Billionaires and Bad Boys: The Complete 7-Book Box Set

by Nikki Chase

  I look behind me. The sun is shining outside. Freedom calls.

  If I can just get away from Raphael and call 911, I’ll be rescued. This small-town cop is obviously too close to the people involved to ever see things objectively.

  I know I can never go back to Seth’s mansion. He’d take away my phone and never let me out again.

  So this is my only chance.

  Without thinking twice, I dash toward the door, push it open, and start running again.

  Please don’t fail me, legs. I promise I’ll treat you better after all this is over.

  Alice

  “Hey!” Raphael shouts behind me, right before the door shuts.

  I run back toward the market. Raphael is going to catch up to me sooner or later, and I’d rather be caught in a crowded place where I’d have many witnesses.

  Raphael has been nice and friendly so far, and I haven’t seen him do anything violent. But just by the size of him, and the fact that he’s so close to Seth, I have to assume that he’s perfectly capable of hurting me, if I annoy him enough. From his perspective, I must be doing everything I can to push him in that direction.

  As I turn left onto the street where the farmers’ market is, I can hear Raphael’s footsteps behind me, quickly gaining ground on me.

  I look around and wish payphones were still around. These days, if you don’t have your own cell phone, you don’t get to make calls, period.

  I clutch onto the phone in my hand tightly. If I lose it, that means I’ll have to waste precious time trying to convince someone to let me use their phone before I can make that critical call.

  If anything is going to save me, it’s my phone. I can’t drop it because I don’t have time to stop running long enough to pick it back up.

  Finally, I reach the market again. I slow down so I can blend in with the crowd. The sun is shining and the produce is fresh, so the place is teeming with locals and tourists alike. I realize I stick out because of my height, so I slouch a little.

  I catch a glimpse of Raphael as he stands at the edge of the market, straining his neck to look for me. He’s easy to spot because he’s such a big guy, but getting away from him is another matter entirely. He’s fast.

  I scan my surroundings, looking for the best place for me to hide so I can make the call.

  I just need a few uninterrupted minutes, probably. I don’t know. I’ve never called 911 before and I don’t know how long the wait time is to get connected to an operator. If it’s anything like calling the bank or the electricity company, I’m screwed.

  I think about hiding behind one of the counters of the many stalls around me, but I’m afraid some farmer might yell at me for doing that, and I don’t have any time to explain my predicament. Besides, like the cop from before, they may also know Raphael and decide to call him over because they saw us together earlier.

  So I squat down where I am, right in the middle of the market where foot traffic is heaviest. Knees and shins and ankles surround me. People glare at me, their annoyed faces looking extra sinister because of the shadows cast by the sun shining high above them.

  I hit the three numbers. Nine. One. One. I tap the green button to call.

  My heart hammers against my rib cage as I listen to the ringback tone. My whole body is shaking, the adrenaline urging me to run again. Damn it, why are they so slow to pick up?

  “Please wait while our system tries to connect you. Do not hang up. You will be connected to the next available operator…”

  Fuck!

  A recorded message?

  Are you kidding me?

  In the movies, a call to 911 always connects immediately. Nobody told me I’d have to be put on hold when I call the emergency line. Hollywood has not prepared me for this.

  I look around me, hoping Raphael still hasn’t spotted me, but I can’t see him from my level. I can only see the people who are walking around me.

  I already know exactly what I want to say once I get connected. Quick and concise. Just the facts.

  One, I got kidnapped. Two, the kidnapper is Seth Wayne. Three, I need help getting away from him and keeping him out of my life.

  I’ve checked the banner at the entrance of this farmers’ market so I can tell the cops where I am exactly. They’ll get here soon and take me somewhere safe.

  I know exactly what I’m going to do once this is all over. I’m going to live with Emily for a bit. She has invited me over so many times, but I’d always been too busy. Well, I’m unemployed and homeless now, so this is the perfect time for an extended visit.

  I’ve seen her place in Seattle, and I know there’s plenty of space. We can go shopping for baby stuff, and I can even accompany her to the pre-natal classes.

  I’ll apply for a restraining order to keep Seth away from me. Considering the amount of money he has, that’s probably the best I can do anyway.

  Seth couldn’t get out of his previous prison sentence because his parents didn’t want to give him a cent to help him. But now he can hire his own team of lawyers to deny all my claims in court. There’s no way for me to win this case.

  “911. Where’s your emergency?” A voice filters through the phone receiver, and my heart jumps in my chest. Finally!

  “Yes! I’m at the farmers’ market at—”

  Before I can finish my sentence, a big hand slaps over my mouth, cutting off my air supply. Another hand wrangles my phone away and ends the call, severing the line that was supposed to take me to safety.

  Fuck! Raphael! I was so focused on the call I forgot to keep track of where he was.

  If he brings me back to Seth, that’s the end of my escape plan. It will be years before I’m allowed out of the house. I probably won’t ever get a chance this good again. He’ll tighten security after this, I’m sure.

  I scream, but no sound comes out, with the hand clamped over my mouth. I bite down on Raphael’s palm. I manage to break the skin, judging by the rusty taste invading my mouth. But the hand remains in place.

  “Bitch!”

  My whole body turns cold at the voice.

  That’s not Raphael’s voice.

  Who is it? Could it be the men Seth has been protecting me from? Have I escaped the frying pan, only to fall into the fire?

  I try to kick and punch, but the man’s arm is now secured around my waist and forearms. No matter how much I struggle, the hold on my body is too strong for my struggling to mean anything. I’m fighting with all my strength, but I’m not doing any real damage.

  Staying close to the ground to avoid attracting attention, the man drags me away from the crowd. As we approach the edge of the parking lot, I widen my eyes, looking for Raphael in panic. Ironically, I need him to find me now, to rescue me from this man.

  I hear the rattle of a metal door being slid over a railing behind me. I can’t see it, but it sounds like bad news. I start kicking, but I can’t get any purchase. All I manage to hit is air.

  I get pulled into a van by the man holding me from behind. Another guy, his body covered with tattoos, climbs into the back of the van and slides the door shut.

  “Romeo’s not going to be able to save you now, bitch,” the man snarls in my ear from behind, making his tattooed friend chuckle.

  “Walter’s going to be so happy,” tattooed guy says.

  “I’m pretty happy, too,” says the man behind me as his hand slithers up from my waist and cups a breast, his grubby fingers squeezing into my flesh. My skin crawls.

  I start screaming, but his other hand is still clasped over my mouth. He takes it off my lips, only for his palm to land on my cheek, hard.

  My skin stings. Before I can recover, the new guy pastes a length of tape over my mouth, making it impossible for me to cry out or say anything.

  Meanwhile, the man behind me jerks my arms behind me. He wraps something rough around my wrists and pulls it tight, restraining me.

  I sit slumped on the rubber floor of the van, all trussed up and stunned. I know I can’t fight th
em. They’ve got me now, and there’s no way for me to get away.

  Who’s Walter? And what are they going to do with me? Are these the people Seth was protecting me from? What do they want from me?

  Maybe I should’ve stayed put in Seth’s house after all. Now I’m completely screwed, and I can’t think of anyone who can help me.

  Nobody even knows where I am.

  Seth

  How could he fucking lose her?

  I was already going to kill Raphael when he called to give me the news, but now, after discovering where Alice is, I’m going to torture him over multiple days until he dies a slow death.

  I grab my phone to call Anthony. I tell him to get ready with two more men and wait for me in the car.

  Raphael took her to the fucking farmers’ market, when I’d specifically told him to take her to the grocery store. Wasn't he thinking at all? Walter's whole operation is a farm. You could even call him a farmer, technically, if farmers had armies of thugs to intimidate the people they’d trafficked.

  I don't like to ask Walter’s victims many questions about what he has done to them because those are not happy stories, but I don't need to hear all the facts to know how much he has fucked them up. I’ve seen the fear in their eyes, the bottomless abyss whenever something reminds them of their time at the asparagus farm.

  I remember going in to pick up a few workers and help them escape.

  Those guys were more nervous than a scurry of squirrels surrounded by murderous owls. They jumped into the car in a rush, then immediately ducked down so they wouldn't be spotted from the outside.

  We told them we’d taken care of security so there was nothing to worry about. Still, they would only sit up after driving across the town and passing the gates into my property.

  Every single batch of people we rescued acted the same way, and eventually I stopped asking them to chill and just let them gradually get used to their new lives.

  Fuck knows what he's doing to Alice now.

  Luckily, I put a tracker on her phone so I know where she is. Otherwise, no one would even know where she is. Fuck, I don't know if she's alive. Maybe she’s not.

  I take a deep, calming breath.

  It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because it's not true. Of course she's alive. She has to be.

  It has barely been one hour since I took Raphael’s call, and our car is already approaching Walter’s farm.

  Walter wouldn’t kill her in a hurry. He’d try to use her against me, threatening to hurt her if I don’t back off. That doesn't give me much comfort or consolation, but at least she lives, in all probability. Once I get her back, she’ll be able to move on and put this whole episode behind her.

  I’ll just have to make this particular rescue mission work. It won't be my first one, but it will be my most dangerous one yet.

  This time, I have one target to rescue, instead of just taking whoever shows up at the set place and time. Also, I have to actually go in there, instead of just parking right outside.

  At least I have Anthony and two other men with me. We’ll be completely outnumbered, but I also can't take more men as that would leave my property insufficiently protected and put everyone else at risk.

  I’ve already asked Raphael to get the police involved, so we’ll have back-up, assuming he manages to convince them to come at all.

  Yeah, I know, it's reckless. But I can't just sit around while Alice may be going through hell due to my stupidity.

  The cops have kept their distance from Walter, either out of ignorance or laziness, but they’ll have to come this time.

  I can show them the tracker on the phone as proof that Alice, who is legally my employee, is on their premises. I can't prove that she’s being held there against her will, but hopefully the fact that she’s unlikely to venture there on her own will be enough to persuade those cops.

  Anthony looks over his shoulder as he leads the way toward the main building on Walter’s land. We stay near the perimeter, which I used to patrol as part of his security. This area is more strictly monitored, but most of the property is taken up by the asparagus farm, which provides practically zero cover.

  In other words, we’re just relying on dumb luck, and my knowledge of their security shift change, which must be outdated by now. I’m counting on Walter’s men being too lazy to change and randomize their schedules.

  Miraculously, all four of us make it safely to the main building. We stop by the back entrance.

  Once we force open the door and rush in, there’s no going back. We’re either going to save Alice and all go home in one piece, or we’ll all die.

  With my hands, I give Anthony the signal to wait. I quickly check my phone. Still no message from Raphael.

  Shit.

  I remind myself that he has to be coming with reinforcements soon. I asked him to tell the cops I was going to Walter’s farm with armed men to rescue Alice. So, whether it’s now or later, they have to come.

  They can stall when it comes to looking for a missing person, but not when a private citizen has basically admitted to breaking, entering, and attacking another’s property.

  I wish I could wait for them to come, but then I hear a woman screaming.

  It’s Alice’s voice.

  It all happens so fast, once I give Anthony the signal to move.

  We shoot the lock using the gun with the silencer and pry the door open, then advance down a dirty, narrow hallway with gray, unpainted concrete floors and gray, unpainted cinderblock walls.

  Jesus, I almost forget how depressing this place is.

  I was worried we’d have trouble finding Alice, but it turns out to be easy enough, although that’s not necessarily a good thing.

  Basically, we just follow the noises. A man is shouting, and Alice is still screaming—from fear, hopefully, and not from pain.

  We’re finally close enough to make out the words they’re saying. I’m almost sure the voices are coming from the open doorway in front and to the right of us.

  “Stay still, bitch! Or I swear I’ll fucking cut you,” says the man sharply.

  Alice whimpers.

  Whoever just threatened her, he’s a dead motherfucker.

  I take a quick look inside through the open doorway, while staying covered behind the wall.

  Four men. Walter, a man whom everyone calls Cyclops because he only has one eye, and two seemingly low-level thugs who look smug. Like cats who have just presented their master with a dead rat.

  Alice is sitting in one corner, crying quietly. Her shoulders are pulled back, presumably because they’ve tied her hands together behind her back.

  I wish I could just rush inside and pull her into my arms. I wish I could tell her everything’s going to be okay, now that I’m here.

  But I need to get rid of these guys first.

  I hold up four fingers to let Anthony know how many targets are inside. Four against four. We can take them out. It’s not impossible. We have the element of surprise, and we’re more heavily armed than they are.

  I give them the approximate locations of the four men inside the room and we divide up the work.

  Then, we go in, guns blazing.

  As I hoped, they’re caught by surprise. Their jaws hang open and their eyes flick around the room in confusion, before they finally realize what’s going on and reach for their guns.

  By then, it’s too late.

  One of the thugs is down, and so is Cyclops. A couple of shots hit my bullet-resistant vest and bounce off in defeat.

  I fix my eyes on Walter and take my shot.

  My first shot misses as he starts running for cover.

  I quickly recover from the recoil and take another shot. It hits him in the chest and throws his shoulders back. He falls backward onto the smooth, hard concrete floor.

  Finally, the volley of gunshots stop. I scan the room to see the aftermath.

  Three men down. Four of my men standing, although Anthony and another man are hurt—shot in t
heir limbs. Not deadly, but debilitatingly painful.

  One thug is missing. He probably went out the door on the other side of the room. Fucking coward. He could be telling everyone about us right now.

  I put my gun back in the holster and approach Alice, who’s curled up in fetal position in the corner, on the cold floor.

  I crouch down, grab my pocket knife, and cut off the rope behind her back.

  She glances at me through a veil of messy blonde hair, absolute dread in her eyes. She looks so afraid, so fragile.

  “It’s okay now,” I say, not daring to touch her for fear she might shatter. Regret fills my chest. This is what I’ve reduced her to. She was a happy, successful woman before me, and now she’s just another victim. I disgust myself.

  Alice says something, but I can’t make out the words because she’s murmuring.

  I lean closer, pricking my ears up.

  “Sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

  I start to reach for her, but something happens before I get the chance to touch her.

  A deafeningly loud gunshot crackles through the air.

  My ears start ringing, and suddenly I feel weak. And cold. My knees fold under me.

  “No!” Alice screams, but it sounds like she’s far away. So far away.

  I hear heavy footsteps enter the room. The cops? It must be the cops.

  Alice’s hand lands on my face, stroking my skin. “I’m so sorry, Seth. I’m so sorry,” she sobs over and over.

  No, it’s okay, I want to tell her.

  It’s not her fault. None of this is her fault.

  I’m the one who got her involved, and now I’m getting the punishment I deserve for bringing her here and getting her almost killed.

  But at least she’s safe now.

  Everything is right with the world now.

  Alice

  It all happens so quickly.

  One moment, I’m in the grey room with my hands behind me.

  They have taken off the tape over my mouth, although it’s only so they can watch me scream as they taunt me. Hands grab every exposed part of my body, so I back myself into the corner just to have more surfaces covering me. Still, the hands keep groping and squeezing and grabbing.