by Eden Summers
I lower my gaze and bite my lip, holding in a pathetic whimper.
I’m overheating. Sweating.
“You can come downstairs now.” He retreats as if immune to the screaming chemistry between us. “Be prepared for a fight and keep your mouth shut.”
I blink at the sudden whiplash of topic. “Okay.”
He leads the way from the room and I follow a step behind, trailing him down the hall to the staircase.
I’m chilled by the time we reach the lower level. Cole’s bedroom is like a sanctuary in comparison to the upcoming firing squad of murmured voices.
He pauses near the opening of the living room, waiting for me to reach his side before we enter the open area together. A united front.
Both of us strip the conversation from the room without a word.
“What is she doing here?” Decker pushes from the sofa, his glare more accusatory than his hate-filled tone.
Everyone stares at me. Keira, Penny, and Layla with tear-stained eyes. Hunter, Decker, and Benji with animosity. Luca and Sarah with pity.
“Anissa will be helping us.” Cole places a hand at the low of my back, igniting whispers and muttered dissent.
“Help with what?” Keira asks. “What can she do that you haven’t already done?”
“Nothing,” Hunter answers. “She’ll do more harm than good.”
“No.” I shake my head, directing my answer to Benji and Layla. “I would never risk your daughter’s life. I promise I won’t interfere.”
“Then why be here at all?” Decker growls.
“Yeah, why?” Hunt continues to glare. “You’re nothing more than a distraction.”
I press my lips tight, keeping my mouth shut because that’s what Cole wants.
Whispers of discord arise between them. Layla murmurs to her husband. Penny does the same with Luca. Sarah mouths a harsh warning to Hunter.
“Are you all finished?” Cole adds pressure to my back, encouraging me toward the wolves. “She’s here because she has experience on this when we have none.”
“She’s got no fucking experience when it comes to our people,” Decker counters. “The goalposts are different.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Cole drops his hand and moves to the kitchen to open the fridge. “She’s here now and she’s staying. If any of you have issues, keep them to yourself. I don’t have the energy to waste.”
Everyone continues to look at me. Hunter and Decker’s glares intensify, along with Sarah and Luca’s pity.
“How can you help find my baby?” Layla raises from the sofa, slow and fragile. She maneuvers around the coffee table to approach me, her husband soon following. “Are there ways you can search for people on the Bureau’s computers? Some sort of facial recognition on public camera or something?”
I glance at Cole, who walks back toward me, a bottle of water in each hand. “She can’t help like that, Lay.” He reaches my side and hands me a bottle. “Nothing she does can be traced back to the Feds. She’s risking her career by being here.”
“Then send her home,” Hunter mutters.
“What can you do?” Benji asks. “I don’t understand.”
I crack the lid on the water and take a quick sip, needing the liquid to soothe my drying throat. “I’ve worked on hostage cases before. I know how to negotiate a ransom.”
“But there hasn’t been a request.” Layla’s eyes implore me. “There has to be something you can do when we haven’t heard from whoever took them.”
Her anguish bleeds into me.
I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth, not even able to form a response.
“There will be a ransom.” Cole’s hand returns to my back. The subtle unity drags the air from my lungs in a gentle heave. “We have to be patient.”
I remain silent, wishing I could reiterate his words of encouragement, but I can’t. I won’t lie to Layla. Not about her daughter. Not when a sinking part of me is wondering if that little girl is already dead.
“Whoever has them probably didn’t anticipate we’d kill Robert.” Cole’s palm continues to do circle work against the back of my suit jacket. He’s providing me with comfort. An interloper. An unwanted intruder. “They might be scrambling to find a place to hide.”
“And you know Stella,” Sarah adds from the sofa. “That feisty little thing would be giving them their money’s worth. I’m sure someone will reach out any minute now.”
I nod, making myself believe.
I ignore all the statistics on hostage situations that have been drilled into my brain and nod and nod and nod. This isn’t a normal abduction. This isn’t a criminal against a naive civilian. The rules here are different. The playing field is entirely new.
“A two-person abduction is a major operation.” I meet Layla’s watery eyes. “Whoever is responsible would want to set themselves up in a stable environment. Especially if they’re on their own. They’d want to keep the kids calm.”
“Tobias and Stella are probably still passed out,” Hunter growls. “Does she even know they were hit with chloroform?”
No, I didn’t.
I glance at Cole, witnessing the tick of his jaw before he turns to meet my gaze. “We still have a lot to discuss.” His palm stops the circular assault. “I’ll fill you in on the way to your apartment.”
“You’re leaving?” Layla’s voice is laced with accusation. “Please, Cole, stay here. What happens if someone calls? What will you do if—”
“We won’t be long.” His hand sweeps over my wrist, the touch light. “And I need the fresh air. The bleach is giving me a migraine.”
He leads me toward the far side of the room, the prying eyes remaining heavy at the back of my neck even once we’re striding down an unfamiliar hall.
I can’t get rid of the ache Layla’s suffering has awakened inside me. The agony chips at my soul. Little by little.
I sniff to beat back the tingle in my nose.
Usually I can detach from a case.
This one seems far too personal. An attack on me and mine, not Cole and his family.
He stops before a door and releases my wrist. “Pull yourself together.”
I cringe, hating his ability to see through me. “I’m…” I shake my head, not sure how to finish my response.
Am I sorry? Embarrassed? Weak?
Ding, ding, ding.
All of the above.
I lower my head and suck in a deep breath. Regrouping.
He leans closer. “Fucking pull yourself together, Nis.” It’s a warning. A vicious growl. “Now.”
I don’t understand his venom, but I focus on doing what he says. I try to wring myself of emotion. To siphon the weakness.
“Don’t fucking break on me.” He grips my chin, raising my face so we’re eye to eye.
The desperation that stares back at me strips the air from my lungs. That’s when I understand he’s not demanding—he’s begging. Pleading.
“The last thing I can handle is your suffering,” he rasps. “Don’t do this to me now.”
My heart squeezes. Chokes.
I lick my lips to ease the blooming tingle and straighten my shoulders.
I have to be strong for him.
I will be strong for him.
“It was a momentary lapse,” I whisper. “It won’t happen again.”
The sorrow staring back at me speaks of disbelief. Of a yearning that could outstrip my own.
“Good.” He releases me, but not before his gaze drops to my mouth, lashing my lips with a visual sweep of unadulterated affection.
I want the kiss he promises. I’d almost kill for it.
“Let’s go.” He reaches behind his back, sweeping open the door to a garage. “We’ll take the Porsche.”
11
Cole
I fill her in on everything I know as I drive toward her apartment. I tell her about the rag that smelled of chemicals. Of the nanny and her staged overdose, along with the gouge marks in my grass at the side
of my property, the divots having come from a fucking ladder still laying in my neighbor’s yard.
“What’s your assessment of the situation so far?” I stop at a set of traffic lights and glance at her, despising the way her hands are coiled in her lap like she’s a meek princess.
She’s upset and I fucking hate it.
“I don’t know. It’s too early to tell.”
That’s bullshit. She’s brilliant. She’s logical. She would already have an idea of what could be happening to Stella and Tobias, along with the statistics on successful retrievals.
“Don’t fuck with me, Nis.” I keep my tone amicable. “You think it’s a bad sign they haven’t called.”
Her silence is loud.
“Tell me.” I lower my window, needing fresh air. Needing anything to clear my head of the static.
“It’s too early to say.”
The traffic light flashes green and I turn onto her street. “Do you think I can’t handle the answer?”
I pull into a parking space across the road from her building’s front door and cut the engine. When I glance at her again, she’s still staring out the front of the car.
“Speculation is a minefield. It’s better if we focus on facts.” She unclasps her belt and opens her door. “Give me ten minutes. I won’t take long.”
“You’re not going alone.”
She pauses in her escape, her ass half off the leather seat when she huffs out a defeated breath.
I’m still the enemy to her. Or that’s what she wants to believe.
“It’s bad enough you brought me here in a shiny dick extension when I shouldn’t be seen with you.” Her eyes plead for understanding. “You’re not escorting me into the building.”
She shoves from the car and closes the door.
I do the same. “I won’t risk you going in alone.”
“I can protect myself,” she hisses over the roof of the Porsche. “At least for five damn minutes.”
She jogs around the hood and across the street, easing into a long stride along the footpath while I follow at a slower pace.
The distance doesn’t feel right. She’s too exposed to any asshole with a trigger finger. But I grind my teeth through the paranoia and keep an eye on our surroundings.
I scan the pedestrians along the sidewalk, considering each of them a potential threat to the woman I crave. I even scrutinize the buildings, checking windows for a sniper attack.
Robert has already proven I underestimated what he was capable of. Now I’m left to contemplate what else he could’ve arranged before his death.
“Anissa,” a male shouts nearby.
I fucking know that voice. Easton.
The piece of shit approaches from the front of her building with a face full of concern, all anxious and uptight.
At least the fucker is wearing clothes.
She stops before him, ramrod stiff. She doesn’t glance over her shoulder at me. She doesn’t have to. Easton does it for her.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice low. “Why is he here?”
I can barely hear him, the low volume spurring me to move faster. Or maybe that’s the desire to stake ownership.
She murmurs something quick in reply. A fast snap of frantic words.
“You need to move in with me for a few days.” He grabs her arms. “I’ll take care of you until you’re back on your feet.”
Like hell he will. Over my goddamn dead body.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” She shakes him off. “Trust me. I just have to…”
Her response trails as I reach her side, her pained exhale brushing my ears.
“Easton,” I sneer in greeting. “Can I help you?”
He keeps staring at her. “Listen to me—this isn’t right. Whatever you’re doing is going to get you in trouble.”
“I appreciate your support.” She gives a fragile smile. “But I’m in control. You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
“You don’t need to come around at all,” I growl. “It’s best if you leave her alone.”
His eyes narrow but he still doesn’t acknowledge my existence.
“Anissa…” He moves forward, triggering my rage as he reaches for her again.
“Hands off, asshole.” I lunge, grabbing his arm.
He yanks away. “Calm yourself, Torian, before I have you arrested.”
The threat is real.
Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit. A set of handcuffs and a few hours behind bars while my lawyers ensured any charges were dropped would be worthwhile to draw my gun on this pretty boy and let him know exactly who’s in charge. But not today. Not when I could get word on Stella and Tobias at any second.
“It’s cute that you think you have any power over me.” I smirk. “Naive, but cute. Are there any other delusions we can clear up while I’m here?”
Anissa glares at me.
“Stay away from her.” Easton puffs out his chest and gets in my face.
“I did.” I keep smirking. “She came to me. It was my gate she was banging on this morning.”
“Jesus Christ,” Anissa hisses. “You two need to quit it. For starters, I was only at your gate because of the shooting last night. And you.” She turns her ire to Easton. “Don’t babysit me. I’m on leave from work, and what I do in that time is my business.”
“You’re obsessing over a criminal you haven’t been able to put behind bars,” he growls. “Let me look after you for a while.”
I snicker. This asshole is talking about taking me down like I’m not even here. Like he has a fucking hope in hell.
“I’m looking after her now.” I slide an arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep her safe.”
She stiffens. Every inch. Every muscle.
“Anissa, this is crazy.” Easton’s face pinches. “You need to think about what you’re doing. Not just with your job, but with me. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” I tighten my hold around her, my jealousy sparking to flame. This asshole has been trying to steal her out from underneath me from the moment we met. But he had his chance. He had all the time they’ve worked together. Fucking years. He only wants her now because she’s mine. “My time with her has proven more productive.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She shoves away. “You two can finish this dick-measuring contest without me. I’m not participating.”
She turns on her heel and storms for her building, leaving me to seethe at Easton as he watches her walk away.
“You need to leave her alone.” He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Otherwise, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars.”
“Is that right?” I huff out a chuckle. “Here I was thinking you should be the one to back off before you go missing.”
His attention cuts to me, his fury nothing in comparison to mine. This man has no passion. No backbone. “Are you threatening an FBI agent, Mr. Torian?”
“It sure sounds like it, doesn’t it? And if you don’t listen, I’ll make sure those fragile parents of yours go missing, too.”
His eyes flare, the surprise instantaneous before his jaw clenches. “You’re blackmailing her as well, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, his laugh patronizing. “The righteous Cole Torian is now manipulating classy women for sport. Why is that? Have all your criminal hags grown tired of your games?”
He hits a mark, a fucking brutal target beneath my ribs. Not about the hags, because fuck him, I don’t slum when it comes to women. But being unable to get Anissa to engage with me without an underlying threat is a sore spot.
“Manipulation is an art.” I keep my voice in check. My smile tight. “What pisses you off more? My ability to easily shape her decisions or the fact you can’t?”
His teeth grind. Nostrils flare. “You know what?” He pokes a finger toward my chest. “Fuck you.” He steps back. Once. Twice. “She might have fallen victim to your games, but I won’t. I’ll figure out what
’s going on, Torian. If I were you, I’d keep my nose squeaky clean.”
If I were you, I’d shut my fucking mouth before a gun barrel fills the open space.
I continue smirking as he gives me a wide berth, stalking around me toward the street to climb into a tin-bucket sedan.
He’s not what Nissa wants.
He might be the safe option, the easy out, but there’s no life in that perfectly crafted box.
She needs intensity and adrenaline.
She needs me.
I wait until he pulls from the curb and drives away before I start after her, stopping at the security panel to unlock the ground-level doors. I glance around for an approaching resident, find nobody nearby, then pull out my wallet and press the coin pocket against the security pad.
She needs a new building manager. The current father of four took too easily to a three-figure bribe when I demanded an access fob.
The fucker didn’t even hesitate when I offered an increased price to obtain a key to her fifth-floor apartment. The only thing keeping him in his job is the fear I witnessed when I assured him he would live to regret betraying her to anyone else.
After a quick elevator ride, I’m standing at her apartment waiting for her anger to greet me after I knock.
She doesn’t disappoint, flinging the door wide, her cheeks pink with rage.
“Finished the pissing contest already?” She doesn’t wait for a reply before walking off, the door beginning to close in her wake.
I shove my foot inside the threshold and follow her, past the shoebox living area with its tiny kitchen to her darkened bedroom with the closed curtains and messy bed, the sheets twisted, the duvet half on the floor.
Blinding jealousy kicks back in as I picture her disheveling the covers with another man. A split second—that’s all it takes for my blood to turn hot and my chest to constrict.
I’ve got more important things to think about, but her betrayal commands my attention.
“You can’t blame me for being territorial.” I indicate her bed with a fling of my hand. “Unlike you, I’m not unaffected by our past.”