Grab (12 page)

But no… She was tied to a stranger’s bed, God knows where, and nobody knew where she was, if anyone was even looking.

“I brought you the chamber pot. I’m sorry we have to do it this way, but—”

“I know, it didn’t work out so well for the others.” Mia gritted through the indignity of Mike lowering her pants and did her business, getting angrier by the minute.

Jordan was just pulling his bike up to the front of Pierce Securities while Ryan was perched out front, leaning against the building. “Park it, man. We’re going to Evelyn’s place. Evan’s on a warpath for you.”

“Shit.” Jordan knew it would be bad but didn’t realize his brother would take his own issues out on the entire office.

“It’s okay, I just don’t think it would be great for you to go in there right now.” Ryan shrugged, his mouth grim.

“‘Kay,” Jordan agreed and rolled his Harley over to the parking garage, where Ryan followed and met him at his truck.

On the way to Evelyn’s place, Ryan broke through Jordan’s fidgeting. “I know what you’re going through.”

Jordan had checked his phone, his pockets, made sure he had his gun handy and keys at the ready, just in case he had a need for them. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, you know mine and Krista’s story, right?” Evan had told him, Jordan knew, but it wasn’t until just this moment that he’d realized. It was weird the difference between knowing things and
knowing
things.

“What was it like when she was taken?”

Ryan’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel at the memory. “Dude, there’s no way to describe the feeling of impotence you have. I totally get it, but if she can be found, we’ll find her.”

If she can be found.
Jordan couldn’t hear those words. They left so much to chance, and Jordan didn’t live his life by chance. He was a man who planned for every contingency, every what if, every off-chance. But this, he hadn’t planned to be walking down the street and see his girl being snatched up and shoved in a van.

They arrived at Evelyn’s place, a small apartment complex in a horribly bad neighborhood. There was an ancient swimming pool—overtaken by grass and weeds instead of chlorinated water—in a courtyard.

The dumpiness of Evelyn, Misty, and Mia’s apartments was not lost on Jordan. The only thing that stood out at this point, was Misty actually had a family who loved her and reported her missing right off the bat. Evelyn hadn’t had that, if she was alive. And all Mia had was him. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened to her if he wasn’t in her life. How long would it take her mother to realize from wherever she was that Mia wasn’t answering her phone anymore?

Ryan effortlessly picked the lock while Jordan watched. When he opened the door with his t-shirt hem, Jordan handed him a pair of latex gloves. “Dude, we can’t leave fingerprints. If this turns into something we can use, we call the cops and get them over here. We can’t fuck up the evidence stuff. They will need to build a case.”

Ryan nodded and followed Jordan inside.

It was well-kept and tidy. Colorful pillows were artfully arranged on a tattered sofa, framed photos developed in black and white adorned her walls—mostly landscapes—a lone coffee mug sat in the sink, waiting to be washed and put away. The air was stale and musty from a month of disuse.

They looked around carefully for hours, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Evelyn was a reader with a stack of romance novels by her bed and a fancy, purple vibrator in her bedside table. Jordan couldn’t blame her. It was obviously less messy than actual relationships, even though she was dating online. At least she had one date the night she went missing.

They couldn’t find anything about that in her things, though, nor was there a purse, which made Jordan think maybe whoever had kidnapped her had kept it for a souvenir. Or it was in a dumpster somewhere.

But Jordan got the impression the kidnapper knew Evelyn, she was his first victim, and he probably had kept it. If the kidnapper knew her, there had to be a clue here to that effect.

Finally, Ryan found a photo album in the bookshelf by her bed, and together they flipped through it, anxious to find something,
anything
, that would help find the connection.

When they found what they were looking for, Jordan’s heart pounded in triumph while at the same time plummeting. She knew him, and apparently knew him well. He was all over her photo album, lots of pictures of the two of them together, as well as with another man who favored the kidnapper. Because now, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. This guy had Mia.

He called Detective Hollerman and told him they’d found another victim and then they waited outside after pocketing one of the photos.

It took almost an hour for the detective to show up, during which time Ryan called Evan to ask him to look up any step-siblings of Evelyn’s, since he still probably wasn’t speaking to Jordan.

Hollerman showed up with a partner, who went into the apartment while he stayed outside, eyeballing Ryan and Jordan, irritation flicking in his eyes.

“Why are you guys here?” He seemed genuinely curious, even a little afraid the security firm would make him look bad, but regret shone in his eyes for some crucial piece of evidence he might have missed.

“Her name came up in our investigation. She had some sort of relationship with the suspect, the one at the diner. There
might
be pictures of them together in her photo album she
might
keep by her bed.” Jordan offered in an attempt to be cooperative. The last thing he wanted was roadblocks from the local law enforcement. It had been hard standing around waiting on him, but he’d done it because he needed the man’s help.

His eyebrows rose. “Did you boys break in?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, Sir, we were just checking on our friend, and her door was unlocked.” Blue eyes wide, he was the picture of innocence. Jordan needed to take notes.

Hollerman nodded, not buying it, but not questioning it, either. He knew they were lying, but at the same time, he also knew he was in a tight spot and needed all the leads he could get. It had opened a door for him, and Jordan could see he knew it. He sighed heavily before moving to go inside. “What are y’all doing next?”

Ryan answered, “Probably going back to the office to see what this new information digs up while I watch Jordan get his ass kicked by his brother.” He grinned cheekily and Jordan smothered the urge to slug him.

He knew it was misplaced aggression. He needed to find Mia and all this sitting around and bullshitting, making nice with the cops wasn’t doing it.

“Right.” The detective flashed Jordan an inscrutable look and let himself in the apartment, leaving them.

They made their way back toward Ryan’s truck—on the other side of the defunct pool—in a thick silence. It wasn’t a dead end, but it still didn’t give them answers. Just another piece of the puzzle. Jordan had a clearer picture but still didn’t know where to look for Mia. Hopefully, Evan would find something. If Evan would speak to him.

Ryan’s truck, a black beast of a Ford, was surrounded by punks. Nice.

“Fellas, thanks for keeping an eye out for my truck there,” Ryan drawled carefully, halting his steps.

One of the guys pushed off the bumper, dragging deeply off a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. “No problem. It’s just one of the many services we offer.” Grinning wickedly, he added, “Unfortunately, they can get to be expensive services.”

A couple of the guys behind him chuckled. Six in all.

Jordan eyeballed Ryan, stifling his wince when he cracked the knuckles on his bad hand. “Guess we’d better pay the boys, huh?”

Ryan grinned. He needed to let off some steam.

Mike had been sitting on the edge of the bed Mia was tied to, staring at her since he finished the last book he’d read her. His eyes roamed her body, making Mia feel vulnerable and afraid. She knew what he was thinking—the lust was written all over his face—yet he warred with something inside himself, and Mia wanted to help him make the right decision.

But he’d gagged her shortly after she suggested he stop reading to her. Apparently, he liked romances more than she did.

She still couldn’t figure out exactly what he wanted from her. He’d tied her to the bed three days ago and had only left her alone for small periods of time—when he went to her apartment, or the bathroom, or to fix food. He’d spent his entire time hovering over her, attending to her every need as he perceived them.

Unable to get him to grasp that the way to her heart was to fucking let her go, she was stuck here.

And he was still staring at her. In almost any other situation, he would have been a nice-looking guy. With longish blond hair, aquamarine blue eyes intensely focused on her in a lust-filled haze, he had a body full of lean muscles that gave Mia no doubt he could overpower her again, as he had already.

She saw the moment he made his decision with a sigh, and she inhaled deeply, wondering what was next. Slowly, his hand reached out for her and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smelled the stale tobacco on his fingers and wondered if she’d ever not associate that scent with this experience.

Mia sat still while he leaned forward and inhaled deeply, his body pressing her into the mattress. Biting her lip, she thought frantically. This was the closest he’d gotten to her since she’d been here, and she desperately thought for a way to use it to her advantage.

Her mother hadn’t taught her much about relationships, but if she’d learned anything from her, it was how to pretend. So that’s what she decided to do.

Mike didn’t seem to harbor any ill-will toward her, in his completely misguided way. He was most definitely unhinged, but at this point wasn’t dangerous. At least, that’s what her instincts told her.

So she played along, trying to find a way out. If he would untie her, or at least unbind her mouth, she’d be more comfortable. When his hand caressed her cheek, she forced herself to lean into his touch, pleading with her eyes because she didn’t trust her voice. As it drifted lower, Mia pretended to enjoy it, breathing deeply to raise her chest to his touch.

His fingers trembled while they circled her breast through her t-shirt, and Mia felt the wave of nausea as she fought the urge to move away. Instead, she writhed a little, sort of satisfying her desire to get away, while making it look like she wanted more.

God, what the fuck was she doing? Admittedly, she hadn’t slept much since she’d been here and was more than likely lacking in the judgment department, but she couldn’t help but think if she gave him something, he might give her something. And she needed something. She needed a way out, needed him to drop his guard because she couldn’t count on a rescue. Jordan couldn’t find her or he would have already.

He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it gently, and she gasped. It hurt like hell because she wasn’t the least bit turned on, but he didn’t need to know that. The sensations that shot up her spine were those of disgust and revulsion, but she closed her eyes to hide it and arched into his touch, in spite of every nerve ending inside her screaming to stop and fight him.

She couldn’t fight him, or she was sure she would die.
Like the ‘others.’

His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his lips parted, as his eyes rested on her heaving breasts.

“Evelyn, I—” he began, and Mia sighed, masking it as a sigh of desire, she hoped. It wasn’t the first time he’d called her Evelyn.
Unhinged.
“I’m sorry. But why did you leave me?”

She wanted to answer him something, to open a dialogue with him. If she could convince him she was Evelyn, she was sorry, she loved him, would he let her go? But the handkerchief in her mouth stopped her. She let out a garbled moan instead, and let him believe it was pleasure.

His hands continued their roaming while his eyes got more desperate. Mia knew what was going to happen, so she did the only thing she could do. She pretended he was Jordan, his hands were Jordan’s, his ragged tobacco breath belonged to Jordan. In her mind and heart, Mia knew what she was doing. But it was either fight or play along, and she was too scared to fight.