Scarlett repeated her question. “I said, do me a favor and check for a wedding ring on the hottie at table twenty-five.”
Jayla smiled, turning to look at the table in one of the ground floor VIP lounges. A circular table sat in the center of a secluded corner of the room, making it difficult to see in from her area of the floor. What she could make out were two blond men facing her, talking to someone else out of her line of sight.
“Which one?” she joked. The two blonds were attractive, in a surfer-esque way. Couldn’t have been older than thirty, one with a day’s worth of scruff and thick eyebrows, the other baby-faced.
“The dark-haired guy. Meow!” Evie called, laughing.
Merry joined them, picking up the two draft pints from Scarlett. “Oh, yeah, he grabbed my ass when I dropped off the menus, ask me if I mind? He’s gorgeous. Might be a model. If you’re putting in the good word, don’t forget to mention my name!”
Jayla picked up her tray, smiling. “I got you girls. One ‘model’ phone number coming right up.”
Another positive of being with Alistair? Her confidence had sky-rocketed. He constantly told her how beautiful, how perfect she was. He’d pepper her with kisses, hold her until she fell asleep. He told her often how smart, how strong she was. If she ever began to doubt herself, he was right there, refusing to allow her to believe any of her negative thoughts. Sometimes, even spanking them out of her.
Her face heated at the memory of being bent over his lap, his warm hand landing on her bare ass after she made a disparaging comment about herself for staying so long with her abuser. When she promised she’d never say it again, he turned her over, licking her until she came and growling sexy compliments into her skin.
He was helping her heal.
Weaving through the tables, she put on her best smile and walked toward the three men.
The blond with the thick brows saw her first, nodding in acknowledgment. He smiled at her, leaning back. “Well, hello, gorgeous. Is it a requirement to be beautiful to work here?”
She opened her mouth to respond, turning her head to glance at the dark-haired man when her world came crashing down.
“Are you serious? It’s been, what, four months since you two even met. Al, that’s … That’s…”
“Crazy? I know.” Alistair watched Jayla drop the empty glasses at the bar, unable to remove his eyes from his woman.
She was his everything. He fell asleep with her in his arms, always the last thought in his mind before he slept. When he woke, he needed her next to him, needed her skin against his. She made him happy. Whole.
“It’s right, though, man. I just know it.”
Gene laughed, shaking his head. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right.”
Alistair watched, arms crossed, as she moved again, walking toward the back corner of the club.
A staffing emergency at Snow’s shelter had the girls boarding for home a day earlier than scheduled, yet it was a relief to have her back, safe. He wished she had stayed in Austin until he was certain Jeffrey was gone. But according to Pete, he was scheduled to depart for California in a few hours and there had been no indication that Jeffrey had any idea that Jayla was in the city.
He’s got a red-eye tomorrow, Al. Quit worrying.
“Just a suggestion,” Gene offered, rocking back in his chair. “You might want to wait a bit though. Beast bought a ring last week. He wanted to wait for Belle to graduate.”
Alistair smiled. “Is that so? Fuck me. Where’d you learn that?
Gene’s lips lifted in a smirk. “Cynthia told me.”
“Cynthia, huh?” Alistair asked, brow cocked. “Something I need to know?”
Gene’s head fell back on his shoulders as he sighed. “I wish.” Looking forward, he added, “She’s just waiting to fall in love with me. I can feel it.”
Alistair laughed and shook his head. The thought of the Beast, the self-professed commitment-phobe settling down, it was … wonderful, really. Belle was remarkable. She was smart, beautiful, and cared for the girls as if they were her family. Belle was perfect for Aleks.
Almost as perfect as Jayla is for me.
Looking back to her movements on the serving floor, she’d stopped in front of the VIP section. His body reacted to her expression even before he recognized her distress. The room narrowed, his sights only on her — tunnel vision — as sounds around him ceased. Something’s wrong.
He was out of his seat before her tray hit the floor.
A dark-haired man at the table stood and she took a step back, nearly falling over an empty chair.
Fuck.
Taking the stairs two at a time, with Gene quickly behind him. He reached the floor just as the dark-haired man grabbed Jayla’s wrist, and his world turned red.
No. No, no, no!
“Wh-what — why…” she couldn’t speak. Blood throbbed in her neck, her pulse vibrated inside her skull. Her knees weakened and she grabbed the chair behind her for support.
Jeffrey.
Jeffrey grabbed her wrist, squeezing to the point of pain. Wincing, she tried to pull away.
“What are you doing?” one of the blonds asked, turning his attention to his friend, bewildered.
“What the fuck is this?” Jeffrey asked, turning her arm, looking at the cheetah print.
“G — let…” she couldn’t breathe. Panic seized her lungs.
Jeffrey is here.
He’s going to kill me.
He stood, towering over her, pulling her closer to him. Too scared to look away, her gaze trailed up to his face.
He’d aged, slightly. His skin was darker, as if he’d been on vacation. His dark brows furrowed as he sneered at her.
His reddish-brown eyes so bright they almost looked red as blood. The feature had once mesmerized her, but now she could see what the color hid. The snake within.
His eyes held her paralyzed as her vision dimmed. Five sounds … five sounds … five…
“Let her go,” a voice commanded.
Can’t breathe. Can’t move. She’d trained for this moment — hours of self-defense classes “just in case”. Yet here, with him actually standing in front of her, her mind shut down. The traumas she suffered because of him, the lingering fear … her panic was too strong to contain.
“I don’t think so,” Jeffrey answered, not removing his gaze. “You’re coming with me, Jasmine.”
Her name — her real name — coming from his lips, took the air from her lungs.
“You’ve got the wrong woman, there, buddy. Now move your fucking hand before I remove it for you.”
Jayla turned, her head moving slowly as she registered Alistair standing next to Jeffrey, Gene only a few feet behind, moving toward them. Out of the corner of her right eye, two more of Alistair’s men came into view.
“I think I’d know my own wife. Isn’t that right, Jasmine?” Jeffrey responded, his grip tightening, his short nails digging into her skin.
“Bullshit.” Alistair’s angry inflection floated through the air, yet the blood rushed so loudly against her skull, she’d just barely made out the words.
Jeffrey’s laugh sounded even more sinister than she’d remembered. “It seems I’m not the only one you’ve lied to, is it, pussycat?” he hissed.
She cried out as he pulled her into him, the pain of her twisting wrist nearly buckling her knees. His hot breath against her face another assault to her senses as he lowered his voice, whispering cruelly. “You are my wife. Mine. You have always been mine. You will always be mine. Until your last breath.” Pausing, he looked at Alistair. Voice louder, he spat, “Tell them the truth.”
Jayla’s heart beat against her chest. Her body quaked uncontrollably, her chest rising raggedly as she struggled to find air. Alistair spoke, but his words no longer registered. All she could hear, all she could focus on, was Jeffrey. His grip tightened, twisting so that her body was forced to bend awkwardly to prevent the wrist bone from breaking.
“Tell
them!”
Voices again rose in the background. She felt the heat of another body closer to her yet couldn’t make out who it belonged to. They’re trying to save me.
They’re too late.
All she could see was the deep reddish tint of Jeffrey’s eyes shining in the stage lights, as dark as the blood spilled on her white kitchen floor. Looking down, the handle of the knife jutted out from her side, droplets falling onto her bare feet. She staggered backwards, no longer feeling his grip on her. No longer seeing. She’d been without air far too long.
It’s over.
Her body collapsed as a welcoming darkness took her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Alistair watched helplessly as Jayla’s eyes lost their focus. She was succumbing to another flashback. Considering how horrid the last had been, now with Jeffrey actually here, he couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through. Her eyes were wide in fear, tears coating the bottom lashes. Jeffrey’s fingers caused deep indentations in her wrist, a small drop of blood against her skin from a fingernail cut.
“Release her,” Alistair commanded again, his forearms tensing as his hands balled into fists, ready to strike.
“I wouldn’t, boy,” Jeffrey taunted, yet he finally turned toward Alistair, his grip loosening. “You wouldn’t want to assault a federal agent,” he sneered.
“Try me,” Alistair seethed, having enough of Jeffrey’s grip on her.
Suddenly, Jayla swayed, her body going limp. Peter rushed forth, the closest to her, catching her head from hitting the floor and wrapping his arm around her waist. Jeffrey tried to pull her into him again, yet Alistair moved quickly, wrapping his hand around Jeffrey’s tie, pulling the man closer to him.
“Release. Her.” He commanded again, his shaking hand in Jeffrey’s clothing serving to prove how close he was to completely losing it. “Now.”
Instead of anger, Jeffrey calmly looked down to the hand wrapped in his shirt and tie, looking back up as his pointed brow cocked, a sickening smile crossing his features. His eyes lifted, his gaze circling around Alistair, seeming to note the amount of guards ready to fight for her freedom. A few tense moments later, he released her arm, allowing her to fall fully into Peter’s grasp.
“Take her backstage, Pete. I’ll be there for her in just a moment,” Alistair spoke each word deliberately slowly, wanting Jeffrey to know he’d be the only one of them allowed near her. Taking stock of the man in front of him for the first real time, Alistair felt his body heating.
Jeffrey was tall — Alistair had to look up slightly to meet his gaze — yet slender. His clothing hid what Alistair assumed to be a toned physique, much more capable of damage than what someone would assume. His eyes were cold, calculating. Showing a level of intelligence not easily matched. This was not a man who would make a rash decision, or who would intimidate easily. As much as Alistair hated to admit it, he could prove a problem for him and his team.
Jeffrey’s eyes narrowed, turning his head slightly to speak to the two young men he was with. “Stay here. Enjoy the rest of the show. I’ll get back to you both shortly.”
Alistair’s heart thundered in his chest, yet he squared his shoulders as his eyes narrowed, loosening his grip to allow the man to walk in front of him.
“Upstairs and out,” Alistair commanded, already aware the altercation between the two men was just beginning. Turning toward his men, he nodded at Gene, who he knew would be closely behind. Peter was walking toward the office, a limp Jayla cradled in his arms. Alistair longed to be with her instead, yet her safety came first.
Shaking his sleeves and straightening his shirt, Jeffrey moved out the main doors.
Walking down the dim corridor which would lead upstairs, Jeffrey spoke, his tone indicating an air of superiority. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Jeffrey Alwazir.”
“I know who you are,” Alistair answered back curtly.
“Ah. It seems my reputation precedes me then. And who might you be?” Jeffrey’s words were mild, yet Alistair could nearly feel the malice in his tone.
“That’s none of your concern,” he answered, not wanting to give anything else about Jayla away. Jeffrey now knew her alias, where she worked, lived. The wheels in his mind were spinning, trying to figure out what she would say, do, now that Jeffrey came to New York. She’ll want to leave.
His heart clenched at the thought of losing her. Again.
I’ll go with her.
“I’d say I have every right to know the name of the man fucking my wife.”
Alistair’s attention snapped back to the present moment. Heat rushed through his veins, his jaw clenching. In an instant, Alistair’s hands found Jeffrey’s shirt once again, shoving him against the wall in the small hallway.
“She’s not your fucking wife,” he hissed.
“Ha! Poor boy, is that what she told you?” he mused.
The calmness in his tone only served to enrage Alistair more. Wife! Logic told him this was not the time to lose his temper, yet he was seconds from snapping.
“I’d say it’s a pretty good bet the marriage is over when one spouse tries to kill the other, don’t you think?” he asked, accentuating the word kill with another shove against the wall.
Jeffrey’s smile widened. “That’s what I miss the most about her. My pussycat bleeds so beautifully. Shame you can’t see what else I’ve done to her, she’s hidden it quite well.” He tilted his head slightly. “Or did she find you before she covered all my markings up?”
Alistair’s entire body shook with rage. His lips parted to speak, yet Jeffrey cut him off.
“My second favorite part?” He leaned forward, touching his nose to Alistair’s, his voice dropping in a slow whisper. “The way she would scream when I fucked her. I made sure it hurt as much as possible, just to hear her begging for mercy.”
A growl escaped his throat as Alistair’s fist reeled back. Just before he could strike forward, a large hand covered his, stopping the momentum.
Alistair’s turned toward the interruption, barely seeing through the haze of rage.
“Federal. Agent,” Gene’s harsh whisper warned. He took his own grip on Jeffrey’s shirt, pulling him away from the wall. Bringing Jeffrey to his own face, he uttered coldly, “I’m not willing to let him rot in jail, but I’m about five seconds from giving myself the pleasure.”
With that, he switched his grip on Jeffrey, grasping him by the back of the collar and hauling him upwards. Pushing forward, he nearly dragged the man up the stairs.
Alistair inhaled deeply, his entire body thrumming with energy. Gene was right — if he so much as touched the man, he’d not only be arrested, but also serve time. Jeffrey would ensure he’d be locked away for as long as possible. Which would leave Jayla vulnerable. He waited, watching with delight when Jeffrey’s shoe caught on the top stair, tripping him forward as Gene continued to pull, not caring in the least the man was struggling.
He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. The things that fucker said — Alistair knew he was telling the truth. Letting the air out, he tried counting backwards from ten, yet the only thing on his mind was his Princess.
She lied.
About her name. About being married.
But worst of all, she lied about what Jeffrey had done to her.
It was worse. So much worse than he ever could have imagined.
He thought to their times together, to how much she trusted him not to hurt her. What she let him do — tie her up, down. Play rough. After what she had been through.
He wasn’t just grateful for her trust. He was fucking humbled by it.
The truth gutted him. His breath caught in his throat as a hot tear ran down his face.
If I see him again, I’ll fucking kill him.
Jayla could hear the rush of activity around her. She struggled against the haze that made her thoughts slow and difficult. She turned her head away from the bright light overhead. It was too bright, even with her
eyes closed.
“How the fuck did he get in here? I thought you were watching.” Gene’s hushed whisper sounded harsh.
“I was. She was supposed to be in Austin!” Peter returned the whisper, just as angrily.
Are they talking about me?
“Well she isn’t.”
“Obviously. Is she okay? Should we go to a hospital?”
“No, she just fainted. Did we at least get his face on camera? Can we watch for him?”
“Yeah, on it. I sent it to Tink too. We entered it into the system. We should be able to hack into traffic cams and security systems for several blocks around the club. If he comes back, we’ll know.”
Gene laughed, a low rumble. “You mean just like in Fast and Furious?”
Peter’s voice rose, the sound angry. “Fuck you. I had the idea first.”
“Sure, ya did, kid.”
Jayla opened her eyes.
“She’s waking up,” he commented, quietly.
Gene squatted beside her, his hands in her hair as he soothed her. “It’s okay, Jayla. You’re safe now.”
Jayla blinked a few times, looking around. They were backstage. She was sprawled on the soft, firm pillows of the couch. Her wrist throbbed.
Groaning, she tried to sit up. “Easy, darlin’,” Gene commented, moving to sit next to her, bringing her head to his chest as he rubbed her back. “Genie’s got ya. You’re okay.”
“Where’s Alistair?” she asked, her voice thick.
“He’s, uh … he’ll be here soon,” Gene stalled.
Jeffrey.
She lifted her head too quickly off his chest, dizziness settling back in. Alistair. She moved to stand, but her knees buckled and she fell back onto the couch.
“Down, darlin’,” Gene spoke again, softly. “I promise you he’ll be here soon. He’s okay.”
She turned, looking at the large man sitting next to her on the couch. A small smile graced his lips, bald head shining in the overhead light. “He’s okay, I swear.”
She bent forward, leaning her head in her hands.
Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2) Page 28