Chapter Three
Preston blinked into the darkness, but it didn’t clear. His head felt foggy and achier than after his last concussion. His body was heavy and disjointed. He was lying facedown on a metal surface and quickly realized his hands and feet were bound together. Everything seemed to be rocking slightly, making him dizzy and nauseous. He could hear the thrum of an engine and smelled diesel fuel.
As the third of four brothers, you didn’t call for help—it just wasn’t done—but Preston had never been hog-tied and obviously drugged before. All he remembered was watching the alluring, smart, and impressive Alyandra Heathrow walk away, then taking a solid hit to the head, but he had no clue how he’d ended up here. He was terrified and confused and he let a yell of “Help!” out before he could stop himself.
“Preston?” a female voice asked from close by. He could hear the person scooting closer to him and then smelled the delicious scent of coconut. It almost negated the diesel fuel smell. Sadly, nothing could negate the unsettling situation or the pain in his head. “Preston?” she repeated. “Are you okay?”
“Who are you? What’s happening?” he demanded.
“Ally Heathrow.”
He tried to arch up but couldn’t move. He’d thought it was Ally in here with him, but his question had meant to ask who she really was and what she was hiding. In the garden, Ally had claimed to have tempted him there for some social media stunt. She was beautiful and intriguing, but did she seduce him away from the party for social media, or something more nefarious? “Who are you really? You lured me into that garden so somebody could kidnap me?”
“Oh!” He heard her grunt of disgust. “As if I could lure you anywhere. I’m not involved in this. I’m tied up too!”
He wasn’t sure what to believe, and his panicked mind couldn’t process any reason why someone would kidnap him and Ally Heathrow. He barely knew her and he’d done nothing to tick anybody off—well, unless they were fanatical sports fans and were mad that he’d beaten their favorite football team. But come on, nobody was that crazy.
“Where are we?” Preston continued with the questions, glaring into the surrounding darkness. “Is there anyone else in here with us? Has anyone talked to you? Are you tied up?”
“I only came to a few minutes before you did. I haven’t heard anyone else moving around. I was propped against the wall with my hands tied behind me.”
“But not your feet?”
“No.”
“Can you work your way around to my hands and we can see if we can loosen your knots or mine?”
“Sure.” She scooted around, and a few seconds later her hands brushed his, sending a tingling of warmth and reassurance through him—which was insane, because there was nothing reassuring about this situation.
She started working on his knots but didn’t say anything. He could hear water lapping against metal. Maybe they were on a boat? The thrum of the motor eased as if they were slowing and then the noise stopped completely, but the diesel smell lingered. He didn’t like that engine stopping. Would someone come for them now? Before they got their ropes off and stood a fighting chance?
“Sorry I accused you of being part of this,” he said.
She grunted but didn’t answer him.
“Do you have any clue why someone would want to kidnap you?” If he had more facts maybe he could figure out how to secure their freedom.
“Nobody would want to kidnap me,” she shot back, her fingernail digging into his wrist.
“Ow.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s you they’re after. I’m just an unfortunate extra for them to deal with.”
Preston felt a stronger terror rush through him at the way she’d said that. Human trafficking. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Ally that she was the most beautiful woman at that party, the most beautiful and intriguing woman he’d been around in a while. Some of the guys had joked about it, said how smart Bucky was to hire such a pretty, shapely marketing director, as none of them would be able to tell her no. When she’d given him an alluring look and brushed against him last night, he’d followed the intriguing beauty without a second thought.
But that beauty was now a terrifying thought, a huge bonus for a trafficker hoping to make a big paycheck off of her. She had to get his ropes free so he could protect her. Yet how many men, weapons, or debilitating drugs did their captors have at their disposal? He hadn’t even seen anyone coming last night—well, he thought it was last night. They’d had little trouble incapacitating him, and could easily do it again while they had their fun with Ally.
“Any luck on the ropes?” he muttered, not wanting Ally to know what he was thinking. Then again, judging by her comment, she might have already allowed her mind to go there. A shudder passed over him.
“I think the knots are loosening. Are you cold?”
“No.” He wasn’t about to tell her why he’d shivered.
The door was flung open and bright light spilled in, outlining two silhouettes. Preston blinked up at them. No! The fear of what could happen to Ally overshadowed everything else. These men might hurt him physically, but he could handle that a lot easier than them hurting or exploiting Ally. He hardly knew her but felt fiercely protective of her, probably an instinct he would feel for any woman placed in this situation. Had he gotten her into this because of his fame?
The two men eased into the small room, not saying a word. Ally scrambled to her feet and stood in front of him, bravely facing them. Preston struggled to get to his knees, but the ropes were tied too tightly.
The light illuminated the small space, which looked like an empty storage closet. Two more men appeared at the door, partially blocking the light, but it was easy to see the machine guns held loosely in their hands. Preston’s stomach took a nosedive.
One of the first men to enter yanked a knife out of his belt. He tried to navigate around Ally to get to Preston. Ally threw herself at the man, knocking into his other arm and luckily not spearing herself with the knife.
“Ally, no!” Preston yelled, bucking his body to try to break the ropes or somehow hit the man.
“You won’t hurt him!” Ally screamed, unable to do much besides push at the guy, with her own hands bound behind her back. She was a glorious sight with determination to protect him evident in her beautiful face and the lines of her curvy body. Her dark hair was falling out of its updo and curling wildly around her face.
“Don’t hurt her,” Preston commanded the man. “I’ll pay anything, do anything.”
The other guy in the room grabbed Ally and pinned her against him. He smiled, appearing to enjoy the contact far too much. “He cut ropes,” he said. None of the other men showed any emotion to Ally’s or Preston’s passionate pleas, and that scared Preston almost as much as the guns they held, and the knife coming his direction.
The man knelt next to him, lifted the ropes away from his lower back, and sliced the rope that tied his ankles to his hands. He then carefully cut the ropes binding Preston’s ankles, sheathed the knife in a holder on his belt, crouched, and helped Preston scramble to his feet. Preston’s hands were still bound behind his back and his heart was still thumping out of control, but as the men in the doorway backed up, he breathed a little easier. They’d gone to a lot of trouble to kidnap them. Maybe all they wanted was money. He had plenty of that.
The four men marched Preston and Ally along a brightly lit, spacious hallway. Preston’s head was feeling a little better but still had a dull throb. They climbed some steps and pushed out a door onto a wide deck of an obviously expensive yacht. From what he could tell, they were anchored in lots of turquoise-blue water. A small man with Spanish ancestry dressed in business casual sat at a glass patio table, typing away at a laptop.
Preston and Ally were brought to a halt a short distance away, next to some plush outdoor couches. The men stepped back, but two of them kept guns trained on Preston. The man at the table ignored all of them; Preston assumed he was trying to intimidate
or belittle them.
Ally looked beautiful and terrified, still wearing her fancy pale blue dress and heels from last night. Preston wished he could squeeze her hand or comfort her somehow. He tried to communicate with his gaze that he would protect her, that she’d be okay. She focused on him and gave him a brave smile, impressing him even more. She seemed to be dealing with all of this much better than he was. He returned the smile and mouthed, “You’ll be okay.”
“No, she might not be okay, Mr. Preston Steele.” The man at the table spoke and stood so quickly that Preston jumped and turned to face him. He had a distinctive Spanish accent but spoke perfect English.
The man took his time, walking close and checking them out as he came. He was almost a foot shorter than Preston’s six-four; he was even shorter than Ally with her high heels on. He reeked of expensive cologne and dirty power.
“I’ll pay any number you name to secure her freedom,” Preston said, as evenly and dispassionately as he could manage. As nice as the yacht was, Preston was very afraid that this wasn’t about money. But wasn’t everything about money to a guy like this?
“No, Preston,” Ally shot out. “I’m not going without you.”
“Ally.” Preston wished he knew her better, knew how to beg her to go if they’d set her free. He didn’t think she understood the difference between what they could do to him and what they would do to her. His headache grew in force again.
The little man smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your wish to be together.”
“What do you want?” Preston ground out.
“I’m about to tell you—patience, large American football player, patience.”
Him saying patience like that dug at Preston. His older brother Jex was fond of saying, “Patience, my boy, patience.” He’d even said it in some of his YouTube videos. Had this guy stalked Preston’s family?
“I am Carlos Sanchez the Third.” He paused as if they should be impressed. When neither of them acknowledged his name, he pushed out a frustrated breath and pointed. “You see the beautiful island over there?”
Preston’s and Ally’s gazes swiveled. There was indeed a beautiful tropical island a few football fields away that Preston hadn’t seen initially. It had some elevation and lots of lush foliage. It was probably less than a couple miles in circumference.
“It’s a lovely spot. There’s a natural spring that feeds a beautiful waterfall, giving fresh water and a spot to bathe.” He smiled as if he was a tour guide. “There are fresh mangos, papayas, guava, and coconut. No natural predators on this exotic retreat—maybe a few spiders. Nothing that can actually kill you.” He pointed to a speedboat tied up to the platform at the back of the yacht. “I have been generous enough to prepare boxes full of food and bedding for your stay. Well, enough for Preston to survive on for a few weeks. You’ll have to ration with the two of you.”
“You’re leaving us on a deserted island?” Preston stated.
Carlos laughed. “Apparently you haven’t taken too many hits to the head, football star. You guessed correctly.”
“Why?” And how long would they spend here? Trapped on a tropical island with Ally didn’t sound too bad, and it was infinitely more appealing than staying with these men or his fears of them trafficking Ally and torturing him, but why would this man go to all the trouble of kidnapping them just to strand them here?
The man moved quickly, getting right up in Preston’s face and poking a finger in his chest. “Your brother stole my brother. When he sees that I’ve captured you, he’ll make an exchange.” He smiled again and his gaze slid to Ally. “When the boys told me how the woman came back to check on you so they decided to bring her along, I assumed that’s even better insurance. Maybe your brother doesn’t love you as much as I love my brother, but he’s a former American military hero. Of course he would want to rescue the pretty lady.”
Ally flinched at his words, and her dark eyes narrowed.
“Gunner stole your brother?” Preston was confused and suddenly sick. He’d blamed Ally for luring him to the spot where they were captured. How wrong he’d been. It was his fault Ally was in this mess.
She was still glaring angrily at Carlos, but then she met Preston’s gaze, and the vulnerability in her eyes made him want to protect her even more. She didn’t say anything, standing stoically and bravely in the face of these men who were most likely either terrorists, drug dealers, traffickers, or all of the above.
Carlos nodded grimly. “And I want him back.”
“But if Gunner stole your brother …” Preston’s mind was whirling. “He would’ve taken him for the United States Navy. They’re not going to negotiate with you.” If Gunner couldn’t negotiate with this man, would they just leave Preston and Ally here until they died? Send them to Gunner piece by piece until they got what they wanted? What if Preston had just said the wrong thing, making this man realize how stupid his plan was, and they’d simply slit their throats and drop them in the ocean?
The man barked out a laugh and stepped back, spreading his hands. “Your brother does not work for the United States military.”
“Excuse me? Gunner’s been in the Navy since he graduated high school.” Gunner had always been more serious than the other brothers and had enlisted in the Navy, gone to the Naval Academy, then trained as a SEAL. From all they’d heard, he was highly decorated; his most recent rank advancement had been from lieutenant to lieutenant commander. Their mama was very proud and spent a lot of time on her knees praying.
Smiling silkily, Carlos shook his head. “Your brother has been lying to you. He hasn’t been in the Navy for almost a year. He is currently one of Sutton Smith’s operatives. Do you know of Sutton Smith?”
Preston nodded, wondering why Gunner or this man would lie to him. “I met him at a party last year.” He’d been impressed with the distinguished man and his famous wife, formerly a duchess and named the most beautiful woman in the world. Preston glanced at Ally again. He’d told her she was the most beautiful woman at that party last night. It was still true, but their sickening situation made looks pretty unimportant. He wished now that she wasn’t so tempting so the men around them wouldn’t be inclined to go after her.
Carlos chuckled. “You Americans and your stuffy parties.” He gestured to the two of them. “Enjoying a fancy party at the illustrious Bucky Buchanan’s mansion when my men disabled the security sensors, cut through a back fence, and took you. Bucky loves his beautiful ladies.” He leered at Ally’s chest. “Too bad he doesn’t spend as much effort protecting their lovely bodies.”
Preston’s stomach churned at the way Carlos was staring at Ally. He’d rather be stuck on that island for years than allow Carlos to touch her. His gaze darted to the four armed men. He’d go down fighting if any of them attempted anything. Maybe it was stupid, but he was a Steele and could never allow a woman to be injured while he sat by. Gunner was the noblest of any of them. Could he truly be lying to their family? Why? They all would’ve understood if he retired from the Navy and worked for the illustrious Sutton Smith.
“Look at you.” Carlos’s gaze swept over Ally, undressing her with his eyes. “All dressed up and so incredibly beautiful, but I’m sure you’ve never been to a party like I would host.” He eased in closer to her, and Preston tensed. “Would you like to come to one of my parties? We can dump Mr. Steele on the island, and you …” He licked his lips. “You I would spoil rotten.”
“No, thank you,” Ally said with plenty of spice and bite in her voice. She tilted her chin in an obvious challenge. “I’d rather swim with the sharks.”
Carlos looked startled at her rebuff. Preston inched closer to them; thankfully, the guards’ attention was on Ally as well, and none of them swung their gun to bear on him. His hands tied up, no weapon, and five to one. The odds weren’t great.
Carlos chuckled and then tsked. He ran his tongue over his lips and his eyes swept over her fitted blue dress again. “It’s a pity. Such a body. Wasting away in the hot
sun. Maybe dying here if Gunner Steele doesn’t return my brother in full health. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come with me? I would never force you to do anything, simply let you enjoy my spacious estate in Colombia and give you time to see that I’m worthy of your affection.”
Preston was almost in the right position. He could tackle the first gunman into the second one, and maybe in the confusion he could maneuver the knife off one of the men’s belts and cut his ropes free. Then he could grab one of their weapons and have a fighting chance. He didn’t think they wanted him or Ally dead, so that would work in his favor.
“I truly appreciate the offer,” Ally said. Preston saw the flicker of disgust in her eyes and respected the bite in her voice, though he hoped it didn’t make Carlos furious. “But I’m pretty partial to Preston, the hot sun, and remote tropical islands.”
Carlos studied her for a few seconds. Preston’s heart was thumping uncontrollably at the crazy move he was about to pull. He was ready to leap when Carlos clapped his hands together and smiled. “Well, my dear, don’t say I didn’t offer when you’re sticky with sweat, bored with Preston’s company, and sick of spiders crawling over you.” He laughed. “Let’s get you two to your tropical paradise. You’ll be able to grow really close until your brother comes for you.”
Preston’s brain didn’t catch up as quickly as his ears. Carlos wasn’t going to force Ally to stay with him or attack her? He was going to send them to the island unharmed? Relaxing his taut stance, he didn’t question Carlos’s decision as two men grabbed him and two took Ally’s arms and walked them to the speedboat.
“Best wishes,” Carlos called from the yacht as the men cast the ropes off from the yacht and started the motor. They pulled away from the yacht and toward the island.
Steele Family Romance Collection Page 13