by Lana Hartley
All I am to him is a payday and a prize.
As I stare out the window of the plane, my fingers trace shapes over my sweater and pants. Pants that he picked out for me.
Nate’s dressing me now. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier—he filled up the closet with clothes and lingerie that he wants to see me in, like I’m his plaything.
The black lingerie that he picked out for me, the floral lace of the cups…
Is he picturing me in it? Did Nate choose these clothes with the hopes of tearing them off me later? I remember the heat of his gaze on me, on my breasts, as I stood up out of the bath. Nate’s hard to read, but the signs are there.
He wants me.
Even now, from the corner of my eye, I can see him watching me. His dark eyes linger on my face, before dipping lower to admire my body. The combination of his glare and the cool air of the plane hardens my nipples beneath the black cashmere.
I know that Nate can see it, and I wonder if he’s thinking about my breasts. About what he’d like to do to me if he got the chance to. My breath quickens for a moment at the thought of his strong hands on me.
When I tried to escape, he lifted me up like I was nothing. Nate could easily throw me down and have his way with me…and I almost want him to.
No, Sienna, focus. Don’t think like that.
This isn’t the Nate from my dreams. This is the Nate from my nightmares.
I sigh and sink deeper into the chair. My head rests against the top of the window of the plane. I stare out into the blackness of the night.
We’re too high up to see any land below. I’ll never see LA again, and it’s because of him. I’ll never see my dad again, and that’s Nate’s fault too.
I spent days in that guest bedroom, wallowing in my numbness, and while my heart still aches with each passing moment, I’m no longer numb.
The pit in my chest is filling up with something new—something hot and burning. It’s clawing at my insides and itching to be released.
It’s anger.
I’m angry. It’s white hot and scorching inside my chest. I ball my hands into fists, holding them tight in my lap, to stop them from trembling.
I don’t just want to cry anymore. I want to scream.
But I don’t.
Luckily, Nate isn’t a man of many words. We sit in total silence for almost the entire flight, except for when he tries to ask me if I want anything to drink or to eat.
I’m dying of thirst, and I could kill for a glass of water…but I say nothing.
Instead, I give him my best glowering stare.
He has a bottle of water brought over to me, with a cup with ice and lemon.
I try not to let Nate see my triumphant smirk.
At least I got what I wanted without having to confess to a thing.
Instead, I chew at my lip, using the darkness beyond the window as a way to clear my mind. Now isn’t the time to get caught up in emotions. My first escape attempt failed—but that was because I was in Nate’s mansion.
I was on Nate’s turf. Wherever we land...it won’t, it can’t be his. He can’t own every air strip in America.
I’ll wait ‘til the plane touches down…and then when his henchmen are unloading the baggage—there has to be baggage—I’ll just bolt for it again. If I surprise him, maybe I’ll be able to run into someone who can help me. Someone who can call the cops and save me from this nightmare.
Slowly, the clouds around the plane begin to part, and the golden lights from the city below begin to shine into the plane.
I blink, and landmarks reveal themselves to me through the window. The Empire State building, Times Square…
We’re in New York.
I knew I was leaving LA behind, but I didn’t realize that we’re going from one coast to another!
Fuck.
My heart begins to sink into my stomach, weighing me down in the chair as we begin our descent.
NYC. How will I ever get away here? I don’t know this city.
My plan seems silly now that I think of it. But I’ll never stop running from Nate, not ever. I will gain my freedom.
The last time I was in a plane, I was coming home...to Daddy, to LA.
The party was supposed to be celebrating that, my homecoming. We were celebrating me coming back to LA. I wasn’t supposed to leave it forever.
But then my dad wasn’t supposed to die.
And I was never supposed to see him collapse in front of my eyes.
None of this was supposed to happen.
The plane begins to descend below the clouds, and the city swallows us up.
When we pull up to the runway, the whole plane is under the cover of darkness, in what seems like the middle of nowhere.
“Get up,” Nate orders, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing.
He’s about to lean over and do the same for me as though I’m a child, but I’m quick to bat his hands away.
“I can do things for myself, Nate,” I name him, hoping that the ice in my words cuts him and burns him.
I’ll use venom or whatever I have at my disposal to hurt him.
I want Nate to regret ever crossing me. I want him to regret ever remembering my name, and I want him to regret everything he’s done to me and my family.
I just want him to hurt as much as I do.
We step off of the plane into the chilly night air—the East Coast is so much colder than the West, and I wish I’d brought a jacket.
As if reading my mind, Nate throws his suit jacket over my shoulders.
Standing on the steps of the plane, I don’t see anything more than I did from the window. We’re certainly in the middle of nowhere, and there’s no one around.
And there’s nowhere to run.
The only thing in sight is a sleek black limousine, almost invisible against the starless night, waiting for us at the end of the runway. The body of the limo looks new, as though it had just rolled off the factory floor.
Again, I find myself questioning why he’s treating me so well.
We climb into the back, the two of us separated from Nate’s guards by a thick black screen.
The tinted windows make it hard for me to see where we are. Nevertheless, I try to watch the streets through the dark glass, and I commit things to memory—unique graffiti, funny street signs—anything that’ll help me find my way home once I manage my escape.
The limo pulls into an underground parking garage somewhere in the middle of the city. Nate takes my arm and leads me towards a VIP elevator. We ride up in silence, flanked by the two guards.
The air is thick with tension. I can tell they’re all waiting for me to run again.
I won’t give them the satisfaction of escaping when they’re expecting it.
The doors open into one of the most luxurious penthouses I’ve ever seen. It’s large and open with tall glass windows and modern décor. But I barely have any time to appreciate the view—which stretches on for miles and miles over the glowing, glittering jungle of New York City—before I’m pushed towards another guest bedroom.
Nate’s LA mansion was huge and spacious, clean, and white. The chandeliers sparkled overhead and illuminated every inch of the room.
Nate’s penthouse is the complete opposite.
I’m lead into a black-walled bedroom, my shoes slip slightly on the shiny walnut floor. Each wall has a piece of similarly monochromatic art, except for the one opposite the bed, which is occupied by a large flat screen TV.
The bed itself is huge, easily king-sized—or perhaps even larger. Like the mansion, the bed is covered in silks and satin—with a large faux fur throw covering the end. It matches the thick faux fur rug on the floor, some kind of imitation wolf fur.
Part of me wants to throw myself onto the bed and nestle in the warmth. But with Nate behind me, I keep my cool.
“This is where you’re staying,” he says to me, standing in the doorway. “Don’t try to escape. I can always see you.”
“
You can’t see me all the time,” I challenge.
Nate laughs, “I have cameras everywhere, and everyone in this building is loyal to me.” He shakes his head and steps back, all but closing the door, “Trust me, Sienna, I can see you. You’re mine, remember?”
The door clicks shut. I know he’s right—Nate has me right where he wants me, alone in New York. I’m all his.
When I’m alone, exhaustion begins to crash over my body. The weight of the last four days almost knocks me from my feet. I stagger to the closet, expecting Nate to have filled it with clothes for me, and I’m not disappointed.
I strip naked until I’m wearing nothing but my lingerie, and I drape a satin chemise over my body.
I crawl into bed, slipping beneath the cool covers.
I can’t even stay conscious long enough to close the curtains or turn off the lights.
I relish in the dreams of home and of my childhood. It’s my only escape since my life became a nightmare.
Nate
We’ve made it.
We’re safe—for now.
I’ve got Sienna settled in her room, and now it’s time to get down to business.
Titus and James at my side, we walk through the penthouse. I have us split up and check different areas, making sure it’s totally secure. Any obvious breaches of security need to be handled immediately.
It’s not just me and my crew I have to worry about anymore. I must keep Sienna safe.
Now that we’re here in New York, I have a little bit of time to breathe and think about what to do next.
“All good on the south side,” Titus walks up, and James comes from the other end. “North side clear, too.”
“Good, now we just need to come up with our next plan. New York is safe, but it won’t be for long. I wouldn’t put it past Edison to track us down sooner rather than later. His network is fucking expansive. I want you guys to keep your ears to the ground. Let me know if anything seems fishy, or you get wind of Edison’s men nearby.”
“You got it,” they both nod.
“Another thing, make sure everyone knows not to let Sienna out on her own. She must always be accompanied. Chances are if she’s not with me, she’ll try to sneak off.”
“We’ll make sure the guys know,” Titus says and they both take their leave.
I walk to the bar and pour myself a glass of Macallan 50. Taking a long sip, I let the flavors roll over my tongue. The essence of spice and vanilla calm me, and the peat finish is just what the doctor ordered.
It’s smooth, yet strong.
Staring out at the New York City skyline, I can’t help but let my thoughts drift to Sienna.
She’s pissed. I get it. But she’s not letting me in, either.
I’m trying to envision what it’s like being in her shoes, but the reality is, I have no clue.
I’ve seen men murdered in front of me. Hell, I’ve taken lives, spilled blood with my own two fucking hands.
But this is her father we’re talking about.
I take another sip and wince.
The agony I see on her face is real, and every time I see it, I want to hold her.
I’ve had many women say they hate me, mainly because I wouldn’t commit. I’d shrug it off with a laugh and go on my way.
But, hearing it come from her was like having ice-cold water fucking dumped over my head.
I never want to hear those words from her.
She’s different from the rest. She’s the only one I’ll put everything on the line for.
I sigh, turning back to the bar.
Seems like these last few days, she’s been the only thing on my mind. Everything I’m doing is to keep her safe, to keep her close to me.
I‘ve longed to return to her for years, and while this isn‘t how I planned it, the fact of the matter is, she’s here by my side.
I’m never gonna let her go.
Safety has been the main priority, so we haven’t had much time to talk. I haven’t had time to explain everything that’s been happening.
Not that she’s in much of a state to listen to me.
Instead, we’ve been in the midst of forming plans or being on the run from Edison and his men.
There’s never gonna be a good time to have this conversation.
So, no time like the present.
I down the rest of my drink and head to her room.
There’s no need to knock, it’s my place, and so I just walk right in.
She’s cuddled up under the covers, her bare shoulder peeking out.
I want nothing more than to lean down and kiss it, then move up to her neck and her lips.
I’ve imagined many times over the last few days what it would be like to fuck her, to make her mine.
Mentally calming my raging cock, I sit on the bed, keeping a safe distance from Sienna.
I’m close enough to reach out, but I don’t dare.
I won’t be able to control myself the moment I lay my hands on her smooth skin.
I know nothing I say right now is going to change her mind, not with the state that she’s in. But I have to fucking try.
I need her to understand that I would never have ordered the murder of her father. He was always good to me during my youth. I haven’t forgotten that, not for a single fucking second. He treated me like I was his own, and the news of his death shook me too.
But Sienna is my priority right now. I have to handle the fallout, whether I like the outcome or not.
She stirs as I sit, and I can tell she’s awake, even if she’s not looking at me.
“Sienna, I’m sorry,” I let out a heavy breath, “I had no idea who the target of the kidnapping was, let alone that it was you.”
She finally rolls over, and the look on her face says it all. She doesn’t believe me. I can’t blame her. Things are so much different now than they were the last time we crossed paths.
“I never would’ve stood for it, them kidnapping you. And your dad—” she tenses up as I start talking about Hudson. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t give that order. It was made behind my back. You have to—”
“How did you turn into this, Nate? A hardened criminal…it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Maybe I never really did,” her voice is soft, but laced with anger.
“It’s complicated, Sienna. Really complicated. This life happened to me, and I couldn’t get out. But regardless of what you think, I never forgot about you. Not for a single fucking second.”
I look her right in her beautiful blue eyes. They’re glimmering with a mix of emotions.
“Is that right?” The sarcasm in her voice is hard to miss, but I don’t let it shake me.
No matter what it takes, I’m going to make her fucking understand.
I’m going to make her understand that she’s important to me, then and now, now and forever.
“I’m not going to lie and say everything’s okay, because it’s not. We’ve got some shit to deal with. But, I’ll find a way to keep you safe, Sienna. You’re everything to me.”
The look in her eyes is questioning, yet defiant.
The spark that makes her Sienna is there, masked under the stress of the last few days.
All I can do is look at her. She’s gorgeous, and I’m overcome with desire. Desire to take her in my arms, to feel her against me.
All in due time.
“I want you to have dinner with me.”
“That sounds like an order.”
“That’s because it is. There are plenty of clothes in there,” I gesture to the closet. “I had them picked out just for you. Get dressed, and meet me in the dining room. Don’t keep me waiting.”
I leave no room for argument as I head toward the door.
She huffs behind me, but says nothing else.
I don’t turn and look at her, because doing so would force the rest of my fucking self-control out of my mind.
I close the door behind me and head to the kitchen.
I’m going to have the chef
prepare a feast for us, and then see where the evening takes us. If all goes well, she’ll end up in my bed.
I’ll make her see reason, then finally make her mine.
I can’t wait any longer.
Sienna
Was I wrong?
Could Nate be the man I remember him as?
Could he be the man I want and need him to be?
I replay the conversation in my head, trying to savor every second of it. I commit each moment to memory so that I can be sure.
“You’re everything to me now.”
I shudder as the echo of his words dance through my mind.
From the moment he sat down on my bed, I could see that Nate was a different man. He wasn’t as cold, wasn’t as distant.
For the first time, I could see the glimmer of a real person behind his godly body and dark, stormy eyes.
I want to take that glimmer and run with it. I’d run far away from all this—from LA, from New York…I want Nate to be the guy I remember him as, but I’m starting to think that no amount of distance—geographical or otherwise—is going to bring my first love back to me.
But perhaps there’s a chance this Nate is someone I can fall equally as hard for.
Maybe he’s not so bad.
Of course, I’m not stupid.
In the back of my mind, I’m still not convinced I can trust him—not yet.
This Nathan Sharp is the kind of man who doesn’t blink twice at kidnapping, or even murder.
If it hadn’t been my dad he—or his boss—had killed, and another girl was in my place, Nate wouldn’t even care. If murder comes too easily to him, then lying can’t be difficult either.
What if everything he says is just a ruse to get me to trust him? To stop me from wanting to run?
Then it’s working.
Being alone in the world is so tiring, and I can’t stay like this forever.
I dress in a silk robe and cross the room, holding fresh towels at my hip.
Unlike my en suite back in the mansion, the bathroom in Nate’s penthouse is somewhat colder—but not literally, the floor is heated from below and each step is like walking on a beach—but the décor is darker. I spot a large bathtub that occupies half the room and make my way towards it, my muscles aching for a soak.