Chase After Me (Wilde Ways Book 9)

by Cynthia Eden

  She shuddered against him. “Even when I knew, I still missed him.”

  And another piece of the puzzle that was Vivian slid into place. “That’s why you asked me to be a good guy.”

  Her head lifted. She stared up at him.

  “After the first time you kissed me, you said you needed me to be a good guy. It’s because he wasn’t. You loved him and you found out—”

  “That I loved a monster? That I used to laugh at his jokes and try to imitate his accent because I wanted to be just like him?” A nod. “He didn’t send me into dark tunnels. Didn’t leave me there for so long that I was sobbing and terrified. That I crawled blindly in the dark and banged my head on a sharp screw that jutted out at me.” She eased back. Her fingers rose to trace over her left eyebrow—

  Shit. The scar.

  “I thought Sergei was good because he was good to me. But all along, he was hiding who he really was.”

  Chase cursed and let her go. “And I did the same thing. That’s why you were so hurt when you learned the truth.” He took a step back. Hated what he’d done to her. Hated the pain he’d brought. “I am fucking sorry. I hate the way we met. I hate that I lied to you. I hate that—”

  “You are one of the good guys, Chase.”

  His chest ached.

  “That’s something you taught me. Good guys—they lie, too, though, don’t they?”

  “Baby…”

  “They lie when they have to do it. They don’t like the lies, but they’re trying to protect people.”

  I would do anything to protect you.

  “Like you just lied to your boss. You did it because you want to save your friend. You’re willing to trade your life to save Merik.”

  It’s not just Merik I want to save.

  “And you’re lying to save me,” she added softly.

  I would lie, steal, or kill to save you. There is nothing I would not do for you. But Chase knew to tread carefully. “Maybe I’m just doing my job. The job was to find the intel. Stop the perps. That’s what I’m doing.”

  She shook her head. “It’s personal.”

  Damn straight it was.

  “I’ve never told another soul about my stepfather. Only you.”

  He got what a big deal this was for her. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “It’s not just about trust. I want you to know me. The real me.”

  “I do.” He’d seen her from the beginning. Not the Evil Queen that Merik had dubbed her. Vivian was good. Smart. Kind. Strong.

  She was everything he’d ever wanted.

  But what he feared he couldn’t have.

  “I looked guilty because of my stepfather, didn’t I?” Her hands twisted in front of her body.

  “On paper, yes, that was another nail in the coffin.”

  Vivian flinched.

  “Shit. Wrong word choice. I meant—”

  “I know.” She held his gaze. “I know. He could be a broker for the intel. He could be my contact. He could have planted me there all along and I…” Her breath expelled. “Why did Dex give me the job? With my stepfather being who he is, I was sure the CIA would investigate and reject me.”

  The fact that she hadn’t been rejected said a whole hell of a lot.

  “I wanted to work in intelligence because I wanted to stop the bad guys once I found out what my stepfather had done. He’s the reason I started on this path. But he’s also the reason I didn’t think I could ever have a real chance.”

  Only someone had given her that chance. Someone who liked to pull a whole lot of strings. “Dex made sure you got the job.”

  “But why?”

  “Because I think he had plans for you.” Still had plans.

  “You don’t trust him.” Her head tilted. “Even though he’s the one who came to Wilde? You think he’s hiding things?”

  “Oh, I think he’s hiding about a million things from us.” Before he could say more, there was a knock at the door.

  Vivian’s shoulders stiffened.

  “Probably room service,” Chase reassured her as he kept his voice easy and mild. “Go to the bedroom.” Just in case. “I’ll handle this.” He had a gun tucked into the back of his jeans, and he moved his hand toward the gun even as he approached the door. He heard the soft pad of Vivian’s steps as she hurried to the bedroom. When he was sure Vivian was clear, Chase glanced through the peep-hole and saw the man dressed in the hotel’s uniform. Saw the cart of food with the heavy silver covers over the dishes. Right on time. Chase opened the door.

  The waiter smiled at him. “Good morning, sir. May I come in and set up breakfast for you?”

  “Nah, that’s not gonna happen.” He shoved some cash at the guy. “I got it, but thanks.”

  The waiter’s brows rose.

  “You can go. Really. I got this.”

  With a nod, the waiter hurried away. Chase watched him until the elevator doors closed, and then he pulled in the cart. The wheels rattled and the silver coverings shook just a little. Chase locked the door—both locks—before he pushed the cart across the room. Then he went back and jammed a chair beneath the doorknob. Overkill? Maybe. The hotel had great security, but he believed in sometimes doing things the old-fashioned way, too.

  “Can I come out?” Vivian called.

  Chase lifted up the long, white skirt that covered the bottom of the cart. Hell, he didn’t know if skirt was the name for that part of the fabric. Whatever the hell it was, Chase pulled it up in order to make sure there weren’t any stowaways on the thing.

  There weren’t.

  “Yeah, it’s clear,” he responded.

  The bedroom door opened. She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a loose, green top, and black flats. Her gaze darted from him to the cart, and, as if on cue, her stomach grumbled.

  Hell, Chase wasn’t sure if that was her stomach or his. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten. He lifted up the silver coverings and offered a plate to her. “Ladies first.”

  A smile flashed on her face as she hurried toward him. When she took the plate from him, their fingers brushed.

  A surge of warmth shot up his hand.

  “So that still happens,” Vivian noted in her soft, husky voice.

  “Yeah, V, it does.” He was pretty sure it always would.

  “V?” She laughed even as she scooped some eggs onto her plate. “You called me Viv, before…um, when we were…”

  He snagged a piece of bacon. “I remember what we were doing.” He planned to be doing that same activity a whole lot in the future.

  “Now I’m V?” She reached for a croissant. “How’d that happen?”

  Because he was comfortable with her. “I like you. I tend to give nicknames to people I like.”

  The croissant froze in mid-air as her hand stilled. “I like you, too.”

  That soft confession made him feel as if he’d won the lottery. Like was a good step. It was step one. He’d get to step two as soon as the case was over and she was safe.

  Step two? That step was all about getting her to move from liking him to loving him.

  Vivian moaned and that sensual sound snapped his attention to her face—and the croissant she was now eating.

  “This is incredible! Chocolate chip croissants with some kind of amazing vanilla cream already on top.” She took another bite. “Insane.” She rushed closer to him. “You should try a bite, especially since you like vanilla so much.” Her fingers rose toward his mouth.

  Vanilla and chocolate chip? Vanilla was obviously his favorite, followed closely by chocolate chip. Except, well, her brownies had slid into second place in terms of his dessert faves. Still, when a man was offered a bite of food by a woman as sexy as Vivian, he didn’t refuse.

  His lips parted. Her fingers slid over the edge of his mouth as she gave him the bite. When his lips closed, he gave a quick lick to her finger before she pulled back. Chase heard the fast inhale that she made in response to his sensual lick.

  “Delici
ous,” he said after he swallowed.

  She took another bite of the croissant. “It is fabulous.”

  “I was talking about you.”

  Pink bloomed in her cheeks.

  And the words just spilled out of Chase. “God, I fucking love you.”

  Her mouth parted.

  Oh, shit. “What I mean is…I love how real you are. With you, you don’t fake reactions. I can tell exactly how you feel.”

  She hurriedly took another bite of the croissant. She ate in silence a few moments and then asked, “How do you feel? Because you can be pretty hard for me to read.”

  He’d finished another piece of bacon. At her question, Chase glanced up.

  Something was nagging at him. Something that just didn’t feel right.

  “About me, I mean,” Vivian added. She reached for another chocolate chip croissant. “Am I just a case to you?”

  He stared at the croissants. “I didn’t order chocolate chip croissants.” He’d ordered plain croissants because they had been part of the platter option. He hadn’t been sure what Vivian would like, so going with normal, buttered croissants had seemed the safest bet.

  “They probably just did a substitution or something in the kitchen.”

  “But they put vanilla cream on them.” He realized that every single croissant had been carefully covered with cream.

  “S-sometimes high-end hotels will do things like…that.”

  He reached for the menu. Read over the list of items that had been on the breakfast platter once more. No mention of chocolate chip croissants or the fancy vanilla cream.

  “Do I matter m-more than just…being a…a c-case?”

  “You matter more than fucking anything.” He grabbed for the hotel’s phone. Then stopped. His head turned toward Vivian. “Your voice is slurring.” Stuttering and slurring in a way that she didn’t normally do.

  Vivian frowned at him. “I don’t…th-think I feel so…good.” She lowered the second croissant. A croissant that she’d almost completely eaten. She put it on the cart and then staggered, as if her legs were weakening beneath her. “That’s…weird.”

  He lunged for her even as he felt a surge of lethargy sweep through him, too. Fuck. Fuck.

  Vivian’s eyes were fluttering closed. Her body was sagging. She was falling—

  He grabbed her right before she hit the floor. He scooped her into his arms. His heart should have been racing. Instead, it seemed to thud ever so slowly in his chest. “V?”

  She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was out cold.

  He carried her into the bedroom. Put her on the bed and checked frantically for her pulse. When he felt it, his head sagged. Still there. Just weak.

  She’d been drugged.

  He lifted his hand. Saw the tremble of his fingers. They’d both been drugged.

  The vanilla cream on the fucking chocolate chip croissants. He hadn’t ordered them. They’d been sent up to their room deliberately.

  Their location had been compromised. The enemy was already in the hotel. No doubt, the perps would be storming in the room any moment. But…

  Maybe they don’t know that Vivian is here.

  No one had seen her this morning. When he’d called in the room service order, he’d ordered the platter instead of requesting specific items that might have given away the number of people in his room. That was a habit, an old trick for when you were trying to keep a client under wraps.

  Chase knew the perps would be coming up there any moment. They were just waiting for the drugs to kick in.

  But the bastards don’t have to take her.

  His gaze flew around the room. He had to find a safe place for her, fast.

  He heard a thud in the outer room. Sonofabitch. The enemy was already there. He turned away from the bed. Nearly fell down, face-first.

  The drugs were pumping through him. Soon, he was going to be too weak to protect Vivian.

  Unless…

  “God, baby, I am sorry.” He hauled her into his arms. His knee shoved into the nightstand and sent the lamp hurtling to the floor. His movements were uncoordinated, too rough, and he’d only had one bite of the croissant and vanilla.

  She had so much more. Fuck.

  He could hear the pounding in the outer room. They were breaking in. Probably had a key to the bottom lock, but he’d flipped the deadbolt, too, then, as a precaution, he’d hauled the chair in front of the door.

  Some habits die hard.

  He made it to the closet. “I am so f-fucking…sorry.” His voice was slurring more. He managed to drag open the closet door. He lowered her inside as carefully as he could.

  When she woke up…when she found out that she was in that closet, that he’d put her in there…

  Chase pressed a kiss to her temple. “So s-sorry,” he said again. He hauled out the burner phone. His fingers were fumbling so badly he almost couldn’t send the emergency text. But he managed to get the numbers in—or at least, he thought he did. Then Chase put the phone in Vivian’s lap. She could use it for a light when she woke up. She can use it to call for help.

  He shut the door. The door was on the right side of the room, and it blended almost seamlessly with the wall.

  Almost seamlessly.

  The dresser was close to the door. Just a few feet away. He put his hip against that dresser and shoved even as he heard wood splintering in the outer room. With his last bit of strength, he heaved that dresser forward a few feet until it blocked the closet door. Until it trapped Vivian inside.

  Until it hid her.

  An angry voice shouted, “Find them! Hurry!”

  He whirled around. Staggered away from the dresser. He couldn’t be close to it. Couldn’t give away Vivian’s location. He saw the bag from the gift shop on the floor, saw what looked like a woman’s shirt—

  He shoved the bag under the bed and then crashed into the floor as his strength seemed to give out.

  “In here!”

  Chase lifted his head. Two men in black ski masks filled the doorway. Chase grabbed for the gun that had been tucked into the back of his jeans—

  And one of the assholes kicked him in the face. The fucking face. Chase’s head whipped around even as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

  The gun was wrenched away from him. Not like Chase could put up much of a fight. He could barely move his arms.

  “Where is she?”

  Oh, one of the guys in the ski masks was crouching in front of him. Chase squinted at him. Blue eyes. The waiter’s eyes had been that same bright shade of blue.

  “Where is Vivian Wayne?”

  Chase laughed. Or tried to laugh. A sputter came out. He also thought he might have spat out some blood. “G-gone…”

  “Don’t fucking bullshit us! We know she was with you! Where is she?”

  “Eric…t-took her.” He was about to pass out. Fuck it. He had to sell this shit. “Y-you’re…t-too la…” Had he managed to say late? His tongue felt all thick, and he wasn’t sure. He—

  “Search this suite! Fast! Then we need to get to the roof and get the hell out of here! I’d bet my life this bastard called for backup before we broke through the door.”

  Yeah, I did. Suck it.

  Technically, he’d texted for backup. But that backup wouldn’t arrive in time.

  “Make sure Vivian isn’t here!”

  Don’t find her. Don’t find her. Don’t—

  The world went black.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her world was dark. Her eyes were open, but Vivian couldn’t see anything.

  She felt like hell. Every part of her body ached. Her mouth and lips were so dry, and when she tried to swallow, a bitter aftertaste filled her mouth. “Chase?” Her voice emerged as a weak rasp.

  He didn’t answer.

  Her hands flew out, and her fingers slammed into something. Something on the left. A wall? She patted frantically, moving her hands around and—

  I’m surrounded.

  Her he
art rate kicked up. “Chase?” Still a weak rasp. What in the hell was happening? Where was she? It was so dark, and the darkness seemed to squeeze in around her. It was pulling her in, tighter and tighter, and a scream built up in her throat because she was trapped. She’d woken to her nightmare.

  Chase had been with her. They’d been eating. She’d asked him how he felt about her and then—

  Then I woke up to the dark. She stood up on shaky legs. Her arm hit something near her head. It swung and clattered into her. What in the hell? Her hand swatted, and she touched…plastic? Yes, the object felt like a soft plastic bag.

  Her hands kept swatting. Kept touching. Walls were around her. She was closed in. Only a little space to the front and to the back. She couldn’t find a handle or a door and—

  Her foot slipped over something. Even as she glanced down, a ringing filled the air, and she saw a flash of light.

  A phone. A phone was near her foot. She scrambled for it, and the light from the screen bounced around as she lifted the phone.

  “I hear ringing!”

  Vivian stiffened at the female shout.

  “The phone has to be here!”

  “Where?” A rough snarl. Male this time. A…familiar voice? “Where the hell is the ringing coming from?”

  “I think it’s behind the dresser,” the woman replied. “Wait! Let me help you move it—”

  Vivian gripped the phone tightly. “Eric?” That male voice had sounded like his. She swallowed. “Eric!” Her cry was louder. She shined the light from the phone and finally saw—

  A door? Except there wasn’t a handle on her side.

  But in the next instant, that door was ripped open. “Vivian!” Eric stood there, relief covering his face and he hauled her forward, jerking her into his arms. “Thank Christ!”

  She didn’t understand what was happening. Vivian peeked over his shoulder and saw a woman with dark hair frowning at her. The woman was leaning over a dresser that appeared to have been hauled into the middle of the room.

  Tilting her head, the woman asked, “You okay?” She gave a little wince. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know you were in there the first time we did the sweep. Didn’t even realize the closet was behind the dresser.”

  I was in the closet. Vivian pushed away from Eric. Nausea swirled in her stomach and rose to her throat. She put a desperate hand to her mouth even as her temples throbbed.