by Jamie Begley
Grace went inside the restroom, shutting the door. She had a problem with it. She learned a long time ago men eventually grew tired of just looking. Women could look at something they wanted and dream about it, work for it, and save for countless days to have it. Men wanted things immediately. If they couldn’t buy it, they would borrow, bribe, or bargain for what they wanted. Eventually, they would grow tired and try to take it. That was what Grace feared the most.
She noticed Ice’s circle of friends consisted of six men who were loyal to him and followed his lead. However, there were over thirty men in that room, and Grace didn’t want to be trapped there when Hell broke loose and a confrontation from the two groups occurred.
She had thought Ice was behind the prison escape, but he had led them down to the cellblock instead. He and his men could have used the food delivery truck and possibly managed to get away. Could someone else have been behind the prison break and Ice was only trying to protect his men? Something was off to her, and she couldn’t figure out why.
She quickly used the restroom, washing her face and hands. Then she put her jacket back on and buttoned her cream blouse to her throat. She fixed and straightened her hair as best she could without a brush before opening the door.
Ice’s lips twitched when he saw her. “Very professional.”
Grace avoided staring at several tattoos across his broad chest.
“Why don’t you put on a shirt? Aren’t you cold?” The building was frigid.
“I’m fucking freezing,” he snapped back at her. “They turned off the heating. My shirt, if you can call it that, is over in the door where we jammed them at the bottom to keep out the tear gas. Would you rather I wear the shirt instead of not choking to death on that shit?”
“Never mind,” she said, irritated at his comeback. The bastard knew he had an amazing body, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes off it. Why couldn’t he be a normal man, working a normal job? She didn’t care what profession a man worked as long as he wasn’t behind bars.
“Want something to eat?” he asked when she took a seat at one of the vacant tables.
She folded her arms across her chest. “No,” she answered grumpily.
He raised a brow at her response.
“I could use something to drink if you have it.”
When Ice nodded, stepping away, Max and Jackal took seats next to her. She gave them an aggravated look, getting tired of having them surrounding her so closely. Instantly, she changed her mind when a fight broke out between two prisoners in front of the table she was sitting at. Max stood tossing both of them away, before retaking his seat.
“You're not exactly a morning person, are you?” Max asked as if he had just thrown the men several feet like they were toothpicks.
“I need my caffeine.” Every morning, she would always stop by Starbucks and get her Café Mistro and oatmeal. Sometimes, she would vary the meal, though never the coffee.
A cup of coffee was set down in front of her along with a microwavable Danish. Ice then placed a couple of packets of sugar and creamer in front of her.
“How?”
“Fade broke into the commissary,” Ice said, watching her tear open the packets of sugar. Her fingers trembled as she tried to ignore the fascination she was beginning to feel for him.
She stared across the room, seeing Fade now attempting to break into another locked metal door. She had noticed him doing it last night.
“What’s he trying to break into now; the storage room for more clothes?” she wisecracked as she took a grateful sip of her coffee after adding both packets of sugar and creamer.
“No, solitary.”
Her gaze went back to Fade working. She hoped he was unsuccessful because she didn’t want another prisoner added to the already-full room. Immediately, she felt guilty. The man in that room hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon.
She tore a piece of her Danish off, but both Max and Jackal forestalled her by raising their hands.
“We already ate.” Max grinned.
Grace popped the sweet pastry in her mouth, devouring it within a minute.
“How do you stay so thin with the way you like sugar?” Ice’s gaze swept over her body.
Grace licked the remains of the icing clinging to her lip, shrugging. “I’m lucky, always have been. It makes my mom and CeCe furious.”
Ice’s eyes were focused on her mouth. Self-consciously, she licked her lips again to make sure she hadn’t left any icing on them.
“Damn.” He left suddenly without another word.
“What’s his problem?”
“I think he realized he was hungry,” Jackal said as the men began gathering around the television set.
“What’s going on?” Grace looked at the screen while someone turned the volume up.
“Who is that?” Max asked as the men admired the lithe blonde on the screen. Next to her stood an even taller man with his arm around her shoulder, supporting her. His muscular frame almost filled the small television screen.
“That’s Oceane Fournier and her husband, Dalton Andrews.”
“How do you know who they are?” Max asked Jackal.
“Because I watch his movies,” Jackal answered.
Max stared hard at the screen while Grace stood, her face going ashen.
“He’s the one in those car movies?”
“Yes. Now shut the fuck up so I can hear what the fuck they’re saying.”
“Please, release Adrienne. We will pay any amount of money you want.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ice move to see the television.
“Who in the hell is Adrienne?” Max asked, staring around the room while everyone else’s eyes came to her.
“I am.”
Chapter 8
The reporter on the television screen began talking, thankfully directing everyone’s attention from her.
“If everyone remembers, Adrienne Graciene was the upcoming model who was taking the runways by storm in Paris when she was kidnapped during a vacation with her parents. She was held for six weeks before the authorities finally were able to locate her and rescue her. The two other models she was with were not found alive.”
Grace grasped the chair she was standing behind, praying she wouldn’t pass out as the two women’s pictures were shown, followed by a much younger picture of herself, looking carefree and happy.
“Fuck!” Ice’s harsh exclamation had her wincing, but she couldn’t take her attention away from the screen¸ as the next image was one which had haunted her for years. Leon Winston’s mug shot with his grin for the camera had no regrets for the lives he had destroyed.
“I remember that, the sick fuck,” Jackal growled. “Your dad was the one on TV then, begging for your return.”
Grace nodded yet didn’t answer.
“Please, please, let her go. She’s already been through so much. Don’t put her through any more.” Her mother broke down crying.
Her father moved away from the camera and her brother stepped forward.
“My parents and I would like to thank each of you for your support and any help you may provide for my sister’s safe return. I have personally talked to the warden, and he has assured me he wants an amicable resolution to this difficult situation. I will personally give two million dollars to be divided to those inside who are able to guarantee her safe release. If my sister is hurt in any way, there will be no hole you can hide in. I will destroy you.”
The reporters began screaming questions, but Dax stepped away. The news then started recapping the conference.
“Your brother is Dax Andrews, the movie producer?” Ice asked.
“Yes.”
He picked up one of the chairs and threw it across the room. “Damn it to Hell.”
He paced around the room as the men began talking among themselves. Jackal and Max moved closer, edging her away to the table she had been sitting at before her parents had come on the television.
Ice finally came to stand before her, furious. “That’s why you were so calm. This isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m afraid I have a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Sadness filled her at the memories of her close friends.
“That’s a fucking understatement.” Ice’s snide voice raised her hackles.
“What do you want, for me to apologize for being taken hostage? If you hadn’t planned this lame-brained scheme, I would be safe and sound at my home.” She was practically screaming at Ice.
Ice jerked her up from the chair. “Calm down, baby. Don’t lose your cool now when you’re going to need it the most.”
“What I need is to be released.”
“Why would we let you go now? You’re our biggest bargaining chip,” Ice reasoned harshly.
“When I get out of here, my brother is going to whip your ass,” she threatened.
“He has to catch me first. Besides, I think I can handle a producer who doesn’t do anything except give orders all day.” His hand went to her throat as if he wanted to strangle her. He had just said he needed her, didn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t sabotage his own plans and harm her.
“Like you?” she said tartly.
His rigid body showed he wasn’t happy with the comparison. She waited for him to bark back another caustic retort; instead, she found herself battling her emotions once again.
“Jackal isn’t the only one who watched your dad’s movies. I remember when you were kidnapped, too. The bastard’s fortunate all they did to him was stick him in a mental hospital.”
“That’s where he needed to be. He’s ill.” That was what she told herself every morning and every night to regain the life he had stolen from her.
Ice stared deeply in her eyes. Grace imagined him reading the thoughts she kept hidden from everyone, including herself. His hand around her throat became almost caressing.
“Ice!” Fade called from the doorway.
“Jackal—” he began to order.
“I’ve got her. Go.” She took a deep breath when he released her.
Grace watched as Ice and Fade went to the door leading to solitary confinement and talked.
“How many are stuck in there?” she asked curiously.
“Just one,” Max answered.
“Are they going to be able to get him out?”
“Fade can break into anything. It’s his skill.”
“What’s your skill?” Despite herself, she wanted to get to know these men better.
“I can beat the shit out of anyone.” Max puffed up like it was an accomplishment to be proud of.
“That it?”
He was disappointed in her reaction. “Usually, women think that’s hot. I can do other stuff, too.”
Grace patted his arm. “I’m sure you can. You’re getting really good on the computer,” she praised.
“Don’t treat me like a kid. I’m not stupid.” She had hurt his feelings. The big bear of a man was sensitive to being perceived as stupid.
“I didn’t mean that at all, Max. I was complimenting you. You were my best student. You understood the lessons faster than anyone and made less mistakes. I would have given you an A.”
“No shit?”
“Really.”
“What were you going to give Jackal?” Grace turned to the man who sat, quietly listening.
“An F. He was terrible.” Grace rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
Max’s loud laughter brought a smile to her lips. How she could find something amusing in the situation, she didn’t know, but the men beside her made her feel safe. She prayed it wasn’t another deadly mistake she was making.
* * *
“How much longer?” Ice demanded.
“I don’t know,” Fade answered his president. “I’m doing the best I can. They changed the code before I could get in. Now I’m going through layers of steel. Give me time.”
“That money Grace’s family offered just took away our time. This has gone from a local curiosity to a fucking media circus. We have to finish before they come in or the other men take her for the reward.”
“Got you. I’ll hurry.”
Ice nodded, leaving the brother to finish the job, which was turning out to be a cluster-fuck of major proportions. He had known something was up when a beautiful woman like Grace had buried herself at a small university. What woman did that? None he knew of, and there wasn’t much he didn’t know about women.
He heard Max’s laughter and saw his friend and brother happier than he had been in months. He wasn’t the only one Grace made feel that way. The woman managed to surprise him, and that hadn’t happened in years.
After what happened to her when she was barely seventeen, it was amazing she wasn’t a fucked-up mess. Ice was certain her parents paid a pretty Penny to fix the damage Winston had done. The man hadn’t even seen a day in court; he had been placed in a mental hospital since he’d lawyered up. Men like that disgusted him, and he was watching another one move closer to Grace as she talked to Max. While Church thought he was going to pull some sneaky shit, it was just going to get his ass in hot water.
When Ice stepped forward, making his presence known, Church’s eyes widened at the silent challenge, backing over to a group of men and keeping her within their reach in case the tactical team stormed the room. Every one of them planned to use her as their shield and gain part of the reward. Right now, Ice wished he could have Dax Andrews for five minutes. His reward placed his sister in even more danger.
Ice was forced to listen to the replays of Grace’s family on the television all day. He could tell it was beginning to get to Grace, too.
“Come on.” When he held his hand out to her, she took it and rose to her feet. He dropped it as soon as she stood.
He took her to the commissary, letting her stretch her legs. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
Inside the small store, which had already been plundered until it was almost empty, he handed her two different cups of microwavable soup.
“Which one?”
“The vegetable. I hate tomato.”
Ice opened them both and heated them in the microwave.
“What are you going to do, Ice? This isn’t going to last another day the way they’re eating it.”
“I know. I tried to tell them to ration it out, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“So, you’re not in charge?”
“No, just of my brothers.”
“Max, Jackal, Fade, and the others I see you talking to are your brothers?”
“Not family brothers,” he explained. “We belong to a motorcycle club. We’re closer than blood brothers.”
From her expression, he could tell he had gone even further down in her estimation. He wondered exactly what crimes she imagined he had committed. Her mind couldn’t comprehend some of the shit he was responsible for. He had been on the outs from the law since he was twelve and ran away from home. Over the years, he had never let the fucked-up legal system that dragged him back home to his old man decide what he should or should not do. When he was fifteen, he left home again. This time, he didn’t have to run; his old man had been too scared to stop him.
Ice handed the heated soup to Grace, noticing how she delicately sipped the hot liquid. He took a quick drink of his own soup to regain control of his dick which was about to become noticeable if he didn’t change the track his mind was taking.
“It’s not bad. I didn’t know prisoners had their own store. How do you pay for the things you want? Do they let you have money from your checking accounts to use?”
Ice almost laughed at her naiveté. “No, a family member puts money in an account, which you can spend.”
“Who put money in yours?” She turned bright red as soon as the question left her mouth.
“A brother of mine’s wife.”
She nodded. He could tell Grace wanted to ask more questions but didn’t. He liked i
t when a woman didn’t pry. He really didn’t want to explain the women back at the clubhouse. He knew one thing for sure: a woman like her wouldn’t understand the lifestyle of a biker and his bitches.
“Do you want anything else?”
“Could I get a soda?”
Ice reached past her shoulder, sliding open the door to the machine and pulling out one of the few remaining sodas.
“Here you go.” He handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Ice hated himself for what he was about to do yet couldn’t resist the impulse to touch her. He had wanted his hands on her since the first time he had seen her walk inside that classroom. As his hand circled her neck and brought her closer to his chest, she dropped the soda. He was grateful she hadn’t opened it yet; it would probably be the last one she would have for a while.
He brought his mouth down on her startled lips. When she tried to take a step back, his arm circled her waist, pulling her closer, despite her attempts to try to get away. His tongue parted her tense lips, thrusting inside her warm mouth, and he released a groan of satisfaction at the taste of her. Wanting more but aware she wasn’t responding, he took his mouth away.
“Don’t do that.” Her breath gave a little hitch, which nearly had him taking her mouth again.
“Baby, I don’t take orders. When I want something from you, I’ll take it.”
Her eyes widened in fear.
“Not that. I’d never hurt you or take you against your will.”
“But you just said—”
“You wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
“I did not.”
“Don’t lie. I know what a woman looks like when she’s curious how I’ll kiss her. Now you know.”
“Yes, I do, enough that I don’t want to kiss you again.”
“You want me to do a lot more than kiss you, but that’ll have to wait until we get out of here.”
“I thought I wasn’t your type?” He liked a woman with a little fire. Not much, but a little.