Olivia King, he decided, was resilient. She was a survivor. If all went according to plan, she could carry on dancing afterward, unscathed and unchanged. He was willing to bet his life on it.
When John was satisfied he’d taken enough clear photographs of Olivia’s face, he turned off the camera and noticed the barista eyeing him from behind the counter.
“I’m just visiting the Big Apple,” John said in his most dorky voice, hoping to deflect any suspicion. “This place is the tops!”
The barista, smug in his own hipster coolness, rolled his eyes and turned back to the coffee machine.
John finished his drink and stood up, leaving the paper cup for the kid to collect. He winced as the cotton shirt he was wearing under the blue jacket rubbed against his shoulder, realizing that it had been hours since he’d last applied lotion on his new tattoo. The skin was starting to flake off, which meant that it wouldn’t be long now before the full beauty of the tribal design – and the fitting tribute to his twin brother – would be ready. Natasha was still not aware of the fact that, after all the time he’d spent just talking about completing the final piece of the tattoo, he’d finally had the courage to have it done. Being the only other Maori he knew in the entire city, she would appreciate the significance of such a design, especially since he had deliberately left some room for her on his chest, above his heart, for when she became his wife.
But before everything else, before rings or wedding dresses or babies, he needed to focus on the immediate future. First, he would need to get his money.
12 | FOR THE HAND OF THE LADY
Daniel wore all black as he walked swiftly towards Olivia’s apartment in the chilly New York evening. Technically, he was not on patrol yet, but his balaclava was tucked safely in his pocket should he encounter any disturbances. Now that the sun had set and the glow of their morning together had worn off, his concern for her safety had resurfaced. Until he could take care of the ponytailed drug lord and his minions, he had every intention of escorting Olivia to and from each performance to be safe. When it came to that woman, he just couldn’t take the risk.
He took the stairs slowly when he arrived at the brownstone apartment, but before he reached the top step, a tall, blond man bounded up from behind and reached for the buzzer first.
“Sorry to cut in,” the blond guy said as he pressed a button. “I’m running a little late.”
“Go ahead,” Daniel said, his mind still somewhere far away, upwards to the woman on the seventh floor.
To his surprise, Olivia’s voice came over the intercom. “Yes?”
The blond guy bent down to talk into the intercom. “It’s me, Mei.” And just like that, she buzzed him in. Blond guy pushed on the door, and held it open for Daniel. “You coming in?”
Daniel nodded, unsure of what had just taken place. What the hell? he thought, wondering if it was the same guy who had given her a ride the previous night.
True, he and Olivia had not made plans for before the ballet. And true, they hadn’t even discussed the possibility of exclusivity in their relationship. But he had confided in her his deepest secrets and had allowed himself to be intimate with her; that at least had earned him some license to feel possessive, right?
He entered the building and sped up the stairs, faster than Blondie in the elevator, to get some answers.
“Daniel!” Olivia said in surprise when she answered the door. She glanced around. “But… that wasn’t you on the intercom?”
He fought the overwhelming urge to glower and demand an explanation. She was not his girlfriend to be jealous over. “I just wanted to escort you to the theater,” he said just before the elevator doors swished open and Blondie came strolling out, his hands tucked in his expensive-looking slacks.
“Hey Mei,” he said and gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek, making the heat rise from Daniel’s neck. He shot Daniel a strange look. “Hey, man. Weren’t you just downstairs?”
Daniel stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, wishing he didn’t look like such a schmuck next to the guy. “I took the stairs.”
“Well, let’s not just stand here in the hallway,” Olivia said and ushered both men inside.
This does not look good, Olivia thought as both Alex and Daniel walked into her apartment, all the while casting each other furtive glances. As they stood side by side, she took the opportunity to conduct a quick compare and contrast: Daniel was a few inches shorter than Alex, but was sturdier in build. Whereas Alex was the lithe, Nordic swimmer, Daniel was the All-American beefcake football player. Alex was the more classically attractive of the two, having graced billboards in Times Square many times, but Daniel’s brooding good looks exuded a raw male sexuality of which she had firsthand knowledge.
The thought of her morning with Daniel suddenly sent a tingle of excitement shooting through her body, raising goosebumps on her arms.
Alex took a step forward. “Mei?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” she said, finally turning her attention to the discomfiture in the room. “Daniel Johnson, this is my friend Alex Dahlgren. Alex, Daniel.”
The men shook hands and exchanged stiff pleasantries as they silently sized each other up.
“Alex and I go way back,” she said, trying to read an emotion, any emotion, on Daniel’s stony face. “He recently moved back here from Sweden.”
“I’m taking her to the theater,” Alex said, flashing his blinding smile, his casual stance speaking volumes about his unshakable confidence. She had never, in their entire friendship, seen him display nerves. “Are you almost ready?”
“Almost.” She hurried to the bedroom to fetch her overnight bag, unwilling to leave both men alone too long lest the levels of testosterone reach critical mass and explode. “Daniel, did you want to ride with us?” she asked upon her return.
Alex gave her a quick shake of the head. “Sorry, Mei, I have no room. We still have to pick up India and BJ.”
Daniel shrugged and moved towards the door. “No, I’m good.” He looked at her pointedly. “I’ll walk.”
“Hold on,” she said to Alex then followed Daniel out into the hall, closing the door soundly behind her. “Daniel,” she began, unsure of what to say. She felt like an apology was in order, but for what? For having a past?
He looked at her, a frown etched into his forehead. “I should have called.”
She stepped into his arms and breathed in his fresh, soapy scent. “I missed you,” she whispered into his ear, resisting the urge to bite his lobe.
“Are you sure about that?”
“He’s just a friend, Daniel,” she said, standing on tiptoe to look him straight in the eye. “But you… you’re more than that. You’re…”
“We don’t need labels. We’re not in high school anymore.”
“Well then let’s forgo the formalities and just tell it like it is,” she said matter-of-fact. “I have no plans of seeing anybody else but you. Is that also your intention?”
His grey eyes held hers. “Yes,” he said, then added, “Dating one woman is complicated enough.” With a hint of a smile, he bent his head and kissed Olivia thoroughly.
Olivia’s head was still swimming in desire after Daniel left, and she jumped when Alex came from behind. “Ready?” he said, holding out her overnight bag.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself together and nodded.
Daniel walked towards the Lincoln Center in a foul mood, still frustrated from the surprise appearance of Blondie. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this new guy; he seemed nice enough but definitely could not be trusted around Olivia. Daniel had seen Blondie’s eyes following her every move, all the while acting nonchalant in his designer clothes and four hundred-dollar haircut. Daniel couldn’t read minds, but he really didn’t have to; Blondie’s intentions were as clear as day.
As Daniel passed through a rough part of town, he came across a sex store – the type so offensive the windows were painted black – and noticed a kid of abo
ut seventeen staring intently at its front door. Daniel watched in amazement as the kid stepped forward and just as it looked like he would hit the door, his entire body passed from sight. Daniel blinked furiously, questioning what he’d just witnessed. He ran to the door and pressed his face to the glass, hoping to see through the thick black paint. The next moment, he was nudged backwards as the kid surfaced from the door like a carved relief coming to life.
“Oof!” The kid was startled to make contact with Daniel and a black box slipped out of his hands.
With his quick reflexes, Daniel caught the package. A flush rose to his neck as he studied what was in his hands: a blow-up doll box with a large label touting the doll’s four realistic orifices. “What’s this?” he said in disgust, silently contemplating the location of the fourth orifice.
The kid, who had acne and greasy hair, grabbed the package out of Daniel’s hands and held it protectively against his chest. “Dude, go get your own.”
“Wait,” Daniel said, grabbing the kid’s arm. “How did you do that?”
“Just a trick I’ve been working on. Wanna see it again?” he said and took a step backward, sinking halfway into the door.
“No, hang on…” He reached out to grab the kid, but his hand connected with only the blackened glass.
13 | THE CHAMPIONS’ DUEL
“So that’s the guy, huh?” Alex said as he drove through the busy Manhattan traffic, one hand laying casually on the steering wheel, the other on the stick shift. He glanced at Olivia sideways.
“Yes, that’s the guy,” she said then realized they’d just passed 69th Street. “I thought we were picking up India and BJ?”
Alex bit back a shameful grin. “Sorry, that was a bit of truth-stretching on my part,” he said, giving her a look of boyish repentance.
“Still the same old Alex,” she said with a shake of the head.
Her words cut him to the quick. The time spent in Sweden, away from the party lifestyle and away from Olivia, had changed him. He liked to think that he had grown as a person, and just because he’d told a small lie (minute really, in the grand scheme of things) in order to have her to himself, did not mean he was the same guy he’d left behind in New York. He had grown as a person, and so too, had his feelings for her.
As he fumed, he recalled the first time he’d come to realize he even liked her, during a friend’s New Year’s Eve party a few years ago…
“Hey,” he said when he realized Olivia was standing beside him at the bar. They had only known each other a short while, but in that time, he had developed quite the fascination with her. She was that elusive kind of girl who seemed to date a lot but was never quite within reach. To someone like Alex, she was the kind of challenge he enjoyed conquering. “What are you drinking?”
She held up a martini glass with her delicate fingers and took a sip of the crimson liquid. “Manhattan.” She cocked her head as she gave him the once-over. “If you don’t mind my saying, you look much smaller in person. At least, compared to your billboard on Times Square.”
He laughed and immediately found a retort. “Ah, but not all of me is smaller than that billboard,” he said, casting a suggestive look downward.
“So I hear.” She chuckled and turned away, scanning the drunken crowd in the room.
He leaned against the bar and took the opportunity to study her profile, visually tracing over the contours of her lips. “Oh? What exactly have you heard?”
She turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. “Just that you’re a player who collects women like cars. Is that true?”
“I don’t collect women. I just happen to be a big fan of your species,” he said then added, “Besides, I’ve heard the same about you.”
Her eyebrows furrowed and she set her glass down on the bar. “Really? I don’t think I’m anywhere near as prolific as you.”
“Do you want to be?”
He winked and she burst out laughing, finally shedding her cool exterior. “Okay, so you’re funny too. Does that line actually work on women?”
“For the most part,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he smiled. He couldn’t help himself; he was thoroughly enamored. He would stand beside her all night and exchange witty banter if only to get under her skin, like she had already burrowed under his.
Alex’s mood lifted at the memory. She had been lovely then, but tonight, with her long hair framing her face in waves, she was absolutely glowing. He couldn’t believe how long he had tried to deny his feelings for her. For years they had danced along the fine edge of lust and love, and he was finally ready to take the leap. The trouble, now, lay in convincing Olivia to take his hand and jump with him.
“I don’t know what you see in that guy,” he said as he made the turn into the Lincoln Center Garage.
“You wouldn’t. You’re not into men.”
“Yes, but I can appreciate when a man is good-looking.”
“Not in this case, apparently.”
“He’s okay-looking, I guess. If you like that scruffy, grumpy look.”
“I do.”
Keeping his eyes firmly pointed forward, he said, “Do you ever think about us? Like what it would have been like if we had gotten our act together and had a relationship?”
He felt her gaze on his face and had a fleeting hope that she would suddenly see the light. But the possibilities were dashed quickly when she said, “That’s the thing though, Alex, we just couldn’t get our act together. It would never have worked, and we might be bitter exes now instead of friends.”
“So… yes then?” he teased with a flirty grin then added softly, “We have our acts together now.”
“Yes, but now I’m with Daniel.” She patted his hand, a show of pity that just about killed him. With a tense jaw, he removed his hand from under hers.
Alex, you’re a fool, he told himself. Now you’ve managed to reduce yourself to a pathetic, groveling moron.
As soon as he pulled into a parking spot, she opened the door and stepped out before he could tell her where to stick her pity. She was bending down to retrieve her bags when a pair of hands stole around her waist and she was jerked away from view.
“Mei!” In his haste, Alex got tangled in the seatbelt as he scrambled out of the car. By the time he was free, he heard the squeal of tires and saw a black van peeling out of the garage.
“Stop!” he shouted desperately, sprinting after the van as fast as his loafers could take him. But as fit as he was, he was no match for a speeding vehicle and soon fell behind. He ran out to the street and finally had to stop, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath.
Daniel was rounding the corner to the parking garage when he heard the screech of the tires before he saw the van come screaming out of the exit. The alarm bells rang in his head and his body tensed, ready to leap into action.
Suddenly, Blondie came running out of the garage, calling out, “Stop!” after the van that had disappeared onto the main road.
“Alex!” Daniel said, running towards the panting man. “What happened? Where is she?”
Alex’s looked down the street before focusing on Daniel’s face. “They took her!” he said frantically, pulling a phone out of his jacket pocket and dialing with shaking fingers. “They’ve got Mei!”
Daniel did not need to hear more. He took off after the van like a rocket.
* * * * *
“Let me go!” Olivia shouted as a man with a stark white mask held her head down, her cheek pressing painfully onto the cold metal floor of the van, and bound her wrists with some duct tape. “Help!” she screamed, her legs thrashing about, hoping to make a connection with the man’s face or, better yet, his crotch. But a moment later, her ankles too were bound together with no small amount of brutality.
“Just shut up!” the man said, pulling on her hair so that her neck was arching painfully. “You be a good little girl,” the man said, his mask so close to her face she could smell his minty breath. “Or my compadre over there will not hesitat
e to kill you. Got me?”
The driver turned around to face her for a split second, and the vacant stare of his white mask frightened her more than she thought possible. Choking back a sob, she nodded.
“Close your eyes,” he said and as she complied, a lone tear squeezed out. A moment later, duct-tape was applied over her eyes and her mouth.
Only when she felt the man move away from her was she able to breathe.
“Yes, we’ve got her. We’re on our way,” she heard him say.
She took several deep breaths, trying to calm the rising hysteria from within her chest, trying to think of reasons why anyone would want to kidnap her. If it had happened a month ago, she would have immediately thought of extortionists out to get her father’s money, but Daniel and his ponytailed killer were now in the mix.
For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why a drug lord would want Daniel so badly that they would kidnap her as collateral. Did they know about his special abilities?
“We’re here,” said someone with a southern drawl, the driver she presumed, a few seconds before the vehicle came to a stop and the engine died.
Her heart thudded wildly as she listened to the men’s footsteps echoing outside as they approached the back of the van.
Keep it together, Olivia! Keep your composure, or at the very least, fake it, she told herself sternly. If she learned anything from all those cop shows, it was that nothing good could happen if she lost her cool.
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