“Let go of her,” Charlie barked.
Jacob had lifted his fists.
I pressed my hand to my stomach. What the fuck was the meaning of this? Who was this guy?
“Who are you?” Jacob called out, echoing my thoughts. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, I think you know why this is happening, King.”
I held back a gasp. This had something to do with Jacob.
“Let go of her, right now,” Charlie commanded.
“You’ll do what you’re told,” the weasel continued, “or she’ll die. Remember that.” And then he walked backward, taking Addison with him. She let out trembling squeaks with each step, a mouse caught in an ever-tightening trap.
“Don’t,” Charlie growled and took a step forward.
Several men, ones who I didn’t recognize, rose around the room drawing weapons from their pockets. My confusion deepened. Who—? How—?
The kidnapper moved so fast, I couldn’t quite register what happened next. There was the pop of a firearm, and Charlie fell.
“You see?” the man cried. “You see?” He pressed the gun to Addy’s temple. “Any of you fuckers move again, it will be her next. It will be her.”
The other men, ones in suits, holding guns, followed him with their aim but didn’t fire. And then Addison was taken out the back of the church and disappeared from sight.
“Charlie!” I ran to my brother. I dropped to my knees beside him, horrified by the blood seeping through his jacket. “Charlie, no. Somebody call an ambulance!”
Twenty
Jacob
“You’re going to explain to me just what the fuck has been going on.” I sat on the edge of my seat in my hotel room, Agent Smith across from me.
He was a swarthy guy, tall, strong, but with a face that gave nothing away. If he didn’t change the expression soon, I’d grab him by the lapels and run his fucking head through a wall. Jail be damned.
My best friend was in the hospital with a bullet through his left shoulder. Addison was fucking gone, and Pritchard had taken her.
Not Pritchard himself, but one of his goons.
“Please, Mr. King, remain calm.”
“I have been remaining calm,” I thundered. “I have been remaining calm for the past two weeks while you assholes sat on your hands and watched this shit happen. What the fuck is going on? Why didn’t you shoot that asshole when he came through the back door? Why didn’t you—?”
“We didn’t expect them to show at the wedding. We were hoping that Pritchard’s daughter’s dealings with you would lead us to him.”
“And?”
“It did not. It appears that Carolina isn’t here with her father, after all. She’s not working with him. She’s been staying in the hotel for a week now, and—”
“I don’t care about her. I care about Addy and Charlie. Tell me what you’re going to do to salvage this situation before I lose my mind and break someone’s face in half.” I gritted my teeth to keep from saying anything else.
“We have some information, but it’s not necessary for us to share —”
“You’d better not say what I think you’re going to say. I’m supposed to be a part of your operation, but you’ve kept me in the dark. Now would be a good time to tell me what you’re planning and what you need from me, because if you think I’m going to sit by and let this happen, you’re damn fucking wrong. I will find Pritchard with or without your help.”
Smith rolled the tip of his tongue over dry lips. He looked over his shoulder at another agent, standing further back near the door, and nodded, then put out a hand.
“We’ll keep this brief,” Smith said, as the guy came forward with a folder and handed it to him. “There’s not too much you need to know, and not much that we do know that could lead us to Pritchard now. Our best hope is that he will contact you with more information.”
“Contact me?”
“It’s clear that he wants to get to you. He kidnapped the bride to do it. And in cases like these, a hostage taker will always contact the target. You being the target. He will have demands, and you will relay them to us so that we can plan a way forward.” Smith opened the folder and extracted an image from it. He flipped it around and placed it on the coffee table between us. “This is the man who took Addison.”
Heat rushed through my veins. “That’s him,” I growled.
“His name is Brett ‘Psycho’ Simpson. He’s been working closely with Pritchard for years, much like a right-hand man, except one who stays in the background and operates in secrecy. He’s wanted for murder, for extortion, racketeering, drug trafficking, prostitution, the works. Our only problem has been nailing him down. He’s incredibly slippery—he operates in the shadows.”
This was the man who had Addison.
“Our information tells us that he arrived in Paris this morning. We had no prior information as to his whereabouts, and we don’t know if he’s going to fly out with Addison or not. Or plans to. Needless to say, he’s on the watch list for all airports in the country. If he tries to board a plane, we’ll know about it, and we’ll bring him down before he can.”
“But you don’t think he’s going to do that, do you?”
Smith tucked the photo away. “No, we don’t,” Smith replied. “We’ve been working closely with Interpol and the French police ever since it came to our attention that Pritchard was in France tracking you. We know that he’s moved around a lot, but we lost track of him about two days ago. Our best bet is that he’s gone out somewhere into the countryside.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Smith replied.
“What about Carolina?” I asked. “Why didn’t you take her into custody the minute she appeared? Fuck, why don’t you take her into custody now?”
“Because she’s done nothing wrong, and we have no evidence to prove she’s worked with her father or even contacted him since she entered Paris.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “You can’t seriously believe she’s not involved.” Carolina had caused nothing but shit since I’d met her.
“We can’t do anything without proof,” Smith said and closed his folder. “We expect that Pritchard or one of his associates will be in touch with you soon. All you have to do is wait.”
“Wait. I have to wait for my best friend’s fiancée’s kidnapper to contact me?” I was fast reaching my limit. “There’s got to be something I can do about this.”
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing for now.”
My bedroom door banged open before I could launch into a line of follow-up questioning. Chloe stood in it, wearing the dusty rose dress, her makeup perfect but her nostrils flared.
“What the fuck is going on?” she barked. “Where’s Addison, who are these guys, why is my brother in the hospital right now, and how are you involved, Jacob? Don’t lie to me. I know that you’ve got something to do with this.”
Agent Smith rose, slipping his hand away from the holster at his waist. He nodded to her. “Ma’am.”
“Who are you?” Chloe asked.
“I’m Agent Smith of the FBI. We’ve been working closely with Jacob to track down the man who has kidnapped your brother’s fiancée.”
“My brother… How? What the hell?”
“I think it would be best if Mr. King took it from here.” Smith nodded to me, then walked past Chloe and out of the door. His partner followed shortly after, nodding to Chloe as he left.
Could that motherfucker be any more useless?
The door shut behind them, and Chloe folded her arms across her chest. She was red in the face. “What the hell is going on, Jacob? Why is this happening? What did you do?”
“It’s complicated,” I said. “And it involves law enforcement. Trust me, I didn’t want any of this to happen, either.”
“Oh, well, that’s great. Very comforting. Good to know. My brother is in the hospital!”
“You should be with him.”
“You should kiss my a
ss.”
“This doesn’t involve you, Chloe. You need to stay out of this. I don’t need you involved and part of the collateral damage.”
“I know you didn’t just call Charlie collateral damage.”
“Not what I meant, Chloe. I just don’t want you involved.”
“I am, by default.” She pointed at me. “Either you tell me what’s going on or I go out there and find out by myself. I don’t care what it takes. I’m not going to let this happen.” Her eyes had filled with tears. “Charlie deserves to be happy, more than anyone. This isn’t fair.”
“I know,” I said and drew her into a hug. “I know.”
She burst into tears, then pounded her fists against my chest and pushed herself away. “No. Don’t give me that shit. Tell me why this happened. I deserve to know.”
“Fine,” I said. “Come sit down.”
She walked to the sofa and dropped onto it, ran her fingers through her hair and let it free from the updo she’d worn for the wedding, pulling out bobby pins and dropping them.
I sat across from her. “It’s my fault.”
“I figured as much.”
“I got involved with the wrong people.”
“How?”
“I met Carolina half a year ago at a party for one of my business contacts. She was well-dressed, well-spoken and acted…fuck, completely the opposite of how she acts now.”
“Carolina? Your ex did this?”
“No, but she’s a part of the story,” I said.
I hated discussing this with anyone, let alone with Chloe.
Her expression was closed off, like she hated me after what had gone down, and I didn’t blame her.
“Carolina is Pritchard Young’s daughter. After we’d been dating for about a month, Carolina asked me if I’d like to meet her father. I was reluctant, but I figured it couldn’t do any harm. Unfortunately, the honeymoon phase of the relationship hadn’t ended yet.” I exhaled. “Pritchard liked me. He asked me to perform a job for him, and he made it clear that he would do anything to keep his daughter happy.”
“OK? What does that mean?”
“That he wanted me to give him drones. At first, I was onboard for it, until I received contact from Smith and the FBI. Pritchard wanted to use the drones for drug deliveries. Trafficking, basically, smuggling routes.”
Chloe’s eyes widened.
“He’s a gangster, and I had no fucking idea until it was too late. The minute I found out about this, I broke it off with Carolina. Our breakup had been a long time coming. She wasn’t the woman for me. The longer we stayed together, the more possessive she became. And she would ask me for favors from her father.”
“Wow,” Chloe said. “And this is… You came to Paris knowing this?”
“Smith told me that it was highly unlikely Pritchard would follow.”
“But he did.”
“Yeah, he did,” I said. “There’s more to it than that, though.” I took a breath. “Pritchard has been trying to force my hand. The FBI believes Carolina isn’t involved, but I know that’s not true. He wants me to marry her, because he believes that my money and contacts will make him the next Pablo Escobar, except American.”
Chloe paled. “That’s why she’s here? Why didn’t they arrest her?”
“There’s no proof that they’re working together, and without that evidence, there’s nothing they can do.”
“So, you’re just going to let this happen? You’re going to let them get away with it?” Chloe leaped out of her seat. “Fuck that. I won’t let them—”
“Chloe, stop,” I said. “I’m not going to let them do anything. I know that Pritchard’s been watching me. I know that he’s been taunting me. He was the one who had the rings stolen. There’s got to be a way to get a message to him.”
“A message.” Chloe nodded. “All right, then we’ll do that.”
“We? There is no we in this. Do you think I’m going to let you put yourself in danger?” I asked. “After what happened to Addy and Charlie? He would kill me if anything happened to you.”
“I’m touched that you care. Great motivation, so pure, but fuck you, Jacob. I’m in. I’m going to help whether you like it or not, because this is my brother we’re talking about. This is Addy, for god’s sake. She’s the sweetest woman alive. Neither of them deserves this.”
“I know.”
“It’s their bad luck that Charlie befriended you.”
I deserved that. She was angry, and she had a right to be. If I’d stayed away from Carolina, if I’d avoided meeting her father...
“Fine,” I said and walked to the phone on the bedside table.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m ordering room service. If we’re going to figure this out, we’re not going to do it on an empty stomach.” My mind was already whirring. There would be a way. There had to be a way. A lead of some sorts.
Chloe sighed, and I carried the weight of it on my shoulders. It was heavier than the other burdens I had to bear.
Twenty-One
Chloe
“There’s nothing about him on the internet,” I said. “The Psycho guy.” I held a fry between two fingers as I tapped on the touchpad of Jacob’s laptop and scrolled through internet results.
“You’re not going to find anything on him like that. You’d have to access the deep web, and I’m not about to show you how to do that,” Jacob replied.
I snorted. “Sure, because of course you know how to access the deep web.”
“My point is, you’re not going to find anything on this guy.”
I inhaled another fry and wiped my fingertips on a napkin, using the other to type one-handed. Pritchard Young. “What else am I supposed to do?” I asked.
It was one in the morning, and we hadn’t come up with any fresh ideas. Glancing over at Jacob brought mixed emotions, and still, after everything, the cursed attraction to him. Broad-shouldered and leaning his elbows on his thighs. He’d barely eaten a thing and held one hand to his forehead, his phone in the other.
“What are you doing?” It wasn’t meant to come out as hostile as it had. Anger was the only way I could deal with this shit.
“Reaching out to contacts,” he said.
I didn’t bother asking which contacts. I didn’t care at this point. I was exhausted, and I was worried sick about Charlie. I’d called the hospital after my initial visit, and they’d told me he was stable, out of danger, and healing up. Fast asleep too.
I’d visit him in the morning, if I got the chance.
My attention switched to the screen. I opened the first webpage that mentioned Pritchard and read through it.
“It says he’s a philanthropist. Supported children’s hospitals in New York City and Los Angeles.”
“Of course,” Jacob said. “He’s an asshole, so of course he’s doing public charity work.”
“Astute observation. Though, I don’t think that’s fair to the people who are doing charity work out of goodness.” I skipped back to the results of my search and scrolled down. I clicked over to the images tab and searched through them. There were a few with Pritchard and his daughter, side by side. In these pictures, Carolina wasn’t wearing anything tacky. No leopard print in sight.
And she wore a smile that seemed genuine.
“What?” Jacob asked.
“Huh?”
“The look on your face is weird.”
“Nothing,” I said and closed the tab. I sighed and pressed my hands to my eyes. “I’m exhausted. But I don’t think I’ll sleep.”
Jacob placed his phone on the bed, next to himself. “Same.”
I bit the corner of my lip. “Why did this happen, Jacob? Why did you even get involved with Carolina?”
“Why did you get involved with Deeznuts?”
“Oh my god,” I said and actually laughed. “What?”
“Fuck it, I don’t know—the EDM guy. What’s his name?”
“Ned. His name was Ned. I’m not the o
ne who got involved with a Mafioso. Or whatever these people are. Young doesn’t exactly strike me as an Italian mafia name.”
“Because Italian mafia is the only type of criminal, right?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You would know better than me.”
“Low blow, Chloe.” And it grunted out of him. He was hurt over what had happened.
I was angry, but I wasn’t that much of an asshole that I couldn’t empathize with him.
“I’m trying to understand it, Jacob. I thought I knew you, to some extent at least.” I paused, shook my head. “Who am I kidding? I didn’t.”
“I dated her because she seemed like a good option at the time. She was a nice person. She acted sane?”
“Sane? That’s a great indicator for a romantic partner.”
“Fuck it,” Jacob said and threw up his hands. “I’m not an expert on that stuff. I tried. I don’t like commitment, but I tried.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Are you really asking me that? Why I would want someone to be with?”
My stomach churned. Why couldn’t it have been me? God. I’m pathetic. “No, I’m not. Forget it, OK? It was a dumb question to start with. You had every right to choose a partner, even if she did turn out to be connected to a criminal.”
Jacob exhaled through his nose.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What?”
“That little nose breath you just did. What was that? Your angry breath?”
“Chloe. Stop pushing. You want a reaction out of me, and you’re not going to get it tonight. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. And so do you.”
“I’m not trying to—maybe I am. I don’t know what I’m trying to do. I’m tired and confused. Maybe I should go,” I said and got up from the sofa. I placed the laptop on the coffee table, dusted my hands off on my dress, and realized how ridiculous I was.
“No,” Jacob replied. “Don’t go.”
“What?”
“Don’t go. I don’t want you to sleep in your room tonight. I want you to sleep here.”
Best Man with Benefits Page 12