Hero Book 3 - The Battle: Military Romance (3 page)

“Don't think I didn't see what you were doing out there. Trying to find the way out. Think you're pretty tricky. Good luck with that.” He sneered the last part.

He yanked a black blindfold over my eyes and I heard him walk away. My only chance now was to convince the man to let me go. I started talking through the duct tape, making my sounds as pleading as possible against the tight adhesive.

I wasn't sure how much time passed, but then I heard the footsteps coming closer.

“Ah, hell, we have a while to wait. Might as well let you entertain me.”

Without warning, pain shocked through me as the duct tape was ripped off my mouth. I could taste blood and wondered how much skin I'd lost on my lips. Tears stung my eyes and dampened the black blindfold but I didn't linger on any of it.

“Whatever you're being paid, I can more than double.”

“All I have to do is let you go, right?” he asked in his unusual voice.

“Just untie my wrists and leave. That's it,” I said.

“Then how would I get paid?”

I thought fast. “Someone will have to come and get me. They'll bring the money. We can wait together if you want.”

The man chuckled, a strangely girlish sound. “No, thanks. I already got paid my first installment. My boss is quite generous.”

“I'll triple it,” I said quickly. “There's no reason for you to keep working for whoever it is when I can pay you more.”

“Let's just say I like the fringe benefits,” the man said.

Something about his tone turned my stomach. I could practically hear him licking his lips over whatever it was my captor had given him.

“Out,” another voice said, quiet enough I couldn't tell if they were male or female.

I heard footsteps, then the door closing. There was an electronic crackle and then I heard the new person breathing in a weird way.

“You rich girls really are all the same. Trying to buy your way through life. Didn't work, did it?” The voice was robotic sounding and I realized whoever this person was, they were using one of those voice manipulator devices. I wondered if that meant I knew them. I quickly shook off the thought. That couldn't be it. They had to be thinking more towards the future, disguising themselves for when I was released so I couldn't identify them.

“Did you try opening your legs? Isn't that what gives Leighton Machus her extra edge, her ability to get whatever she wants?” the voice asked.

My stomach turned sour and roiled. My captor was walking in circles around me now, toying with my red curls in passing.

“You didn't even offer him a taste? You’re a horrible tease, Miss Machus. Everyone knows that. It's one of the things that sickens me the most. How you tease people, string them along, make them want you, then turn away as if you don't even see them.”

I yanked my head away from the hand. “I'm not like that. You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Your little friend Paris? She's a naughty one. I like her.”

“She's not my friend,” I snapped.

The sharp slap across my cheek stung, but I gritted my teeth and refused to cry out.

“She's better than you. She has ambition. I can see your whole future, Leighton. Want me to tell you about it?”

I held back my rising panic and promised myself my future was a long, open stretch of time. It wasn't going to end in this concrete basement room with some deranged and jealous kidnapper circling around me.

“Here it is. Once your granddaddy's finally sick of you, he'll hand you off to one of his associates, maybe marry you off in a business deal. I'm guessing it'll happen sooner rather than later. He has to be getting tired of your shit. Everyone else is.”

Bile rose in my throat, but I choked it back and forced my breath to stay even. How did this person know so much about me? Why did they hate me so much? Despite the alterations from the speaker, I could tell each word dripped with anger and bitterness.

The only thing that gave me any hope was that they hadn't said my future would end here.

“Do I know you?” I asked. “What did I do to you? Whatever it was, I'm sorry...”

Pain shot through my foot as my captor stomped on it and I clamped my lips together to keep from making a sound. It wasn't easy. I'd already known my heels were long gone, but my feet had been so numb from the cold, I hadn't felt much when I’d been walking. Now, however, I felt every inch of my foot.

“You want to say that again?” the electronic voice asked.

Another stomp on the same area, but I still managed to stay quiet. My foot was throbbing now, heating up as blood rushed into it.

“You rich girls are all the same,” the voice snarled. “Loose with your money and your morals. Loose with everything until someone else wants the same thing. Then you get in the way just because you can. Doesn't matter if you really want it, you just don't think other people should have it if you can take it.”

I shook my head. What the hell were they talking about?

“You don't agree?” The electronic voice raised an octave, but still wasn't identifiable.

The next hit was a dull blow against the side of my head.

Little pinpricks of light danced behind the black blindfold, but I refused to make a sound. I concentrated on the awkward blow. Anyone who'd ever fought with siblings, even just messing around, knew how to punch, but my captor had given me a knock on the side of the head with the butt of their hand. It was more like a child imitating a karate chop than a kidnapper quelling their victim. This person had clearly never hit anyone before, not for real.

“You know what I think? I think you deserve this. For getting in the way of people's happiness, for pushing people aside like they were nothing.”

The strange attacks came in a flurry now. Sharp, awkward blows to my shoulders and head. Kicks to my shins.

Then the chair tipped and I was on my side. Pain went through me, my elbow throbbing like crazy.

A hard kick into my ribs made me gasp while another finally drove a sound out of me despite my efforts. Then, I was pulled upright, the chair set back on its legs.

“Don't you have anything to say for yourself?” the voice asked, clearly out of breath.

“What do you want?” I asked, panting, barely able to breathe myself.

“Don't you get it? I want you to hurt, I want you to feel like garbage, like the trash you really are. No one's looking for you, not your bodyguard or that boy toy that ran off to Kansas. You're the one who's been tossed aside and I want you to feel it.”

Another slap made my ear ring, but I was too busy to wince. My captor was circling around again and I waited until they were behind me. I pushed off with all my strength, throwing myself and the chair backwards. I tucked my chin to my chest to protect the back of my head, but my captor was closer than I realized, and the metal chair cracked into their leg.

The electronic voice howled, a hair-raising combination of static and sharp-pitched notes. There was a struggle, but they got out from under me and I heard the muffled static sounds as they headed to the door.

“Give her some bruises. Knock her around, make her feel it,” the electronic voice said, the anger making its way through the device's distortion.

The door slammed and I heard that strange girly laugh again.

“Your boss is a psycho,” I said. Every breath hurt and I wondered if my ribs were cracked. “Don't you think he'll turn on you?”

“Who cares?” The beefy man pulled me and the metal chair upright with one dizzying move. He checked to see if the blindfold was still in place. “He's an interesting person to work for. Like I said, you can't match the fringe benefits.”

He. At least I had a gender to go with my mysterious captor.

The beefy man hit me with an open, loose hand, but the effect was as jarring as hitting a brick wall going thirty miles an hour. I whimpered. It hurt worse than anything the other man had done.

I let myself cry out as blows continued to rain down, let go of everything except my brother and Haze. Ian had been through much worse. He'd been attacked, shot, and lived through an explosion that could easily have ended his life. Haze had withstood even more. Special Forces training, multiple deployments that he'd never spoken of, months in hostile territory, and, most importantly, charging in to save my brother's life.

No matter what happened, I would survive. I would get back to them. I clung to that, repeated it, and let it sustain me until my chair fell over and blackness took over my world.

Chapter 4

Haze

The
bouncers stood in front of the nightclub manager's cramped office. Arms crossed, feet hip-width apart, and eyes fixed above my head. Only one of them was actually taller than me, but all three men were clearly used to their presence being intimidating enough to discourage most curious or inebriated patrons.

They were going to figure out pretty quickly that none of that shit worked on me.

“Let me just start by saying that, unless you've had interrogation training from the US Army Special Forces, this won’t go your way.” I waited to see whose eyes moved first.

The tallest one glanced at me and then away. Perfect. I walked right up to him and lined my toes up two inches away from his. The proximity made him frown, but there was nowhere for him to go. I had him against the wall.

“All three of you stayed to monitor the after hours private party up in the VIP Lounge.” I didn't make it a question. “And it was your consent that allowed the party to continue after the club closed down.” Again, not a question.

“Manager allows it,” the tallest bouncer said without looking at me.

“You know what else the manager allows?” I asked. “Me to report any one of you, or all three to the police for the part you played in Leighton Machus' kidnapping.”

We hadn't gotten a ransom note or any solid proof that Leighton had been kidnapped, but until I had evidence otherwise, I was treating it as such. My gut was telling me that, this time, Leighton hadn't simply run off. Even without the threatening letters, I probably would've thought the same thing.

I moved to the bald bouncer standing near the office door, drawn by the way he twitched when I'd said Leighton's name. “You know the name, and I'm guessing it wasn't from the tabloids. I'm thinking a photographer bribed you to let him in so he could take pictures of her.”

The man's jaw flexed and I felt a surge of adrenaline. The moment I heard Leighton was missing, I'd wanted to fight someone, destroy someone, and if he was going to give me an excuse, I was ready to oblige. The bald bouncer stepped back and I could see his resolve weakening.

“He paid for a few photographs,” he blurted out.

Our eyes connected. “And you're going to tell me his name for free.”

As soon as he did, I was out the door and on the phone. Within forty-five minutes, I was edging along a rotted privacy fence and letting myself into the photographer's small house up past Topanga. Probably not my smartest move to date, but also probably not my dumbest either. I could only hope he didn't have some slick silent alarm system. Getting arrested for B&E was the last thing I needed..

Tommy Multon wasn't home, so I gave myself a quick tour. A dirty galley kitchen was smothered under stacks of pizza boxes and take-out containers. The living room was furnished with a leather easy chair, a video console, and the kind of rug bought off a chain link fence along the boulevard. The tiger face on it stared up at me as I moved through the living room and found the photographer's computer. Instead of a dining room table, he had a corner desk and two large computer monitors plus shelves of photography equipment. These were essentially the only items of value in the entire house.

One touch to the keyboard, and Leighton's face appeared on both screens. My heart stumbled, and every muscle in my body tensed. It wasn't only fear for her safety that was making me react like this. I needed her more than I'd let myself acknowledge before. It was almost painful to reach out and turn the monitors off.

As the screens went dark, I heard a car pulling up to the house. Positioning myself in the kitchen doorway, I heard Tommy Multon come inside.

“Tawny?” he called.

There really wasn't a point to me trying to hide. I needed answers. I stepped out into the living room and flicked on the dining room light at the same time. “Who's Tawny? Your cat?”

He stood there for nearly half a minute, gaping at me with his eyes so wide that they would've been laughable if it hadn't been for the seriousness of the situation.

“My, my girlfriend,” Tommy finally stammered. “She'll be here any minute.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And you're hoping the threat of your girlfriend, Tawny, will be enough to frighten me away?”

He remained frozen as I crossed the room and switched on the computer monitors to reveal Leighton's picture.

“How about you answer a few simple questions so Tawny doesn't have to see you soil your pants?”

Tommy managed a head nod.

“Obviously, you bribed a bouncer to let you photograph Leighton Machus at Diabolique the other night. What I want to know is if you noticed anything unusual?” I asked.