?” she asked.
Bart cocked his head. “Not much really. They tend to stick to their own kind. They’re not involved politically, so I don’t venture into their communities. There’s this taboo surrounding them, and the experts say they are violent and cause most of our crime. Why do you ask?”
“Well, PRL is doing research on their bloodwork. Jim believes their enhanced ability to heal could hold the key to curing cancer,” she revealed, biting her lower lip as she watched his reaction.
“Wow, that would be incredible! What a breakthrough for your company if that proves to be true. So, what’s the problem, Liv? When you start chewing on your lip, you’re worried or nervous. Spill.” He dipped his head to where she would have to make eye contact. His warm brown eyes searched hers and she could see his concern and care.
Letting out a sigh she didn’t realize she’d been holding, she continued, “The problem is that we have a shifter in the lab. He’s being held against his will. Jim claims it’s because the man is a savage beast and he’s protecting his employees, but I’m not so sure. Something in my gut is telling me it goes a lot deeper than that,” she declared, putting her fork on her plate. Suddenly her appetite was gone, and she felt sick to her stomach.
Bart leaned against the back of the barstool and crossed a leg over his knee, considering her words. After a few moments, he spoke, expression serious, “That’s a pretty strong accusation. Do you have any proof that Jim isn’t telling the truth because I’ll tell you this…Jim Jensen is highly regarded in the community. Hell, in the entire state, for that matter.”
“I know, I know. Jim’s also a piece of shit that would cheat on his wife at the drop of a female’s panties, so don’t go spouting how regarded he is. I’m telling you, Bart. I don’t have tangible proof but I have seen this shifter beaten. He’s chained to a wall, for God’s sake. Isn’t there anything you can do?” she implored.
Her heart sped as her blood boiled when she thought about Lawson and the way he was treated. She was so furious it scared her. It was unlawful and inhumane, and after sitting with him, she’d realized she couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
“Whoa, slow down a sec. I can’t start throwing around accusations without solid proof. You have to know there could be serious repercussions for me and my job if I were wrong. Need I remind you that the relationship between them and us isn’t the best? We don’t trust shifters and they don’t trust us. It’s that simple. We coexist and that’s about it,” he explained and Liv felt her one chance to save Lawson slipping through her fingers.
“But what about him being chained and beaten? That can’t be legal,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Bart was supposed to be on her side, not Jim’s, and it was pissing her off.
His hands reached out and uncrossed her arms, taking her hands in his. “I agree, that sounds awful. No one should be treated that way. But hear me out. If there is even a smidge of possibility that Jim is onto something about shifter blood, you have to know he won’t stop until he gets his answers. Is it right to hold someone against their will? No. But what if the key to curing cancer is there? Wouldn’t it be worth it?” he asked, gently rubbing his thumbs across the tops of her hands.
Bart knew her grandmother passed away from cancer. He also knew how passionate she was about finding a cure. Maybe he had a point.
“Yes, I suppose,” Liv muttered then shook her head. “No, not at the cost of their lives. That’s my problem with this whole mess. What’s the real cost for the cure? Jim has assigned me to the case, and I’ll be working closely with Lawson. I will know if they mistreat him again,” she conveyed.
Her words were all about the guilt train that was parked in the station and refused to leave. She now felt responsible for what was happening to Lawson, and she hated it with ev
ery fiber of her being.
“You’re biting that lip again. You sure you’re okay?” Bart questioned, giving her hands a tight squeeze.
“Yep, I’m good. Thanks for listening. I’m glad I came to you,” she admitted.
Bart was her sounding board and protector. He had been her shoulder to cry on in college when she caught her boyfriend of two years cheating on her. Bart had stormed out of her apartment and tracked Joe down, beating the crap out of him for hurting her.
He was her big brother when it came to defending her honor and she was the one that told him like it was, whether he wanted to hear it or not. They were good for each other and she valued his friendship.
“I tell you what. I’ve got a few connections that are tight with the shifter community. Let me see if there’s any buzz about kidnappings or beatings against them from humans. I’ll call you in a few days to let you know if I hear anything, okay?” he asked, patting her knee.
“Oh, that would be terrific,” she replied, relief swamping her. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. “You’re the best friend a girl could have!” she cried out.
He pulled back and looked deep into her eyes, sharing a moment. She thought he might kiss her and panicked, quickly removing her arms from Bart’s neck. She sat back on her barstool.
“That’s me. BGF, best guy friend,” he mocked with a grin, but she saw a flash of something else.
Was he hurt that she pulled away?
They hadn’t been a couple since they were kids and she didn’t feel that way towards him anymore. He was important to her as a friend, and she would never risk losing that for some quick romp in the sack.
“Hey, don’t go changing your nickname, BS. It fits you perfectly,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
A flicker sparked to life behind his brown eyes, and he beamed with a smile, showing perfect teeth.
“BS it is. You’ll forever be my TKO,” he said and lightly kissed her forehead.