by Aimee McNeil
“I’m sure you will.” Lexie tried to adjust her shirt the best she could with her hands tied. “Where’s my mother?” she demanded.
“Walk.” He pushed her forward, ignoring her.
Lexie growled in frustration. “Can I take this cloth off my face so I can see where I’m going?”
“No. Keep walking.” He nudged Lexie between the shoulder blades with what felt like his gun.
“Is John here?”
“Walk,” he demanded again. His patience seemed to be wearing thin. The sound of elevator doors grabbed her attention.
“Where are you taking me?” Lexie refused to move her feet. She turned around and grabbed for the cloth over her eyes. “Mom!” Lexie screamed.
The man pinned her against the wall and repositioned her blindfold. “Trust me when I say you do not want to cause any more trouble for your mother. She’s in enough already.” He leaned in so she could feel his hot words against her neck.
Lexie nodded her head. “Okay,” she whispered when she could get her voice to cooperate.
He grabbed Lexie by the shoulder and pushed her inside the elevator. She tried to remain brave, but she couldn’t stop the thought that she might not return from wherever she was going. She had no idea why John brought them here, though she was certain it was not for a happy reunion.
When they exited the elevator, they took a few turns before he told her to stop. She heard him open a door before leading her inside. “You’ll wait in here,” he said.
“For what?” Lexie asked; she could feel her voice shake slightly from fear. When Lexie heard the door click closed and then the turning of a lock, she wasted no time grabbing for the cloth from her head. Fresh air washed over her, and she took a deep breath. Brushing the hair out of her face, she immediately went to work trying to untie the knot binding her hands. Using her teeth, she managed to loosen it enough to pull her hands free.
Lexie looked around the room. It looked like an upscale hotel room with a large king-sized bed sitting in the center of the room. Abstract paintings of flowers brought color into the otherwise monochromatic color scheme of varying shades of grey. A large television sat on an entertainment unit, and a small mini bar was situated in the corner of the room. It was a nicer hotel room than she had ever been in, but it did not take much to overshadow the outdated motels she had been in. She immediately searched the room. There was no phone, and the windows that overlooked untouched forest land were sealed shut. She tried the door, but it was locked from the outside.
“Damn it!” Lexie ran her hands through her hair before sitting on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. She needed to stay strong if she was going to get through this. She closed her eyes and thought of Jackson, trying to figure out where he really fit in this huge puzzle that became her life. Even knowing he kept secrets from her about her mother did not change the fact that she missed him and yearned for the comfort of his embrace. The thought that something happened to him carved at her chest, causing a slow ache to gnaw at her insides. For so long she was lost and felt like her whole life was slipping through her fingers as pain consumed every aspect, but then Jackson showed up. He felt solid and real. He made her remember she was still alive. When she held onto him and looked into those dark, bottomless eyes, she felt like the world finally came back into focus. He numbed her pain, and she needed him right now.
Lexie kicked her flip-flops off and curled up on the bed. She looked down at her bare toenails, and a sharp pain twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She wondered if this was her punishment for betraying Alex. That night she let Evan come to her bed was the beginning of this unraveling. Alex had been a huge light in her life—he deserved better than her. He gave his life for her, and then she let herself fall apart. She wasn’t worthy of the love he gave her.
Alex deserved better than this broken girl, who couldn’t stop her betraying heart from having feelings for another. The problem was that she could not turn back time and convince him that she was not worth his life.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
John
John opened the car door and stepped out into the hotel underground parking. He ran his hands over the sleeves of his suit jacket, making sure it was spotless. He straightened his tie and noticed a red spot on the light grey fabric—blood. He ran his finger over the stain before he snapped his head up and narrowed his gaze on the nearest man. He was a new recruit, and John couldn’t remember his name nor did he care. The man did nothing to earn his attention; he was just a number. “Get me a new tie,” John demanded as he loosened and pulled it from the collar of his shirt.
“Yes sir,” the man answered eagerly before he turned on his heel and left.
Jason Flint, who had been riding in the same car as John, rounded the vehicle. He was a man who had earned a place next to John’s side long ago, his loyalty paid in blood.
Flint held his phone against his ear as he listened. “Good,” he said before disconnecting the call. “Jacobs and Rayner are holding Mary in the conference room, awaiting your orders. They just took Lexie to the room you requested.” Flint slid his phone into his pocket.
John had known Flint for years, since their school days. Trust was something John didn’t offer lightly because he had made too many enemies in this lifetime. Many had worked years to fall into John’s good graces, but he always made sure to keep people at arm’s length. He knew this life well enough to know that everyone had a price and ultimately everyone stood for themselves. Loyalty was a dying breed with the exception of Flint. He and Flint were the closest thing to family either one of them had. Some had even mistaken them as actual brothers before because of their similar appearances. He was the only man John trusted enough to show his back to.
“Good.”
“Masten is here to see you. He arrived twenty minutes ago.” Flint raised his brows, knowing John would not have the patience to deal with him right now. Masten had been a thorn in John’s side for a long time, a man who blurred every line ever drawn. He was dangerous and unpredictable, but luckily the man had tastes that allowed John to exert power over him. They had established a working relationship many years ago that benefited them both, and he knew the terms of their arrangement did not leave much room for Masten to have a change of heart.
Lexie’s friend was pulled out of one of the other vehicles. Rogers, one of John’s security crew, was struggling to keep her under control. She was kicking and fighting him like a trapped animal. Even blindfolded with her arms tied behind her back, she managed to kick herself free of Roger’s hold. John was tired and didn’t have the tolerance for her disruption. She was obviously not scared enough and needed a reminder that he was the one in control.
John walked over toward her and grabbed the material from her head. He wrenched her head back by her hair, causing her to gasp out in pain. “You certainly have a death wish, sweetheart.” John pulled his gun from his holster tucked neatly under his jacket and placed it under her chin, pressing it into her soft flesh, knowing that it would leave a bruise. It would be a reminder that he had power over her.
“Please…” she whimpered as tears began to run down her reddened cheeks.
“If you value your life and the lives of your friends, you will shut the fuck up.” John watched the fear of his words bloom in her wide eyes. Her fight deserted her with the threat of death. Fear was like a drug to John; he could taste it in the air, and it made him hungry for more.
“Take this one to Masten. She seems to fit his profile.” John released her, and she stumbled backward. Rogers grabbed her by the arm and headed off toward the elevator with the subdued girl.
***
John walked into the conference room to see Mary seated in a chair, her arms tied and a gag placed in her mouth. Her beautiful blue eyes flared with rage when she saw him enter. Her words were muffled by the fabric tied tightly in her mouth. After all these years, she still looked every bit the prize she w
as in her youth. Now her features carried a maturity to them that did not distract from her beauty. He hated knowing he had missed so much time that should have been his. The thought of another man touching her, having her, made his blood boil. She was his, and she would not have the opportunity to escape him again…he would make sure of it.
Jacobs and Rayner were in the room, awaiting his arrival as they made sure she remained under surveillance. They both knew John would not tolerate any mistakes in handling her. Rayner was intimidating with his wide shoulders, large build, and tattoos that stretched up his neck and along his jawline. A cigarette hung from his mouth as he stood dutifully awaiting John’s orders. The man instilled fear in everyone. He was a wolf among dogs. Jacobs was not as large, but with a violent past there was no line he wouldn’t cross, a trait that came in handy many times in John’s dealings. His eyes revealed a man who had taken a dip in the sea of hell and was not afraid to show his wrath.
“Mary,” John said, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “Did you think I’d forget about you?” His touch was almost loving as he caressed her skin, trailing his fingers down her neck and along the neckline of her shirt. “That you could just run away and forget about me?”
“Fuck you.” Mary’s words were muffled through the fabric. She pulled back from his invasive touch, leaning back as far as she could in the chair.
John grabbed her face and squeezed tightly, eliciting a whimper. Leaning in, he made sure she was looking him in the eye. “Is she mine or his?” His voice was harsh and demanding.
Mary narrowed her eyes but refused to make a sound. She tried to pull free of his hold, but his grip was too strong.
“It’s easy enough to find the truth.” John released her. She squeezed her eyes shut before she tried to speak.
“Untie her gag.” John motioned toward Rayner. The large man stepped forward and loosened the fabric.
“Please, John, don’t hurt her,” Mary whispered as she pulled against the ties on her arms. “She doesn’t know this life. She’s innocent of all this. Please let her go.”
John let a sly smile curl his lips before he looked down at his hand. He ran his fingers over the rings that lined his fingers. He slowly turned them, lining the emblems up on the inside of his open palm. He looked up to see Mary watching him with a desperate plea in her eyes. John reeled his hand back and slapped his open palm across Mary’s face. Her scream excited him. He had always revelled in the sound of her cries. It had been too long, and his groin responded in hot fury. Blood dripped from her lip, running down her chin and dripping on the exposed skin on her chest before sliding down toward her cleavage. His drank in the sight, like the sweet taste of liquor that warmed his stomach. He would never let her leave him again. She was his, and he would make her pay for turning on him.
“I want what you took from me,” John said in a voice so cold it caused goosebumps to flash across Mary’s skin. He could see in her eyes she would be willing to do anything to protect her daughter.
“I don’t have it. I burned it all. I wanted to forget about my past.”
John shook his head. “You are too smart for that, Mary.”
Rayner cleared his throat when someone entered the room. John turned to see the man he had sent for a tie standing in the doorway with a new tie in his hand. John waved him in the room, holding his hand out to receive it. The young man had light hair that was in need of a cut. He couldn’t have been more than thirty years old, with the look of hope in his eye that only youth held.
John looked at the tie. The fabric was rough against his skin, and a department store tag hung from the end of the tie. “Come here.” John motioned him closer. “What is your name?”
“Marshall, sir,” he said nervously.
John took the tie and wrapped it around Marshall’s neck. John could feel him tremble beneath his touch. “Tell me, Marshall, do you think I look like a man that wears a department store tie for thirty dollars?”
“No…no sir. I am sorry, sir. It was the quickest option.”
John proceeded to tie it around Marshall’s neck, straightening it to perfection before he grabbed the lengths of the material and pulled, wrapping it around his hands to gain leverage. Marshall gasped as the pressure on his neck made it impossible to breathe. “I don’t care what you thought.” John continued to tighten the tie around his neck. The young man grabbed hold of John’s hands in an attempt to fight for breath. He tried to plead for his life as it was squeezed from him. Mary’s screams rang out behind him as she pleaded for him to stop. She was always so soft, always pleading for him to be a better man. What she didn’t know was that better men took what they wanted and demanded power. He was the better man. He climbed to the top of his world and would make all those under his feet know who he was. He was unstoppable, the very best of men.
John did not release his hold until all life was drained from Marshall’s eyes and pools of nothingness stared back at him. When he let go, Marshall’s body slumped to the floor and Mary’s screams died away.
“Is she mine, Mary?” John demanded, reeling from the high of taking a life. He tipped her chin up and looked into her tear-soaked eyes. He searched those blue eyes that stole a piece of his dark heart so many years ago. He wanted to own her then, the very first time he saw her in that night club line up. Throwing that beautiful hair back and laughing like she had no cares in the world. It was then that she fell into his hands. He would never let her escape him again. “You don’t know, do you?”
Tears fell from her eyes, down her cheeks, and mixed with her blood. “You can’t have her,” Mary sobbed. “She will never be yours, you sick bastard.”
A sinful smile spread across John’s face as he leaned in close to her. Her scent filled his senses once more. It had been too long. “You’ve never been more wrong.”
Mary sobbed and tried to pull away from him.
“I’ll give you some time to think, Mary. Maybe you will remember where you put what you took from me. Until then, I think I’ll go get acquainted with dear, sweet Lexie. She reminds me so much of you.” John trailed his finger along Mary’s jaw and across her chin. When he pulled his finger away, it was coated with the blood from her lip. John brought it to his lips and sucked the coppery liquid from his finger.
“Stay away from her!” Mary struggled against the ropes; the chair scraped against the floor as she pulled desperately at the ties. John walked away, a cold chuckle leaving his lips.
He walked out into the hallway. The owner of the hotel owed John steeply, and when he could not deliver the funds, John found a way to make the situation benefit him. The grand hotel, bordering the edge of Sugar Hill, was only a short drive to Belhaven. It was a perfect location to stay under the radar, especially with some current rumblings of the new detective sniffing around his town. Belhaven had some changes in their police force, and the female detective was out for his blood. Until he found her weakness he had to lay low, especially now after the incident at the diner in Oxford. It would only be a matter of time before she got word of his involvement, if she hadn’t already. John currently had men on damage control to keep any witnesses from talking. Most would be easy to persuade to keep their mouths shut. Fear was good motivation, but as for Jackson Finley and the other officers involved, he would have to take more extreme measures. The very thought made a smile curve his lips. John hated Finley’s father, and he would take great pride in having his son meet the same fate.
Three levels of the hotel were blocked off for renovations for an extended period of time. It was the perfect place for John to conduct private business matters without drawing attention. John headed toward his room. Sliding the key into the door, he swung it open and walked straight toward his bar. He picked up his whiskey and poured a generous glass.
“There you are, love.”
John looked over toward his bed to see Rebecca lounging on the bed. She was rousing for the day as she blinked sleepily at him. She slid her scantily clad body off the bed. Her
blue eyes always had reminded him of Mary, but hers lacked the depth. After just coming from Mary he realized how different they actually were. The similarities were not close enough to appease him anymore. The thin strap of her dress slipped off her shoulder, exposing the swell of her breast as she sauntered toward him. “I missed you last night,” she cooed before she ran her hands over his chest.
John drained his glass as he looked at her calculatedly. The differences between her and Mary almost disgusted him now. They stood out in stark contrast. Rebecca was oblivious to his thoughts as she leaned in for a kiss. John turned away from her approach; reaching for the bottle of whiskey, he refilled his glass.
“What’s wrong, baby?” She let her hands fall to her sides.
John tipped the glass up to his lips and drained it again. “Don’t fucking talk.”
A scowl creased the skin between her eyes, and a pout turned her lips. John grabbed the strap of her dress and ripped the material.
A gasp of surprise escaped her. “I loved that dress,” Rebecca whined. A frown pulled her lips as she looked down at what was left of the dress.
“I’ll buy you another one.” John set his glass down.
A seductive smile turned her lips. Rebecca was as shallow as they came, and money always brought a smile to her Botox-filled lips. She dropped to her knees. Looking at him with heavy lids, she unzipped John’s pants. Her experienced hands pleasured him before she slid him into her mouth. She was well skilled in how to pleasure a man, but right now John wanted the control. He grabbed the back of her hair and pushed himself further until he could feel the resistance of the back of her throat, and she gagged around him. He loved the sound as she struggled to work with his demanding thrusts.
He grabbed hold of Rebecca’s hair and wrenched her off the floor and threw her against the bed. His hand grabbed her by the neck and pushed her down into the mattress. He shoved himself into Rebecca’s hot center, while thinking of his Mary strapped to the chair, helpless and in his control again after all these years. “Scream for me,” John demanded as he brought his hand hard against Rebecca’s backside. Unlike Mary, Rebecca found pleasure in his rough hands. He came fast and furious while she writhed beneath him.