by Kian Rhodes
My heart lurched. “We aren’t leaving?”
“Not yet,” Sylas said calmly. “If we do, he’ll just come after you again. We might as well see this thing through.”
“Um, I could call 911?”
“Soon,” Sylas agreed. “After we have something for the cops.”
I knew I was frowning when I settled into the chair Sylas had directed me to. I was watching silently as Sylas tipped the frozen goon up on one foot and dragged him into the small coat closet just inside the motel room door. Then he crossed and tapped lightly on the bathroom door.
“What?” my stepmother snapped, jerking the door open. “I’m almost done..” She trailed off when she saw Sylas standing in front of her, naked as a jaybird. “Who the fuck are you?” She craned her neck to look around the room before demanding, “Where’s Sean?”
“Your partner?” Sylas asked calmly, bracing one hand on the edge of the open door to ensure she couldn’t slam it shut. “He had somewhere to be.”
Rosemary narrowed her eyes at me. “What kind of crap are you trying to pull?”
I kept my eyes trained on the table and pretended not to hear her. Rosemary turned back to Sylas. “What do you want?”
Sylas smirked. “Not a damn thing you have to offer,” he responded, his voice firm. “Why don’t you come on out and join us while we wait for your husband?” he suggested.
I glanced up just in time to see fear race across her face before she masked it.
“I think not,” she announced imperiously, flouncing back a step and jerking the door toward her, obviously intending to catch Sylas off guard. Braced in Sylas’s strong grip, the door remained where it was, the force of Rosemary’s pull making her fingers skitter across the cheap metal knob and sending her fake nails scattering to the cheap carpet as she howled in pain. “You son of a bitch!”
Sylas snorted. “That’s about enough of that,” he said calmly. “Now, would you like to seat yourself at the table or should I help you?”
“I am not…” Rosemary trailed off, her eyes widening in horror as Sylas shrugged and stared down at her feet. “What are you doing? Stop that!”
Sylas ignored her, moving his gaze to where her arms were folded over her chest. When Rosemary opened her mouth to scream, Sylas lifted his gaze again and I watched in amazement as her tongue seemed to freeze, silencing her.
“That’s better,” Sylas said calmly. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Sylas lifted rosemary and half-carried, half-dragged her to the table I sat at, maneuvering her into the chair across from me, the one that had its back facing the door.
Ignoring my stepmother’s angry grunting, Sylas pulled his cell phone from the pouch hanging around his neck and tapped on the screen. I watched the clock as he sent and answered texts at lightning speed before tossing the phone onto the table.
“Oh, one more thing,” Sylas commented, reaching over to lift her chin with his finger, closing her mouth so the mass where Rosemary’s tongue had been was no longer visible. “Now we’re all set.”
“Set for what?” I wondered out loud.
Sylas winked at me and dropped into the third chair at the table. “Now, baby, we wait.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sylas
As it turned out, the wait wasn’t even long enough to comment on.
I heard gravel shooting off moving wheels and stood, pulling a handkerchief and a prepared set of zip cuffs from my pocket as I stepped to Paul’s side.
“You trust me?”
Paul nodded and held his wrists before him, allowing me to slide the cuffs into place.
“I’m not going to tighten them down just in case you need to get them off,” I said quickly when I saw him test them. “So, you need to keep your hands still so it looks real, okay?”
“Right.” Paul stiffened when a knock came at the door.
“It’s okay,” I murmured against his lips as I stole one last kiss before tying the handkerchief around Paul’s head, careful to keep it light against his mouth.
Drawing in a steadying breath, I crossed to the door, throwing it open and stepping into the shadows before the Senator’s eyes adjusted to the change in light. Luckily, he was confident enough in his plan that he blustered into the room without much thought.
“Rosemary!” the Senator snapped when he saw her back facing him. “What are you doing?”
The woman twisted to glance over her shoulder, but with her mouth and hands frozen there wasn’t much she could do to communicate and I was counting on the Senator’s self-important attitude to blind him to her situation.
Shoving the door closed, I leaned against it, crossing my arms over my chest as the Senator spun around, his face twisting with fear before he was able to mask it with forced anger.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, taking a large backward step away from me into the room.
I raised a brow. “What’s wrong? Not happy to see your favorite son-in-law?” When the Senator’s nose wrinkled in distaste, I smirked. “Oh, don’t be like that. After all, Rosemary and I already reached a, well, shall we say, a truce, of sorts.” I had to hold back a laugh as the man’s eyes narrowed at the implication. When he started to turn toward her, I cleared my throat to pull his attention back to me. “And to be clear, she’s leaving the decision making in my hands, so there’s no point in trying to draw her into the conversation.”
“Rosemary?” the Senator snapped her name. “Is this true?”
When no answer came, the Senator responded exactly as I’d expected. He bristled and puffed himself up before glaring at me. “What exactly is it that you think you’re doing?”
I blinked in faux confusion. “Negotiating, of course,” I huffed. “You didn’t really think that your goon was going to just grab my golden goose and that would be the end of it, did you?” I clucked my tongue. “Come now, Stewie. You’re smarter than that.”
“Don’t call me that,” he huffed. “And I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I snickered. “Oh, well, in that case, I guess your wife and me will get on out of your hair to decide what to do with all that money.” I stepped back from the door and reached for the knob. “You have a nice day, you hear?”
“What are you..” the Senator trailed off, his eyes hardening. “Where’s Sean?”
“Is that the goon’s name?” I asked casually. “He wasn’t feeling cooperative, so he had to go.”
“What?” the Senator all but yelled. “Rosemary! What the fuck is going on here? What did this fucker do to my son?”
“Which time?” I asked casually. “I mean, we’ve fucked a lot of different ways.”
When the woman sat stone-faced -literally, as it was- the Senator’s face darkened to an unhealthy red and his breathing became labored. “Where is my son?”
I nodded to the table where Paul sat. “Isn’t that him?”
“Not that fucking bastard,” the Senator growled. “Sean! My real son!”
Despite the anger twisting in my gut, I kept my face relaxed and shrugged one shoulder. “Not the one I’m interested in.” I glanced pointedly at the door. “I thought you were leaving?”
The Senator hesitated and turned back to the table in the corner of the room. “Why exactly do you think that I need you for anything?” he asked haughtily.
“Because as his husband, I’m Paul’s guardian now and that means I have control over his account, remember?” I smirked. “All that money came from putting one cheap ass ring on the slut’s finger and promising him forever.”
The Senator’s eyes flashed and his nostrils flared. In any other father I would have assumed it was in response to me talking about his son that way, but with this prick I knew it was the mention of the money. “What’s that have to do with me?”
“Well, now, I’m glad you asked,” I chuckled. “I sure as shit don’t have any plans to raise his bastard, but since it’s not mine, there’s no legal way for me to get rid of it.” I cock
ed a brow at him. “That’s where you come in.”
“Go on.”
“You convince the prat that knocked him up to sign away his parental rights so I can do as I wish with the kid and Rosie and I just might see our way to a three way split on the money in the trust account.”
The Senator scowled at my use of a nickname for his wife. “And if I just call the cops instead?”
I shrugged. “Then I imagine that we’ll end up in court. Be a shame if too much light was shined on the donor records from the last election, but some things just can’t be helped.” I shook my head. “And of course, we’d also have to have a forensic accountant comb through the financial records of Paul’s trust while you were in charge of it, but I’m sure there’s nothing there to find, right?”
The Senator’s red color drained to stark white so fast that I was briefly afraid he might faint. “You’re bluffing.”
I allowed myself one wide smile. “Probably. Why don’t we find out?”
“I..it will take a couple of days for me to have the parental rights waiver drawn up,” he stammered.
My smile turned into a grin that bared just the slightest bit of my fangs. “There’s one already waiting in your personal email.” I glanced over to the digital clock on the nightstand between the beds. “You have five hours and then I revert to plan B.”
The Senator swallowed. “What’s plan B?”
I shook my head. “It’s strictly needs to know and you don’t.” I gave the door another pointed glance. “You probably ought to get going.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Paul
Even though I knew it was all an act, it was hard for me to ignore the anxiety balling up in my gut as I listened to Sylas coldly outlining his supposed plan to get rid of my baby. When the door finally closed behind the Senator and Sylas crossed to ease the zip cuffs off my wrists, a shiver ran through me at his touch.
“You okay, Tiger?” Sylas murmured in my ear as he brushed his lips over my cheek.
I nodded but kept my eyes on the table.
“Hey,” Sylas reached up to gently remove the gag from my mouth when I didn’t move to do so. “You’re both okay, baby.” He lifted me to my feet and took my chair before tugging me back into his lap. Wrapping his arms around my waist, Sylas laid one hand on my tummy and held me close.
He frowned when I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Paul? Talk to me.”
“I’m okay,” I finally mumbled. “It’s just..” I trailed off and Sylas nodded.
“It’s just hard to trust after everything you’ve been through.”
I nodded again.
Sylas stood and carried me to the bed, gently depositing me on the covers. “Wait here for a minute.”
I was more than a little confused when Sylas returned to the table and dragged my stepmother from her chair and into the bathroom, closing the door when he returned.
“That’s better,” he sighed, dropping onto the bed next to me and pulling me into his arms. “No point in tipping our hand.”
“Our hand?” I parroted, my lips brushing the soft skin on Sylas’s chest.
“Uh huh.” Sylas tugged me higher onto his body until he could reach my lips with his. Then, he took full advantage of the new position to claim my mouth in a bruising kiss that stretched on until oxygen became an issue, leaving us both panting when he finally pulled back. “That’s better,” he murmured. “I was so fucking scared for you.”
I snuggled closer to his chest. “As soon as I heard you in my mind, I knew that you’d find me.” I gave a small laugh. “Which is a weird thing to say since I don’t even understand how that works, to be honest.”
“I’ll explain it sometime,” Sylas promised. “Let’s get through this first, okay?”
“Definitely,” I agreed. “What did you mean about tipping our hand? I mean, I know Bun’s safety is the most important thing, but you’re not really giving them part of my trust fund, are you?”
Sylas winked at me. “I absolutely am. As trustee, I am going to write them each a check for thirty percent of the balance in the account as of right now. The remaining thirty percent is mine.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And I don’t get any of it?”
Sylas chuckled and nuzzled into my neck. “You don’t seem very worried.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “After everything you’ve done for me since we met and never accepted a penny for, I’m not.”
“That’s good to know,” Sylas said softly. “Instead of giving you partial access to your trust fund, which would have required you continuing to have to get permission to spend your own money until you are twenty-five, I asked Drey to open an investment account in your name. All but ninety dollars was set to be transferred from your trust account into the investment account at noon.”
I cocked my head. “Why ninety dollars?”
Sylas shrugged. “That was the minimum amount I could leave in the account without having to get a judge to sign off on closing it.”
I shook my head in amazement. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Oh, Tiger,” Sylas sighed, brushing another kiss over my cheek. “I would do so much more than that for you, baby. Once the money is transferred to the investment account, the interest is immediately available to you while the principle remains invested to ensure that you have a steady income. If you decide to cash out, I’d strongly suggest that you meet with a financial advisor first.”
I laughed. “Isn’t that what you do?”
Sylas gave me a sheepish smile. “It is but I am definitely not a disinterested party, so maybe ask Drey to suggest one. I honestly believe that he has your best interests at heart.”
“What happens now?”
“Now, we wait for backup to arrive. Then, when your asshole of a sperm donor returns with the signed parental rights waiver, we go home.”
I shook my head. “You set all of that up in ten minutes on your cell phone?”
Sylas laughed. “Not exactly. Drey and I worked out the plan for the investment account the other day. Even the transfer was already set up. All I had to do when I got here was have him put together the parental rights form and email it.” He huffed and held me tighter. “As soon as I knew you’d been grabbed, I was pretty damn sure his plan was to ransom you back to me.”
A shiver ran through my body. “I don’t think they actually meant for me to be returned,” I admitted softly. “Earlier Sean said something about how there weren’t going to be any witnesses.”
Sylas growled low in his throat. “They ever pull a stunt like this again and there won’t be.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sylas
When Chuck showed up almost an hour later, he wasn’t alone.
I watched through the dusty glass of the front window as Chuck pulled his SUV around to the back of the abandoned motel, a line of four Harley Davidson motorcycles trailing like ducklings after their mom, a comparison that made me chuckle even as I guessed the riders might not be amused.
When he walked up to knock on the door, though, he came alone.
“It’s open,” I called out, not moving from my spot by the window.
Chuck pushed the door open and then paused for a minute to let his eyes adjust to the gloom. “Here.” Shoving a duffel bag that I knew contained clothes at me, Chuck walked further into the room. “Paul? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, thanks to Sylas.” Paul’s voice was strong as he shoved himself up to a sitting position on the bed with his back to the wall. “How’d you know where to find us?”
Chuck shot me an amused glance but glossed over the truth. “Sy texted me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not keeping secrets from him,” I huffed in annoyance as I pulled on the elastic-waist track pants that were balled up in the bag. “I did text him,” I told Paul as I shook out the t-shirt. “But he actually found our location by following my microchip.”
Paul’s mouth dropped open. “Like, a real m
icrochip?”
I nodded. “Yup. The kind people implant in their pets,” I confirmed. “It has a tracking app for cell phones, so he can always tell exactly where I am.”
“That’s…wow.” Paul shook his head.
I chuckled. “It might seem invasive, but it comes in handy,” I explained. “When I track a scent, I can end up hundreds of miles from where I started and in a time like this, if there’s someone else involved, I need a way to get everyone safely back to civilization.”
“So, he’s kind of a giant snake Uber?” Paul teased with a lopsided grin that made me laugh harder.
“Exactly,” I agreed before turning back to Chuck. “What’s with the entourage?”
Chuck’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Paul from the corner of his eye, but when I nodded, he started to speak. “Rafael and a few of his men.”
That caught my attention. “Rafael Borrero? The Blood Valley wolf?”
Chuck snorted. “I’m not sure that that would be his first choice for how to be referred to,” he pointed out. “He’s also a senior investigator with the Council of Packs, you know.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but no one involved in this is a shifter except me and I’m exempt from Council of Packs law, so what does any of this have to do with him?”
“It doesn’t,’ Chuck confirmed. “They were at the compound following up on a lead for a case when I got your text and Rafe offered to ride along. I figured backup never hurts.”
“True,” I agreed. “They don’t want to wait inside?”
Chuck shook his head. “They’re going to keep an eye out, make sure no one tries to get the drop on us.”
Since there was no polite way to say I was going to be disappointed if the Senator didn’t try to double cross me, I just nodded. “Have a seat and I’ll fill you in.”
I’d just finished outlining my plan when the sound of tires spitting gravel came from the half-open door.
“Shit, I need to grab my partner,” I huffed, ignoring Chuck’s raised eyebrow. “You want to make yourself scarce?”