Snatched

by Cathleen Ross

  She lifted her feet off his chest and kicked him in the face. His neck snapped back, but he didn’t register pain. Turning onto her stomach, she quickly scrabbled off the bed.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He grabbed her legs and pulled her back.

  “No!” she cried, struggling to get away.

  “Stop fighting. I’m not going to hurt you.” He lunged, flipped her onto her back, pinned her wrists, and clamped his leg over her thighs.

  Face gray, she stopped struggling. “Feel sick,” she muttered.

  Great. The last thing he wanted was vomit in the bed. He raced out of the bedroom and came back in with a bucket, holding it for her while she puked up bile.

  Guilt ate at him until he was as riddled with it as a Catholic. He watched her heave, one hand holding the bucket, the other holding her hair back from her face.

  Finally, she finished and flopped back on the bed, her face crumpled with misery. There was no use telling himself there were casualties in every situation—a damn platitude. He wanted his sister back safe, but he’d broken Stacey to do it.

  “Water,” she said.

  Her throat must be burning. He put the bucket down, went to the kitchen and brought back a tall glass of water. “Drink it slowly. I don’t want to see it come up again.”

  She drank the water, her chest rising and falling in short, sharp pants as she did so.

  “Breathe. Take long, deep breaths. Stay calm. You just fainted.”

  She stared at him as if he were a monster. “You tried to kill me.”

  “Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. You were never in any danger.” He rubbed his forehead, wondering whether he should sedate her. He could see the whites of her eyes, and she was still trembling, closer to shock than he was happy with.

  “You told Brian you were going to torture me. Cut me up in pieces.”

  He put his hand out to her and she flinched, so he put it back on the bed. “I had to. I needed to put pressure on Animal, and your screams achieved that. No matter what I said, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Disbelief flittered across her eyes. “You hung me over the water like bait. That…thing nearly took my head off.”

  “Psycho is my pet. I taught him to jump when I was a boy.”

  Her jaw dropped. “So, you… You had that planned? We had sex. Does that mean nothing to you?” It was the look of wounded disbelief that cleaved him.

  “You’re the one who wanted it,” he reminded her. “Begged for it.”

  She shook her head and her hands curled into fists. “You are a fucking asshole.”

  “I warned you not to get attached. When I get Lizzie back, we won’t see each other again. You are returning to New York.”

  “You can bet your life we won’t,” she snarled.

  He dropped his gaze to her kissable lips. Her mouth had a beautiful line, wide at the top lip, bow-shaped. He’d liked kissing her, and the fucking had been damned good.

  Too damned good.

  He had to get his sister back and make sure Stacey was gone. And not just for his sake.

  Once the brothers got wind that Animal had disrespected another Slayer’s woman, they’d take revenge any way they could. Including through Animal’s family. Troy was not going to let Stacey get caught in the middle of it.

  Pity, though. He wanted to kiss every inch of her body, over and over. He’d fuck her again in a heartbeat.

  “Don’t even think about kissing me,” she ground out.

  “I don’t make a habit of kissing women just after they’ve puked.” He picked up the bucket and walked to the bathroom to rinse it out. No matter how he tried to justify what he’d done, his actions weren’t sitting well under her devastated glare. And all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and rock her until that horrible expression disappeared from her pretty face.

  God, how big a wuss was he?

  She was his weakness. His Achilles’ heel.

  How the fuck had that happened so fast?

  He put the clean bucket under the bathroom sink. He needed to feed her once her stomach settled. She was too weak, too dizzy. Elevating her blood sugar might improve her mood, if he was lucky.

  Although she was silent in bare feet, he could feel her behind him with a hyperawareness that had kept him alive in battle. She wasn’t looking her best, but he still wanted her. Couldn’t get rid of the overpowering sexual attraction. He knew how good it felt to sink deep into her tight little cunt.

  She had his T-shirt on and was naked underneath it…

  “You didn’t have to terrorize me,” she said, jerking him out of his lustful thoughts. “You could have let me talk to Brian. I would have asked him to free Lizzie.”

  “Sure, you would.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance.”

  “You were too busy warning Animal off. Listen. My sister has never once gone missing. There has never been a single night she’s been unaccounted for. Until now. Why couldn’t she come to the phone? Something’s not right. I’ll know my sister’s alive and well when I hear her voice. Not before.”

  “You’re impossible to reason with.” Her mouth wobbled. “I have to get away from you.”

  “That’s not happening until I know Lizzie is safe.” He pulled out a new toothbrush and toothpaste from the cabinet and placed it on the sink. “Wash up, and I’ll make you breakfast. You need to eat.”

  “I’d rather eat poison.”

  Despite her mood, he grinned. “I’m a better cook than that.”

  “Get out of the bathroom and leave me alone. I don’t want to be near you. You’re an asshole. A treacherous bastard.”

  So, what was new?

  He closed the bathroom door before she had a complete meltdown. He didn’t want to see tears. Tears would make him take too close a look at himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Part of Stacey wanted to curl up and cry, but her mouth tasted like vomit and her throat burned, so she put toothpaste on the brush and scrubbed at her teeth and tongue instead. Besides, she didn’t want to appear weak in front of asshole Troy.

  She scrubbed her skin in the bathtub until it was bright pink, determined to get the scent of him off. When she was washed and dried, she picked up his T-shirt and sniffed it. Hell, no. She couldn’t put it on. Nothing of Troy’s was ever going to touch her skin again.

  Even if the sex had been great, he had stomped on their fragile connection. He was an opportunistic bastard, a man so distrusting, he wouldn’t let her make her brother see sense.

  She strode back into his bedroom to find something else to wear that didn’t smell of him. She could hear him busy in the kitchen and smelled the frying eggs and bacon. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was hungry.

  She opened his wardrobe to see a strange array of clothes. Lots of jeans, T-shirts, several army uniforms…and two dresses. Whoa. She had not been expecting that. There was even some girly underwear in his bottom drawer. But they looked too small for Troy, so she figured he didn’t have that kink.

  He’d claimed he didn’t have a girlfriend.

  But he was a kidnapper, a man who terrorized women. Why the fuck should she believe he didn’t have a girlfriend? Anyway, she didn’t give a damn.

  She pulled one of the dresses off its hangar. It was made of a spandex-type fabric, black and short. Cheap.

  Some biker slut’s clothing.

  She put it on. The dress came to mid-thigh. Tacky and scratchy. She scraped her hair into a bun at the back of her neck. She wouldn’t do girly or vulnerable. Severe suited her mood. She held the G-string up, inspecting it to check it was clean. God knew what kind of women Troy slept with.

  She’d have to get a health check.

  He came to the bedroom door, and his gaze swept over her. It didn’t take long for the heat to appear in his eyes. “Get sick of my T-shirt?”

  “I don’t want to wear anything you’ve touched. I gather from the minute size of this skanky dress it’s not you
rs.”

  His eyes narrowed. “It’s Lizzie’s. This used to be her home, so she likes to keep a few things here.”

  Oops. Best not insult his sister.

  “In that case, I’ll risk the underwear. If my brother likes her, there must be something special about her.” She wasn’t going to be mean about his sister. She understood about loving a sibling. Even if they did have questionable taste in clothing.

  “Lizzie’s great.”

  “Just as well. She’s the only woman who’ll bother with you.”

  “I don’t need you to like me. This is a job. A trade. You for Lizzie.”

  “I’ve got that. You fooled me with that bathtub scene.” A wave of emotion clogged her throat. She waited until it passed. “You were so gentle, you made me forget what you are. A specialist in terror and murder. It seems that’s all you’re good for.”

  He flinched.

  It gave her some satisfaction to see it. Truth was, she didn’t know anything about his military service, or his role in that stupid motorcycle club, but she could see she’d hit home.

  She started sliding on the G-string when she noticed him staring. “Why are you still here?”

  “You’re in my bedroom.”

  “There’s no reason for you to watch me dress. And if I’m forced to stay here any longer, I’ll be sleeping on the lounge because I am never letting you touch me again.”

  “You don’t get to set the rules, princess,” he said, crossing his arms, his biceps bulging.

  “Don’t call me that. I’m no one’s princess. I have a perfectly good college degree in business administration. I have plans for my life, and I intend to look after myself, seeing as I only seem to attract jerks.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Pull your panties on and come and eat. Better yet, leave them off.”

  “I don’t want to eat with you.”

  “I have two urgent desires at the moment. One is to eat, the other’s to fuck. I plan to satisfy one of them. Your choice.”

  “Good thing you cooked.”

  She didn’t miss the way his jeans were tenting. Maybe he was one of those guys with a huge sex drive who wanted it several times a day. She certainly didn’t fool herself that his urges had anything to do with caring about her. She’d let her guard down. Given in to her ridiculous attraction for him. She wouldn’t be that stupid again.

  She turned sideways and pulled up the G-string without exposing herself in any way. She walked toward the door, but he blocked it.

  “Move,” she demanded.

  “Speak nicely to me, princess. Little girl who has big plans for her life that don’t involve a man.”

  He could really get under her skin. “Don’t pretend you give a damn.”

  “I don’t. But I gave you your first orgasm, and you’ll be wanting more,” he said with a smug grin that irritated the hell out of her.

  She slammed her hands against his chest, trying to shove him out of the way. He didn’t budge. “So, what are you saying? That you marked me somehow? That you’ve ruined me for all other men?” She snorted.

  “You’ve had your first lesson in fucking. You might be mad now, but you’ll be back for more.”

  “The hell I will. It was just sex, remember? A fuck. But you’re right about the lesson. Thank you for teaching me not to fall for a fucking jerk.”

  Something relaxed around his eyes. “You falling for me, Stacey?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Didn’t you listen to a single word I said? I hate you.”

  She must have finally hit a nerve, because he moved aside. She walked over to the table he’d set with knives, forks, and two large plates, each heaped with bacon, a piece of toast, and two eggs. She picked up the knife and examined it. Not sharp enough to do any damage. Tough luck.

  He sat opposite her. “It takes a lot to kill someone,” he said quietly. “It takes away a piece of your soul, one bit at a time, so in the end you don’t know if anything’s left.”

  She stared at him. “You must have killed a lot of people. Guess there’s no coming back from being a soulless bastard.”

  At her words, pain shuttered his eyes. Good. She wanted to hurt him.

  She dug into her breakfast not looking at him. What kind of a kid trained an alligator, anyway?

  He deserved everything he got, and more.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stacey’s eyes burned bright with hatred for him. That shouldn’t have bothered him. In his line of work, hatred was a commodity, and he should have been used to it, but he wasn’t from her.

  She’d formed a shell to protect herself from him. It bugged the hell out of him because he liked her soft, willing, and available.

  She hadn’t realized when she’d dressed in the little black dress that the other dress in the cupboard was meant to layer over the one she was wearing, hiding her delicious curves. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and through the fine material, he could see the outline of her breasts. His cock stirred.

  He wanted to kiss, lick, and arouse her, make her spread her legs so he could fuck her. He wolfed down his breakfast thinking about it. When he took on a mission, he killed his adversary. Simple. Making Stacey miserable was giving him a case of blue balls, when he could be happily fucking her.

  It sucked big time.

  His cell phone rang. “Yes?”

  “You asshole.” Lizzie’s voice came through loud and clear.

  Stacey put down her knife and fork and stared at him.

  “Where the hell are you?” he demanded of his sister. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” He stood and strode onto the veranda, aware that Stacey was hot on his tail. Below him, the gators stirred. Stacey gasped.

  “Because I need some space without you, Dad, or the brothers interfering with my life.”

  “Interfering? Lizzie you disappeared. Snake and the brothers are about to form a posse to look for you. I’ll make Animal pay if he’s harmed a hair on your head.”

  “Brian is the kindest, sweetest man I know. How dare you threaten him!” Lizzie said.

  Stacey folded her arms and glared at him.

  “Hell, Lizzie, I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive. Why didn’t you come to the phone right away?”

  “I was out walking. I’m fine, so why don’t you mind your own business and go back to your life?”

  It was rare for Lizzie to get riled. Something was up. Something bad. But at least Animal hadn’t hurt her.

  “Because I’m worried about you,” Troy countered. “Your apartment was trashed. You gave your boss no word and left your job.”

  “Ask Snake why that is,” she said, spitting out his name.

  “Huh?”

  “Snake didn’t happen to mention that I caught him with that club whore, Gabriella, three days ago, did he?”

  Troy groaned. His instinct for danger and trouble were good. Just seemed it had been aimed in the wrong direction. “No.”

  “Thought not. I threw everything in my apartment at Snake until he left. Bet he didn’t tell you that, either.”

  “No,” Troy said. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have beaten him up for you.”

  “It won’t make me feel better seeing him in pieces.”

  “But Lizzie, he deserves it.”

  “Troy, I don’t like the way you handle things with violence. You’re getting too much like Pa. I don’t need rescuing. I don’t need contacting, and if you touch one hair on Brian’s head, I’ll never forgive you. He’s been good to me. He lets me talk without offering to smash Snake’s head in. That’s what helps me.”

  “Okay,” Troy said quietly, glancing at Stacey.

  Lizzie gulped over the phone. “I’m heartbroken, Troy. Snake was the man I loved. I don’t want him beaten. Violence doesn’t solve anything. Promise me you won’t harm him.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Troy didn’t get women. “But Lizzie, Pa’s mad. He wants Animal wasted.”

  She bit back a sob. “The reason this happened at all is because Pa ag
reed to guard the brothel. It’s his fault for taking that contract. It’s thanks to him Snake strayed. We were happy before he ordered Snake to mind those whores.”

  “Maybe. But Animal shouldn’t have taken you away. This is family business.”

  “Like hell. This is my business. Not yours. Not Pa’s. Mine. I begged Brian to take me away for a while.”

  “Shit.” Stricken, Troy glanced at Stacey, who stood watching him with her smug, I-told-you-so expression.

  “Is Stacey okay? Brian’s beside himself with worry.”

  “She just fainted. I need to go, Lizzie.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “She’s not hurt.”

  “Did you hang her out like bait for that alligator?” his sister demanded. “Brian said he heard her screaming.”

  “You didn’t answer my calls,” Troy said defensively. “He wasn’t talking. I needed to get results.”

  “You’re a real bastard, Troy. Every mission you go on is destroying you more and more. You’d better make it right with that girl.”

  “Sure.” He glanced at Stacey again. How the fuck was he going to do that?

  “Promise me,” Lizzie insisted.

  “Okay. But you have to promise me something, too. Call Mom.” At least that would get Mom off his back. It was his job to protect the women he cared about. But now he had to deal with Stacey and that haunted expression in her eyes.

  “I will,” Lizzie said. “But give me a couple of days, or I’ll be crying all over Mom on the phone, and that’ll just upset her more.”

  “Fine. I’ll let her know. But listen, you have to take some responsibility for this mess. Next time you decide to disappear, answer my damn calls.”

  “No, you listen. I need time to think. I don’t want my family phoning me—especially not Pa. I blame him for ruining my life. You might as well know, I’m not sure if I’ll even come home. I’m not risking Brian’s life, not after all he’s done for me.”

  Troy groaned, knowing how badly this was going to go down with Pa. “I have to go, Lizzie,” he cut his sister off, hung up, and clenched the phone as he stared at Stacey.

  “Brian didn’t hurt her, did he?” she said.

  “No.”