Abducted

by K. I. Lynn

  I stared down at the locket, tempted to open it up and look at her picture. “She killed herself after making me promise to get out. I think she hoped my father would grieve and it would give me a chance to escape, but it didn’t work. He became a tyrant, and I was guarded every minute of the day.”

  “How did you get away?” he asked.

  Not without help and careful planning. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Months of prepping. “I went to the mall, slipped my guards by telling a store attendant while in the dressing room that they were stalking me. While security questioned them, she snuck me out the back. I left my phone in the dressing room and my wallet, along with a bracelet my father insisted I always wear. I could never confirm it, but I think it had a tracking device in it.”

  He nodded. “It probably did. Then what?”

  I closed my book and sat up to face him. “I hitched a ride with some guy out smoking. Holed up in a hotel for a few days. I was out but constantly on edge that they were going to find me, so I moved to the South Side, and that is where I met Al. He hired me and helped me find a temporary place to live, and the rest is history.”

  “That’s all you’ve done? Strip?”

  I shrugged. “There weren’t many other options. I lived for myself for the first time in my life. I made my own money, paid my own bills, and looked out for myself. Yes, I was always looking over my shoulder, but even that lessened. At least until a year ago when two guards showed up trying to tow me home.”

  His brow scrunched. “Are you sure they were sent by your father?”

  “Who else?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure, but when we spoke he made it sound like he’d just found you. There was little time given, just two days, to get you into that cell. He was practically frantic about it, which was only one reason you were different.”

  Frantic. The only reason he would be frantic was to have me under his control again. I was worth something to him, but I had a feeling love had nothing to do with it. “I have no idea what he wants and why he can’t just let me go.”

  “Because…you belong to the family.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “You did then, and you especially do now,” he said as he reached out to lightly caress the letters that lined my collarbone.

  “Even if we’re on the run from them?” I asked.

  “I have a few ideas brewing.”

  Ideas. For days, that was all he would tell me. He kept his phone charged and close, occasionally typing something on the screen.

  I just wished he would fill me in, tell me something.

  “Let’s do some exercises,” he said as he swung his legs off the bed.

  We began working out together once I had energy again, because I needed to build my muscles and range of motion back up. I think it was more for me than him. A therapy of sorts after weeks of neglect.

  It was amazing the kind of workouts you could come up with lacking any type of equipment, like him bench-pressing me. Pushups, sit-ups, yoga, burpees—we did them.

  Whatever we could to get some physical exercise in, including lots of sex, which was where most workouts led.

  By day nine, we were both a little stir crazy. While I was happy for temperature control and showers and clean clothes, the room had become another cage.

  I’d finished all the books I’d managed to grab, and I was ready for something, anything, to end our purgatory. Because that was what we were in. Trapped between the life we ran from and the next phase, whatever that was.

  “What about the diner across the street?” I asked as I packed my bag. Domenico wanted all bags ready to go just in case, which was a wise idea.

  “What about it?”

  I was desperate to get out, to walk more than the path I’d created around the room.

  “It’s close and would get us out of here for a few minutes. Breathe some fresh air.”

  “I think we need to move. We’ve been here too long.” It was the first time he talked about our next step, but there still didn’t seem to be a plan.

  “Where are we going now?” I asked. As crazy as it seemed, I would follow him anywhere. My feelings for him grew deeper every day, but I knew there were still secrets we were both carrying.

  I’d given up one secret that changed everything he understood about me, and the other one was just as bad. His? In my gut, I knew his secret was just as powerful as mine. Everything about him screamed power, but there was also the softer side. Dark and turbulent to everyone, he was nothing but intense and caring with me.

  Which was just another reason I was falling hard for him.

  “Out of this city for now.”

  “They’ll never stop looking for us, will they?” I asked. I knew from experience.

  He shook his head. “And I stand out too much.”

  Between his scar and the red and black that covered his left arm, not to mention all the other ink that covered his skin, he was very recognizable.

  “Why are we biding our time?” I asked. It seemed odd that we’d been just sitting on our hands for over a week.

  “I’ve got Marco working on something. I’m just waiting for word.”

  I pursed my lips. After everything, he still had trouble opening up. In reality, I knew what it meant—he didn’t fully trust me. That was something we would both have until all the secrets came spilling out. Until the truth that weighed us both down was revealed.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure it’s an idea you’d like, and still not one I’m sure we’d survive.”

  I patted my bags. “Well, I’m ready, but I’m also hungry. Why don’t you get the car out, and I’ll grab some food.”

  He stared at me for a few beats but said nothing. I stepped forward and fisted his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him. “You’re stuck with me. I’ve just been eyeing the stupid chicken sandwich on that flyer for a week.” I pointed to one of the flyers he’d found tucked in a drawer. He’d ordered from a few places but not from there because they didn’t deliver.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going out there without me.”

  “You just admitted you’re conspicuous. I can slide in there, blend in. Think about it this way—I’ve spent the last three years avoiding Ferrante’s men.”

  After a minute, he finally growled before pulling me flush to him and slamming his lips to mine. “Fine, but let me get the car out first.”

  I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to press my lips to his. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He pulled me tighter, his lips running up the column of my neck. “I’ll go get the car, and keep it in the back lot.”

  He released me and threw on his hoodie, flipping the hood up to obstruct the view of his scars before slipping on his jacket. He grabbed the bags and took one last look out the window. “I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded and watched him leave. When the door latched, I felt a pang in my chest. After everything, I didn’t like being separated from him.

  While he was gone, I threw my hair up into a messy bun and slipped on my jacket, which had thankfully been packed. I searched the room for anything else and noticed his phone charger still plugged in. I pulled it and spun it up before stuffing it in my pocket.

  Peeking out the window, I could see the diner was still fairly empty, which was good. I’d hopefully be able to get in and out in a few minutes.

  The door opened, and Domenico immediately searched me out. His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me close. I melted into his embrace, astonished how much my anxiety had risen while he was gone. By the way he held me, I had a feeling it was the same for him.

  It amazed me that someone like him could be so affectionate. It was like he was starving for a loving touch, and I had no problem giving it to him.

  “Be careful,” he said as he pulled back. The tic of his jaw told me how much he didn’t like this plan.


  “I’ll be right back,” I reassured him, rubbing my hand around his chest.

  He nodded. “The car is in the back lot, but I’ll be in the front watching.”

  I nodded. “Red meat or white?” His brow quirked as he stared down at me. “For your sandwich.”

  His lips twitched up into that half smirk, the right side never lifting as far. “Red. Always red.”

  I nodded and twisted the door handle, giving him one last look as I stepped out.

  My first steps past the threshold were the first I’d taken on my own in a month. There had always been someone pulling me along, or Domenico right beside me. It was freedom I didn’t realize I missed.

  And each step was frightening on a level I wasn’t expecting. For so long my adrenaline had been in the forefront, but in the last few days it had receded. The gap that grew between us had it spiking to unfathomable levels.

  I was stepping out of the safety of his reach.

  I crossed the street with no fanfare but jumped when a bell chimed when I opened the door. Thankfully nobody seemed to pay attention, and I grabbed a seat at the counter.

  “Evening, hun,” a friendly waitress said as she handed me a menu. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “I’m going to order to-go, so can I get a Coke in a to-go cup?”

  She gave me a smile. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll go grab that, and you take a look at the menu.”

  It felt so good to be out and around people again. People whose smiles were genuine.

  Erica, as her name tag read, set a cup down in front of me a minute later, drawing my attention from the menu. “Ready?”

  I nodded. “Can I get the buffalo chicken sandwich with blue cheese and extra buffalo sauce, with fries?”

  “Sure can. Anything else?”

  I scanned the menu. “Can I also get the steak sandwich, fries as well, please?”

  “Can do. That it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” My last-minute perusal landed me at the bottom in the desserts section. When was the last time I had anything sweet that wasn’t a drink?

  The memory of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich entered my mind, but I shook it off.

  She let out a small chuckle. “You’re eyeing that cake, aren’t you?”

  I smiled and nodded, a bit embarrassed. “Can I get one of those as well?”

  “No problem. Should be ten to fifteen minutes.”

  “Perfect,” I said with a smile.

  The news was playing on an old TV in the corner, which served only to remind me how much time had passed. It didn’t really matter to me, but I did wonder if anyone had reported me missing. I searched through my Louis Vuitton but my phone wasn’t there. Another thing that didn’t matter. It was a cheap pay-as-you-go phone that had served its purpose.

  There were no photos on it and only a small handful of numbers. Just another reminder of how, while free, I was isolated. Nobody could know who I was. Nothing could link to who I really was. I had no social media. No photos were allowed in the club.

  Once, I’d let Mac take my picture, but my hands were covering my face.

  “Why don’t you want your picture taken?”

  “Because they can figure out where I am.”

  His brow scrunched. “Who?”

  “The men in suits.”

  He quirked a brow at me. “Are they white suits? Do they have a jacket with really long sleeves they want you to wear?”

  I smacked his chest. “I just don’t like it, you ass.”

  “Speaking of ass,” he said with a wicked grin before picking me up and tossing me onto the bed. I giggled when he jumped on me.

  Mac didn’t think it was real. He thought I was playing around.

  In the end, it didn’t matter because they found me anyway.

  Which led me to another thought—would I have met Domenico if I’d stayed? I was fairly certain we’d gone to the same private school, but it was obvious he was older than my twenty-two.

  In a few short weeks, I’d completely fallen for him. The last week alone was the best week I’d had in years. We’d gotten to know each other more, and the attraction was insane. He was comfort and strength and everything I needed. The surge of emotions that filled me was unlike anything I’d ever encountered.

  The bell rang and I froze, suddenly realizing my error—my back was to the door.

  Rowdy voices filled the quiet hum of the restaurant. I didn’t turn, keeping my eyes forward, but I noticed the shake begin in my hands.

  The voices were familiar, and I swallowed hard. My heart hammered. Thankfully there was a man sitting two stools down, mostly blocking me from their view.

  They’d found us. Fuck. They’d found us.

  I wanted to bolt, to leave, but that would only cause a commotion and draw attention to me. I sat still, quietly sipping on my Coke as I listened in.

  “We gotta be close,” one man said.

  “That driver said he delivered to that motel a week ago.” The blood froze in my veins. That voice I knew. That voice that I’d believe belonged to a caring man, but I was freed of that delusion. I knew the truth—Roman wasn’t good or decent. He was vile and evil.

  “Would he really stay in the same place that long?” one of them asked. “I don’t see his car.”

  “He may have ditched the car,” another voice said.

  “His Mustang? He loves that car.”

  They were all voices I recognized, though I couldn’t put names to them. Leering eyes were another thing.

  My breath was coming out in stuttered chatters, and I jumped when Erica set a bag down in front of me.

  “That’ll be twenty-two eighty-one,” she said.

  I nodded, wide eyed as I set the two twenties down. “Keep the change,” I said quietly.

  She blinked at me. “You sure?”

  I nodded and gave her a strained smile as I picked up the bags. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you, hun.” She grinned.

  I made sure to turn away from the group and that my steps were even and slow. I cast a side-eye glance at the table as I passed through the door, I then quickly bolted back toward the motel.

  Domenico sat in the motel parking lot, resting against the brick exterior, and I ran full out toward him. He straightened and ran to meet me as soon as I crossed the street.

  When he reached me, his arm swung out, sweeping me behind him and sending the bags of food to the ground.

  I knew then it was too late. Roman had seen me. Even more, I realized it was probably because I’d said “Thank you” to Erica. If I hadn’t, I might not have caught his attention.

  He pulled his gun out. “Get to the car,” he hissed.

  I was frozen to the spot and unable to move.

  “Ah, there you are, Domenico,” Roman called from across the street.

  “Roman,” Domenico growled.

  Looking around Domenico’s shoulder at Roman, I no longer saw the gentle face and kind soul he portrayed. His boyish features had a devilish hue, his smile a grim foreboding. The twinkle in his eyes had morphed from friendly to fiendish.

  “You ran away with our toy.”

  “Your toy?” Domenico shook his head. “No, my toy. Even has my name on it.”

  Roman shrugged. “You ran off with my father’s—the boss’s—property. She’s worth more than you know.”

  Worst of all—by that wicked gleam in Roman’s eye, he knew.

  Roman knew all my secrets, and he was taunting Domenico with that knowledge.

  “Ari is mine.”

  Roman shook his head. “No, she’s mine.”

  “Over my cold, dead body.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Sirens rang out, a flash of blue and red, making everyone stow their guns. Taking it as the opportunity to run, Domenico grabbed my hand and pulled. I spun around in time to watch the cop car speed by and see one of the guys run toward us as the others split up and climbed into two cars.

  I still wasn�
�t strong enough or fast enough, and we were almost to the car when a hand wrapped around my arm. A scream burst from me and Domenico spun around, his fist connecting with the man who had hold of me. Two powerful hits, and his grip loosened and he fell to the ground.

  The second we were both in the car he had it in gear, and we sped off. I pulled on my seatbelt as we bounced onto the street, barely missing another car.

  It wasn’t far when he turned into an alley, and I stared into the rearview mirror, watching for anyone following.

  A car suddenly appeared from a side street, and I screamed when the back window exploded.

  “It’s okay!” he yelled as he slammed his foot on the gas, propelling us down the alley.

  I wasn’t sure where the other car was, but I hoped we’d lost them. Twists and sudden turns rocked me back and forth in the seat. My hold on the door handle was white-knuckled as I held on for dear life, hoping to lose them, to stop the horror.

  The Mustang lived up to its reputation, the engine roaring with each press to the gas, propelling us down the road.

  More explosions blasted the car, and I shrank into the seat as I glanced at the side mirror. Roman hung out the passenger window, firing off another round of shots, though only a few hit the car.

  “Make a hard left,” I said as I watched him lean out the window again.

  Domenico kept his foot on the gas, then shifted. I slammed against the door at the sudden move, then was shoved back into the seat from the acceleration. The move left the car behind us struggling to follow, and we put some distance between us and them.

  We were finally getting away from them when a sudden jolt rocked through me as the whole car jerked to the right.

  “Fuck,” Domenico hissed as he regained control.

  The first car we’d lost reappeared and sideswiped us. My eyes were wide as I stared out the window. I flinched back, drawing in a sharp breath as the glass in front of me shattered but didn’t break.

  My heart hammered as I realized it would have hit me.

  The car was bulletproof. That was why the back window didn’t shatter. That was why he said it was okay.