Caught in the Devil's Snare

by Dani Matthews

  “Name,” I repeat in a tone that warns her this is the last time I’m going to ask, and I press the barrel of the gun harder against her forehead.

  The insolent brat lifts her bound hands and calmly gives me her middle finger.

  She’s just sealed her fate.

  I shift the gun in my hand, and before she can see it coming, I clip her temple with my left fist. She collapses at my feet, unconscious. When I turn back to Emilio and Tobias, I find them both staring at me. “Put her in the car,” I order Tobias.

  He knows not to question my orders, and he nods respectfully before walking to the young woman and picking her up. She’s small in his arms, and he exits the room, leaving me alone with Emilio.

  “Take care of this mess, and get these women out of here before more of them wake up. Put them in a different room until the truck arrives, and make certain no one sees what went down here.”

  He quickly nods, a hint of fear lurking in the depths of his gaze.

  The little blonde has more balls than this guy. He should have never made it into the organization. When I’m certain Emilio will follow my directive, I turn and leave, exiting the building.

  When I approach the SUV, Tobias is patiently standing beside it, and he opens the door. I climb in and look around. Where’s the blonde? I wait until Tobias is seated up front before questioning him.

  “I put her in the trunk.”

  I nod and pull out my phone, checking to see if Carter has finished yet. I need him to make certain Enrique and the vehicle he’d used are taken care of, and then he needs to get rid of Emilio after he’s no longer useful. Well, fuck. Anyone who’d been a part of the trafficking tonight needs to be eliminated, including the drivers. I want none of this falling back into my lap.

  When Carter doesn’t answer his phone, I know he’s in the middle of something important. My calls rarely go ignored. Knowing he’ll call back when he’s finished, I tuck the phone into my pocket and scowl.

  What the hell am I going to do with the bratty blonde? I never make spur of the moment decisions like the one I’d made tonight. Decisions need to be calculated and well-planned, otherwise, it can land you six feet in the ground.

  * * *

  I end the call with Carter, certain that this mess tonight will be thoroughly taken care of and all evidence destroyed. Now I have one last loose end to deal with, and then I can put this debacle behind me.

  As I stare out at the city lights of Manhattan, I scrub a hand over the fake beard I’m still wearing. It’s itching like a bitch, but I haven’t removed the disguise. I can’t, not until I figure out what to do with the blonde.

  As soon as we’d entered the penthouse, Tobias had been instructed to take the still unconscious woman to my office until I decide what her fate will be. I’m sixty percent certain I want to put a bullet in her head, and yet, the other forty percent is urging me to speak with her and find out how much she really knows. Is death the only option, or is there a way to allow her to walk away with her life?

  I step away from the windows that run the entire expanse of the master bedroom’s east-facing wall and begin pacing. I’ve never felt a sense of remorse for anyone’s life. So why her? Why couldn’t I put a bullet in her at the warehouse? This has never happened to me before. I grew up always knowing my place in the world, and that if I didn’t become the predator, I would become the prey.

  I begin to consider the consequences of allowing her to live. That’s what I need to focus on.

  Who knows what she’d witnessed when she was snatched off the streets. If I release her, she could very well go to the police. What if she had seen me kill the three women? Even so, I couldn’t possibly be connected to the crime if there’s no evidence. It’d be her word against mine, and that won’t hold up in any court—especially once lawyers become involved. She also hasn’t seen my identity, so she wouldn’t be able to pin it on Devlin Kade. Though we are in my penthouse, so that might be a bit of a problem. I could have Tobias give her a roofie. That might eliminate her recollections of this evening, but even then, there’s no absolute guarantee.

  I mutter a curse under my breath. This is ridiculous. She’s a stranger, I don’t owe her a damned thing. It’s not my fault she was at the warehouse tonight. This shit going on in my head about letting her live is complete nonsense. I need to end this before someone other than myself begins to think I’m turning weak.

  With that thought in mind, I stride out of the bedroom and make my way to my office. The door is closed, and I yank it open and step inside.

  Tobias is standing beside the blonde’s chair, his arms folded over his massive chest. His eyes meet mine, and they reveal no emotion. The blonde’s back is to me, and I walk to my desk and sink down into the chair, refusing to look at her now that I’m facing her. “Take her for a drive,” I say, the words sounding harsh to my ears.

  Tobias nods, knowing that my decision has been made and that he is to make her disappear permanently. He reaches for the blonde’s arm, and for the first time, my eyes fall upon her since the warehouse.

  Once more, I find myself fascinated with how innocent she looks. Confusion flares in those viridian eyes as she’s physically hauled to her feet. The abrupt movement causes her to stumble into Tobias, and the confusion I’d glimpsed moments earlier disappears. She raises a knee, trying to slam it into Tobias’s groin. He easily deflects the blow, and in turn, grabs a fistful of her hair as he tries to subdue her into submission. The little hellion refuses to give up, and she swings her bound hands at his face.

  “Stop,” I bark out.

  Tobias’s jaw hardens as he looks at me, his eyes waiting for my next command. The distraction I’d caused allows the blonde to strike him in the face. His eyes flash with irritation, and he grabs her by the shoulders and forces her back down into the chair. She struggles, but he holds her in place and looks at me expectantly.

  When the blonde’s eyes connect with mine, they’re blazing with anger. This one is a fighter, and once again, I can’t help but admire her spirit. She’s in a situation that she can’t possibly win, and yet she’s going to give it all she has. It seems a shame to snuff out someone so…full of life. I find that I’d like to weigh my options again in the hope of keeping her spirit intact.

  Damn it.

  “Leave us,” I tell Tobias.

  He gives me a long look, clearly doubting my current mental state. Tobias is loyal to the bone, though he visibly disagrees with my decision, he still accepts it and releases the blonde. As he leaves, closing the door firmly behind him, I watch the blonde.

  She sits stiffly in the chair, her eyes focused on me. She’s smart, I’ll give her that. There’s nothing she can do that will gain her the freedom she so desperately seeks. She’s in an unknown location, and she’s certainly outnumbered. Now that no one is physically harming her, she’s going to concentrate on me instead of foolish antics that will get her nowhere.

  I run a hand over the itchy beard. “Your name.” My expression hardens. “And if I have to ask you one more time, you will not like the consequences.”

  As soon as I’d begun speaking, her eyes had quickly dropped to my lips, and her brows furrow. Her bound hands lift, and she looks down at them with frustration.

  “Just answer the damned question.”

  Her eyes lift back to mine. Those lush lips part as if she’s going to speak, but then she clamps them closed.

  What the hell is wrong with this woman? I rise from the chair, completely out of patience. As I move towards her to do who knows what—I haven’t decided—she lifts her bound hands and begins making odd motions with her fingers, like she’s forming signals of some sort.

  I haven’t a clue what that’s supposed to mean, and I give her a stern look. “I am so damned close to just putting a bullet in your head and forgetting tonight ever happened,” I threaten.

  Her eyes had dropped to my lips the second I’d begun speaking, and her lips part before hatred shines in her gaze. She lift
s her bound hands and gives me the finger.

  I’m done.

  This is taking too much effort on my end trying to get her to utter a word, much less a single syllable. I’d given her a chance to save herself, and she’s determined not to take it. Can’t say I didn’t try. Now there won’t be any regret when Tobias leaves with her.

  As I walk by her to leave the room, she grabs my sweatshirt. I’m not into hitting women—except for the small matter of clipping her on the temple earlier to save her from pushing me too far. But now, I’m damned close to giving into temptation. That is until she begins making gestures with her fingers once more.

  I stand there, completely bewildered until a bad feeling begins to come over me. When her eyes are focused on mine, I ask, “Are you deaf?”

  She shoots me a look of exasperation, her expression visibly saying, “About time, asshole!”

  Her refusal to cooperate begins to make sense, and I reach down and pull my knife from my boot. When she sees what I have in my hand, she tries to launch herself to her feet, but I’m quicker. I grab her bound wrists and hold the knife to the cable tie, my eyes catching hers. “I don’t understand sign language, but I’ll go ahead and release your hands,” I explain.

  She blinks and goes still.

  Her wrists are slim, and she has long, graceful fingers. I’m careful not to nick her smooth, creamy skin as I slice the plastic, freeing her hands. When the deed is done, I abruptly rise to my feet and move back to the desk, setting the knife down before taking a seat. I watch her rub her wrists, her eyes trained intently on me. “I take it you don’t speak?”

  She gives me a withering look.

  I’ll take that as a no. I release a sigh and open a drawer, digging around for a piece of paper. After I find one, I grab the nearest pen and slide them across the desk to her. “Write your name,” I direct.

  She studies me for a long minute until she scoots closer to the desk and reaches for the pen. She writes something before sliding the paper back to me.

  She’d written a single word. Charli. No other questions, no pleas for her freedom. I glance at her, spying the determined tilt of her chin. This one isn’t a beggar. Nor will she ask for mercy. “Do you have family?” I inquire. If she does, that’s going to be a problem.

  She hesitates before shaking her head.

  My eyes narrow with suspicion. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Charli?” It’s an odd name, but it suits her.

  Her eyes bore holes into mine.

  Grown men have tried to stare me down and lost. I hold her gaze for a long, drawn-out moment, and she doesn’t so much as blink. If she’s lying, she’s got a damned good poker face. I glance at her worn clothing and the fine layer of dirt coating her face. “You live on the streets?”

  She gives me a slight nod.

  I lean back in my chair, taking a moment to dwell upon her situation. The difficulties she’s experienced being homeless have likely been great. The streets are harsh and unforgiving, and with her inability to hear, she’s vulnerable out there.

  She leans forward and snags the paper, writing on it before sliding it back to me, her eyes expectant.

  I take the paper and study the question she’d written. Now what?

  Good question. I no longer want to put a bullet in her head, so where does that leave her? I need more time to think, because right now, my mind isn’t giving me any definitive answers. I set aside the paper and make sure she’s focused on my lips. “Tobias will show you the guest room. You’re to stay there until further notice.”

  Before she can protest, I bark out Tobias’s name. Charli snatches the paper and furiously begins to write, but I’m finished with this conversation. It’s obvious she didn’t hear or witness what went down at the warehouse, so the only crime I’ve committed in her eyes is holding a gun to her head and bringing her here. Yet, I hesitate to put her back on the streets where I know she’s likely to end up in a similar predicament. Or worse, because the next person that tries to take her won’t likely find her personality as intriguing as I do.

  Tobias enters the office, and as I walk past him, I tell him to make certain she showers and settles comfortably in the guest room. She’s not to leave the room until I say.

  Three

  Charli

  I wake abruptly, and as my eyes fly open and take in the unfamiliar surroundings, I sit up with alarm. Waking in strange places has become a common occurrence these days, but the sight of the luxurious guest room causes my pulse to jump with apprehension.

  Last night wasn’t a nightmare? It was real?

  Momentary panic engulfs me until I force myself to draw in a deep breath and think back upon everything that’d happened yesterday. I recall leaving the homeless shelter, finding the muffins, and walking blocks on end to put distance between myself and the pimp from the Bronx. At one point, I’d sensed someone following me, and I’d spent the afternoon trying to lose them. I’d thought I’d succeeded, and when the sun began to set, I started looking for a place to spend the night. One minute I’m crossing an alley, and then the next, I’m waking to a gun pointed at me.

  The man’s face flashes in my mind, and I recall his facial features clearly. He’d been wearing a baseball cap with the black brim lowered over his forehead. Dark brows had hovered above brown eyes that had stared at me with a look of detachment, and I shiver from the memory. His nose had been straight, and a beard desperately in need of a trim had hidden his jawline. Still, even with the beard, I’d been able to tell that his facial structure was striking. Without the beard, I bet he’s a very attractive man.

  No, an attractive criminal, I correct myself.

  Upon regaining consciousness after I’d been snatched and drugged, I’d found myself staring up into the bearded man’s face. He was going to kill me. It was in his eyes, and his expression had been so cold. He’d been asking me questions, but I’d figured if I was going to die, I was going to meet it without giving him what he’d wanted.

  As if that wasn’t scary enough, I’d then woken in a chair with a pounding headache, my hands still bound, and a behemoth of a blond giant watching over me. Again, I’d assumed the bearded man was going to kill me, but then once he’d figured out I was deaf, everything had changed. He’d left the room, and the blond giant had taken me—unwillingly—to this guest room of sorts, and had commanded that I shower and then sleep.

  I glance down at the soft, white robe that I’d slipped on last night, and I quickly adjust the neckline where it’d been gaping open. After showering in the swankiest shower I’ve ever seen, I’d washed my clothes in one of the sinks before spreading out the clothing to dry overnight. I’d struggled with the decision to sleep in the robe, because there had been no guarantee I’d be safe throughout the night. But then I’d figured if someone was going to rape or hurt me, they would have done it by now. They’d certainly had plenty of chances.

  So here I am, alone in this guestroom and confused as hell. I take a moment to look around the room, inspecting my surroundings. The blinds across the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, but sunlight still seeps in, brightening the room. The walls are a steel gray, and last night, I’d noted the wide, black panel that rose from the gray headboard of the bed to the top of the ceiling. It had an overhang, and there were two track lights bringing attention to the elegant, warm-colored abstract artwork hanging in the middle of the panel.

  Two, rectangular nightstands are positioned on either side of the bed with modern, black, square-based lamps. Located near the windows that overlook the city below is a gray chair with a studded back to it, plush cushions, and a matching ottoman. The carpet is gray with white designs, and two double doors open and lead to the en suite bathroom. It’s the biggest one I’d ever seen, and it had not one but two sinks, and even a large jacuzzi tub.

  I’m uncomfortable in such a wealthy environment, and I don’t understand how the man who’d looked like a lowlife crook fits into this puzzle. He’d seemed to be the one in charge,
but he’d looked out of place within the luxurious office that I’d woken in.

  A frown mars my face as I shift on the bed, my bare legs sliding across the whitest, silkiest sheets I’ve ever seen or felt. I slide back the velvety black comforter and rise from the bed, clutching the bathrobe to my body as I cross the plush carpet and open the blinds across the windows. The sunlight is bright, and I find myself squinting. Once my eyes adjust, I gaze down at the city below. I’m in a high-rise and at least a hundred floors up.

  I turn from the view and look around the room again. When my eyes skim over the black chest with drawers situated at the foot of the bed, I note that there looks to be clothing folded neatly upon it. They hadn’t been there last night. The thought of someone coming into the room while I’d been sleeping—completely vulnerable—causes my body to stiffen.

  Don’t panic, I warn myself.

  Panicking can quickly become debilitating, and I’ve learned to think before reacting. If the bearded man was going to kill me, he would have already. I have no idea why he’d wanted to in the first place, but I’m assuming it had to do with why I’d been taken from the streets, and of course, whatever went on in that seedy warehouse. At the time, my entire focus had been on the man with the gun, so I hadn’t had a chance to scan my surroundings. If he assumes I’d witnessed something, what will he do with me now? None of this is adding up. By all accounts, I should be dead.

  Desperate for something to focus on, I move to the chest at the end of the bed and pick up the delicate fabric on top of the pile. It’s a short-sleeved woman’s shirt in a soft bluish-green. The price tag is still attached, and my mouth just about drops. One hundred and fifty-nine dollars! The idea of spending that much on a shirt is ludicrous to me. I set the shirt down and pick up the white, slim-leg ankle pants. This time, when I glance at the tag, I’m not surprised to find that the pants are more expensive than the shirt. Upon reaching for the pants, a pair of delicate white sandals had been revealed. A narrow, white box is beneath the sandals, and I’m not curious enough to open it. Everything is my size, and I quickly set aside the clothing as if they’d burned me.