Or is it?
Chapter Five
The morning after my incredible ménage with my Daddy Duet, my fingers fly over my keyboard. Writing down my experience feels transcendent; it’s as if someone else is doing the typing.
By the end of the day, I have the first three pages, fully edited and in Hubert’s hand. He’s so pleased, he gives me a deadline extension of a week and an advance on the story.
My rent is paid. My ass got laid. And I’m about to turn in the story of a lifetime. For the very first time in history, the Bachmans’ sexy world of kink will be exposed. And I’ll be reaping the rewards of my hard work.
Thinking of my lifelong dreams, obtaining my goals, I push aside the memory of Daddy’s and Papa’s kisses along with the nagging feeling that I shouldn’t be doing this.
A week later, my pretty little freshly manicured plum-colored fingertips type the most wonderful two words in a writer’s vocabulary: ‘The End.’
I hit Print. Stand from my seat and glide through the center aisle passing rows of desks to my right and left, all eyes on me.
Good thing I wore my best dress today with all this attention I’m getting. A deep green silk sleeveless A-line, my purple nails looking festive in contrast to the color of the fabric. Flipping my freshly blown-out hair over my bare shoulder, I stand at the printer, pretending my cheap heels are what they were always meant to be, and what they will soon be; red-bottomed Louboutins.
The pages come out hot and fast. When all of them are printed, I pull them from the tray. Stack them neatly with a nice tap against the table. Holding them in my arm, I cradle them to my chest and take them directly to Hubert’s office.
He always insists the finished manuscript come to him on good old-fashioned paper so he can bloody it with his red pen.
I doubt there will be much of his dreaded ink on these sheets—I know my article is perfection.
Feeling like a boss bitch, I make long strides down the hall, one heel in front of the other. I’m smart and beautiful, and powerful, and I’m going to enjoy this moment. The long hallway is empty and I take the opportunity to pump a fist up in the air and whisper-shout to myself, “I am woman. Hear me roar!”
Adrenaline pumps through my veins and it feels so good that I decide to attempt a three-sixty spin, one like I used to do when I was a little girl and headed somewhere I was excited about. Kicking off my heels, I jump, fly through the air, and spin.
And as I do, I realize why I haven’t done this since I was eight years old.
My ankle gives out as I land, and I fall. My knees burn as they slide across the carpet. My papers go flying. Everywhere.
“Shit! Shit! Double shit!” I crawl across the floor best I can in my dress, picking papers up as I go, trying to put the unnumbered pages back in order. “That was a stupid move.”
I’m picking up the last sheet, just a few feet from Hubert’s closed door. I hear the deep timbre of a voice and it stops me in my tracks. “You really should be more careful.”
Again, I find myself acting like a girl in a horror movie. Slowly, I move my eyes upward to find the owner of the voice. Though I already know exactly who it belongs to.
Before me—the size of a mountain—stands Jet. And by his side, Liam. They’ve got their arms crossed over their chests. And they’re both staring down at me, hard. Fury gleams in their eyes.
“What you got there, little girl?” Liam eyes the papers as I clutch them to my chest.
Their combined gazes emanate heat, making my cheeks burn. My throat feels so tight it’s like someone’s got their hands around it, squeezing. Clearing it, I say, “Just a little paperwork. For HR. You know how it is. You want a day off and you’ve got to fill out a notebook’s worth of—”
Jet holds his hand out to me. “May I see them?”
Clumsily I stand, holding the papers tightly. My knees both have rug burns on them. My shoes are behind me. I clear my throat again. “I’m sorry but that’s against the law. HR documents are strictly private. Have you heard of the HIPAA act?”
Jet’s patience dissolves. “I’m going to read you the bad girl act if those papers aren’t in my hand by the time I count to three.”
What do I do? Hand this mafia villain the proof of my indiscretions? Give him the ammo he needs to throw me in the river, to get rid of me? Let him take my story to Rockland and have him plan how to dispose of my body?
Hell, no.
I’ve got to get out of here. Or die trying. I can scream. I can run. Or I can kick some balls.
I choose balls.
“Fine. But first, I need to tell you one thing. It’s about the way you made me feel the other night.” Pretending to hand the papers over, I step closer to Jet, batting my lashes. Putting one hand on each of his shoulders, the papers wilting in the clutches of my right hand, I lean in so close I can smell the scent of his soap, clean and musky.
He gives me a wary look.
“I had such a fantastic time,” I whisper into his ear. I feel his rock-hard shoulders melt just a bit beneath my touch. I keep it going. “I can’t stop thinking about your cock.”
And that’s when I lift my knee in the air and hit him hard with a rug-burned knee to the crotch.
He doubles over, giving a groan, and I take the opportunity to push past him, straight toward Hubert’s office door. I hear Jet groan and Liam laugh. “Damn, Jet. You got your ass kicked by a little girl.”
My hand is on the handle, ready to open the door and lock myself in with Hubert when I realize they aren’t following me.
Why aren’t they following me?
Looking over my shoulder, I find Jet, still doubled over in pain, and Liam practically doubled over with laughter.
A cold creeping itches its way over my décolleté, up to my clavicle. Pushing down the handle, I swing open the door, looking for Hubert.
I find him. Tied to his chair. Wild eyed with what looks like a sock in his mouth.
His eyes fly open wide and he tries to speak, but the sounds come out in grunts. He tries to roll toward me, scooting in his rolling office chair. I shut the door.
The further I get these guys from this office, the safer Hubert will be. There’s no need to drag him further into this. He’s got grandkids.
I’ve created this mess. And I’m going to fix it.
Turning around to face my mafia men, I hold the papers out like a white flag of surrender. “Here. Take it. Just leave Hubert alone.” They’ve recovered, and they stand side by side, their broad shoulders filling the hallway.
Blocking my way. Surrounding me with their dangerous words.
Jet begins the interrogation. “Didn’t you tell us you weren’t going to write this article? You were warned. You know how the family guards their privacy.”
Liam’s green eyes flash. “Why would you lie? Do you know how we punish girls who lie? And sneak?”
“And disobey?”
I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Yes. I lied. You warned me. And I did it anyway. So, punish me. Do whatever it is you need to do. But leave Hubert out of this.”
Jet gives a shake of his head. “Too late for that, little girl.”
“You should have thought about him before you did this.” Liam stares at me, a hard edge in his gaze.
Hubert shouldn’t have to be mixed up in my mess. “But he had nothing to do with it. I brought the idea up to him!”
Jet makes a scoffing sound. “Like so many before you. Don’t you think he ever wondered why his other employees never turned in a finished article about us?”
Liam’s pissed-off look goes up a notch. “If he cared about you even one iota, he would have warned you off.”
“Not encouraged you,” Jet adds. “But lucky for him, the family is in need of a janitor for their gym. I think he’ll find his new job more suitable.”
They begin to move toward me.
Frantically, I stand on tiptoe, trying to look behind them. Where is everyone? Why is there no one in this hallway?
Visions of dead bodies littering the floor fill my mind. Bile rises in my throat. “But how?”
Liam gives me a wink. “Free pretzel cart.”
“Works every time when we have office work to do,” Jet laughs.
“Yup. We pay the guy. He wheels it in. We make a little announcement that there’s complimentary pretzels on the main floor lobby and just like that—”
Jet finishes his sentence. “They disappear.”
“Don’t even have to pull a trigger,” Liam jokes darkly. Though I’m not entirely sure he’s joking. He hands me my shoes. “Put these on. Now.”
I’m tempted to grab his arm for balance as I slip on my heels, but my hands are shaking and I don’t want him to see. I press one palm against the wall as I slide on a shoe. I switch hands, putting on the other one.
Jet’s mouth is a grim line. “Good girl.”
“So, Hubert is tied up in his office. Everyone else is in the lobby shoveling pretzels in their mouths, and you two are up here to confiscate my article. Well, here it is.” I hand my precious baby, my fame, my fortune, printed on those sheets of paper, to Jet, and he takes it from me. “No one else has seen it. Hubert insists on a paper copy, so I haven’t even sent it in one single email.”
“We know.” Jet rolls it up into a tube. Holds it in his hands. Taps his open palm with one end of it. Tap, tap, tap. “The only thing left is for us to take care of you.”
His words make me tremble. “You have the article. What more do you need?”
They stare at me, answering in unison. “You.” Their one word strikes me right in my heart.
I start to back away from them.
They move in like bodyguards. “We can talk about this,” Jet gives my ass a sharp swat with the rolled-up papers, “later.”
They flank me on either side. Lock each arm in one of theirs. Guide me down the hall.
We take the back staircase. It’s icky with a weird smell and your shoes stick to the floor when you walk. No one uses it, as Jet and Liam already seem to know. We exit out the back door into an alleyway.
There’s a huge black truck waiting for us. One of those super expensive ones that’s more like an SUV on the inside. I guess if I’m going to be kidnapped, it might as well be in style. “Let me guess—we’re going in here. You are taking me out to the desert or something to shoot me and leave me for dead?”
“Don’t be a drama queen. Get in.” Liam opens the door, holding it for me. As I climb in, he gives my ass a hard swat. I sit in the seat, taking in my surroundings. There’s already a driver. And a second dark-haired man in the passenger seat.
Liam says, “Shove over, little lady. You’re in the middle.”
I slide over the leather seat, making room for my bodyguards. Satisfied I’m in my place, Liam walks around the front of the truck, getting in on my left. Jet climbs in on my right. One on each side, they squeeze me between them. The heat from their bodies transfers to mine, their huge biceps pressed against my bare arms.
This is going to be a wet ride.
Only now that we’re out of the building and I’m locked in a car with two strange men and two angry daddies, I’m too scared to be turned on. What do they want to do to me?
Despite my fear, there’s something so safe feeling about being sandwiched between Liam and Jet, the very men I’m not entirely sure don’t want to kill me. The irony is not lost on me.
No one is talking. They seem comfortable with the silence—I guess because they’re all over six foot tall and in no danger of being thrown off a bridge right now—but it’s putting me even more on edge. The truck pulls out onto the busy street, cars making way for it as if they know how deadly the men inside of it are.
I fill in the tense, empty space with nervous, rattling words. “So, guys. What’s the plan now? We go out for a few drinks? Maybe a round of mini golf. Too bad it’s odd numbers, we won’t be able to play teams.”
No answer.
I try again. “You know, you could just take me home. We’re only a few blocks from my building. Drop me off and you’ll never see me again. I’ll put my writing career away and get a waitress job or something.”
No takers. Now sweat is dotting beneath my arms, threatening to ruin my silk dress. I want to ask a thousand questions. I want to demand answers, but I’m scared.
I sit quietly between Jet and Liam. Waiting. Wanting some bit of information. Some scrap that will tell me what is happening.
Maybe just for one of them to tell me I’m going to live to see another day. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes. Just when I think they’re going to fall, I feel a reassuring hand squeezing my knee.
Liam.
I turn to give him a grateful smile, a thank you for this one small kindness, but I can’t catch his eye, his gaze focused on looking out the window. But he leaves his hand where it is.
As we drive through the city, I find my head lolling to the side. Riding in the backs of cars has always made me sleepy. I feel a big hand on the side of my head, pulling it down onto Jet’s broad shoulder. He says only one word, but there’s enough warmth in it to relax me. “Rest.”
With Liam’s hand on my knee and my head on Jet’s shoulder, I fall asleep in the back of the big black truck, no idea where I’m headed.
Or what my fate will be.
When I wake, I have no idea what time it is. That’s when I realize I don’t have my phone. Or my purse.
Or anything.
We left my office without any of my stuff. They came and took me away. No one even knows I’m gone.
Someone will find my purse, my laptop. They’ll wonder where I disappeared to, whether I was captured. And they’ll have no idea where to look. Or who to call.
With my grandparents gone, I’ve no real family to speak of and I’ve always kept a distance from my co-workers. It helps me focus and stay sharp, not getting tangled in the webs of gossip and jealousy.
It also limits my number of friends and contacts in a situation like this.
Looking out the window, I can see we’ve left the city, but I’ve no idea where we are or how long we’ve been driving for. “Where are we?” I ask no one in particular, assuming I’ll not get an answer anyway.
Liam turns to me and when our eyes lock, I feel calm. Within the soft green of his irises is empathy. “It’s going to be a long ride. We’ll drive through the night. Let us know if you need to stop.”
Code words for bathroom break. Now that he says it, I have a desperate need to pee. Pressing my legs together, I say, “I could use a... break.”
“We’ll stop soon. But don’t try anything crazy, or we won’t stop again and you’ll be wetting those panties,” Jet growls.
“Gross,” I mumble.
“Are you hungry?” Liam’s hand strokes my leg.
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “A little. I’d like to know where you’re taking me before we stop.”
No answer.
When I speak again, I’m surprised by how small my voice sounds, how much fear I hear in my own words. “Just tell me if you’re going to hurt me.”
“You’re safe with us.” Liam’s hand slides up my knee, taking my trembling hand into his big, rough one. “We’re the ones keeping you from being hurt.”
Jet’s low voice grumbles, “But that courtesy is not extended to your ass, young lady. That will be hurting plenty.”
Despite Jet’s harsh words, I almost want to smile with relief. “Then if you aren’t after me, who is?”
“The leader of the Brotherhood is not pleased with you.”
“That’s a gross understatement, Liam.” Jet shifts in his seat, folding his arms over his chest with displeasure.
Rockland—the big man with the dark eyes that’s the head of the Bachman family. I think back over the facts I know. Liam and Jet seem to have some sort of surveillance setup going on in the warehouse. They were sent t
o watch me when Rockland first got word of my article.
And now they are saving me from the Brotherhood.
I ask. “Does this mean... you have to leave your apartment, your jobs, to take care of me?”
“Ding, ding, ding. What’s her prize?” Jet snorts. “We’ve been relocated. Reassigned to the country to keep you away from Rockland till he knows what he wants to do with you. Thanks to you pissing him off, the only way we could get you out of there unscathed is if we promised to get you out of town.”
Liam gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re worth it.”
His soft words cover me like a warm blanket. “Thanks,” I mumble.
Because I wrote the article, Jet and Liam have to uproot their lives, leave their jobs, the Village. I feel terrible that I’ve put them in this position of having to save me from Rockland’s wrath, but for now, I’ll let them.
I stare ahead, every minute we ride stretching my bladder further. “Guys, um... I have to... tinkle.”
Is that a laugh I hear from one of the dudes in the front seat? My face burns, but three of us are about to be sitting in pee if we don’t stop. “Please?”
Liam reaches forward, tapping the shoulder of the driver. “Let’s stop.”
I look out the window. It’s evening, but the sky is darkening quickly. We’re surrounded by woods. “Here?”
“Yes, princess. You’re going to have to tinkle in the woods,” Jet says. The car pulls over into the embankment. Jet opens his door. “I’ll take her.”
His hand locks around my arm like a vise. “Try your little knee me in the balls trick again and you’re going to be bent over that hood, getting a belt to your ass for all the guys to see. You get me?”
“Got it.”
I climb out of the truck, with his forced assistance. As we creep toward the woods, I’m suddenly more scared than I was in the car. Panic fills my chest and my feet turn to lead. I can’t move.
Jet gives me an exasperated look. “Get going or I’m seriously going to let you pee your pants.”
“I... can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m... afraid of the dark.”
Jet’s brow furrows. “It’s not even that dark out here.”
Daddies: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Page 6