Protector's Claim

by Airicka Phoenix

  Both jolted when I stepped into my own house, guilty expressions turning sheepish.

  “Daddy!” Cordelia started forward a little too fast.

  She stopped when I put my hand up.

  “What is this?”

  The kid shifted in his discomfort and need to play an adult.

  “I’m here regarding your wife, sir.”

  I frowned at my daughter. “I thought you said she was dead.”

  Cordelia opened red lips, but the man-child beat her to it.

  “Yes sir, but we still need to follow up.”

  I frowned as I passed my coat to Jameson. “Follow up that she’s still dead?”

  “No, the cause...”

  “She OD’d, did she not?”

  The last part was directed to Cordelia. My ever-eloquent daughter faltered, regressing into a stuttering twit and forever ruining my perception of her; I had almost hoped she would be better, better than her mother, better than the usual female race. She almost had me believing I could be wrong about women. Yet, she stood before me now, a lost little doe with big eyes and an empty skull.

  How tragic indeed. All my hard work wasted.

  “She is,” the man-child declared. “She did,” he corrected. “But it’s mandatory for the police to investigate.”

  “What is there to investigate? She overdosed.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  Whatever made it complicated was never clarified. Instead, he was rummaging through his pockets for his pen and pad. I found myself frowning as he stopped on a clean page.

  “Where were you tonight?”

  The audacity momentarily stunned me into an outraged silence. Was he honestly suggesting I had anything to do the death of my wife? Did he not understand how ludicrous that was?

  “I wasn’t home, as I’m sure you were told.”

  Even to my own ear, each syllable hissed out, the violent grate of stone dragging across steel. I could feel the intensity of it rising up the back of my neck, the hot wash of fury laced with serrated tips of aggression. If I were honest with myself, it was more than simply being asked a routine question. My irritation stemmed from the day I had. It seemed everything that could go wrong had, and I could feel the threads containing me beginning to come undone.

  “I understand that, but I still need your whereabouts.”

  My whereabouts.

  The truth was out of the question. That would lead to Gabrielle, which would lead to her ridiculous bodyguard and Bruce. I may not have been responsible for Marcella’s death, but I wasn’t about to take responsibility for them.

  “I had matters at the office,” I lied. “I was there all evening. Alone,” I added before he could demand a witness.

  “I can vouch for that,” Cordelia chimed in. “I’ve been helping with his new project and I can assure you he hasn’t been home all day.”

  Idiot girl.

  I would have backhanded her if the man-child wasn’t two feet away, studiously scribbling everything we said on his idiotic notepad.

  “Was your wife suicidal?”

  Her first doctor had thought so. He’d stamped depression with suicidal tendencies on her records before I’d had them shredded and the doctor stripped of his license. Those were words that could ruin a man’s reputation. No one wanted a broken wife and I couldn’t risk people finding out just how truly pathetic the woman I, David Thornton had actually married was. The shame of it would have made me suicidal.

  “Of course not,” I snapped.

  Man-child lifted his head and fixed me with eyes that no longer seemed quite as clueless as I’d suspected. In fact, there was wariness there that made the place between my shoulder blades itch.

  “Were you aware that your wife had a substance problem?”

  Problem? Those drugs were our solution to her delusions. They kept her balanced, and unlike the medications the doctors would have given her, no one knew about them. There was no record, no way to become a problem.

  I suppose I was wrong about that.

  “My wife wasn’t well,” I corrected. “She was sick and we were doing what we could to help her manage it.”

  “What kind of sick?”

  This was getting out of hand.

  “The kind that will require you to get in touch with our lawyer.”

  He never so much as batted an eyelash, as if he were already expecting that answer. “Why would your wife take her own life, Mr. Thornton?”

  “Did she?” I challenged sharply. “It could very well have been an accident.”

  “Perhaps,” he countered smoothly. “We’ll have the toxicology report within the next few hours, I imagine.” His pen and notepad wielding hands slipped into his pockets and returned without the items to hang at his sides, nearly non-threatening. “Someone will be in touch, Mr. Thornton.” He turned in the direction of the doors. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I said nothing until he’d gone and my foyer was void of useless know-it-alls who essentially worked for me. After all, I paid their salary, I gave money to their ridiculous charities and had monthly dinners with their chief. My wife dies and he has the nerve to accuse me. I had half a mind to have his badge.

  Instead, I reverted my attention to the woman standing a few feet away, watching me.

  “What were you thinking vouching for me?”

  I stalked past her without waiting for an answer, not really caring for one. My feet moved in the direction of the parlor. Hers followed obediently, a loyal lab. I didn’t know whether to tell her to fuck off, or throw her a dog treat. Perhaps the latter, just to shut her up.

  I poured myself a large drink and imagined I was alone with my thoughts. I ignored the squeak and rustle of weight claiming the sofa. Her eager gaze burrowed into the place between my shoulder blades, rusted nails digging into flesh and bone. I had half a mind to pitch my glass at her head.

  “Fuck me,” I grumbled into the rim, battling with the last of my patience.

  Why was I surrounded by so much disappointment? The fact that it was Cordelia only seemed to make the matter worse. Perhaps I had myself to blame for that. I had, after all, indulged her, cradled her, allowed her to believe she was worth something. Well, she had been once. She’d been my means to a better future, a promising one. I suppose that’s what you get when you put all your eggs in one basket, but what choice did I have? I had originally put my money on Eric, hoping his friendship with Kieran would be the door I needed. Granted, I hadn’t been entirely surprised when Kieran had outgrown my son’s manwhoring bullshit. But there had been so much hope for Cordelia. Walter had agreed, had even approved the arrangement. I had everything ready and perfectly in place. All she had to do was lock him in. One job. One tiny little job and she fucked me over so monumentally, my asshole hurt. I couldn’t even look at her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I cringed at the sound of her voice, at the tremor that only managed to intensify my disgust.

  “I know I let you down, but I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

  How she was planning to do that was beyond me. Frankly, I didn’t give a shit. Kieran wasn’t an idiot. He’d already set his sights on Gabrielle and turned Cordelia down. No sane man would ever pick a cow over a prized mare, especially if he’s already rejected it once before.

  No. There was nothing she could do to fix the damage she’d caused.

  Come to think of it, it was her fault I had to resort to such petty discomforts. If she had done what she was supposed to, I would have had Gabrielle to myself and would already be making plans for my own seat at parliament as planned.

  Instead, in a matter of mere days, Cordelia managed to royally screw everyone simply by being a colossal waste of space.

  “There is nothing you can do now,” I mumbled, mainly to myself, but apparently loud enough to prompt a response from her.

  “I can! I promise I can.” She was practically panting, an irritating sound of a dog in heat. “I will. Just ... pleas
e don’t be angry with me.”

  I walked out, taking my drink with me; now that Marcella was no longer hovering around in dark corners, waiting to pounce on a man for having a drink or two during the day, I was finally free to do whatever the fuck I wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-Four — Kieran

  The warehouse was like any other, a three-story structure of brick and metal with high windows along the upper floor, but nothing along the bottom. The fading sunlight poured off the metal roof, glinting from the bottom of the winding driveway before we reached the base.

  I pulled up behind Tiberius’s Charger and cut the engine. The other man was already out and pocketing his keys when I pushed my door open and let my feet sink into the gravel.

  “You have Gabby here?”

  A ghost of a smile ticked up the corner of his mouth. “I assure you, it’s much more than it seems from the outside. But anonymity is always key in such matters.”

  I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He’d been suspiciously quiet about the entire matter, refusing to even give me the proper address. A smarter man, I’m sure, would have known better than to simply follow some stranger to a secret warehouse in the middle of nowhere, especially when said man was friends with the man who kidnapped Gabby in the first place.

  But I refused to allow my doubts to cloud my hope, not when there was still a fifty percent chance I could have her back before the hour was complete. That was all that mattered. I was already prepared to give the man whatever he wanted in exchange. There really was nothing more important, nothing I needed or wanted that surpassed Gabby’s safety. He had yet to tell me what he wanted, but it didn’t matter. I would make it happen.

  We climbed the wooden steps together and entered the main area, a spacious waiting space with a desk and a pretty blonde behind it. She smiled as we walked in, but didn’t say anything as we moved past her. A set of stairs strained upwards just behind her and stopped at a closed door, but Tiberius led me down a brightly lit corridor leading away from the front doors and her. At the very end, I could just make out a single door with an exit sign stamped into its metal surface. I was beginning to wonder if we were going back outside and what sort of place was set up like that when Tiberius stopped abruptly at an alcove I nearly missed on our right. He wrenched open another door and motioned me to follow him down a row of steep stairs, straight into darkness.

  The bottom ended at yet another door that opened overlooking an enormous, open space broken by two rows of cubical that gave the eerie resemblance of aquariums. Only there were no fishes, or water, but people — women, to be exact, half naked and strapped to things, torture devices designed to humiliate and hurt. It was so close to the place my father had taken me all those years ago, so disturbingly similar my gut wrenched. My heart sank even as my blood boiled. The unrestrainable burst of raw fury nearly overcame the calm I’d been so desperately clinging on to.

  “You’re keeping Gabby down here?”

  Tiberius ignored my snarling growl, which only intensified the brewing panic just beneath the rage. Had they hurt her? Was she pinned to one of these wooden contraptions, whipped, bleeding, and hurt? I would kill them. All of them. I would tear them to pieces with my bare hands. I would leave there with their blood painting the walls and running in crimson tears into the drains. I would leave no survivors. Then I’d pay David a visit. Him I would take my time with, killing and torturing him until he begged me to end it.

  The homicidal blood lust should have surprised me. I had never in my life visualized the slow and gruesome death of another person, but it was all as clear as a plasma TV, a 3D picture. I could almost touch it. I could smell its coppery scent.

  Nevertheless, I followed him, my strides long and unyielding. My gaze swung from box to box, never lingering too long on the scenes unfolding beyond the plates of glass, but searching. I was a full two steps ahead of Tiberius now, practically sprinting in my rush. I was nearly at the end before I realized he wasn’t following me anymore. He’d stopped midway to the middle, body rigid, head cocked to one side. His stance, any other time, would have been amusing, like watching a Cocker Spaniel survey a squirrel in a tree. But there was no tree, no squirrel, just a sheet of glass separating him from whatever was puzzling him.

  I couldn’t see Gabby. I did a quick spin on the spot to be sure, but she didn’t seem to be there.

  “Where is she?” I stalked back to where he stood, eyeing an empty cubical with a deep look of contemplation. “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes had narrowed. The irritation mirrored in the cutting blade of his jaw and in the quick flare of his nostrils.

  “Lady.” It took me a full second to realize he wasn’t talking to me.

  “What?”

  Without bothering to spare an answer, he snapped on his heels and marched back. His hurried, almost angry strides spurred mine into action, coaxing me to give chase with a hefty weight in my gut.

  We exited the same way we’d arrived, through the backdoor and up the stairs. We arrived back in the corridor and the blonde who offered me another smile, but one laced with surprise and confusion. Neither I, nor Tiberius stopped to offer her an explanation when he stalked straight past her and up the stairs.

  I didn’t wait to be asked to follow. I wasn’t letting him out of my sights until I had Gabby back.

  At the top, he wrenched open the door and swung it open with all the impatience of a man catching his teen daughter entertaining a boy in her room. But the room was empty. The parts I caught glimpses of from around his impressive frame sat in perfect stillness, a calm that usually came from an absence of a person.

  I was about to lose my shit. I didn’t have time for this. All I could think was that he was playing me, giving me the run around in some sick game. I was ready to knock the fuck out of him when he marched deeper into the wide space. His footfalls seemed to echo with his ire. They thumped loudly as he crossed to the desk on the other side.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  I crept in closer, my earlier blood lust dissolving into wariness.

  My earlier assumption proved to be faulty when I spotted her. The sight of her startled me the way a person afraid of dogs would be at the unexpected presence of one.

  But the woman hidden on the other side of the desk was anything, but a dog. If I had to place an animal title on her, I would have said she was a cat. Everything from the pointed cat ears poking up at the top of her head to the slitted contact lenses in her eyes was feline. Everything from the neck down, however, was very much woman, a stunningly beautiful one in tight, leather pants and a corset that shoved her generous breasts dangerously to the top. She sat kneeling on a plush cushion, hands placed demurely on her knees, her red talons a crimson contrast to the leather. Her dark hair was scooped back and fastened with a red ribbon that matched the one around her slender throat. Yet, the oddest thing about her was the riding crop resting innocently on the pillow beside her.

  “Lady.” Exasperation echoed in the single word.

  The woman didn’t move, not even to lift her chin and peer up at us. I could have sworn she was a life-like doll, except I could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the rigid lines in her shoulders.

  “What did you do?”

  She remained perfectly mute, but her chin lowered a notch in guilt or shame.

  Tiberius crossed to her and cupped her jaw, forcing her gaze to his face.

  “Answer me.”

  There was fear in her eyes when she answered, “I let her go, Sir.”

  She winced when the blunt curves of his fingertips dented her soft, pale cheeks, but she never cried out.

  “Why would you do that?”

  Her chin wobbled. I never would have noticed if it hadn’t made her bottom lip tremble. Her eyes filled.

  “She reminded me of before, Sir. He wasn’t her person. She didn’t belong here. I was afraid.”

  Tiberius snatched his hand back as if tha
t word, that omission had somehow burned him.

  Without his support, her chin lowered until we could only see the top of her head and the teardrops that plummeted off the edge of her nose and splattered across her thighs. They rolled down the shiny leather without creating a stain.

  “Forgive me, Sir.”

  To my surprise, he knelt in front of her. His palms cupped her cheeks with greater tenderness and lifted her face once more. His thumbs swiped away the tears, loving little sweeps that only seemed to create more when she broke into sobs.

  “You’re not there anymore, darling. I will never let you go back. I promised you that, didn’t I?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow when she bobbed her head. “But you should have trusted that I would take care of this.”

  She nodded again. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “No,” he agreed, pushing to his feet. He gingerly brushed away a stray tear from her cheek. “It won’t, but we’ll discuss it later. Where did she go?”

  “Backdoor, Sir.”

  “When?”

  “Twenty minutes, Sir.”

  Tiberius turned to me. “There isn’t much between here and the city. Do you know where she would go?”

  I did. I knew exactly where she would go.

  Not waiting, I hurried from the room. My feet pounded on the steps to the bottom. The blonde jolted when I hit the landing and darted past her desk. I was at my car when I realized Tiberius was following me. He rounded the hood and yanked open the passenger side door.

  I paused. “What are you doing?”

  Tiberius ducked into the seat without sparing me a glance.

  “She’s my responsibility,” he called once strapped in.

  I didn’t ask. I wanted to, but there were more important matters that required my attention.

  The stretch of road between the city and the warehouse was lined with forestry, looming trees creating walls on either side. There were several exits, but I didn’t believe Gabby would take any of those, not when she could stick to the shadows of the woods and get straight home. She wouldn’t detour. She wouldn’t risk getting caught in the open. My girl was smart. She would come home to me. I knew that with the same absolute certainty as knowing I needed air to live. The only thing that troubled me was the distance. I didn’t believe she would have made it back in twenty minutes, which meant she was most likely still making her way in the dark. I didn’t like that.