by Bethany-Kris
At least, that’s what Lucian would do.
This hotel sported four elevators. Why in the hell was his so important?
Tossing another scathingly look over his shoulder, something else about their elevator guest caused Lucian to take pause as the machine began to lift. Like Lucian and Jordyn, the man seemed well-dressed in a tuxedo, but the ball cap he also wore was off-putting to the rest of the suit. The guy was keeping his back turned and head down, ensuring his face was hidden from view.
Just like the ball cap would have done for the cameras up above.
No one needed to keep their face hidden unless they didn’t want to be seen.
All over again, like the day he was shot, Lucian was starting to get that creepy feeling. Something wasn’t right. Maybe he did have one hell of an instinct he never noticed before now; it was sure acting up again.
Jordyn didn’t seem to take notice of Lucian’s sudden discomfort, leaning back to the wall with her hands resting to the bar along the back of the elevator wall. Or maybe she just assumed he was tense from being cock blocked.
“Jordyn?”
Her blue eyes turned on Lucian with a heat burning behind the irises. “Hmm?”
“Kiss me.”
“What?” Jordyn whispered, grinning again.
Lucian had the distinct feeling they were stuck in a six-by-six confined space in a bad situation, and while he hoped he was wrong, he probably wasn’t. Elevators only went up and down. They didn’t stop to open on upper floors to pick up others unless those guests had pushed the up button, also. No one in a hotel wanted to go up unless they were going to their room. Chances were, their elevator wouldn’t stop until it reached the top floor. As always, his ever faithful Eagle was at his back, but it would only do so much.
So yeah, Lucian wanted to kiss her.
Lucian didn’t bother to ask Jordyn again, he simply leaned forward and took what he wanted, pinning her to the elevator wall under his hands as his lips claimed hers. Jordyn didn’t shy away from the kiss, instead sighing a quiet moan and granting him access to her mouth. Intense couldn’t adequately describe the way his entire body seemed to tune in to her, the person behind him, and everything else around them.
“Close your eyes,” Lucian murmured lowly. “And no matter what, don’t move. It won’t help.”
The distinct zing of a wire as it uncoiled registered behind him. Lucian knew that sound. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, or used it himself, for that matter.
Jordyn’s brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Just close your eyes, and don’t move, sweetheart. Trust me.”
She didn’t need to see this. Whatever it was.
Jordyn’s eyes fluttered close and Lucian pressed one more feather light kiss to her cheek before telling her to stay that way no matter what. Then, he started to pull away.
While Lucian kept his words down to a quiet murmur, too low for the man to hear, he hoped the guy thought all of his attention was on Jordyn. It usually was, but he’d been keeping track of the movements he could hear behind him, too.
The man had stepped back at least a foot from his previous position, and he was slightly turned, now. It was only a millisecond before the guy rotated completely and the wire wrapped tightly around Lucian’s throat, yanking him backwards from the unexpected force. The Eagle at his back fell from its spot, hitting the floor with a clatter. Lucian kicked the gun away, not wanting the attacker to pick it up instead.
Instantly, all the air in Lucian’s lungs left. It was a natural reaction of the body to expel air in a shock. It was also why those who suffered death by strangulation died fast. The fight or flight instinct kicked in for the victim, all desire being completely focused on the one thing: the need to breathe.
But, no matter how hard or fiercely the victim fought for that breath, with an attacker behind them, and a wire to their throat cutting off all oxygen to their damaged trachea, it became a useless fight. Too much energy was focused on needing to breathe, and not the fact they needed to find a way out of the situation.
A wire was quick, quiet, and effective. It was more efficient in a hand-to-hand situation than most other weapons when a job needed to be done quietly. There was no fuss about it, and no mess to clean up but for a body with a mark around the neck. It could essentially take down a two-hundred pound man with little to no fight at all in mere minutes, if not seconds, when done correctly. There could be a crowd of people just feet away, and they would never know a thing until the body was found.
Lucian was not a stupid man. He’d used this silent attack before. It was a good one, frankly.
Despite knowing the last thing he needed to do was fight for his breath and instead, fight to get the wire off his neck, Lucian couldn’t help the immediate flood of fear and adrenaline raging a war in his body. Pulled back against the strong chest of his attacker, Lucian’s hands grappled for anything in those first few seconds. He wanted support, something for leverage to keep him steady. Instead, he found himself grabbing at air because he was panicking.
The choked off cry he released came out on its own accord. Another natural reaction of a body in survival mode.
Jordyn’s eyes opened, then, staring straight into Lucian’s.
It took her but a flash to take in her surroundings and realize what was occurring. The fear there was immediate, breaking his heart as he couldn’t tell her to close them again if he couldn’t speak. Lucian didn’t want her to see this happening to him. When she jerked forward from the wall to try and help him, he managed a tight shake of his head that sent her flying back into the corner. She could have picked up his gun and turned it on the man, sure, but she wasn’t all too familiar with weapons or how to use them. There wasn’t anything more dangerous than someone will little to no knowledge of how to use one brandishing a handgun.
Who knew what this person behind him would do to Jordyn, but the intent on Lucian was clear enough that he was going to keep his attention on him for as long as he could. Lucian also wasn’t sure if the wire was the only weapon the attacker had.
Those wide blue eyes of hers with tears spilling to her cheeks and a fist pressed to her mouth did do something good for Lucian. For a brief moment, it calmed him. The welling, thick panic saturating his senses dulled enough to let him think, and consider more than just the acts.
The man behind him was strong, even with Lucian’s fingernails digging deeply into the forearms locked behind his neck, keeping the wire extra taut. The attacker didn’t speak, not a word. In fact, he barely seemed to breathe as he squeezed tighter. The lack of scent also caught Lucian’s attention. People wore things … deodorant, perfumes or colognes, shampoos, and soaps. If they didn’t, a person smelled like sweat and poor hygiene. This person had no smell.
Because they’d wanted to be invisible, Lucia realized.
The man had meant to be overlooked. Just another guest in the corner of the hotel, chatting on a phone or reading a paper. No one important or a cause for concern.
A professional.
Perhaps the man had been at the hotel earlier, but his chance to make a move had been lost for whatever reason.
Lucian quickly decided this one would be, too.
As much as his body and mind screamed in protest at the choice, Lucian compelled himself to let go of the man’s arms and stop grabbing at the wire around his throat. It wouldn’t do him any good at this point. He tried to think how many seconds had passed with him in the panicked state—thirty, maybe.
Inside his chest, his lungs burned with the need for air. Saliva was choking him. His eyes felt dry. His heart beat far too fast and out of control and his mind was muddled, but clearing slowly. Pain from the wire cutting into his neck was dulled compared to everything else. The urge to cough, though no sound would come out, bubbled up repeatedly.
Thirty-five seconds.
Thirty-six …
Thirty-seven …
At forty, Lucian forc
ed his body to relax.
The man didn’t loosen the wire for a second.
A professional wouldn’t, Lucian knew. They weren’t supposed to stop until the job was done.
Lucian hated that’s what his life was right now, a job.
Once more, Lucian met Jordyn’s teary-eyed gaze. He was aware of what she was seeing, and how frozen she was because there wasn’t a thing she could do. It was likely his face was turning red, blood vessels in his eyes expanding, readying to burst from the lack of oxygen. Perhaps a bluish tint was beginning to creep over his grimacing lips.
Forty-five, he counted silently.
Lucian wanted to marry Jordyn. He didn’t know when exactly, but he had a feeling it didn’t much matter as long as she was his. Every morning and every single night, he wanted to love her. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—ever get enough of her. Strangely, he bet Jordyn would make an amazing mother to his children, something else he’d never considered but wanted with her so desperately. He didn’t even care she’d only been in his life for a couple of brief months, as something inside whispered she wasn’t ever going to leave.
Sometimes that was how love worked.
It was the worst time to be having the realizations, but the mind has a funny way of coping.
Fifty seconds …
A darkness was starting to seep into the edges of his vision. If he didn’t act soon, the oxygen deprivation would pull him into a blackout.
As the elevator dropped slightly from reaching the top floor, the door dinged and began to open. It was the moment Lucian had been waiting for. He only needed to survive the trip up, as his attacker no doubt assumed his job would be finished within that time frame. Briefly, the wire loosened just enough to tell Lucian the man had turned to check the opening doors. Lucian took the chance to breathe, as deep and with what little air he could, though it hurt to do so.
At that point, he attacked back.
One of his elbows landed with punishing force to the middle of the man’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs with a staggered whoosh. At the same time, despite the protest and pain from the wire at his throat, Lucian used what strength he had left to pull forward enough so his other elbow could slam up into his attacker’s face.
The sickening crunch of a nose breaking told him he hit his mark right on.
“Shit,” he heard hissed behind him.
Maybe the man hadn’t expected Lucian to have the power left he did after being choked to near unconsciousness, but the surprise hits worked. The wire slipped from one gloved hand, releasing the deathly tight hold on Lucian’s throat.
After that, time moved so much faster.
Lucian couldn’t consider Jordyn still pressed into the corner, or how he struggled to catch breath as he turned to face the man. He kicked the wire that fell to the floor off to the side, out of reach. Startlingly quick, his fists landed one after the other into a bleeding, broken face he didn’t recognize. Lucian didn’t register his knuckles spitting open on the man’s teeth as he continued his assault until the guy was backed into the other side of the elevator.
Rage swelled with every hit. Lucian trembled all over. The man blindly waved out at him, maybe in an effort to hit back, but the blood was undoubtedly blinding him and the strength of the defensive moves were weak at best.
With all the force he could muster, Lucian’s knee landed to the man’s stomach, again taking away his air. Groaning, the man doubled over, falling to his knees on the floor. After, he reached over and hit the keypad on the elevator to close the doors before hitting the ground floor button to take them back down. Lucian released a shaky exhale, his fists clenching into tight balls at his sides.
“I have sixty seconds before this thing stops again,” Lucian told the man. “That’s sixty seconds with just you and me, asshole. Sixty seconds in a six-by-six metal box you planned to kill me in, but that you can’t get out of, now. Just imagine the damage I can do to you in one minute. Start counting.”
“Lucian …”
Jordyn’s painful whisper behind him made Lucian tense all over. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she replied bleakly.
“Fifty-five,” Lucian informed the man beneath him. “Tell me who hired you and I’ll make it easy.”
The man chuckled, though it sounded painful. “I doubt that.”
Lucian struck out with a kick that sent the man’s head flying back into the wall. Gurgles of bitter laughter answered the hit. “Who?”
“Of all people, you should know it doesn’t work that way,” the man forced out, blood spitting from between broken teeth. “I don’t get the names of employers, just the contract and the pay.”
Lucian’s jaw clenched. “How much?”
“Two-hundred-fifty-thousand down, the same after it was done, but that wouldn’t come for at least thirty days after burial.”
Jordyn gasped quietly. Lucian didn’t even react.
“You made a big mistake,” Lucian said.
“No,” the man coughed out. “I simply underestimated you.”
“Same difference.”
One last time, Lucian kicked the man. The power behind the kick sent more blood spewing, and the man into unconsciousness. Twenty seconds later, the doors opened for the elevator. It was only then that Lucian turned back to Jordyn.
She was shaking.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Lucian urged, his throat scratchy and raw. “I’m fine, I promise.”
Jordyn didn’t hesitate before flying off the wall into his open embrace. “I wanted to—”
Lucian shushed low, holding her tighter. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”
The words became a mantra as someone outside the elevator began calling for help. Jordyn wasn’t the only one who cried that time.
• • •
Jordyn paced the length of the hallway without once noticing time passing her by. She already went through the hoops of giving her statement, and running through a short interview with detectives. They were more interested in what she could tell them about Lucian Marcello and his family, rather than the man who tried to kill her lover in an elevator two hours before. Not that she told them anything, because she didn’t have a damned thing to tell. She never would.
The interview didn’t last long, though. A lawyer, one Jordyn didn’t know and hadn’t asked for because she didn’t think she needed one, was quick to step into the interview and shut it down. Hired by Antony Marcello, the man explained. If the detectives had nothing more to ask Jordyn about the hotel incident, she would be leaving with him and they could contact him if they had any more questions or requests from there on out. Contacting Jordyn directly without him present would only lead to a harassment claim the police didn’t need, he warned.
Jordyn quickly realized Antony Marcello did not play around when it came to his family and business.
After that, she’d been shuffled into a car and driven to the Marcello home.
Again …
She really just wanted to go home with Lucian.
Wherever he was.
Jordyn suspected he was still under the guise of the detectives wanting interviews. Or saying they needed more information. Maybe they assumed Lucian knew more about the man in intensive care than he was saying. It was hard to tell, given she hadn’t seen him in hours.
It didn’t help that Antony holed himself up in his office without a word, but Jordyn being outside in the hallway gave her all the access she needed to hear his rising frustrations and anger. All she understood was that he was on the phone, to lawyers, to the hotel security, and whoever else. Antony wanted Lucian out of police custody immediately. His son was not the perpetrator, but the victim. It was on tape. Why wasn’t he out?
Obviously, officials were trying to take this as their chance to dig deeper into the family secrets, and Antony wouldn’t allow them to.
Jordyn also learned Lucian’s father was no closer to figuring out who was behind these attacks, or even why, for that
matter. The man who attempted to kill Lucian tonight, however, had been identified. Christophe was simply a hired man—a good one, apparently, from what Jordyn understood. Anyone who had contacts in the world of Mafiosi could easily contract him for a specific job, and the guy was known to get it done quickly, correctly, and without issue.
Lucian was the only victim of the man anyone knew who had survived.
Dante, when Jordyn gained the courage to ask, explained Christophe likely wouldn’t have turned on her unless it was absolutely necessary. Like perhaps if she had tried to attack him. The facts were simple, his job was Lucian, not Jordyn. She could have seen his face—which she did—and it wouldn’t have mattered.
The man was essentially a ghost. He had no real affiliation to any crime family. His life was lived off the grid of anything worthy of being official or documented. As swiftly as he appeared somewhere, he could just as easily disappear.
If Christophe survived the night, he would be a lucky man. The doctors gave him little chance. The last of the beating he took caused heavy bleeding on the brain, as well as swelling. Supposedly he was in surgery and would be for hours. Part of his skull needed to be removed for the swelling. The bleeding needed to be stopped. On the off chance he did survive, the man would be severely handicapped with the expectation of life as an invalid, both mentally and physically.
Well, he wouldn’t be coming after Lucian again. Jordyn took comfort in knowing that at least.
“Jordyn … darling?”
Jordyn’s head popped up at the sweet, soothing tenor of Lucian’s mother. “Yes?”
Cecelia offered her a smile, but it didn’t reach the woman’s eyes like it usually would. “How are you feeling?”
“Worried,” Jordyn admitted.
“Don’t be. They have no reasonable right to hold him. They certainly can’t charge him with anything. This is just the usual antics of the police. We have to wait it out.”
Jordyn nodded, still feeling bleak. “And what about the next time?”