Hostage

by Stone, Piper

  His dark demeanor.

  His intense blue eyes.

  His voluptuous lips.

  I pressed the back of my hand across my mouth to keep from sobbing. Despite their assurances that they were now going to protect me, I couldn’t believe them. Damien and Ruger had ulterior motives. Even Aleksandr’s story seemed surreal, as if he’d found the idea straight out of a romantic thriller. I couldn’t risk trusting any of them.

  I needed to take things into my own hands if I wanted to live and I had an idea, albeit risky. I studied the moon for another few seconds, the whimsical thoughts remaining in the back of my mind. I’d played them well, pretending that I was falling for all of them.

  Damn it.

  Damn them.

  For a few seconds, I’d even fallen into my own trap, enjoying their touches and their kisses and the rough but amazing lovemaking. Who was I kidding? The three men weren’t capable of loving anyone but themselves. Shifting, the way the jeans slid across my sore bottom was another reminder of the time we’d shared together. For a little while, I hadn’t been their hostage or a girl in danger. I’d simply been a woman of desire.

  Stop it. Stop thinking this way.

  I was still consumed with apprehension, but my anger had increased tenfold. I was strong enough to do this.

  I checked the clock. Almost three in the morning. They had to be fast asleep by now. I stood at the window, watching the lightly falling snow. From what I’d been told, a storm was rolling in, one that would blanket the entire area with several inches. Another deterrent that I couldn’t afford to risk.

  I’d already checked the bedroom door. They hadn’t bothered to lock me in. I was a good enough actress. I’d observed them the entire day, studying their actions, comparing their behaviors. They’d made a few mistakes, including the hiding place for the keys to the van. What had interested me the most was the abundance of information both Ruger and Aleksandr had brought forward during various periods of the day.

  Which meant there had to be a computer in the house.

  I’d had two five-minute intervals to search the premises. Only one door was locked. What they didn’t know was that I’d become an expert at picking locks when I was younger, having been sequestered away in my room on dozens of occasions. My father’s way of dealing with my caustic mouth was to lock me in my room. How many times had I snuck out, even picking the lock to his office drawer, the one holding copious amounts of cash.

  All from his dubious business dealings.

  My goal was to try and send an email to Federal Agent Dan Swift. If I could make that happen, then I might have a chance at being protected by the law, not by three wayward men who’d been blackmailed into a dirty deed. If that was really the case. I couldn’t ignore the fact this could be simply an elaborate hoax created by Santana and these were merely three hired goons playing a part.

  Everything in my mind was on overdrive, running the various options as if any of them made any sense. The boy with the deep blue eyes, the same eyes that would forever haunt me. The monster Mafioso who’d promised I’d one day belong to him.

  After another quick glance at the clock, I realized it was time.

  Grabbing my coat, I moved stealthily to the door, opening very slowly. There were no sounds coming from other parts of the house indicating anyone was awake. As I crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the two stairs that I’d learned creaked, I scanned the darkness. The fire had died down, merely leaving a warm reddish glow. All the lights were off.

  Both good indications the three men had been out for a while. I’d made certain to refill their drinks quite often. Smirking, I found exactly what I needed in one of the kitchen drawers, as well as grabbing the keys then moving quietly down the hallway.

  Picking the lock was far too easy, the simple design one used in almost every household. I did have to wonder what kind of a safe house this truly was. I waited before entering, uncertain whether there was any kind of additional security. I found out quickly that there was none. A simple basic office much like the rest of the house itself.

  I closed the door with a soft click, turning on the desk lamp. The office was nothing special, merely a room with four walls, a desk and chair, along with a closet and a single bookshelf. Even the books located on the shelves were far too simplistic, novels from various authors. This was definitely a vacation home.

  After checking the nearly empty drawers and pulling out various books looking for a hidden compartment, I finally moved to the small closet. Damn it. Empty. Huffing, I was ready to abandon the first part of my plan when a crease in the wall drew my attention. Within seconds, I discovered a hidden panel. Bingo.

  The laptop located just inside was warm, indicating it was still powered on. When I hit the space bar, I finally smiled. Maybe luck was coming my way. The connection was stronger than I would have imagined, indicating we weren’t that far off the beaten path. Another good sign.

  I had no time to waste and maneuvered my way to my private google account. While I had only limited information about my location or the men keeping me hostage, I had no doubts Dan would be able to piece everything together. At least the Feds were good for something.

  Very quickly I typed the agent a message, providing as many details as I could remember, including Lucian Masters’ name. There was a direct connection to Ruger. At least I was certain of that. Even better, Aleksandr Olatoff and Aleksandr Petrov’s identities could also be checked for any kind of accuracy. If Ruger was a cop as I suspected, Dan would know. I hesitated only briefly before hitting send. With any luck, I’d find a location to hide out then try and figure out how to give him a call with an update to my location.

  After that, the three of them would be arrested. Justice served.

  Why was the sickening feeling still festering in my stomach as well as my heart?

  I moved toward the door, double checking the hallway, deciding to risk a few additional minutes in order to snoop. There was very little on the system, but I did find a very secure login for what appeared to be a site used by police officers. I knew better than to try and break the code. Perhaps some of what Ruger had told me was truthful. I hesitated, my head aching. What if every single aspect of what they’d told me was right? Jesus.

  Taking a chance, I navigated to the internet, searching Baton Rouge news. Neither my abduction nor any indication that there’d been a quick decision had found its way to the various news sources. But tomorrow was Monday. Tomorrow would change everything.

  My fingers trembling, I put everything back exactly as I’d found it, turning off the light and waiting in the hallway for a few seconds. Listening. Waiting.

  Hoping.

  That Ruger would break through his chains, confiding in me.

  That Damien would offer me an explanation of how they knew each other.

  That I’d hear that Lily wasn’t the love of their lives.

  That all my fantasies would come true.

  Fuck it. I had to fend for myself.

  I moved through the kitchen and toward the door leading to the garage, checking for any trip wires or other indications that a security system was in place. Again, there was nothing that I could detect. The haphazard actions certainly weren’t the mark of a trained law enforcement officer.

  There were no flashing lights or beeping horns when I opened the main garage door and eased into the van. Before starting the engine, I stared out into the blackness, contemplating my decision for one last time. I had to do this. This was the only logical choice.

  The moment I started the engine, I felt free.

  And terrified.

  I hit the gas, easing the van out of the garage. Only then did I turn on the headlights. I realized I’d been holding my breath as I pulled out of the driveway, checking the rearview mirror at least ten times. When I was finally on the road, I squealed with delight.

  Just a split second before I noticed him standing in the road. Reacting, everything flashed to a slow motion video as I slam
med on the breaks, still able to see the glare in Ruger’s eyes, the frustration and determination riding his face.

  As I veered to the right to avoid hitting him, the tires skidding on the road, the van fishtailing back and forth. I’d lost control. No. No. No...

  No!

  * * *

  I heard voices—all male and very dark. And angry. Shifting, I winced then opened my eyes, pain shifting behind my sockets. “Oh.” I clenched them shut, trying to make sense of what had happened.

  The van.

  Breaking free.

  Being caught.

  Wrecking.

  Fuck...

  “I’m not a damn mechanic, but I’ll see what I can do.” Damien said, huffing.

  “She’s lucky she didn’t get herself killed,” Aleksandr added. His tone was less demanding, softer and laced with concern.

  An image floated into my mind of Ruger’s face. He’d known all along I would attempt to escape. Maybe his actions had even been to dare me to try. I wouldn’t put anything past him.

  I wanted to be angry, but I was too exhausted, my eyelids heavy.

  “She might have a concussion, which is why we need to try and keep her awake.” Ruger’s voice was the angriest of all.

  I shuddered hearing his tone.

  “Then why the hell did you let her sleep all these hours for God’s sake?” Aleksandr snapped.

  How long had I been sleeping? I was even more anxious.

  “She was exhausted, okay? You’re right, she could have been killed and it would have been our fault!” Ruger snapped.

  I could almost feel their thudding heartbeats.

  “If we can’t get the van fixed, what the hell do we do?” Damien asked, half laughing. “We have a snowstorm out there, people no doubt hunting us down and we’re on the wrong side of the law.”

  “We buy a damn car if we have to,” Ruger stated. “I’m going to check on her. See if you can get the van running. We need to get the hell out of here today.”

  “Why today? What happened?” Aleksandr demanded.

  I heard the anxiety in Ruger’s voice, the dark and sensuous tone that was difficult to ignore.

  “What aren’t you telling us, Ruger?” Damien threw out.

  I struggled to move, accessing the damage to my aching body. Fortunately, only my head was killing me. I vaguely remembered slamming my head against the driver’s side window just seconds before I blacked out. I eased my hand to my forehead, hissing when I felt the lump. I tried again, opening my eyes, focusing as daylight cascaded in through the open blinds. The snow continued to fall, a beautiful backdrop.

  For a nightmare.

  Without moving, I turned my head. They’d positioned me on the living room couch. The fire was roaring and I was covered by a thick blanket, but I was still freezing, the chill boring straight to the bone.

  After he exhaled, I could tell Ruger was pacing the floor. “I made a phone call.”

  “To?” Aleksandr huffed.

  “My contact. He’s going to find out every scrap of information that he can about the Raven’s activities.”

  I tried to remain quiet, gleaning as much information as I could.

  “And you trust this contact?” The Russian’s accent was much stronger, his anger evident.

  “I do.” Ruger’s answer was met with silence.

  Finally, Damien snorted. “A man of few words. I’m going to get the damn van started one way or the other and we are getting out of here.”

  “There’s more,” Ruger said in a cold and calculating voice.

  “What?” The anger in Aleksandr’s voice was palpable.

  “Lucian Masters texted last night. The money should have been wired to the offshore account. If so, we’re supposed to bring Carina to a drop off point by noon.”

  I bit back a cry, pulling the covers tightly around me. No. No! They couldn’t do this. They wouldn’t do this.

  “Fucking fantastic. I have a feeling there’s a consequences statement after that. Isn’t there, Ruger?” Damien’s voice boomed.

  “Keep your damn voice down,” Ruger demanded. “The consequences are the same as they’ve always been. We simply have a deadline and I suggest we pretend we’re going to meet it.”

  “Then what? Who is your contact, Ruger? Aleksandr and I deserve to know.”

  Ruger hesitated before answering. “My captain. He’s the man I can trust.”

  “You told a law enforcement officer who is under requirements to follow the law that you kidnapped the prosecuting attorney from a prominent case? Did you also mention that you had help?” Damien laughed.

  I tried to put the pieces together. If Ruger really had been working undercover with the Dioletti family, then he was working for the ninth precinct. Captain... Captain Roger Sykes. I knew the man’s reputation. He was honest and well respected.

  “He is well aware of the circumstances,” Ruger answered. “He might be the only man who can help us out of this mess.”

  “Then why didn’t you invoke his help before all this shit started?” Damien confronted.

  “Because we had to go along with the demands. You know why, Damien. You know exactly why. Don’t you think that if I’d had any other choice I would have grabbed it rather than risking Carina’s life? Or fucking up mine?”

  There was such pain in Ruger’s voice.

  “Does your captain know?” Damien asked.

  “Which one of you is going to fill me in?” Aleksandr piped in.

  I shifted, moving to a sitting position. “Lily.” There was almost no reaction at first, both Ruger and Damien simply glowering at each other, angry that they were both in this position.

  Then all three of them turned their heads in my direction.

  “Who the hell is Lily?” Aleksandr half whispered as he moved in my direction. “Thank God, you’re all right. You need your rest.”

  I shoved away the blanket, moving slowly, my head pounding. “I need the truth. Lily is the love of Ruger’s life.” I could see the slight shake of Damien’s head, the faraway look the man had in his eyes. I knew I was right. I crawled around the arm of the couch, my legs wobbling as I tried to stand.

  “Whoa. Hold on here,” Aleksandr helped me to my feet, wrapping his arm around my waist.

  Ruger dropped his head, exhaling. “That’s why you ran.”

  “One reason. I knew I meant nothing to you, to any of you.” As much as I wanted to push Aleksandr away, I didn’t have the strength to stand on my own.

  “Lily isn’t who you think she is, Carina.” Ruger didn’t bother moving closer.

  “She’s not the reason you allowed yourself to be blackmailed into this? She’s not the reason that you contacted your old buddy to help you? Lily. The woman you both love? Maybe she’s also the reason you hate each other as much as you do.”

  “We don’t hate each other,” Damien said softly. “And what happened between us had nothing to do with Lily, at least not in the way you’re thinking.”

  “Then somebody explain it to me.” I heard the edge in my voice even as the tears threatened to give me away, highlighting I was just a weak little girl, lost in a sea of bullshit. I was disgusted with myself, hating that the very independence I’d worked so hard to achieve had taken me to this point.

  Being broken down.

  They’d won after all.

  “Lily is... She’s my sister. She was taken from her life and her family because Lucian Masters knew that was the only way I’d cross over the line. They knew she was the single person left in my life that I gave a damn about.”

  The haunting words reverberated in the room, spilling into my ears yet barely registering. “What?”

  Damien nodded as he walked closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “What Ruger is telling you is the truth. I adored Lily when I was a teenager, dreaming of spending my life with her, but Ruger’s father had other ideas. I was a criminal and was forbidden to see her. She’s always remained special in my heart, just like my
friendship with...Ruger.” He eased his head back, hissing under his breath. “The game was well played, only we’re not entirely certain of all the players.”

  “Your sister?” I managed, my words little more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I just... I had no idea.” Why didn’t he have the guts to tell me? Why? I thought about everything I’d learned regarding Lucian Masters. He was known to be relenting and brutal, but a connection to the Raven?

  “They’ll kill her if we don’t turn you over as required,” Ruger finished. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “But she could die,” I said in a rhetorical manner. “Jesus.”

  “No one is going to die,” Aleksandr stated with defiance. “I’m going to check to see if the money was wired to an account. Now that I know the truth, I’m going to use every contact I have, every agent who owes me a favor to find your sister. You need to give me every scrap of information that you can about her.”

  Ruger nodded. He looked so exhausted, the weight of the world still firmly on his shoulders.

  “Who are you, Ruger?” I realized as I looked into Damien’s eyes that I had met him before, just I had Ruger. They were much different then, younger and smaller, but the eyes never lied.

  Damien shot a look in Ruger’s direction, perhaps giving his friend some courage.

  “My name is Michael Thurman. Lieutenant Michael Thurman of the Baton Rouge Police Department. The man known as Lucian Masters was my father’s partner years ago, during a time that they ruled the streets with an iron fist, practicing vigilante justice. I have no doubt their brutal actions were the reason the Trust enlisted their services. They were legendary, even working with Santana Dioletti’s father during a time that the streets were crime ridden. However, you couldn’t tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys given the amount of bloodshed. I became a cop not to honor my father, but to change the system, bringing down both crime lords and the old boys in blue network.”