I Burned Down His House (Love at First Crime Book 3)

by Jessica Frances

  “Why does it have to mean anything? Can’t you just accept you’re happy with him and embrace that?”

  “I don’t know. I should. I really like Joey. Like, really like him. He’s not only totally different than Jarrod, but he’s different from everyone I know. He’s everything I want, wrapped up in a package so hot I want him all the time.”

  “We’re getting close into too much information territory,” he warns.

  “Shut up. I just mean, I guess I’m scared that it will go away. This has to be too good to be true, right?” My voice is meek, and I fear just voicing this will mean it’s true.

  “Not everything in life is set to fail, you know.”

  “I know that, and often in life, you have control of that. But Joey is half of this relationship. He’s holding my heart in his hands, and I don’t know how to breathe with him having so much power. It’s terrifying because I think I could easily become addicted to him.”

  Silence surrounds us after my confession. The weight of it is almost too much to bear.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Harvey finally speaks up. “I’ve witnessed Joey make a huge ass of himself several times because of you. He’s clearly into you. And from what the others say, this isn’t usual for him.”

  “I always knew I had a thing for Joey, I just didn’t realize how deep that could go so quickly.”

  “If you want my advice, then firstly, I have to wonder why the hell you do. I don’t even do relationships, remember? And then I would tell you to turn your brain off and just enjoy the ride. Sure, it might crash and burn, but worrying about that is just going to spoil the ride. You might as well be happy while you can.”

  I let his words soak in, finding them settling inside me.

  He’s right. I can’t exactly stop the direction we are heading in. Maybe we are heading for heartbreak. Maybe we aren’t. Either way, I can still choose to enjoy every second we are together.

  “Harvey, I think you might be a bit of a genius,” I murmur, looking up at him to see his attention isn’t on me.

  It’s on a man fast approaching us from the trail ahead.

  “Harvey?”

  “Turn around and run,” he snaps, releasing his grip on Karma’s leash and shoving it into my hand.

  “What?” I gasp, almost tripping when he pushes me behind him.

  “Run!” he barks.

  I freeze, seeing the man, who is taller and wider than Harvey, is almost on him.

  What the hell is happening?

  Once fists start flying, I do as I’m told and run.

  I’m not an expert on fighting, but I know I will be a hindrance rather than helpful.

  I grab my phone as I run, dialing Joey’s number with shaky hands. Karma’s barking almost makes me drop it before it connects.

  “Teags?”

  “Something’s wrong,” I huff out, slowing down a little so I can get my words out. “Harvey is fighting someone—” I break off my own words, screeching to a halt when a van careens up beside me, brakes squealing.

  I turn to my side, unable to make out who is there before hands grab me, pulling me closer to the street and the van.

  “Get off me!” I cry, glancing around wildly to find no one is around. There are no witnesses, no one able to step in to help.

  Karma is still here, though, and her growl is fierce as she leaps up at the man holding me, latching her teeth around his arm. From the sounds of his cry, she bites down hard.

  He releases me, but since a new man steps up, I don’t manage an inch of freedom.

  “Hart?” I gasp.

  Seeing his hard features up close scares me, but not worse than when he pulls out a gun.

  I have seen and fired enough guns to know he holds a Beretta M9A3, meaning there won’t be a gunshot sound alerting anyone nearby if he decides to fire it.

  When he points it at Karma, who is still gripping the other man’s arm, despite his kicks to get her off him, I realize too late what his intent is.

  “No!” I gasp, but I barely have the word out before he fires at her.

  There is no harsh crack of the bullet ejecting from the gun, though gun powder quickly becomes evident in the air. Instead, I only hear Karma’s yelp as she drops to the ground, panting and whining.

  “Karma!” I cry, dropping to my knees and touching her damp fur for a split-second before I am hauled back to my feet and dumped unceremoniously into the back of the van.

  “Don’t leave her. She needs help!” I cry, but no one listens.

  She is left on the side of the quiet street, no doubt bleeding out. No one even knows where we are.

  Tears blind me before something hard is knocked against the back of my head.

  I welcome the darkness. Anything is better than being awake in this terrifying situation.

  Chapter 18

  I become aware of my surroundings as soon as the club music blasts into my eardrums. There is laughter, yelling, whooping, as well as glasses clinking and cheers of celebration.

  Opening my eyes to the darkened room is easier than I expected. It’s the rest of my body that is slow to come online. Slow because it isn’t until we are elevating upstairs that I realize I’m being carried.

  “Wha …?” I mutter, a headache pounding though my head like it might split me in two.

  Why am I here?

  It’s too late for me to panic once I’m in Hart’s office. And when something comes over my mouth, preventing me from speaking, I don’t know what to do.

  My body feels like lead. How much time has passed since I was taken?

  Since Karma was shot?

  Since Harvey was attacked?

  Tears leak down my face, but I’m helpless as two men place zip ties around my wrists and ankles. Then I am thrown onto the sofa.

  “Watch her,” Hart barks to someone, leaving his office almost as quickly as he came in and leaving me alone with one of his men.

  My vision blurs, either from tears or from the headache still pounding away, so I close my eyes, wishing this could all be part of some horrible nightmare, one I will wake up from to find I am back at Sasha’s, safe and sound, with Joey lying in bed next to me, and Karma’s nails tapping along the floor as she looks for people to play with.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. The flashing lights and slight vibrations from the club outside isn’t what I want to see and feel.

  I’m in my bed. I’m in my bed, I keep chanting to myself, never daring to open my eyes again to confirm what I already know to be true.

  When the door reopens to let Hart in, I finally open my eyes. It feels like hours have passed.

  He has a smirk on his lips, a sheen of sweat on his face, and a bounce to his step.

  How can a man look so happy after shooting a dog and kidnapping a woman?

  Then again, he is a madman.

  He reaches down by his desk, goes straight to the bug I put there, and rips it off, dropping it to the ground before he stomps on it.

  “Boss?” the man left with me asks, his facial expression neutral and not at all concerned over my tied-up state.

  “I’ve made enough of an appearance out there; will have some nice witnesses if needs be.”

  The man nods, waiting at attention for who knows what.

  “Check on what’s happening. I want to know the minute they approach.”

  “Yes, boss.” The man hastily exits, shutting the door behind him and locking me in with Hart.

  I’m shaking as he walks toward me, my eyes skipping from him to the smashed bug on the ground.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on the J.P.I. crew ever since one of them moved across the street from me. I make a point of always knowing when someone moves close to my home. I knew all about you before you ever stepped foot in that house, just like I know all about Ms. Asher and what she does.”

  He takes a step closer to me, and any thoughts of wondering what he is talking about leaves my mind. “I know every instance of you stepping foot int
o their office. I was unsure they would recruit you for anything—you’re not trained in such things—but as soon as I left you with my offer of a date, I know you jumped immediately into a car with one of them and drove straight to their office. I let you in here, knowing you would try something. I saw you placing that bug, clear as day.”

  I glance down at the squashed bug, wondering if he found the other one by the sofa, too.

  Are the guys hearing any of this? Are they on their way to help me right this second?

  “I’ll admit, it’s been amusing watching them race around, following false leads and letting themselves run ragged. I gave them a taste when I gave up one of my customers. He was behind on his payment, and I was due to cut him loose, anyway. Having him killed in prison was just as easy as doing it out in the open.”

  My blood runs cold at listening to him speak about murder so casually.

  He finally stands in front of me, and after an unwanted caress of my face, he harshly rips away the tape covering my mouth.

  “I let them into my system here, allowing them to see what I wanted. But I just as easily shut them out. None of them know for sure if you’re here, and just as I suspected, they sent in Gemma to see what she can uncover. Rather bold of them, really. And stupid.”

  My eyes widen at his insinuation. “What have you done to Gemma?”

  “Nothing she hasn’t been begging for. Do you know she has a sister? A drug addict we picked up two years ago. She was so hooked on meth she would have done anything for a fix. In fact, she did do anything.”

  “You’re sick,” I spit out, only to have him grab my face, digging his fingers painfully into my skin.

  “I don’t think I am. In fact, I think some might view me as a hero.”

  I snort, unable to believe his lunacy, which of course is the wrong thing to do.

  “You don’t believe me?” he snarls in anger, throwing me back and making my head hit the wall. “Men have needs, and those needs have to be met. I make that happen. I provide them with women who can satisfy those needs, with little to no impact on the community you know and trust. Without me, those men would search elsewhere to find an outlet for their kinks, and that means women like you would end up being taken and used. That would put a drain on family, friends, police, news stations, and the likes.

  “The women I own aren’t important. They are disposable. They take the place that an otherwise upstanding citizen might be forced into, and they keep the status quo going. You are safe because another woman is in your place, keeping you safe.”

  I blanch at his spewed bullshit. Does he expect me to thank him? Does he expect me to think he’s a savior?

  Then another thought hits me, and I can’t stop myself from asking. I need to know.

  “Why did you mention kids when you came into my work? Do you …? Are there children involved in this?”

  I hold my breath, terrified of what his answer will be.

  “No. Acquiring kids can be messy. Although, the demand is high. Maybe one day …”

  His easy grin makes my blood run cold. How can he speak so calmly about such a disgusting thing?

  “You know, I had plans for you.”

  “Plans?” I snap out, anger boiling my blood.

  “Yes. You would have been the perfect cover for me. I wanted to woo you. I wanted you blinded by love to get what I needed from you. For you to be so far in you couldn’t see a way out. But I waited too long. I spent too much time watching you from afar to make sure there were no unseen cracks that would appear. Instead, you showed me how perfect you would be for my life. I thought I had time, but then that asshole started sniffing around you.”

  I only just bite my tongue on telling him Joey is no asshole, and that, in this scenario, he is definitely the asshole.

  “Now I have to go with plan B,” he says on a sigh, like my inability to do what he wants is such an inconvenience.

  My body shakes as he leans back over me. I have nowhere to go, locked in here with him, and he has enough of a crazy tinge to his gaze that I’m not sure I’m getting out of this office alive.

  How far away are the guys?

  They are coming for me, right?

  “Do you want to know what plan B is?”

  No, I really don’t.

  “Why so quiet?” he hisses, grabbing my arm and wrenching me toward him before swinging me around.

  My vision wavers as dizziness hits me.

  Within seconds, my back is to his front, his arms trapping me against him as he leans down, his mouth close to my ear.

  In the arms of a monster, I tremble, vulnerable and trapped.

  “Are you scared? Perhaps you shouldn’t have played with the big boys if you weren’t ready to step up.” He tightens his arms around me, crushing me against him as he pushes uncomfortably against my ribs.

  I whimper, unable to do much else.

  “My plan B,” he explains, “involves you doing exactly as I ask. That way, your family doesn’t need to get involved.”

  “M-my family?”

  “I own you, whether you like it or not. The only difference is, there must be some amount of trust between us. My other women are in chains, but yours will be invisible.”

  A tremor runs over my whole body. This man is insane. How can he believe he will ever get away with this?

  “You will never own me.”

  He shoves me, and I go flying across the room, hitting the corner of his desk and knocking a lamp off, causing it to smash on the floor.

  He advances, and as I scatter away, some glass digs into my skin

  The buzzer at his door freezes him.

  “What?” he snaps when he opens the door, the loud music from the club hitting us.

  “They’re moving.”

  He nods, his expression shuttered. It’s like his manic crazy act from before never happened.

  “Then so are we. I’ll be gone a month. Is everything in place?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Gemma?”

  “Already shipped out.”

  What does that mean? Is she okay? Shipped out where?

  “I want her so buried in this no one will ever find her. No one,” Hart growls.

  The guard has enough sense to look scared, even if it’s only visible for a moment. “Yes, boss.”

  “You know how to reach me if needed?”

  The man nods.

  Hart then continues his approach toward me.

  I cower on the floor, not sure what he is about to do. When he pulls a knife out, I am ready to pass out in fear.

  My parents always gave me tips on getting myself out of bad situations. I know some decent fight moves, I know how to pick many locks, and I know how to get myself out of the trunk of most cars. I was taught to think ahead and always be prepared.

  There is nothing to prepare you once you are in this type of situation.

  There is no training that can help me when my natural instinct is to uselessly freeze.

  “We have two ways to go about this,” he tells me, crouching in front of me. “You can be a bitch, and I’ll have to sedate you, while also punishing your family members. Or, you can leave this office with me calmly, and no one, yourself included, needs to get hurt.”

  He stares at me for a moment. I suppose the fact that I’m not rushing away from him is answer enough, because he grabs my ankles and cuts through the tie there, and then my hands, cutting away those restraint, too.

  My wrists are red where the tie was placed too tightly over me, but I doubt anyone will notice in the dark atmosphere outside this office.

  “You can’t do this,” I hiss at him, holding my breath when he shoves his face into mine and forces me to fly back against his desk.

  “Whether you like it or not, I own you now.”

  I bite my tongue on telling him that no one owns me.

  “Now move.” He grabs my arm, hauling me to my shaky legs. “And remember, you make one move to draw attention to yourself, your brother will be
dead within the hour. Maybe I’ll let you decide which one you want me to kill first.”

  The threat is enough to keep me trembling, but also keep my mouth shut.

  We walk down the stairs, me stumbling a little, and then we beeline toward a back exit.

  Outside, a jeep is waiting, and while Hart gets himself into the driver’s seat, I am pushed against the passenger side door where one of his men places new zip ties back over my ankles and wrists. Then he lifts me into the seat once he opens the door.

  Without securing me in a seatbelt, Hart takes off.

  I blink away tears as we travel down the dark streets and try to remain calm.

  I can’t let him take me. I can’t let him control me.

  I must fight him.

  My life depends on this.

  Chapter 19

  We are barely driving ten minutes before I can’t take this anymore. The silence is as terrifying as his awful words, and not knowing where we are going, or what is going to happen to me, means I’m thinking of every worst-case scenario possible.

  “How the hell do you think you’re going to get away with kidnapping me?” I ask, my voice shakier and less sure than I would like, but I’m relieved I haven’t frozen up to the point of being unable to speak.

  He glances over at me, smirking under the street lights lighting up the car, causing sinister shadows to cover his face. “You’re going to make a phone call. You are going to tell your friends that you are leaving of your own free will.”

  I snort, unable to believe he even thinks such a thing could work, or that I would even do it in the first place.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because your brother is in town right now, and because I can have him killed within minutes with just one single text. Or perhaps you want me to kill your other brother who lives in New Orleans. I believe he’s a father of two, correct? Or how about we go straight for your heart and take out your mom? She’ll be having morning tea with her neighbor soon. Might make it a twofer.”

  My stomach churns, and I can’t help feeling like my entire body is wrapped up in chains, instead of only my hands and ankles tied.