Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (30 page)

He kissed her, vowing to finish up here as quickly as possible so he could get her home. Now that he’d put that alarm back in her eyes by revealing his thoughts, he needed to get her behind closed—locked—doors.

♦ ♦ ♦

Yasmeen forced a smile for the waiter holding out a small tray with what would be her second glass of white wine. “Thank you.” She took it but shook her head when he handed her a small plate with bite-sized triangles that looked like tiny sandwiches. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder. “The gentlemen thought you might be hungry.”

She peered around him from her seat on a curved leather couch that she was sharing with two other girlfriends or wives. They were against the wall in a room that was gold and green, and lit by massive chandeliers that hung from the domed ceiling. She was trying not to show how sick she felt over the decision she’d just made.

Lucian was at a private blackjack table across the way. He and the two men he’d come to see were the only players even though the five empty chairs were being stared at longingly by the men and women milling about.

“Please thank the gentleman, but I’m fine.” She dropped Lucian’s stare and held onto the smile that was about to shatter her face.

…considering making this a permanent arrangement. But first I must have that fortress built some place outsiders cannot intrude.

She couldn’t let him imprison her in a dark, underground hole that would probably be well decorated. She’d go insane. Her life would be over. The only human contact she would ever have would be with him. He would visit every so often, fuck her body, then leave her alone, effectively fucking her mind, just as he’d said he wanted to do. She would never see Miranda again, or Eric and Loki. She’d never again walk through the doors of her gallery and just breath in the atmosphere that fed her soul.

No. She couldn’t let him do it. She had to leave.

The moment Lucian’s attention was elsewhere, she took another surreptitious glance around, once more marking the exits. What the hell was with this place? The doors were only accessible from the outside. The staff had to use the one main entrance to leave the massive room, unless they pressed a doorbell type thing and wait forever for someone to admit them into a back corridor. Probably kept the money back there, she thought, watching two dealers exit the closest door that was less than ten feet away. If she got by Spencer, the guy Sorin had introduced earlier, and darted through when someone came out, she could at least have enough time to beg someone to call the police. Would they listen? Side with her? Simply hand her back to her warden? She fingered her choker that seemed to be getting tighter and tighter. How harshly would Lucian punish her if she failed and had to return to the castle with him?

Didn’t matter. She had to try. She couldn’t live in a hole.

Her attention went to him again, and she experienced loss to a crippling degree at the thought of leaving him. He needed her.

She needed him.

“Sorry. I do not mean to be rude, but, did I see you refuse something your man sent over?”

Yasmeen looked at the rail-thin blonde next to her that had lips like the ones she used to buy at the variety store when she was younger. The wax ones she and the neighborhood kids would wear and pretend they’d just been punched in the mouth and had swollen up.

“Yes, I did. I’m not hungry yet,” she explained without adding how badly she wanted to vomit.

“Wow. You are very brave. I would never dare send away something my Lawrence sent to me.”

Her
Lawrence had obviously never sent her food before because it looked as if she hadn’t eaten in about three weeks. “We’re having dinner when he’s done, so he can watch me eat then.” She smiled as the woman cataloged the price of her dress and shoes.

“Will he not punish you first?” the other blonde said. The neckline of her dress was so open, the shadow of her nipple was on display. She’d adjusted it twice. To show more. “I heard Kahlil speak of your man. He is harsh and brutal. He has been known to use his women until there is nothing left of them to use. Kahlil said he once tired of his latest, and since they were on his yacht and he could not send her away, he passed her onto his men. They fucked her to death and then threw her body overboard for the sharks. No one bothered to investigate because why would they? Are you not afraid for your safety, Jasmine?”

Yasmeen didn’t bother correcting the common mistake on her name but sat there with the blood draining from her head. Would they think badly of her if she were to shove her head between her knees?

“Are you sure you are not mistaken, Selina? My Lawrence said Mr. Fane is very fair. He also said he is…what was the word he used?” She tapped an inch-long acrylic against her temple. “Ah, yes, deadly. Deadly but fair. What a funny combination.” She laughed and dabbed at her right nostril for perhaps the fiftieth time since they’d been introduced.

“Mr. Fane?” Selena said, frowning. “Oh, but I thought he was Hector Sala?”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

They all looked up to see the man who’d stopped Lucian and Yasmeen in the atrium. He was looking at Yasmeen.

“I have been watching you look for an escape route.” He winked. “I thought I might help.”

Before she could tell him to go to hell, Sorin was at her side. “Come, Ms. Michaels.”

“Not yet, Arcos. I am speaking with Ms. Michaels. Keeping her company while Lucian is occupied.”

Sorin took her arm and brought her to her feet. “Lucian would like you at his side.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left her,” Hector commented in a firm voice as he reached for her wrist.

Sorin chopped it away hard enough to break it and stepped in front of her to look down at the man. “I will have that hand playing your colon like a flute if you attempt to touch her with it again.”

The girls behind them giggled as they got up and moved away. Mortified that this asshole was causing a scene, Yasmeen tried to see around Sorin’s broad back so she could get Lucian’s atten—

“Hector, Hector. Still crass enough to risk a public disturbance merely to humiliate yourself in front of another man’s property. I feel pity for your father.”

Like the idiot she was, Yasmeen silently moaned with a helpless feminine appreciation, swallowed a whimper of relief, and felt her panties grow wet all in the space of three seconds. She also inched to the side when Lucian’s back joined Sorin’s in front of her.

Her temples started to pound along with her heart. A security guard pushed his way out the door. She peered through to see a long deserted hallway. It closed. She could hear the men talking, and paid no attention when a couple of others in nice suits and ear pieces joined them. Hector, who’d been led to the side, was staring at her again. It felt as if millions of tiny spiders were crawling over her, and it only got worse when he smiled. Sorin was saying something to Lucian. Both of them were turned away from her. The door opened. A dealer in a pressed white shirt came out.

Barely able to breathe as the slave band around her throat grew tighter and tighter, Yasmeen quit thinking and darted the few steps over to slip through the closing panel. She ripped the choker off and stood there, her lungs locked, whimpering as she watched Lucian’s broad back disappear.

Just before the latch engaged, the door was pushed open again to allow two big bodies through. When it was slammed shut, it wasn’t her angry Romanian and his adorable meathead standing with her. It was Hector and one of his.

The moment Lucian saw his men drop position and shove by Sorin, he whipped around. Just before the security door slammed shut, he caught sight of Yasmeen looking up at Hector and one of his henchman. Didn’t matter why she was in a place she should not be, all Lucian could think was, finally, he could kill something.

A film of red cloaked his vision as he pointed for half their crew to go right while he, Sorin, and Spencer went left. They knew the layout of the casino well because it was Lucian’s. With any luck, Hector also knew where he was going. To the nearest exit.

Slamming out an unmarked door in the far corner, Lucian had to fight with Sorin to stay in the lead. “Get the fuck behind me,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” was his pain-in-the-ass’s response.

“You touch Hector; I’ll shoot you before you land one shot.”

Sorin chuckled. “Fine. I’ll take Rolph.”

“What’s happening here?” Spencer muttered in a strong Irish accent. “Are you two fighting over who gets who?”

“Yes. You get no one,” Lucian taunted, uncharacteristically participating in a conversation. He felt almost high because he knew what was coming. Something quick but satisfying. “You may call in the cleaning crew. They are waiting outside.” He elbowed Sorin out of the way again. “I get Sala. You get Rolph,” he confirmed once more to be sure it was understood.

Sorin grunted, and that’s how it went down when they rounded the corner and nearly slammed right into the trio they were stalking. Lucian tore Yasmeen away from Hector’s grip and shoved her into Spencer’s arms before snapping a hand out to grip his prey’s throat. He raised a foot and kicked it hard into Hector’s knee. The joint collapsed, but no crunch sounded over the pain-filled howl the pussy released. The warmth of blood coating the tips of his fingers barely registered as Lucian pinned his victim to the wall. He slipped his nine millimeter from his underarm holster, saw a clear shot out of the corner of his eye, and took it. Before even a slap could land, Sorin’s sparring partner went down with a hole in his temple.

“You do not touch what is mine,” Lucian murmured before placing the butt of his gun to Hector’s forehead and pulling the trigger again. The light went out in the eyes Hector shared with his father, a man who used to look down at Lucian and Markus as he walked out of their house, adjusting his clothes so he didn’t appear disheveled after his afternoon fuck.

Less than ten seconds. That was all it took for two lives to end.

He dropped the body and had just enough time to spat on them both before four men—the cleaners—came around the corner. He ignored them as he went to his pet. She had her hands cupped over her mouth and was whispering
oh, my God
over and over again. That wasn’t what captured his attention as Spencer handed him a damp cloth that smelled of alcohol. It was the choker hanging from his pet’s thumb. He stared between it and her bare neck as he cleaned the blood he’d felt splatter on his throat and jaw. As he wiped his hands of any traceable evidence, he watched how the diamonds on the tag glinted in the light.

“The car is out back,” Sorin murmured as he cleaned Lucian’s right ear.

Handing off the soiled cloth, and forcing a gentleness he didn’t feel, Lucian peeled Yasmeen’s hands from her face so he could kiss her on the mouth. “Forgive me for not taking the time to recommend turning your back. Just breathe. You will be fine in a moment.”

“I-I’m s-s-sorry. I shouldn’t h-have r-run.”

“Shh.” He hugged her close. “
I
should never have allowed you out of the castle. This is my fault.” He also shouldn’t have shared his thoughts on permanency. She wasn’t ready for that yet. “Do you see what happens when you leave my side?”

He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes as he held her trembling body. If he hadn’t gotten to her in time, Sala and Rolph would have torn her dress away and used her in the most depraved ways.

“I do not mind that you have these willful thoughts of escape. Of course, you will. But you should never have been so foolish as to act on them. I will teach you this lesson once and for all.” He jerked the choker from her grip and tightened his arm around her waist until she moaned. “And you will learn it, pet.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Still in a suspended place of numb disbelief over the violent episode she was solely responsible for, Yasmeen didn’t protest when Lucian brought her straight upstairs. He released her hand in the middle of the room and went into his closet. He came out with a flat box.

“Turn.”

She turned.

“Lift your hair.”

She squeezed her dry eyes shut and lifted her hair. Something fell, and then he was placing a new collar around her throat. It was cold and made a tiny snick sound when he attached the two ends.

Then she waited. For something. She wasn’t sure what. To get whipped? Spanked? Fucked like a dog? The longer he remained at her back, the tighter her nerves stretched.

She jumped when his phone buzzed.

“It is time.” One fingertip touched her nape. It was feather soft as it followed her spine right to her tailbone.

And then he walked out, locking the door behind him.

She covered her face and fought not to fall to her knees where she stood. He’d killed two men because of her. Shot them. In the fucking head. She banged at her temples to get the image out of there.

Her head flipped up at the sound of a woman’s voice. A door closed in the room next to theirs. A soft giggle. No. Two soft…giggles.

Yasmeen’s breathing sped up until spots danced in the sides of her vision. That’s when his words came back to her.

If I see it anywhere other than around your neck, I will make you hurt. I will not lay a finger on you, but you will hurt.