Collateral Damage: A Tethered Novel

by Wayne, Jessica

  “You know how to reach me.”

  Malcolm grinned. “Yes I suppose I do, don’t I? Good day, Timothy.”

  He walked away towards the front, and after tossing money on the table, Timothy did the same.

  “You good boss?” Ashton asked as they pulled away from the curb.

  “Yes, would be better if my hand would stop bleeding. I think that woman nicked a vein.”

  “Need to go see someone?”

  “No, I’ve had worse,” he commented and stared out the window as the scenery raced by.

  He wasn’t an idiot, he knew she’d cut him on purpose. So now they knew he wasn’t immortal like they’d hoped. But what did that mean now? Would they stop watching his office? Was he free to let Paislee go?

  Sure, Malcolm wouldn’t leave her alone. But Timothy could get her a one-way ticket out of the country and then perhaps they could both live out their lives separately.

  The thought should have thrilled him, he should have been ecstatic over the opportunity to return to some sort of normalcy, and still the thought of her being gone from his life forever, nearly made him sick.

  They pulled up in front of his building, and Timothy made his way up to his office. The elevator doors opened, and Paislee glanced up from the book she was reading when she saw the blood covered napkin in his hand, her eyes widened, and she rushed to him.

  “What happened? Are you alright?” She reached for him, but he moved out of the way.

  “I’m fine. It was nothing but a test. One that I apparently passed.”

  “They were checking to see if you’d heal.”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me guess, Lindsay do that to you?”

  “How’d you know?”

  Paislee turned and lifted her shirt to reveal scars that matched the one on the side of her face. “She likes her nails long,” she commented when she turned back around.

  He was nearly vibrating with anger at the sight of the injuries that must have caused Paislee a hell of a lot of pain at one point.

  “So, obviously you didn’t heal, what do you think his next move is going to be?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Want me to heal it for you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I like my hand the way it is.”

  “Bloody?”

  “Attached.”

  “Oh please, I healed you in that alley.”

  “Something you admitted you weren’t sure you could do.”

  “Timothy let me-”

  She reached for him, and he jerked back. “Paislee, I said no.” The words came out harsher then he’d meant, and she flinched.

  “What the hell is your problem?”

  “You,” he growled, his breathing ragged. He could still picture her touching Jake’s shoulder only hours after they’d kissed.

  “You treat me like an employee, keep me at a distance, then you kiss me senseless for nothing other than your own sick pleasure, and now you won’t even let me heal you? Am I really so bad?” Her bottom lip quivered, but his pride wouldn’t let him give in.

  “You’re childish.”

  Paislee stared after him, anger rooting deep down inside of her. “I’m childish.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Then why are you helping me? If I’m so fucking childish that you can’t stand me?”

  He thought about it for a moment and then looked her in the eye. “Because if I don’t, you are going to die. I’ve done a lot of questionable things in my life Paislee, I have no interest in adding to the list.”

  “Fuck you, Timothy McGinley.” Paislee headed for the elevator. She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she frantically pressed the button.

  “It’s not coming,” he called.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I told you, you need to stay safe.”

  “You are no better than he was!” she screamed, and he got to his feet.

  “How do you figure that?” His voice held a dangerous edge, but Paislee was too angry to notice.

  “You keep me locked in this fucking room forcing me to study magic. The only difference between the two of you is your tactics. He forced me with fear, and you make me feel like you actually gave a shit about me.”

  Timothy continued towards her until he was inches from her face. He placed a palm on the door and leaned closer until his body was nearly right up against hers. “You would do good to remember I am helping you witch. Without me, you would be dead right now whether from Malcolm or a general misuse of your magic.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, as you know I’ve been around a long time. I’ve known a lot of people just like you. Naïve, childish, unable to determine exactly what it is they want out of life.”

  “You’re a fucking coward,” she muttered.

  His jaw tightened, and Paislee had the sneaking suspicion that this man’s bad side was not a place she wanted to be. But she refused to be bullied into submission, she had spent too many years behind the bars of a cage.

  “You want to go?” he growled. “Then get the hell out of my sight.” He typed in a code by the elevator, and the doors opened. “But don’t even think about coming back here when he finds you. You walk out that door, and I’m done with you.” Timothy turned away, and Paislee stepped into the elevator.

  A part of her wanted to stay, she wanted to learn more about the enigma of a man she had saved in that alley, but her wounded pride wouldn’t let her.

  “I’ll be back for my cat.” He didn’t respond, and she watched his back as the doors closed.

  Timothy lifted the phone from his desk and dialed Ashton’s number. “Let her out,” he said angrily and threw the phone at the wall. She wanted to die? Then who the hell was he to stand in her way? She’d cool off and be back in a few hours, he told

  himself. Then she would come crawling back.

  He looked around his space that was now covered with her. Before, everything had a certain spot. Every single thing in his office had been organized to a fault.

  Now though, her clothes were scattered everywhere. Blankets were tossed on various chairs or areas of the floor where she had simply decided she wanted to relax for a while. The air in his office carried her scent and without her here, although he hated to admit it, his space seemed empty.

  She had come into his quietly organized life and disheveled it. Making a mess of things in both his head and his space.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled and ran his hands through his hair. He was an idiot.

  “Fuck!” he yelled again as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the elevator.

  He jogged out onto the street and saw her about a half mile away from him on the busy sidewalk.

  “Paislee!” he called, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t hear him. Fear gripped his heart when he saw the dark SUV pulling up alongside her. “Paislee!” he called louder, and she turned briefly to see him. He pushed into a sprint just as the doors opened and two men hauled her into the vehicle.

  “Paislee!” he yelled again and continued running even after the SUV had sped away.

  He had been an ass hole, and now Paislee was gone.

  Chapter 11

  The bag was ripped off Paislee’s head, and she squinted at the sudden assault of light. She didn’t know why they’d put it on her, it wasn’t like she didn’t know where they were taking her.

  The location of her prison was forever ingrained in her memory from the night she’d finally escaped.

  Her cheeks were stiff from tears that had dried on them, and she could feel the swelling in her eyes. She’d been crying when they’d grabbed her, and the fear of where they were taking her had caused her to revert back to the frightened child being ripped away from her brother. But no more, she was done crying for these people.

  “Paislee, my dear! It’s been a long time.” Lindsay was the first to greet her, and she rushed forward. The
blood from Timothy’s hand still on her long fingers.

  “Not long enough,” Paislee growled.

  “Still have a smart mouth I see.” Lindsay grinned. “We can work that out of you.”

  “You know it’s a sad thing, to raise a child.” Malcolm’s voice chilled her to her core. She watched as he moved further into the room and knelt in front of her chair. “You give them a roof over their head, food in their stomachs, books to read, knowledge to consume, and then they leave you.”

  “Raise me? You think what you did was raise me? You kept me locked away as your prisoner! My family, my mom, dad, and brother are the ones who raised me. You were nothing but my nightmare.”

  The crack across her face was something she’d come to expect from Lindsay. Malcolm had never put his hands on her, but Lindsay had just loved to inflict the pain.

  “Watch your tone.” Lindsay warned.

  “Had I not rescued you from your drug addict brother, you would have either become an addict yourself or been raped by one of his pathetic friends. Or, perhaps both.” He stood. “I saved you Paislee, but if you leave me again I will track him down and kill him in front of you.” He motioned to the two men who’d brought her in, and they helped her to her feet.

  “I will kill you!” she screamed as the two men pulled her out of the room and down the hall to the room she’d spent nearly every day for the last fifteen years.

  It hadn’t changed at all. The mattress still sat on the floor in the corner, the purple comforter and sheets tossed on top of it. She’d be willing to bet they hadn’t been cleaned since she’d left.

  The stack of magic books in the corner, and the iron bars on the windows that contained her magic. After she had escaped she’d learned that iron dulled a witch’s magic, it was why she’d never been able to blast her way out before, and she’d learned that Malcolm was impervious to her magic when she’d tried to kill him five years ago.

  As it turns out, he wore an iron necklace which repelled any magic she threw at him.

  He had laughed in her face while the guards around him nearly died from the blast. Paislee walked over to her mattress and reached underneath for the knife she’d stashed inside of it before she’d left.

  She wrapped her hands around the hilt and hid it underneath a blanket. Then, she laid back on the pillow and waited. She would not go down without a fight this time.

  * * *

  “She’s fucking gone, Ashton!” Timothy yelled as he paced his office. “They came, and they fucking took her because I was being an asshole!”

  “Timothy calm down.”

  Timothy eyed him, the only time Ashton ever called him by his first name was when he needed his attention.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down. They took her. She’s gone. Last time, he had her for nearly fifteen years!”

  “Last time the only one who knew where she’d been taken was a druggie. This time she has us.”

  “So, you know where he took her?”

  Ashton held up his phone with a picture of a house. “My guy tailed them here. He lost them once but managed to catch up just before they turned into the house.”

  “Was he made?”

  “Not the last time. He said he’s not even entirely sure they realized it the first time. Could have just been a coincidence that they got away.”

  Timothy nodded. “How are we going to go in and get her?”

  “That’s the tough part. Guy practically has an army guarding that place. He hired BlackPoint security. Other than us, they are the best in the business.” He ground his teeth together, “Unfortunately, I know the woman who runs it, and she is as twisted and money hungry as they come. Morality is not her strong suit.”

  “What’s the problem with just storming in? You said yourself your company is better.”

  “It’s not just BlackPoint he has on staff.” Ashton zoomed in on another photo and held it up for examination. “Those men walk the perimeter with assault rifles. I have twelve men, and a dozen men cannot take on a compound that size.”

  “Then what the hell are we supposed to do? We cannot just leave her there Ashton, he will kill her!”

  “I’m not saying we leave her, I’m saying we get more men and bigger guns.”

  “Get what you need.”

  “You got it.” Ashton left Timothy’s office, and Timothy turned to stare out at the fading cityscape.

  If his death would fix this, he would gladly throw himself off the top of this building. Because at this point, it was what he deserved. The way he had talked to her, the way he’d acted, it was absolutely inexcusable, and now she might die because of it.

  Childish? He was the one who had been childish. The buzzer sounded, and without answering, Timothy allowed whoever it was to come up to his office. It was probably Ashton with an update anyways.

  The elevator doors opened, and Timothy turned around to see Jake standing in front of him, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. He stared at Timothy, wide-eyed and afraid.

  “What are you doing here?” Timothy all but growled it and tried to keep his rage in check.

  “I, I was meeting Paislee.”

  “Well as you can see, Paislee isn’t here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Out,” he said and walked to the bar to pour himself a drink. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Parish.”

  “Where is she, Mr. McGinley?”

  “Out,” he repeated and turned to see Jake still clutching the flowers.

  “Is she, is she alright?”

  Timothy saw the accusation in Jake’s eyes, and if he hadn’t currently been beating himself up for her kidnapping, he might have laughed.

  “Are you accusing me of something, Mr. Parish?”

  “I just, I know you were upset with her.”

  “I was furious with her, but I assure you I’m past that now. She will be back in a few days, she went to visit some old friends. We both decided we needed a break from our current situation.” Garth padded over and rubbed on Timothy’s leg. “See I’m even watching her cat.”

  Jake eyed the cat suspiciously, but then nodded and set the flowers on the stand near the door. “Will you tell her I came by?”

  “When I see her again I will.”

  Jake turned and left the office without another word, and as soon as Timothy was sure he couldn’t hear him, he slammed the glass down so hard it shattered, and Garth took off.

  Timothy gripped the countertop and hung his head down to fight back the grief tearing him apart.

  First Cait, now Paislee. Just what in the hell was he supposed to do? If she died because of him, he had no idea how he was going to survive. He knew he didn’t want to ever find out.

  * * *

  “Settling back in?” Malcolm asked as he pulled the door open to her prison. She walked to the bars, the knife tucked securely in her sleeve. She wouldn’t waste an opportunity to potentially drive the knife into his neck.

  “Home sweet home,” she responded dryly.

  “Some things have changed since you left.”

  “Oh yeah? You finally grow a heart?”

  He laughed. “You’re a funny girl, Paislee, you know, I always liked you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were a little spitfire with power you had no idea you had. Do you remember that?”

  “How could I forget? When men drag an eleven-year-old girl out of bed, she tends to remember it.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Oh my dear it was much further back than that. Your father worked with me at the museum. I was an intern there, and he worked the night security, remember?”

  Paislee thought back to the times she’d gone to the museum with her father, but she couldn’t place ever seeing Malcolm there before. Was it true? Or was this just another way to control her?

  “I see you’re still having trouble remembering.” He stopped in front of the bars on the door and pulled a necklace from his pocket. “Do you recognize this?” he asked.

  She took a step clos
er and stared at the garnet surrounded by diamonds. It was beautiful, and something about it drew her eye. She stepped closer, and closer again until she was nearly to the bars. It called to her, an enchanting buzz filling her mind, blocking everything else out until she could only see it.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Malcolm commented. “You see, I was working late one night when your father brought you in for the night. You hadn’t been feeling well, and your mother and brother were away visiting someone, doesn’t really matter who. Anyways, you were wandering around with him, and I saw you stop in front of the display case that was holding this particular necklace.” He stroked the garnet gently, and Paislee was enchanted by the way the light glint off the stone.

  “I asked you if you wanted to see it. I know, I shouldn’t have, but when you nodded, I pulled it out. The second it was free from its casing you fell to the floor and started crying.” He made a pouting face, but Paislee was too focused to notice. “I pulled the stone back, confused, and put it back in the case. Your father came running over, concerned for his little girl and I told him I had no idea what had happened. But you, you just kept repeating over and over again that the stone was going to hurt you, please get the stone away.

  “I thought it was strange, so I researched it, after all, that was what I was good at, and wouldn’t you know that this particular stone is known as mortem auguratricis. Would you like to know what that means Paislee?” He knelt closer to the bars. “Mortem is the Latin word for death, and auguratricis is the Latin word for sorceress.” Knowing Paislee wasn’t paying attention, he moved closer. “This stone is meant to draw in those with magic, but get too close to it, and it will suck you dry leaving you completely powerless to those around and thereby granting the owner of the stone, all the power it possesses. Now that I am so close to my objective, I thought it was time to re-introduce you to it.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it through the bars.

  The second her arm was past the iron, she felt the drain and screamed. It was so incredibly painful, a complete and total assault on every one of her senses. She yanked and pulled, but the guards had come over to help and were holding her arm securely through the bars.