I knew we had captors because I’d heard several men’s voices while I was in and out of consciousness. We also had water and crackers delivered a few times a day as well.
I was aware there were others being held here. I’d heard crying and voices, and some of the voices sounded young. I was disgusted. One of the reasons Papa had been killed was he refused to have any part in trafficking and prostitution. Trafficking drugs he was fine with, people, not so much.
“Lex, I’m really scared,” Paisley whispered.
“I know, honey. I am too.”
“How are you so calm?” she accused.
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m just trying to think one or two steps ahead of whoever took us, but I can’t do that if I allow myself to freak out.”
“Do you mind if I do?”
“Have at it, honey, just do it really quietly.”
Before Paisley could respond, gunfire sounded, then yelling and screaming (not from us, which shocked the hell out of me), so I pulled her down and covered her with my body.
“What the hell?” Paisley let out a frustrated grunt and pushed me off. “Why would you do that?” she snapped.
“Sorry. Instinct.”
“Well, don’t be an idiot, Lex.”
The door of our prison slammed open and a large man filled the doorway. “Two in here!” he yelled into the hallway.
Paisley and I jumped in fright, huddling closer together. The thought of being taken to yet another location did not sit well with me, especially with Paisley needing medical attention.
“What do you want?” I demanded, my false bravado on hyper-drive.
The man approached us and I couldn’t help myself from sliding slightly in front of Paisley. This earned me a painful flick to the ear. I ignored it.
“I’m here to help,” he said. “I’m Agent Cameron Shane. We’re getting you out of here.”
“We?” Paisley asked.
He hunkered down in front of us and pulled out a handcuff key. “The FBI.”
I gasped and shook my head. “No. Leave us alone!”
Cameron frowned. “Ma’am, you’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”
“I don’t think he’s one of them, Lex,” Paisley said.
“I’m not taking any chances,” I hissed.
Cameron held his hand out and Paisley settled hers in it. He unlocked her handcuff and she grabbed for her broken arm, cradling it to her chest.
He turned to me and I tentatively reached my arm out. He uncuffed me and I wrapped my arm around my best friend.
* * *
The slam of a cell door brought me back to the present.
After we had been rescued, Paisley got to go home, but I was now being hidden in a Catholic abbey in Oregon, along with several other young women who’d been held in the flop house. I also had a “handler.” Agent Cameron Shane. Tall, dark, and drop-dead gorgeous, the FBI agent was all alpha all the time, über professional, and just the right amounts of Boy Scout and altar boy. He also lived in Portland and I adored him. I’d had to give up my law career... at least for the moment, and I had no idea when I’d be able to get back to it.
I dropped my head back against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut. My mother had limited contact with me (we were still separated and could only communicate on approved days and using burner phones). She’d called me on a non-approved day, frantic because she couldn’t reach my brother, and like an idiot, I sneaked out of the convent and to one of his favorite places to “disappear,” and right into a drug deal. A drug deal that was broken up by the local police.
Sergei and I had been taken away in separate police cars and I was pretty sure I’d never see my brother again.
A police woman approached me and gave me a smile. “You’re free to go,” she said, and unlocked my handcuffs.
“Really? I thought I had to get booked.”
“You have a friend in the FBI, apparently. So, you get to miss the entertainment of central booking,” she said. “Someone’s waiting to take you back to the convent. He’s out front.”
I followed the police officer out to the front, expecting to see Cameron, and my breath left my body.
“No,” I ground out. “Absolutely not.”
Reese Alden, the man who shattered me almost eight years ago, stood glaring at me. I almost turned around to demand the officer take me back to a cell.
I turned to head to the desk to find someone else to help me.
“Nice try,” Reese growled, and grabbed my arm.
My head swam with questions. What was Reese doing here? Where had he been for the past eight years? How did he know I was in jail? How did he know I was at the convent... no one was supposed to know that. Did he miss me? Ohmigod, I shouldn’t care if he missed me. He’d ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it with this unbelievably sexy motorcycle boots.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
“Um, no, no I’m not.” I tried to rip my arm from his hold, but to no avail. He kept me immobile without hurting me as he gently dragged me toward a side door. “Reese,” I hissed. “Stop.”
“Quit bein’ ornery.”
“Ohmigod, you cannot speak to me that way!”
“We’ll talk in the truck.”
Arriving at his truck, he virtually threw me into the cab before jogging to the driver’s side and closing himself in with me. I debated escaping while we had distance, but in the end, I knew he’d just catch me if I ran, so I secured my seatbelt and stared out the window.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking out of the convent, Lex?” he bellowed.
“How the hell do you know I sneaked out?” I countered, and then raised my hand. “No, never mind, this is none of your business. I don’t want to know.”
“Everything you do is my business... don’t ever doubt it.”
“It most certainly is not, you male chauvinist, lying, piece of—”
“You gonna answer my question?”
“Nope.” I crossed my arms with a huff.
He swore and headed out of the parking lot.
“Where’s Cameron?” I asked after a few minutes of awkward silence. “He’s my handler. How did you even get here?”
“Cam’s not available.”
“Why isn’t he available?”
“I’ll explain when we get you safe,” Reese said.
“What do you mean everything I do is your business?” I asked, once my heart calmed down a little. “I stopped being your business seven years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days ago.”
“But who’s counting?” Reese retorted.
I pressed my lips together to keep from screaming like a banshee and looked out the window again. I didn’t remember him irritating me like that. Ever.
We continued to drive, but it didn’t take me long to figure out we weren’t heading toward the Convent. “Reese?”
“Yeah, Freckles?” he said, all sweet and crap. Reese Alden wasn’t sweet. Even when he was, he wasn’t.
“No!” I snapped. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“No?”
“No.” I frowned. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Too bad,” he said. “It’s past time, Lex.”
“Ohmigod, you don’t get to make blanket decisions for me! I didn’t like it when we were teenagers and I don’t like it now.”
“Frec—”
“No. You’re not hearing me. I mean it, Reese. You don’t get to do that. Take me back to the convent.”
“You’re not even gonna hear me out?” he asked, his tone incredulous.
“I haven’t heard from you for eight years, after you took my virginity and my self-respect, so no, I’m not going to hear you out.”
Reese scowled and flipped a U-turn, heading back to the convent. We sat in stony silence the rest of the way, and when we arrived at the private entrance at the back, I slid out of the c
ab without comment and rushed inside.
He followed.
I scowled. “Stop following me.”
“Wanna make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m safe. You can go.”
He gave me his signature sexy grin and closed the door behind us. “Gonna make extra sure.”
“I’m going to my room.”
“I’ll walk you.”
Before I could protest, or, you know, kick him in the shins and run, our Reverend Mother came rushing toward me. “Sister Maria,” she admonished. “You know men aren’t allowed in the Abbey.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at Reese. “I know, but he won’t leave.”
“Reese, you must go,” she ordered.
“You know him?” I squeaked.
“Yes, dear. My niece is married to Reese’s friend, Ryder.”
“Sadie’s married to Ryder Carsen?”
Now it was Reese’s turn to cross his arms. “Yep.”
I’d met Sadie a few times when I’d come to “hide” here, but never had there been any indication that her man was the same Ryder attached to Reese. I suppose I could have asked, but honestly, what were the odds?
Everything was starting to come into focus. Horror movie, Jason’s at the glass slider, kind of focus. “You set this up,” I whispered. “You sonofa—”
The Reverend Mother glanced at me sternly and I stopped myself.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you’re behind this somehow,” I accused.
“Indirectly,” he said.
“Have you known I was here”—I pointed to the floor, indicating the abbey—“all this time?”
“Yeah.”
Okay, this pissed me off. Irrational, maybe, but he’d known I was here, then blindsided me at the jail... no. “Reverend Mother, would you please make sure I never see this man again?”
“I... ah... I’m not sure I can do that, dear. Reese is taking over Cameron’s duties.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“I’m your new handler,” he said, a smug look on his face. “I’ll be checking on you from now until the trial.”
“No. I don’t accept. I’ll go home before I’m subjected to having to see you every day.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Lex.”
I fisted my hands at my sides. “Find someone else, Reese. I’m serious.”
“Not gonna happen.”
I tore the veil off my head and rubbed my temples. “Then I’m done. I won’t testify. I’ll go home and take my chances—”
“Are you high?” Reese bellowed, making Mother jump. “You and I are gonna have a conversation, Lex, and you give me any grief, I’ll take you somewhere no one’ll find you.”
“You will not threaten her that way,” Mother snapped.
“He’d never hurt me,” I rushed to say, which might not have been the right thing to say. One: (technically) I didn’t know him anymore, so I could be wrong. But for whatever reason, I knew in my heart he’d never hurt me...at least physically. Two: I wanted him to go away, I shouldn’t be defending him.
“I’d rather cut off my arm,” Reese confirmed.
“But”―I pointed out―“after what I’ve been through over the past few months, maybe threatening to kidnap me might be a little melodramatic.”
“You will apologize to Alexa, Reese, or you’ll leave and not come back until you do,” Mother ordered.
Reese rubbed the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths. “I apologize.”
“Look at her when you say it.”
I bit back a smirk and waited. Reese studied me for a few seconds and then shook his head. “I’m sorry if I scared you...,” he gave me a slow smile, “Freckles.”
He just had to throw in ‘Freckles.’ “I don’t accept.”
“Alexa!” Mother admonished. “He’s apologized, you must accept.”
This time, Reese smirked and I studied him for a few seconds. “Fine,” I huffed. “Apology accepted.”
“I’m sorry, Reese, but you cannot be here,” Mother said. “No men in the Abbey. If you’d like to meet in the church, you are welcome to, but not here.”
“Will you give me fifteen minutes, Lex?” Reese asked, his tone pinched but polite.
Would I? I wasn’t sure. I’d missed him. I still missed him. He’d been my first love... he’d been my first everything, and I hadn’t had a serious relationship since. Hell, I hadn’t had a relationship, period. Had he dated... or hooked up with other women? No, I didn’t want to know. Gah, maybe he’d had a hundred. That thought raised a streak of jealousy in me I hadn’t expected. I wasn’t over him. Not that that fact surprised me. Paisley had mentioned it more than once or twice (or a million) times over the last eight years.
“Fifteen minutes,” he repeated.
“Fifteen minutes,” I agreed. “Not a second more.”
* * *
If you liked the sneak peek of Reese, you can purchase HERE:
2017 Piper Davenport & Harley Stone
Copyright © 2017 by Trixie Publishing, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States
Despite their economic and social differences, Addison Allen and Dylan James have been inseparable since sixth grade. But when Dylan is arrested for the murder of her ex-boss, prison bars threaten to be the one thing that finally comes between them.
The body left on Dylan’s doorstep proves to be too problematic for even Addison’s enormous bank account, forcing the duo to roll up their sleeves and search for the murderer themselves. Working to prove Dylan’s innocence brings out an unexpected passion for investigating a knack for uncovering the buried truth.
However, their freshly-acquired skills propel them into a dangerous new world full of lies, secrets, and quite possibly... romance.
Will they be able to keep Dylan out of jail?
Or will they lose their hearts, and maybe even their lives, in the process?
Addison
FRIDAY MORNING, I was awakened by the phone buzzing on my nightstand. I rolled over with a groan and checked the caller ID. Dylan. “Um, hello, no calls before eleven on Fridays. You better be in a ditch with a broken leg somewhere.”
My best friend groaned into the phone. “I just got fired.”
I sat up. “What the hell? Why?”
Dylan Linn James has been my best friend since she transferred into my exclusive private school in the sixth grade. She’d been given a special scholarship due to her family’s financial situation and the shrew girls (we’d named them that because they were way worse than mean girls) clocked her the second she walked through the doors.
Dylan was gorgeous. G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S. As in, soft, curly red hair, a smattering of freckles over her nose that was cute as hell (as my brother said all too many times), hazel eyes, and, when she hit her teens, she developed a curvy figure which was all too often noticed by the wrong people.
As if beauty wasn’t enough, Dylan had a quick wit and an even quicker mouth. Plus, her name was cool as hell. Although she rarely stood up for herself, she fought for everyone else: me, the janitor being harassed by the shrew girls, random dogs locked in hot cars on sunny days, bugs about to be squished in the hallway. And while this kept her from belonging to the “in” crowd, it made me love her even more.
And now she was calling me at 9:59 in the morning because her asshat of a boss had fired her. And I’m pretty sure I know why she was let go—because despite his many advances, she wouldn’t sleep with him.
“Why do you think?” she confirmed.
“Come over.”
“I’m already here.”
“Well, then use your key and come in. Why are you not already inside?”
“Because I didn’t know if you had your gun in its safe, or next to you, and I didn’t want to be fired and dead!”
I giggled. “Gun is in its safe. Come on in.”
I slid out of bed and wrapped my silk Armani robe around me. I could walk around
half-naked in front of Dylan, but she’d already been traumatized enough for one day.
I hustled into the living room and pulled her in for a hug. “He’s a dick.”
“I know,” she said, her stoic nature working overtime.
“You can cry you know.”
“I’m not going to cry over that asshole!” she snapped. “I might drink bleach later, a nice 2015 Clorox, but I won’t cry!”
“Okay, lady.” I forced myself not to laugh as I raised my hands in surrender. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” she breathed out. “Coffee. STAT.”
“You should have been a nurse,” I mused as I grabbed containers for my Keurig.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you have the lingo down.”
“Shut it.” Dylan gave me her “I will stab you in your sleep” eyes, and I smiled.
“Nurse Dylan. I wonder if you’d be anything like Nurse Jackie. Let me see your eyes. Are your pupils pinned?”
I heard a quiet snort and turned to see her biting back a smile.
“I totally beat your record!”
We’d had an unwritten contest for as long as I could remember that whenever one of us was having a bad day, the other one had to get her to laugh. Dylan could usually get me giggling within minutes; however, I just beat her best time, so I did a happy dance around my kitchen while I’m sure she plotted my murder in her mind.
“Let’s go out tonight,” I suggested, handing her a cup of coffee.
“Um, hello. No job, no money.”
“I’m paying.” I smiled. “Or Daddy is.”
My father was, how do you say... absent? So when my parents separated, he gave Asher and me credit cards to use whenever we wanted. Even after my parents reconciled (for appearances only, let’s be honest), Daddy insisted we keep the cards “for emergencies.”
Asher never touched his; as a highly skilled attorney, he didn’t need to. Me? I hadn’t quite found myself. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I did nothing, but planning fundraisers and events for Mother and Daddy isn’t what I ultimately wanted to do with my life. I was good at it, but it wasn’t my bliss. Of course, using Daddy’s money whenever I wanted to did bring a certain measure of joy, and since I did the work for less than most meeting planners would charge, I let my father assuage his absent-parent guilt when I needed cash for retail therapy... or bar hopping.
Ryder (Sinners and Saints, #1) Page 25