Claiming Amelia

by Jessica Blake

  “Name’s Tim, in case you’re wondering, Amelia,” he said, all bluster. “I work for Mr. Duffy, and it turns out your brother’s a damn thief and a liar. He owes us a lot of money, and it seems that the only way Mr. Duffy’s going to get his investment back is by using you as bait. No hard feelings, right?”

  I didn’t panic. Not yet. Instead, I screamed for all I was worth, hoping there might be someone outside, maybe walking their annoying little dog on the sidewalk who might hear me and at least call the cops.

  I didn’t have long though. As soon as I started, a large hand wrapped around my mouth and pain exploded at the back of my head, and I didn’t remember anything else.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Declan

  “You’re not going to help her if you’re not thinking straight,” Brennan yelled in my face, shoving me against the wall of my living room. Things fell from their places around me, shattering on the floor, but all I could think about was the fucking text message I’d received an hour ago.

  We have Amelia. Call the cops, and we’ll kill her and her brother and send you the video. Get a million in cash ready and wait for instructions.

  The picture that followed had nearly brought me to my knees. Amelia, bound up, gagged, and unconscious next to her piece of shit brother, who looked to be in worse shape than she was.

  Brennan was the first person I called and let him forward everything to the police who were working with Ford.

  “It just speeds everything up, Declan,” he said. “Don’t freak-out. They’re coming up with a plan, and we’ll get her back, unharmed.”

  I was glad Brennan sounded convinced because I was losing my fucking mind. I’d punched a couple holes in the wall and upturned my sofa all before Brennan arrived.

  “They’re not using local cops,” Brennan reported after taking a phone call in the kitchen. “There’s no way they’ll know what we’re up to, okay? Even if they have ears in the local precinct and all over the D.A.’s office, Ford will know how to get her out without tipping them off.”

  I had to believe his words, because if I didn’t, I’d go fucking mindless with anger and fear.

  “I feel helpless, Brennan.” The words choked from my lips. “I can’t stand feeling like this. I’m going to go fucking crazy if we don’t do something now.”

  “I get it, man,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “I want her back safe too. And we’ll do it. If I have to go in myself and break every bone in the place, we’ll get her back safe and sound.”

  I nodded at his promise. There was nothing else I could do.

  True to their fucking word, another text came two hours later with a location for the drop-off. I was to arrive alone with a suitcase and walk into a nondescript warehouse.

  Right. Like I was a fucking moron.

  But I let them think they had me scared and powerless. It was better that way.

  The drive to the warehouse was quiet. I was alone, as ordered, and Brennan and his team were tracking my every movement. From the north, unmarked vehicles were bringing in a tactical team from Brockton and one from Falmouth. I had a wire on me, and the minute I said I had my hands on Amelia, I was to get the hell out of the warehouse as fast as possible.

  My hope? They’d be idiots and try to make some ridiculous last stand and go out in a hail of bullets. I didn’t think they were brave enough, but one could hope.

  I parked where they told me to park and waited for the phone call.

  “Walk inside the gray door with the light above it, Casey,” a voice said, skipping the greeting.

  I got out of the car with the briefcase and walked toward the door I was expected to walk through. I knew this was some sort of trap, knew they were going to play me for a fool, but I also knew that Amelia was on the other side and I’d play their little game as long as I needed to.

  As I approached the door, the voice was back on the phone.

  “Don’t do anything stupid when you walk in,” the gravely voice said. “We’ve got guns on you and her. Remember that.”

  I wanted to call them cowards and pussies but bit my tongue. “I’ll remember.”

  I’d also remember every scratch, bruise, nick, and tear they caused Amelia and find a way to pay them all back with interest.

  The building was dark on the inside, large and empty, save for a weak, single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The place was a damn empty cavern and every step I took clicked and reverberated through the space.

  In the wane wash of light, I saw two figures in folding chairs, and I had to fight to keep from running the moment I recognized Amelia’s dark hair falling to the side. Slowly, I paced myself and kept my steps even.

  When I’d just reached the circle of light, a voice called out, “That’s far enough.”

  I stopped, my eyes on Amelia, who’d looked up as I approached. A fresh wave of tears lit up in her eyes, and it nearly broke me. She was terrified.

  I took in the damage to her as best I could, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth squeaked. A little bruising around her hairline, blood on the corner of her mouth, maybe a knock on her cheek too.

  It could have been better, but it also could have been a lot worse, looking at her brother next to her. JJ’s eyes were both swollen shut, and his nose was toast. It was no longer bleeding and was now crusted over, but the thing was broken in at least three places. His lips were bloody, and it sounded like he was having a hard time breathing. He was probably lucky he was unconscious.

  Someone appeared at my right and ripped the briefcase from my hand before disappearing back into the shadows without me seeing any faces. Cowards.

  “We’re verifying that you weren’t followed,” the voice from earlier said. “You know the deal. We find out you were, we fucking end you.”

  Whoever was talking was somewhere on the second floor, standing in the dark on one of the catwalks that surrounded the open floor of the first level.

  Footsteps sounded from behind Amelia, and I watched someone slowly, dramatically walk into the light.

  I knew right away who the fucker was — Jake Duffy.

  “Nice work, Duffy,” I said. “Making a cool million without doing a damn thing. Gotta commend you.”

  In his mid-forties, the asshole was slender and tall, probably as tall as me. His dark hair was greasy and fell in his eyes, and he wore khakis and a sweatshirt. From the looks of him, the guy was probably hooked on his own drugs. His face was off-color and shrunken around the cheekbones and eyes.

  “Appreciate it,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “Thanks to your girlfriend’s brother, we got ourselves a nice little industry all over town that was working pretty well. Until he started to sample the wares a little freely and lost one shipment entirely.”

  He used air quotes with the word lost. It wasn’t anything Amelia and I didn’t already guess, though.

  He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants, leaning back on his heels. “Figured the best way he could repay us was to use his connections to the biggest name from the old neighborhood and get us a little vested interested in your business.”

  “You’ve got your money,” I said, pointing vaguely in the direction that the suitcase had been taken.

  Duffy snorted. “Down payment. We’ll let you know when we need the next installment.”

  I frowned at him and took a half step closer to Amelia. “Why would I do that?”

  “She’s got a sick dad, a mom she cares about,” he said, shrugging. “You got a mom of your own. Brothers. A little sister. See what I’m saying here? It’s wise to keep us happy. Unless the bitch doesn’t mean that much to you? In which case we can find other ways to pay off her brother’s debt.”

  “Don’t speak about my fiancée like that, Duffy,” I growled. Even in the position she was in, I saw that Amelia had heard me and I tried not to laugh when she frowned at me. “It won’t end well if you do.”

  The guy laughed at me, giving me a slow clap.

  “Still trying to
impress her with your white knight act? Bravo, Casey. But watch your mouth around me, or I’ll ruin you and everyone you fucking care about. And their families too.”

  The moron was talking like he was some cartel operation that had the manpower to actually accomplish all that intimidation. What he really had was about a dozen goons and a smarmy assistant D.A. who wasn’t good enough at what he did to not give himself away.

  “All good, boss,” the voice from upstairs said. I didn’t know if he meant the money or the fact that it appeared I’d come alone. But it didn’t matter.

  Duffy made a little “shooing” motion with his hand, indicating that it was time for me to take Amelia and go.

  I didn’t hesitate in scooping her up from the chair and turning. I hoped with everything in me that I wasn’t about to get shot in the back as I made my way to the door with her in my arms, and was relieved when I made it, my hand on the doorknob.

  “Fiancée, huh?” she whispered against my chest, and I laughed.

  “I know how to make an impression with you, don’t I?”

  “Are we leaving JJ?”

  Despite everything, my tenderhearted girl was still worried about the same shithead who’d gotten us all in the mess. And I loved her for it.

  “Help is on the way,” I said quietly, also the magic words the people listening in on my wire needed.

  I kicked the door closed behind me and kept my pace normal, despite wanting to run as fast as my legs would carry me to the car to get her the hell out of there before the shit started.

  “I love you.”

  I almost stopped, almost dropped to my knees at the words. I kissed her hair and kept going, getting her to safety. “I love you too.”

  As shitty as this day was, three little words had made me happy. Amelia had made me happy.

  And I’d spend the rest of my life making her happy too.

  ***

  “Nobody dead? Nobody injured?”

  I asked in disbelief, not because I’d wanted anybody hurt. I was just certain the morons were going to make some kind of stand to prove themselves.

  But no. According to Brennan, they’d all laid on the floor and pushed their weapons away from them the moment the first swat team busted in the back door.

  There’d been eight men total, including Jake Duffy, collected at the warehouse last night. Bryan Duffy and Gentry James, along with a couple of their own thugs, were picked up in the wee hours of the morning and booked on assault and drug trafficking charges like the rest of them.

  “JJ’s going to be charged too,” I said to Amelia, who had showered but wanted to stay up for news of her brother.

  I thought she’d be upset, but honest to god, she looked relieved.

  “He’ll clean up in prison, hopefully,” she said, her fingers wringing together. “Out here, he’ll just do more dumb shit.”

  She was right. A light prison sentence, which was most likely what he would get, would be the best thing for him.

  I pulled her against me after the last of my people left my apartment with the news and carried her to bed.

  “I was serious about the fiancée thing, Amelia,” I whispered as I sat her down.

  “I know you are.” Wasn’t quite the reaction I expected, but I’d take it. She placed a hand on my cheek. “I have some things I need to work out first,” she said as she closed her eyes, succumbing to the exhaustion evident on her face. “But we’ll get there.”

  She was asleep almost instantly and didn’t hear my chuckle.

  Damn right we’d get there.

  I’d been successful in claiming Amelia. Now, I’d damn well make it official.

  I’d have it no other way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Amelia

  I had a future to plan. And before I could give everything to Declan, which I would, I had a couple items on my to-do list that I still needed to do.

  Which was why I was packing up my suitcase a month and a half after the kidnapping debacle. My class in California started in a few days, and I needed to check into the villa that Chef Santiago housed her students in.

  Declan was a miserable baby, to be honest. He kept grabbing the giant rock on my ring finger and analyzing it. “You need a bigger stone,” he complained. “This one doesn’t say taken fast enough.”

  I laughed. He’d proposed a few weeks after the dust settled and the trial dates had been set for later this summer. I had plenty of time to do my training and be back in Boston for the first part of the rest of my life.

  “Any bigger and you’re going to get me mugged,” I teased, throwing a pillow at him.

  He froze, his mind working something out.

  “What?” I asked, immediately worried.

  “Nothing.” He straightened the ring until it was perfectly aligned on my finger. “Just working out which of my men I’m going to send to California with you.”

  That got me laughing.

  “You’re not the president, and I don’t need Secret Service,” I said. “But I appreciate the concern. I’ll be back in six weeks, and we can plan that dream wedding we’ve talked about.”

  He shook his head. “I call bullshit. You’ll be planning your dream restaurant and forget all about promising to marry me.”

  I grinned. Things were changing so fast in my life that I should have been worried. But I wasn’t. My parents had returned from the cancer center two weeks ago, ahead of schedule because of Pop’s good response to the surgery and the treatment and would be there to see me off to California.

  “I’ll never forget that promise, Declan Casey,” I said, moving to sit in my big, bad billionaire’s lap. “I’ll marry you as soon as you want when I get back. I’ll marry you before the restaurant if that’s what you want. You know me, I don’t need a fancy wedding. I just need you.”

  “Say it,” he whispered into my hair, and he didn’t need to explain. I knew what he wanted to hear, and he’d been asking me to say it constantly, ever since I first whispered the words as he carried me out of that warehouse.

  “I love you,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

  “Say it again,” he said, squeezing his arms tighter around me.

  “I. Love. You.” I enunciated each word.

  He kissed my cheek. “I know.”

  ***

  The space was perfect. I knew it the first time I walked in there with Declan to meet with a prospective renter — the obnoxious know-it-all who’d already launched fourteen franchises and wanted to make another monstrosity out of The Capstone development project at Columbia Point.

  But in the end, he didn’t get the space.

  I did.

  Along with two business partners who would help me build my dream.

  One of my business partners was going to be my husband in three months, the same month the doors would open to my own personal dream.

  And the other partner? He was a grumpy second-in-command who had a fortune squirreled away in some mattress somewhere where he’d been just waiting to go into business himself.

  Brennan came walking out of the kitchen, his face red.

  “They’re behind schedule,” he said, surly as hell. The work crew was creating a buildout that would house a state-of-the-art gas range and warming rack and industrial hood vent system. But the machinery needed to cut the hole in the wall had taken longer than expected to arrive.

  “I still need to go train,” I reminded Brennan. “The place will be ready before I even get back from California, and even then, we still have six weeks to open.”

  He just grumbled about missed deadlines and disappeared back into the kitchen. He certainly wasn’t a silent partner. Amazingly, though, he had a hidden passion for food service and plenty of good ideas. Declan didn’t know food service, but he knew good food and was a willing guinea pig every night in his kitchen while I “auditioned” new dishes I wanted to try.

  He gave me constructive criticism between sloppy kisses and generally distracted the shit out of me.
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  That night, he sent me off in the best possible way — a few rounds in the sheets and a couple mindblowing orgasms. He said he wanted to give me a few things to think about while I was away. He accomplished that and so much more.

  The next morning, we were at the airport two hours ahead of time. I’d packed light and kept the rest of my things at Declan’s, completely moved out of my parents’ house.

  “Call me,” my mother said, sniffling. “Oh, I feel like we just got you back to Boston and you’re already on your way out.”

  “Six weeks, Mom,” I reminded her. “And then I’ll be here permanently.”

  She nodded through her tears.

  “And besides,” I reminded her. “Who’s in the process of buying a summer condo in Myrtle Beach?”

  She smiled sheepishly. “It’s for your father’s health, of course. He needs to go back every year at least, and it’ll give us a nice place to stay.”

  I didn’t roll my eyes at her, though I wanted to. The truth was, they’d both had such a great time, despite the cancer treatment and stress, that they wanted a place of their own to visit more often.

  “Kick some ass, sunshine,” my father said as he pulled me into a hug. He was skinnier than he was before he’d gone to treatment, but it was because the cancer had scared some life changes into him. He worked reasonable hours now, ate more salads, hit the gym every morning at six a.m., and walked my mother’s dogs with her every night after dinner.

  “I will, Pop,” I said. “Call me if you need any help.”

  I was worried about him with JJ being in jail, awaiting his trial.

  “I’m good,” he said. “Your mother’s going to start helping me out around there more and more now that your aunt hired someone else.”

  My mother hadn’t minded, really, the cancer scaring her into making the most of every moment she had with my father.