I shrug. “I don’t know what else to tell you. But I’m afraid. Like, really afraid of the dark.”
He studies my face, trying to decide if this is another trick. It’s not. When he’s satisfied that I’m not messing around, he shoves his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone. With one hand, he flips the flashlight on.
It’s bright and I shield my eyes, squinting against the light. He points it to the woods, and the powerful little flashlight brightens the way.
“Thank you,” I murmur as we move forward.
“Don’t mention it.” As we walk, sticks break and dried leaves crackle under our feet. Sounds that would normally have me running toward the paved road. With Jet by my side, and his flashlight, I don’t feel so afraid. “Any reason in particular you’re afraid of the dark?”
“I just. Don’t like it much.” I don’t share the story of how one dark and rainy night, my dad lost control of the wheel, causing the car to crash, my mother and father not responding to my cries, my shaking of their shoulders. Leaving me wandering alone in the dark, searching for help.
He puts his arm around my shoulders.
We go deeper into the woods. He pulls me behind a big tree, out of sight of the truck and the road. “If I let go of your arm so you can do your business, are you going to run?”
“Do you even need to ask that?” I say, my eyes looking left and right for murderers, or bears, or ghosts, or bigfoot—anything could be lurking out here.
He gives a soft laugh. “Fine.” He releases my arm.
I stand there, staring at him dumbly, waiting for him to make like a tree and leave.
He does not.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch me pee?”
“I don’t trust you, so yes.”
“Pervert,” I mumble under my breath, but I can’t hold it much longer. Reaching under my dress, I shimmy my panties down over my hips, pulling them down to my ankles to try to keep them clean.
“Just give them to me. There’s no way you’re not going to pee all over them.”
He’s right. I step out of my little fuchsia panties, handing them over to him. He takes them, slipping them into his pocket.
“You’re going to give those back, right?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not!”
“Payback for the knee to the balls. Now go.”
Grabbing the hem of my dress, I pull it up as far as I can while still trying to maintain an ounce of my dignity.
“Why are you hiding? I’ve seen it all before,” he says with a lecherous look.
I step wider, spreading my legs, and bend my knees, squatting over a pile of leaves. “I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Just be sure to drip dry, since you won’t have any panties to help you.”
“Ugh. Gross. Could you look away or something?” My bladder hurts, but beneath his steely gaze I can’t release the stream of pee I so desperately need to.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stands there, eyes locked on me. “No.”
I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. Swallow down the shame and release.
The sound it makes as it hits the leaves furthers my humiliation. And the length of time it goes on. But a few seconds later, I’m so relieved, I almost don’t care. When I’m finished, I’m left with another task—dripping dry.
How does one do that?
Saying farewell to my beautiful silk dress that’s surely going to be ruined, I shake my hips, attempting to clean up.
He’s shining his flashlight on my face, watching. “That’s pretty cute,” he says.
“Ugh,” I groan. Quickly, I slip my dress back into place. I stand before him, this time wanting him to take my arm. It seems even darker than when we first ventured out to the woods.
We walk back to the car. He lifts me up, helping me in. I slide in next to Liam, and Jet climbs back into his seat. A tickle of happiness fills me, to be back in the safe car, between their warm bodies. I squirm in my seat from the new sensation of wearing no panties beneath my short dress.
Liam says, “Are you still hungry?”
I nod. “Yes. But I don’t see anywhere to stop for food.”
“Victoria has us covered,” Jet says.
Just hearing the sound of my friend’s name makes me release a deep breath. “She knows where I am?”
He says, “Yes. She knows that we have you and we’re taking you away from the city. She packed us some food.”
She must have been so pissed when she heard I went ahead with the article. I can just imagine her blue eyes flashing as she tells me off. “How much does she know?”
“Enough,” Jet says, ending the discussion. He leans over the back of the seat, pulling out a small cooler. He takes waxed paper-wrapped packages out, passing them around the truck. I peel back the paper from what he hands me. She’s made sandwiches—she always made the best ones with the perfect ratio of mayo to mustard. My mouth starts to water.
Before I take a bite, I say, “I’m going to ask a question, but judging by the way things have been going, I’ll assume you won’t answer.”
Liam says, “Never hurts to ask.”
“How did you know I was going forward with the article?”
“Do you really want to know the answer?” Liam asks.
“Yes.” At least I think I do.
“Jet and I are, or were, in charge of surveillance of the family’s businesses. Keeping an eye out on employees—”
Jet snorts. “And naughty journalists.”
Liam continues. “When Rockland told us to keep an eye on you, we bugged your computer, your phone, your apartment. We have access to every text, every email, every file.”
My stomach drops. They basically had access to my thoughts, my mind. Every private conversation, every word I typed out on my computer.
I’m no longer hungry.
Folding the paper back over my food, I sit in shock.
“Your book is really good,” Jet says in between bites. “Had me up half the night. Couldn’t put it down. That’s what you ought to be writing instead of the naughty gossip trash you write now.”
Anger rises in my chest. “You read my book? How dare you. I’ve never shared my real writing with anyone!” Of all their invasions of privacy, this is the worst one, the one that hurts the most.
Liam adds softly, “You’re talented, Lulu.”
Tears burn in my eyes. “It wasn’t ready for anyone to read. Not yet.”
“How long have you been working on it?” Jet takes a sip from a bottle of water, passing it over me to Liam.
“I don’t know. A couple of years.”
“Years?” Liam takes a swig of water. “Why so long?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know. I guess I just thought it wasn’t good enough to let anyone else read it.”
Jet says, “Do you want my opinion?”
“Not really.”
Jet says, “Well, I’m going to give it to you anyway. Get used to it because that’s what daddies do. I think you were never going to show anyone that book. And it’s a damn shame too because it’s really good.”
A voice flows from the front seat as the driver says, “And that’s saying a lot coming from him. He never reads.”
Jet nods to the seat the voice came from. “Meet Flyboy. He’s our driver, lookout, member of the Brotherhood.”
Flyboy catches my eye in the rearview mirror and I can see why he got his name. The dude is hot. With his high cheekbones and chiseled jawline, he could be a model. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Though I feel as if I already know you after Chapter Three. It was a real mind fuck. You’ve got a sharp brain in that pretty little head of yours.”
“You read my book too?” I whine.
“Clark here,” the man in the passenger seat says. “I really like what you did with that surprise ending. You never see it coming.”
Resting my head
on the back of the seat and closing my eyes, I let out a groan. “I can’t believe this.”
“Take it as a compliment,” Jet says. “Now eat.”
Holding my meal in my lap, I say, “I’m no longer hungry.”
He gives me a stern look. “Eat. Now.” His tone is so father-like, I almost want to stick my tongue out at him.
But I don’t risk it.
I unwrap the bread and raise it to my lips, nibbling at a corner. “You can’t make people eat, you know.”
Just like a real daddy, he says, “I can and I will. Do you want me to have this car pulled over so I can show you how?”
“No, thank you,” I mumble, taking a real bite. It’s good and it reminds me of Victoria. I finish it off, feeling a little bit better.
We ride into the night, and I fall asleep again, this time my head on Liam’s shoulder because I’m still mad at Jet for taking my panties.
Chapter Six
We stop for a bathroom break on the side of the road one more time, Jet taking me far away from the other men when they go. We eat another sandwich, we munch on a few cookies that Charlotte baked for us.
And we drive.
At one point in the journey, a fleet of three black Escalades, their windows tinted dark, roll by us slowly in the passing lane. One passenger window rolls down and a man with gold flecks in his irises stares directly into my eyes.
“What the fuck?” Flyboy hits the brakes and the cars zoom ahead of us.
“They won’t bother us.” Liam rests his head against the window. “Just Rockland’s men being sure we followed orders.”
I squirm in my seat, remembering the power and danger of the men I ride with.
When it feels as if we’ve been in the car for ten hours, the road begins to rise into low hills. The trees on the side of the road grow denser. The sky lightens just a touch, as if sunrise will be soon.
I watch out the window, the pinks turning to reds and oranges, the bright ball of the sun rising above the tree line. “It’s beautiful.”
Liam gives me a quiet smile. Jet snores, his head against the glass.
Liam’s been softer on this trip, kinder. While Jet’s turned into a kind of grumpy daddy. Something was a catalyst for their change in demeanor. Being forced to choose saving me over their dreams?
Either way, I find myself liking the contrast between them, each of them making me feel safe and taken care of in their own unique way.
Even if they are my kidnappers. Kidnapping me for a good cause, I guess—keeping me away from Rockland—which makes their crimes excusable.
Now it’s daylight. The sun is streaming in the windows and I spot bigger hills in the distance.
“Mountains,” I breathe. As we grow closer, they dip and fall, disappearing behind the trees, then climbing taller until they spread out in long rows of beautiful hazy blue expanses, rows of mountains. “Why are they blue?”
Liam says, “It’s the Blue Ridge Mountains. We’re headed to Archer.”
“Archer?” I think back to Charlie in the jewelry store saying the same name, only now I realize she wasn’t saying the name of a man. It was the name of a place. “Archer, as in the Mountain?”
Liam’s brow crinkles. “How’d you know about the Mountain anyway?”
I shake my head, not wanting to get Victoria into trouble. “It’s nothing.”
Archer, the Blue Ridge Mountains...we must be headed outside the city of Archerville, a little hippy town I know only by a few of the patchwork dresses I’ve ordered online.
Does the Bachman family own their own mountain?
And if so, why are Liam and Jet taking me there?
I save my questions—Jet’s awake now and there’s no way I’m getting answers. Instead, I busy my mind with enjoying the beautiful scenery.
It’s gorgeous. The landscape keeps changing colors as we draw nearer. A deeper blue in the further mountains, a brighter blue in the closer ones. The peak of one range looks like a funny old man’s face.
Liam points to where I’m looking. “That one’s Grandfather Mountain.”
“I can see why.”
As we climb, the roads become windier, the truck hugging the curves as we round the side of the hill. We’re so close to the guardrail, I fear we’ll fall over the side, tumbling down the rocky ledge. Without thinking, I grab Liam’s arm with one hand, Jet’s with the other.
My gesture receives a soft smile. From both of them.
I smile back to each in turn. Liam takes my hand in his, the rough pads of his fingers stroking my skin.
Jet takes his arm from my hand, wrapping it around my shoulders. It feels nice.
Snuggling back into the seat, I enjoy the ride.
Reading the signs, I find we’re riding along the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s exciting, though a little too narrow and curvy for my taste. I may be a fierce woman, but things like this scare me.
It’s not so bad, though, since I’m stuck between Jet and Liam.
Daddy and Papa.
I surprise myself by thinking of them by their sexy nicknames. Sneaking a peek at Liam out of the corner of my eye, I find the lines of his face already familiar, though we haven’t spent that much time together.
And Jet. His dark hair hangs over his left eye, hiding my peeping gaze from his view. I stare at his chiseled jaw, his high cut cheekbones. Taking him in, as if he’s mine.
His arm tightens around me, his fingers wrap around my shoulder, offering a soft squeeze.
We travel over a magnificent bridge that’s been cut into the mountainside. Through a tunnel that’s dark and scares me nearly half to death, Liam giving my hand a tighter hold.
Then Flyboy turns the truck off the main road onto a very narrow, super bumpy gravel road. The entrance is cut into the trees in such a way, you’d not even notice it if you were to drive by it.
Only one car can fit. It’s as if whoever made this path wanted it that way. One way in, one way out.
We climb up the steep road, my ears popping as we go. I put a finger to my ear. Liam takes notice of my gesture and tells me to yawn, that it will help release the pressure. I do as he says, there’s a popping sound in my ear, and it feels clear again.
There’s an SUV blocking our path. It looks like one of the three from earlier.
Jet leans up in his seat. “What’s this?”
“Some of the Brothers from earlier. They passed us on the road. I assumed they were making sure we had Lulu.”
Jet takes a long look at the driver. “That’s not anyone I recognize.”
The SUV pulls over off the road, letting us pass.
Jet puts a hand on the driver’s shoulder. “Nice and easy, Fly. We have no idea what they are here for or who sent them. Just another reason for me to be here—their security sucks. We’ve got to get this road gated further down by the highway.”
Flyboy pulls the truck up to the car. Liam’s arm shoots around me, protective and heavy, making me wonder if we are in immediate danger.
A gasp leaves my throat when I see what Flyboy and Clark pull from their hips. Guns. Real ones, the black metal catching the early light. I’ve never seen one in person and my skin goes cold.
Flyboy rolls down the window, but it’s Jet who speaks, craning his neck between the front seats. “You men lost?”
The driver of the SUV speaks with a heavy accent, maybe Italian? “We are here visiting. Our two families have a connection, one your leader might be interested in tightening. We’ve heard that your family’s compound is further up this road and we would like to speak with him. Is he here?”
Jet gives a tight smile. One that spells back off. “Our boss is a busy man. I’ll save you the trip—he’s not here. But we’ll be sure to tell him you called.”
The man reaches down into his suit jacket, a move that instantly has the men in our car on edge, their shoulders tense. But all he retrieves from it is a creamy white business card. “Here’s the contact information for Vincent. He runs the show.”
<
br /> Flyboy takes the card, handing it back to Jet.
Jet gives his farewell. “Careful going back down the hill. You never know what lurks in the woods.”
The driver gives a curt nod. Flyboy rolls the window up. We pull forward, passing the SUV.
Heaving a sigh, Jet sits back in his seat. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us, doesn’t it, Liam?”
Liam gives a nod.
And we continue up the road. When I think we can go no higher, a set of huge black wrought-iron gates appear as if out of nowhere.
“Where are we?” I breathe.
Jet stares out the window. “Welcome to Mount Archer.”
“Known to the family as the Mountain.” Liam wraps an arm around my shoulders.
My jaw drops, my mouth hanging open as I watch Jet type a code into his phone. The gates begin to slowly swing open on their own.
Flyboy pulls the truck slowly past the gates. We wind up further about a quarter of a mile, and the road goes from dusty gravel to smooth black pavement. Jet turns over his shoulder to be sure the gates have closed the full way.
We ride the narrow road into a forest. Then the forest clears into a wide expanse of manicured green lawn. I sit up further in my seat, trying to get the best view I can between Flyboy and Clark.
Stonework lines the road. Topiary bushes cut into huge green-leaved animals rise from the ground. An audible gasp escapes my throat when a mountain top, red brick mansion comes into view. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The place is unreal. I reach over with my free hand, pinching my thigh to be sure I’m not dreaming.
It’s massive. Tall and proud with huge picture windows twice as tall as Jet. The huge dark wood doors reach up to the sky. The cedar shake roof line rises and falls in several places, the architecture reminiscent of an old-world grand mansion.
We pull forward down the paved road, under a brick awning that must have been a carriage house at one point.
Staff members rush from the inside, dressed in crisp white clothing. They open doors, offer glasses of water from silver trays, flutes of champagne.
I climb down from the truck, wondering what the proper protocol is. I grew up pretty broke in my little Upstate New York town and I find myself overwhelmed by the opulence. But only long enough to pause before reaching for a delicate flute. “Thank you,” I say, offering a polite curtsey.
Daddies: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Page 7