Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3

by Rey, Rosemary

  “What is this?” I asked terrified.

  “It’s a safe room,” he responded, holding me close.

  “Are we trapped in here?” I asked. “Can they get in? How do we get out?” I asked in a rush.

  “Relax. It was built to keep us safe while anyone who is trying to do us harm gets apprehended. They can’t get in. It’s virtually indestructible,” he pronounced.

  “Virtually? How much is ‘virtually’?” I asked. He laughed. I found nothing funny about what we’d just gone through.

  “We’ll stay in here until my security collects those assholes. The button you pressed alerted them to my distress. This room will keep us safe until they’re captured. My security should have this place surrounded within a few minutes of you pressing the button. The sealing of this door also sets off an alarm for them to know I’m in here. They will get to us as soon as possible. Apprehending them or ensuring they are out of this house is the first priority.” He quietly informed. I took my first deep cleansing breath. Suddenly, I felt light headed. I was annoyed by this constant faint feeling.

  I pulled away from him and reclined against the wall, sliding down to the floor. “Are you okay?” He asked.

  “Is there air circulating through here?” I asked tentatively.

  “Yes. I’ll get you water.” He opened up a door behind me. I couldn’t see what was inside.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Um, it’s a small supply closet. Water, first aid kit, defibrillator, food, towels, and some clothing,” he rattled off.

  “Do you intend to move in here?” I asked. He laughed raucously.

  “It’s also a hurricane shelter. This is supposed to keep me safe during an intense storm. There is one in each side of the house. This is the biggest one. There is also a small bathroom in here with a shower. It’s designed much like a small cruise ship bedroom.” He informed.

  I’d never been in a cruise ship, and decided in the moment I didn’t care to experience such a small space in the middle of the ocean. He kept talking, possibly to soothe me when in reality I needed quiet. I had to sort the events of the day. I put my head in between my legs to soothe my nerves and regulate my breathing. Grief counseling taught me the technique after losing my mother.

  “I need to throw up,” I warned. He pulled me up and took me to the lavatory. I wretched and heaved the limited contents in my stomach. I sank to the floor, wiping my mouth. After handing me water, Brady stroked my shoulders. I wanted to resist, but I needed the comfort even from the wrong person.

  Who I needed was Matt. I needed my husband, and the realization he wasn’t technically my husband made me mourn his absence all the more.

  “Do you feel better?” He asked hopeful. I nodded.

  “I need to get out of here. I’ve been stuck inside fortified tin all day with insane people holding me against my will,” I rambled. I felt him recoil, removing his hands from my back.

  “My head of security will get us out when all is safe, okay? I need you to relax,” he said, kissing my forehead. I noticed he took a whiff of my hair. He’d done it before when he’d given me a goodbye hug after the dinner with all of the Pentagon men. Brady stood up and pulled me up to standing. He walked me to a wall, pulling down a horizontal cot with one arm while holding me close to his body with the other. He sat me down gently in the middle of the cot.

  I sat in a catatonic state, avoiding any thoughts of my stressful experience. Brady pulled a t-shirt over my head. Instinctively, I put my arms through each sleeve.

  “Thank you,” I said without emotion, suffering from a shock I hadn’t experienced in over a decade. He knelt on bended knee before me.

  “Are you okay?” He looked at me with his piercing greenish, hazel eyes. I nodded, glancing away from his stare. They had locked me in, and I couldn’t allow him to think there was more than an innocent ogle. My eyes lingered at his shoulders. A dark spot on his shoulder made me retrace it’s origin down the sleeve of his white shirt and I saw a large stain on his bicep.

  “You’re shot,” I gasped. I stood up, touching his arm. His shirt was torn where the bullet entered. Blood collected on the bunched up fabric of his dress shirt.

  “No. I’m not.” He touched. Without delay, I unbuttoned his shirt, noting the tattoos which peppered his chest when I went to pull his shirt over his shoulders, he stood up and turned away. Under the dim lights of the room, I could see the tattoos on his arms and chest. His body was so different than Matt’s. He was muscular, but not as tall. Brady’s skin color was creamier compared to Matt’s tan skin. His skin looked smooth as silk because it was devoid of body hair.

  “Let me see.” I asked.

  “No. You’ll get sick. I think it’s just a graze, but I’m starting to feel a burn.”

  “Sit!”

  He looked tentatively at the bunk bed and sat. I went to the closet and found the first aid kit. I washed my hands and sorted through the contents. I assessed the cut, which had started clotting. It looked deep, but there was no trace of the bullet. Part of his tattoo had been severed from the rest of the design. Stitches would be in order, but wrapping him was the first step. I retrieved a clean wash cloth and washed around the wound. I took a roll of gauze and gently wrapped his arm, ensuring to assemble the fatty tissue and flesh to its normal setting. I stopped each time he winced to ensure it wasn’t too tight.

  “Thanks,” he said when I finished taping up the gauze. I cleaned up. As I washed my hands, I heard him speak. I looked over to him, “I got you into an awful mess, didn’t I?” He said.

  “Yeah, you fucked the craziest bitch in Boston.”

  “Since when do you have a foul mouth?”

  “Since you left for college,” I retorted, drying my hands.

  Brady looked sullen, as if I had reminded him of a guilt he bared.

  “How much longer, do you think?” I asked, wanting out of the tight quarters. I didn’t even like being in a small space with Matt for too long, unless we were making love. The closeness of Brady in the tiny space was unnerving.

  “I don’t know. We’ve run a couple of drills a year for many years, so they’d know what to do. This is the first time an actual event has taken place. I don’t want to risk leaving the room and encountering them,” He said. I nodded.

  “Can you call someone?”

  “No,” he informed. There’s a phone in here, but they’ve instructed me not to call. They’ll call me to ensure we’re safe as soon as they’re able. I know this is a novel event for you, but I assure you, I have the best technology, resources, and trained security. I’ve even funded the local law enforcement to keep this community safe. We’ll be okay,” the sincerity in his voice and the assurances in his eyes made me relax. “Come sit,” he encouraged, patting the mattress.

  I grabbed a water bottle for him, handing it over. I sat at a safe distance. For all we’d gone through we still had a lot to resolve. I needed to tell him where I stood on the matter. It was hard to formulate the words when there were competing emotions. In his care and protection of me, I saw the seventeen-year-old boy transformed into a man right before my very eyes. I saw Shay.

  My desperate desire to escape this hatch and return to Matt kept me on high alert. “What time is it?” I asked. I lost track of time because I never carried a watch. My cellphone was my life line to time and commitments.

  “It’s a little after six,” he stated, looking down at the large, metallic watch; no doubt a brand I’d never heard of before.

  I yawned.

  “You must be tired. Here lie down,” he offered, standing. My body ached all over, and after the ordeal I’d been through, I was certainly fatigued. Experiencing a large crash from the adrenalin surge I’d experienced all day, I crawled onto the twin sized cot. As I faced the wall, I felt a soft blanket placed over me. Within minutes of hearing his stirring and shuffle, I drifted off to sleep.

  *****

  Brady stirred me awake. Light was streaming from the entrance and h
e helped me up from the cot. “What time is it?” I asked once more,

  “It’s ten,” he said, leading me to the bedroom.

  “What’s going on?” I asked when I saw the team of people in the bedroom. A few men in black clothing and tactical gear were whispering in divided groups about his room. Another set of men, wearing police uniforms, filed into the room.

  “They’ve captured everyone and they were taken to jail. I’m having a security detail from the U.S. flown in to take them back to Boston. We’ll have them charged there. These guys have taken statements of my men and myself. I asked them to let you rest for the night before asking you questions.”

  Not feeling up to it, I nodded.

  He continued, “I asked one of my maids to come back, and she made you dinner. We have it in the dining room ready when you are.”

  My stomach rumbled at the mention of food.

  “Please, I haven’t eaten since this morning when they took me.” He led me to the dining room with his hand at the small of my back. My heart ached thinking of Matt and the same way he would walk with me. I missed him.

  “I need to call, Matt,” I stated. Brady pursed his lips. While he didn’t frown, I could tell by his lackluster eyes that he was less than enthused by the mention of Matt.

  “Eat first,” he ordered. A feast was laid out on the table. It was all the foods my mother used to make. I served a little bit of everything on a plate and sat to eat.

  “Aren’t you eating?” I asked.

  “I have a few things to do first. I’ll be back. Please eat,” he finished with a soft smile. I dug in, tasting the flavors which brought the most comforting memories. My mother’s home cooking was one of the reasons I couldn’t keep my weight down for ballet. I realized later in life that I was stuffing myself full of her wonderful food for fear of one day missing it; missing her.

  A young, pretty woman entered the room and asked in Spanish if all was well. I nodded, not stopping my chewing. I forced myself to stop when I was close to the point of overindulgence. She stood there all along watching me eat.

  “Are you his Perla?” She asked.

  “What?” I asked startled.

  “His Perla,” she motioned toward the direction Brady exited. “You’re the little girl in the pictures in his room. He’s talked about you to Margarita and she’s told us the stories because we dared not speak to him so personally. You have the same eyes and fuzzy hair,” she stated without filter. I laughed, nodding in agreement. “But you’re smile is different,” she stated. I looked at her quizzically. “You’re more mature, more experienced; like you’ve gone through many struggles, so your smile is no longer of a little girl,” she observed. “Are you two finally together?”

  “I’m a family friend.”

  “Stories say he built this for you. He has always wanted to make this a family home. Margarita has tried to set him up with one of the many beautiful girls from the area, but he has never brought or stayed with another woman here. You are the first. In fact no one has ever been here before,” she reported. “I thought finally this was the commitment he has been waiting for.”

  My heart sunk and my stomach roiled. I pushed the plate away, sickened by the thoughts of his dedication to me; an emotion I couldn’t return.

  “Unfortunately, I’m married to someone else. I was brought here without my consent. He saved me from them,” I revealed.

  “We heard. They caused such a stir. Usually the only raucous is an impending hurricane or tropical storm. Margarita was found locked in a room. When she was released, a couple of guards took her to a friend’s house because she was so shaken up,” she revealed.

  “Was she harmed?”

  “No, just frightened.”

  A sigh of relief involuntarily left me. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Is there a phone I could use?”

  “Oh, I think Don Shay would be able to help you with that. I just help with cooking and cleaning. Nice meeting you, Doña Perla,” she said. I nodded with a smile. Her use of ‘Lady’ made me feel like a fraud. It was a title I didn’t deserve. I was not the owner of the home, and I wasn’t Shay’s woman. I refrained from correcting her, and watched her walk away.

  Looking around the beautiful dining room, which overlooked the sea, I thought of Matt and his home up north. I rejected the idea of living in such affluence, but the moment I set foot in this home, I could imagine myself living inside the opulent mansion, nurtured by the untold memories of my mother. Brady had created a haven for us and I had no idea of his true intentions. While I was desperate to know why, I was afraid the truth would be worse than being in complete ignorance. The moon illuminated the sea, and I imagined myself laying on the beach and frolicking in the water.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Brady interrupted, and I jumped at his booming voice.

  “It is. I’d like to call Matt,” I announced without hesitation.

  “I’d like to talk to you about that,” he answered. My brow furrowed and my frown was surely visible.

  “Brady, I need to tell him I’m okay. I haven’t spoken to him since this morning. Surely, he’s worried sick about me. I’m worried about him. He needs to know I’m safe . . . and that I’m here with you.”

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he extended the same hand which protected me in the past and just hours before. Without taking his hand, I followed him. We took a long winding staircase down to the lower level. “I’ll give you a tour tomorrow.”

  “I want to go home as soon as possible, which is why I want to talk to Matt,” I whined. He didn’t respond and a grim feeling washed over me.

  THREE

  The downstairs contained a lounging and gaming area with a couple of pool tables and a few poker tables. A bar at the end of the room with modern looking stools highlighted the wall of alcohol. It was surprising to see so much furniture and drinks considering the maid’s revelation he hadn’t brought anyone else here. There were many strategically placed sofas and arm chairs for relaxed conversation around glass coffee tables. It all looked pristine, as if they were installed recently.

  I followed him through the French doors to a paved walkway, leading to the beach. We walked past the long pool. The entire space was lit brightly in contrast to the darkened beach. I was slightly frightened when he kept walking toward the dark shore, but as we walked forward bright lights at our feet turned on, lightly lighting our path.

  With the right person, this would have been the most romantic setting.

  “I know you won’t be happy with this, but you’ll have to stay to talk to police and investigators about what happened since the crime took place here. I told them they can come back tomorrow when you’ve had some rest,” he informed. He motioned to the beach chair set back from the rising tide. I watched him sit on the other chair. I sat to take in the cool night breeze looking out at the vast darkness of the horizon.

  “I would prefer to talk to them now and return home to Matt in the morning,” I reiterated becoming agitated.

  “It’s late. My pilots are off duty.”

  “Then I’ll go to the nearest airport and catch a flight back to at least Florida. I want out of here,” I cried.

  “Is this place so bad?” He asked gently. He looked forlorn.

  “No. This place is beautiful. You’ve done a great job with creating paradise, but I don’t belong here.” I hoped he could respect the finality of my words.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed severely, and his eyes showed disappointment. It wasn’t my intention to hurt his feelings, especially after he’d saved our lives.

  “How long did it take you to fall in love with Matt?” Brady asked sincerely. I was surprised by the question, grimacing at the intrusive inquiry. “You two had a whirlwind courtship. I’d like to know how long it took for you to fall in love with him?” He asked again. The expectation in his eyes was heartrending. I shook my head, battling within myself of how to respond.
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  “A few days.” I admitted.

  “Give me that long to help you fall in love with me.” Brady said. His eyes pierced mine as I stopped breathing.

  I turned away, shaking my head despite the quiver I felt with his offer. I couldn’t believe my heart was entertaining the idea of remaining on the peninsula with a man I once thought was my enemy. Although we were childhood friends, I didn’t know him. Because of his threats to my relationship with Matt, I certainly didn’t trust him despite him saving me from the ordeal we endured.

  “Why? Why can’t you move onto someone else who can love you in return?”

  “I want the opportunity to show you what true love really is. The love you found with Matt was clouded with lust.”

  When I heard the word ‘lust’, I couldn’t disagree. We were constantly having sex or stimulating each other for gratification. While we had married a couple of days before, I still didn’t know Matt, but it didn’t mean our love was somehow artificial.

  “What I have with Matt is real. We have a strong, deep love which won’t change.”

  “Matt kept you so intoxicated with orgasms you couldn’t see how distant he really is,” he argued.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “It’s what he does. He finds a woman he wants and has constant sex. Gives them everything he thinks they want, but keeps the one thing she wishes he would give” he revealed.

  My eyes cut at him, and I shook my head.

  “He doesn’t give all of himself to a woman. Once he’s had her, he’ll pull away. It’s what he did to his wife.”

  I couldn’t hear anymore, sifting through my memory banks for something to counter his argument. I didn’t have enough information to dispute his claim. Stella’s revelation of Matt’s inexperience with love came to the forefront of my mind.

  “I can make you fall in love with me without even touching you.”

  Heat rushed to my face and I was oddly titillated. “I want a chance to prove you and I are meant to be together. I’ve worked so hard to build a life for us to live together. Once I was sure I could get you close, he took you from me.”