by Kate Stewart
Call the police…
After quickly dialing the three digits, I placed the phone to my ear and waited for the automatic connection. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”
“Please, my son—” I didn’t get the chance to say more. The phone disappeared from my ear, and I lost my grip. I spun around and found another hulking body standing over me. This gooney was just as large as the last. His sharp jaws, amber eyes, and shoulder length blond hair was almost Nordic.
“No police,” he grunted with an American accent.
My body swayed and threatened to hit the concrete. Fear for my son replaced desperation at the knowledge I was being watched. Why hadn’t Angel just taken me when he had the chance? What game was he playing?
“Will you take me to him?”
He shook his head. “Not my orders.”
Before I could argue or scream as I should have, he disappeared with the throwaway. Fifteen minutes later, I hailed a cab.
“Where to?” the cabbie impatiently demanded. He was already eager to get to his next fare. I recited the address I was grateful to have committed to memory. He turned around and stared with a knowing gaze. Under normal circumstances, I could never afford this type of fair. I reeked of poverty. “It’s going to be two hours because of traffic.”
I swallowed my scream of frustration. I had already lost too much time finding a cab. Art’s home was hidden deep in the rich suburbs of Illinois where buses didn’t venture because everyone drove foreign cars—not to mention the only thing out there were rich families who lived miles apart.
The cabbie wasn’t done trying to dissuade me. “It’s going to be expensive.”
Slowly, I pulled the cash I had made from the pawn and with shaking hands, slapped it against the window dividing us. “This is nine hundred dollars. It’s all yours if you can get there sooner.”
Wordlessly, he turned back and gunned the engine. My head rested against the backrest of the cab. My innocent baby had fallen into the hands of a monster. And the boy who protected me for six years and taught me how to throw a punch was that monster.
After my mom had died, my father’s light and zest for living never returned. Gone were the days when he taught me how to make the best of life even during sad times. His lessons had become nothing but a myriad of harsh realities and truths.
But there was one lesson I’d never forget…
One day, someone is going to cause you pain. When that day comes, you show them what hell feels like.
Before Mom had died, my father would always promise he’d be there to fight all of my battles. When she was gone, I stubbornly never let that part of him go. Even when he did.
Angel was sickened by the hold my father had on me.
He knew how much my father’s absence hurt me. I knew how much he hurt me. My father knew, too. He just hadn’t cared.
“We’re here, Miss.” I jerked upright and looked out the cab windshield. The beautiful monstrosity was even bigger in daylight. It wasn’t the only difference. The stone wall that surrounded the acres was now adorned with a metal gate. On the left pillar was a keypad. I was running out of time and was unsure of how to get inside. He never mentioned a code. Had it been in the phone?
Frantically, I looked at the time on the dash.
I’m out of time.
Just as I felt the first tremble of grief, the metal gates slowly opened inward, clearing a path.
Sagging against the dingy seats, I simply breathed. The cab drove through the gates, and when the car stopped once again, I took the wad of cash I promised and handed it to the driver.
I was gutted when he accepted the money without remorse. He was grossly overpaid, but the gleam in his eyes told me he didn’t care that I was back at square one. I had no money to feed us if we made it out of this alive. Caylen needed a doctor, and now I didn’t even have the cash to pay for the visit. Our future wasn’t looking any brighter than our present.
Not for the first time, I considered giving him up if I wanted him to survive. I needed his survival more than my own.
The taxi took off as soon as I shut the door, and I wished for the world to stop, even if only for a moment.
I climbed the familiar steps lined with fresh flowers and thick, green bushes. I didn’t have time to admire the landscape when I was here three nights ago, but the beauty was more than I expected from ruthless men. I waited for a beat in front of the gargantuan doors.
The closest house was miles away. Help was miles away. Could I really do this?
At some point, while I stood there deliberating, the right door opened. A woman dressed in an ugly, navy dress stood in the doorway with a sour expression. I would need an ally if escape was necessary. Could she be it? I searched her face for signs of kindness.
“Mr. Knight has been expecting you. I presume you are Ms. Ross?”
Nope. Not friendly.
“I presume I am,” I answered with mock propriety. Angel had waged a war when he took my son. Anyone he associated with was the enemy. I guess that included the help.
She lifted her nose higher in the air and stepped away to clear a path inside without losing her pinched expression.
“He awaits you in the common room.”
“Oh, does he? Tell him I await him here, and I’d like him to bring my son who he kidnapped. I presume you know about that?” She pinned me with a stare unbecoming of hired help and walked off without offering a response. She had to be an employee. I saw none of Angel’s features in her, and Angel didn’t strike me as the type to prefer women twice his age. She was either loyal to a fault, or he paid his help well not to ask questions.
While she was gone, I admired the opulence a second time. Everything was grander in the light of day. I was almost sure the entry was larger than my entire apartment. I used to think my humble home was the stuff of dreams, a castle in its own right, but then the fairy tale ended, and I was left in rags.
It was obvious that Angel hadn’t suffered from the loss of his father. Why Angel would go through so much trouble because of a stolen watch? He even let me go…
I’ll see you soon.
He warned me.
He told me this would come, and I chose not to believe him. I chose to live in the past and ignore the man he was today. I couldn’t give him the watch back since I sold it and now I didn’t even have the money. Would he consider other options for restitution?
Goose bumps spread over my skin.
Angel had been terrifyingly crafty for his age. How much worse could he do as a man?
The possibilities were enough to give me nightmares. The watch I’d stolen was just one of many. I was surprised he even noticed it was gone. Despite all he had, he chose to use an innocent child—my child—as his pawn. It was beyond cruel. And it will kill him.
Angel Knight was undoubtedly a dead man and this nightmare wouldn’t end until I saw that he truly was.
“Mian.”
Every part of me froze.
The voice that arrested me was deep and commanding and did as designed.
It stole my obedience.
I turned and was slut struck by the sight of his large body dominating the open space.
He seemed taller. He was definitely bigger, and…
Oh god…
Sexier than he was three years ago.
His hair was shorter and looked much fuller now. The low trimmed beard framing the bottom of his face was new and promised a nice tickle to whatever lucky girl’s thighs he stuck his face between.
“You made it on time. I’m impressed. I was beginning to think maybe sending your son to you one piece at a time would do the trick.”
His sick threat freed me from the brief lapse in sanity his face and body had caused. The only part of me that mattered broke at the thought of my son being hurt.
“Where is he?” I was forced to speak through clenched teeth.
“In due time.”
“I want him now, or I swear to God—”
&n
bsp; “Be careful what promises you make.”
“I will find a way to kill you,” I finished anyway.
“No, you won’t.” His confidence was nauseating. “Because if you fail, you die and you’re afraid to die.”
“I’m not afraid to die,” I lied.
“Maybe not. But you’re afraid of what will happen to your son if you die. Your mother is dead. Your father is locked up. Your only known family wants nothing to do with you….” He paused, waiting for me to react. After my aunt and uncle had refused to help me for the sake of my son, they became nothing to me just as I had always been to them. “I think you’ll cooperate,” he finished when I didn’t react.
“I hate you.” The declaration seemed childish in the face of evil. Angel had been guarded when we were kids, but this was more. Something had cut out his heart and locked away his soul just to take over his body.
“As opposed to what? Loving me?”
The thought of loving someone as cold and cruel as he was made me wish I’d puke on his expensive shoes, so I chose not to respond.
We both knew the truth. It first happened when I was twelve. He’d been eighteen at the time. It was impossible for either of us not to see. Since then it was promised that he’d do whatever it took to push me away and make sure it stayed buried.
But it never did.
Our years together had been ritualized. Some days, he’d treat me as if I were an infestation he couldn’t get rid of. He would barely muster the kindness to extend a hello or at the very least respond to one. He’d go out of his way to avoid me even though we both knew it would never do any good. Other days, when tip-toeing around each other hurt too much, he’d let me in. This was usually during the summers when we were stuck alone together all day for two months. He’d teach me how much fun trouble could be. Sometimes, I even pretended to like those movies filled with testosterone and bullets so he’d let me be alone with him in a dark room.
And then it always happened.
I’d get too close, and he’d pull away.
“You could make this all go away.” The cold calculation in his tone scared away our memories.
“How?”
“Give me back my property.”
“I can’t do that.”
His jaw tightened. “And why is that?”
I was tempted to gulp like some cheesy cartoon. “Because I sold it.”
His fingers pinched my skin as he dragged me deeper inside. I wrestled to get away, but it did no good as he manhandled me upstairs. He didn’t stop until we were in front of his father’s office. Flinging open the door, he pulled me inside an empty room and used his free hand to slam the door shut. But even trapped, his hand clutching my arm failed to let go.
“Explain.”
“I think I was pretty clear.”
His hand tightened, causing me to wince. I could tell by the muscles working his jaw that he was grinding his teeth. “Who was the buyer?”
“So you can steal his family and threaten him, too? No chance.”
Surprisingly, he let me go and stalked across the room. When he rounded the desk, he planted himself behind it and glared. “I’m just going to jump right in and remind you that I have your son and now I have you,” he boasted. “I’m willing to use your son to get what belongs to me. How hard I push depends on you. If you want to continue this game, know that I don’t intend to play fair.”
I pretended to think it over first. “Nice speech, but you forget I know you and I’m not afraid of you.”
He tipped his lips, smiling lazy, and said, “You still thinking that?”
“It’s not something I doubt.”
“Your mouth hasn’t changed.”
“So your pretty pink lips say.”
His frown deepened. “Come again?”
Shit.
I didn’t mean to repeat his words from years ago, but the heated whisper in which he spoke them were engraved in my memory.
“Nothing. Uh… It’s nothing.”
His stare grew more intense by the second and then suddenly he was a blank canvas again. “Who was your buyer? Don’t make me ask again.”
“There’s nothing you can do that will make me give up an innocent man.”
“Innocent?” His eyes blackened and narrowed as he stood up and planted his fist on the desk. “You think he’s innocent? What do you think he plans to do with it?”
The door bursting open interrupted my chance to answer. The two heartthrobs from the other night sauntered in.
Man Bun spotted me first. “Hey, you made it!” His grin was bright and honest as if he believed I accepted an invitation to a dinner party instead of rescuing my son. Under normal circumstances, I would have admired the two dimples residing in his perfect cheeks. His bone structure made me itch to sketch him.
The broody one acknowledged me with a head nod and a passing glance. His chosen trick of distraction was his open shirt displaying his bare chest. He wore dress pants, thank fuck. I might have had a stroke if they had been missing, too.
I had literally been handed every woman’s wet dream on a silver platter. I was alone in a room with three of the world’s finest specimen of men, and I wasn’t even enjoying it.
“Are we all good here?” Broody questioned. He was eyeing me as if I were the one who couldn’t be trusted.
“We are. Our guest was getting ready to tell me who she sold my property to.”
“I was not.”
“Are you stupid or just ready to die?” The growl that came from Angel’s brooding companion was as real as if he were actually a predator of the jungle. I wasn’t expecting it, so I froze just as an easy prey would. I should have faced him off. Give him the confrontation he so clearly craved. But instead, my gaze shifted to Angel, who passively stood by, fully prepared to let this man bulldoze over me. He clearly had no intention of stepping in if this got ugly.
Give ‘em hell then.
Resigned to fight my own battles, I took as many steps necessary until only an inch separated my nose from Broody’s chest. Convincing fearlessness required I tilt my head enough to kill him with just a look.
Sadly, he didn’t die. He smirked and then amped up his glare to rival my own.
“It’s true, I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes in my life, but,” I popped my lips for emphasis, “I’m willing to bet nada plus zilch doesn’t equal the same for both of us. So, tell me. How many bullies will it take to screw in your light bulb?”
He didn’t answer me, but his lips did the same twitchy thing Angel’s did when he was amused but preferred to hide it. “I see we have our work cut out for us,” he answered. His gaze never left mine, but I had a feeling he wasn’t speaking to me. Angel grunted, confirming my suspicion. Seriously, what was up with these men and their aggressive—albeit panty melting—sounds that really meant nothing?
Broody’s gaze dipped as he rubbed his chin. “I never minded a little hard work, Sprite.”
My body jerked at his use of the nickname Angel christened me with when we were kids. Well… I was a kid. He was legally a grown man for most of it, which was also why he’d always been so far out of reach…
I turned to face the culprit.
I didn’t feel his friend’s hot gaze on my body.
It did nothing for me.
Nothing.
“How much did you tell them about me?”
“Everything.” I turned his answer over in my head. He definitely didn’t sound apologetic.
“Don’t you think that was private and unnecessary?” Only he had ever called me that and it was from an easier time that seemed so far away from where we were now.
“Don’t think of it as gossip, little one.” Man Bun had been content to keep silent, but it appeared he had found his voice. Maybe it got lost in those deep dimples… My gaze shifted to him. His perch against the door was to no doubt keep me from getting to the other side. “Think of it as…” His lips stretched. Those damn dimples deepened. “…therapy.”
<
br /> “How would Angel talking about me be therapy for him?’
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Broody teased.
My shoulders squared, ready to fight again. “Isn’t that why I asked?” He opened his mouth ready to growl some more when Angel stepped in.
“Enough!”
Angel rose from his desk and moved close enough to grip my arm. He pulled me away, and when he stepped between us, I stared at his back in disbelief. My view of his friend’s bare chest was now obstructed, but this view was much better. Until he turned and forced me under the full force of Angel’s glare.
What’s wrong, pumpkin? You seem tense?
His gaze narrowed as if he read my mind. “Give me a name, and I’ll release your son.”
For some reason, I looked at Man Bun for reassurance, but he was an expert at giving nothing away. I turned back to Angel whose attention had never left my face.
“And what about me? We’re a package deal.”
The bastard smirked. “How else do you think I got you here?”
“You son of a—”
“A name, Mian. This deal has an expiration date.”
The name of the pawnshop owner slipped from my lips. I panicked, and now I had condemned an innocent man. It was too easy. Did that make me a monster, too? I had just signed an innocent man’s death certificate. That guilt tripled when a conniving grin spread his lips.
“Thank you, Mian.” He dismissed me as he turned to face Man Bun, giving me an unobstructed view of Broody, who was already barking orders through his phone. “Z, please show her where she’ll be staying.”
“Staying? Why would I be staying? We had a deal.” God, I sounded like some cheesy action movie actress but what else was I supposed to say? I had been played.
“And I’ll honor it after I know this is legit.” I was then forcibly removed from the room. I screamed until we reached my cell. I was expecting a dungeon or at least a basement. I should have known that would have been much too simple for him. Instead of a damp, dark room with concrete floors and blood on the walls, I was led inside a plush bedroom suite that looked far too comfortable for its purpose.