Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) (28 page)

M
Y HEAD POUNDING
, I
TURNED
to my side and almost vomited. Hot, sweaty, I opened my eyes to pitch black and the panic was instant. I reached out and up but my hands bent at the wrist like a wilted flower.

Short breaths started punctuating the small space around me and I realized I was in the trunk of the Jag. Terrified of suffocating, I tried to calm the fuck down but the pitch black, nausea and excruciating headache made tears well and drip down my face.

“No, goddamn it,” I cried.

After everything I’d been through, I wasn’t going to die in a fucking trunk. I pushed my arms out again and pressed my useless hands everywhere I could reach. There had to be a trunk release somewhere in this overpriced piece of metal. When I couldn’t find anything, I started kicking, except my legs were like jelly and all that happened was my back slid across the trunk and hit the rear seats.

Pain smarted from my wound and I reached out for something to hold on to, except my hand closed over what felt like a pull release. It took three tries but my fingers finally grasped the knob and yanked. A click sounded and the seat fell partway forward. The sliver of light was all the hope I needed.

I shoved at it with all my might.

The backseat of the Jag folded forward and I wedged myself out of the trunk on my stomach. I pulled at the door handle twice before it opened then musty garage air filled my lungs. I gulped at the freedom and a wave of nausea reared up.

I swung a leg around and fell out of the car headfirst. My hands hit the pavement, then my knees, and I vomited on impact.

When there was nothing left in my stomach, I tried to stand but my legs crumpled into a mess a foot from the vile-smelling contents of my stomach. My head hurting worse than it ever had, it was all I could do to crawl toward the back of Jag and lay my cheek on the cold concrete.

Dizzy, curled in a fetal position, I breathed through the nausea as an engine roared through the garage and vibrated the ground. Tires screeched, a door opened and shoes I recognized landed in my sight line.

“
Ariella
,” Viking snapped.

“Conner?” I rasped.

“He is fine.” Viking gently rolled me to my back. His hands spread out all over my body and squeezed as if he were feeling for broken bones. His face an intense mask of concentration, his jaw rigid, he finished his search then slipped his arms under me.

“Nauseous, my head hurts,” I complained.

“Vagus nerve,” Viking explained, effortlessly lifting me up.

“He made me pass out. Locked me in the trunk.” My head hurt so bad, it was an effort to speak.

“I know,” he ground out.

“You let him…” I breathed through a wave of nausea. “Take me.”

Viking inhaled but he didn’t say anything as he carried me to the elevator and punched the call button.

“Hey,” André jogged up beside us. “She okay?”

Viking said something in Danish.

“On it.” André tipped his chin at me. “Later,
chica
.” He took off.

“Where’s Candle?”

“Handled.”

Dead handled? I didn’t ask. I wanted to remove my head from my neck just so I could make the pounding stop.

We rode up to Viking’s condo in silence. He didn’t look down at me and I didn’t look up at him. I kept my hands in my lap and pretended he wasn’t carrying me because even though it felt safe and I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d want to be, I was pissed as hell at him. He could’ve easily stopped Candle in the restaurant but he hadn’t.

The elevator doors opened and Viking strode into his condo and went straight for the master bedroom.

“Guest room,” I protested.

“No.” He gently set me on his bed. “Wait.” He strode out of the room with purpose.

I tried to get up and same as in the garage, my legs gave out. “Goddamn it.”

Spice and musk and something else that smelled a lot like anger hit my senses and Viking scooped me up. “I told you to wait.” He set me back on the bed.

“I needed to brush my teeth. What the hell is wrong with my legs?”

“Compromised motor skills from the strike to your nerve. It will go away in a few minutes. Drink.” He handed me a glass of water.

I didn’t want water. I wanted answers and Advil and a damn toothbrush. I pressed on my temples and ignored his outstretched hand. “Why did you let that happen?”

“Scott is not our prime target.”

Then why the fuck was this the first I was hearing about it? And who the hell was
our
? “What are you talking about?”

“The president of the LCs is our prime target. Taking Scott out of the equation would limit our access to him.”

“You used me.” God, it hurt to say. I wanted to hate him but right now all I could do was curl into a ball as André’s warning played in my head.

“Scott is no longer a problem for you.”

I swam through a wave of nausea and looked up at Viking. He could only mean one of two things but his expression wasn’t giving anything away. “Is he dead?”

“No.”

Oh God.

Oh God
.

He’d paid him. Viking had paid
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars
… for me.

Shock, dismay, revulsion, gratitude, shame—I couldn’t breathe. “You paid him,” I barely whispered. “Why did you do that?”

He stared at me.

Oh my God.
“I can never,
ever
repay you.” Panic didn’t come close to describing the dread that was churning in my stomach. “You know that.”

“You owe me nothing.”

“
Jesus Christ, Neil
.” I buried my head in my hands.

“Scott is handled. You are safe.” Except he didn’t say it like he meant it. He said it like he was pissed the fuck off.

Screw Viking and his secrets and his money and his stoic fucking attitude. I wanted to see my son and I wanted my life back. “I want my son,
right now
,” I snapped.

“I will take you tomorrow,” he snapped back.

I was so shocked by his outburst that I didn’t say shit for three whole heartbeats as we stared at each other.

Then something occurred to me. Maybe, just maybe, Viking wasn’t ready to say good-bye to me. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he’d never intended for us to fuck only once. Maybe I
was
important to him.

But if I’d learned nothing else about him in the few hours we’d spent together, I’d learned this—he would never admit to himself that he wanted something badly. He was too alpha. He didn’t compromise, and more importantly, he calculated and strategized everything he did. If he wanted something, he took it. But he would never let himself admit to wanting something that was out of his control to get. And he held himself at a distance from everyone. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could ever penetrate that, let alone understand it.

But that didn’t mean I had to be a bitch about everything he’d done for me, or everything he’d personally risked.

So I swallowed my pride and tried to do the right thing. “Thank you,” I said sincerely.

His chest rose and fell twice. His gaze never wavered and his expression didn’t change but his voice went back to its usual quiet reservation. “Shower. I will get you something to eat.”

I understood his words for what they were. It was a Viking truce, simple and direct. I wasn’t annoyed by his alphaness, I wanted to embrace it. I was tired of pretending it didn’t make me feel special. I needed a shower, there was vomit on my dress and I’d never had dinner. He wasn’t being overbearing. He was taking care of me. “Okay,” I replied quietly.

With a single nod, Viking silently walked out.

And just like he’d said they would, my legs held when I stood and I went to the shower.

This time, the hot spray on my back didn’t sting. The water washed over me and something more than relief soaked into my bones. I was going to see my son tomorrow and I was safe. I almost didn’t care if my memory came back. I could live with it. I could live with a lot of things. Like not stripping anymore and working for André and having my son know what it meant to have a mother home at night to tuck him in.

I toweled off and looked at myself in the mirror, really looked. My eyes, my face, my thick, dark hair, it was all familiar. There were parts missing but for the first time since I’d woken up in that warehouse, I was okay with that.

A knock sounded on the door and I wrapped my towel tight. “Coming.”

I opened the door and Viking let his gaze stray to my towel for half a second but then he studied my face like he was looking for something important. I studied him back and maybe that was what was missing from the whole equation. Maybe I’d never appreciated him for who he was. My lips curved slightly up. “Hi.”

“Dinner is on the table. Eat. Get some sleep.”

My smile dropped as his last sentence registered. “Are you leaving?”

“I have some business to take care of.”

Despite everything I’d said, I wasn’t prepared to spend the night alone in his place. “Are you coming back?”

He nodded once.

I pushed. “Tonight?”

“No.”

The awful crushing feeling in my chest was so close to rejection that I turned my back on him and saw my suitcase on his dresser. He must’ve brought it in while I was showering. I fought down all my emotions and pretended to look through my clothes for something to wear.

“Ariella,” he softly called.

“No, it’s fine. I get it.”

I felt his body heat at my back as his voice came closer. “What do you get?”

That I’d read into what he’d said. That he wasn’t interested in me now that things were wrapped up. That he didn’t want to spend the night with me. But I chose a safer answer. “That you have a life to get back to. I’m sure your company needs you.”

His warm hand closed around my nape and his thumb brushed up the side of my neck. It was the same touch he’d given me a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours, but tonight it felt so very different and that different tasted like regret. “My company can run without me and you have a life as well.”

I nodded and spoke past the lump in my throat. “I know.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Ariella.”

His statement was filled with an unspoken contradiction and I didn’t want to hear any more. “You don’t need to waste compliments on me. I’m a big girl. I know what this is.”

“I waste nothing.”

Except two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and the opportunity to spend one more night with the woman he’d bought and paid for. “Go. I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be.” I was sick.

His hand moved from my neck to my arm and he turned me to face him. I couldn’t stop it, when I took in all of his strength, his incredibly handsome features and everything he’d done for me, tears welled and one spilled over.

He cupped my face and his thumb brushed at my cheek. “Explain.”

I gave him the honesty in my heart. “You paid a quarter of a million dollars to save my life. I didn’t think I would be saying good-bye tonight.”

The concern in his eyes, the gentleness of his gesture, the intimacy in his voice, it all disappeared in a nanosecond and he dropped his hand. “You will never mention the money again. I will see you tomorrow.”

Not understanding his anger, I stepped back and dropped my gaze. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m tired.”

“Eat. Get some sleep.”

I nodded and picked up a baby doll nightgown I couldn’t ever remember wearing. “If you don’t mind, I need to get dressed.” Formal and strained, nothing about this felt right and I couldn’t figure out how everything had gotten so fucked-up. Worse, I didn’t even want to lash out at him anymore for the Candle thing because all I felt was sad.

“Good night, Ariella.”

My back to him, the stupid nightgown in my hand, I nodded.

A second later, the door softly shut.

T
HE STEAK WAS PERFECT BUT
I barely tasted it. I cut it into small bites and at first, my stomach reared up and revolted at the sensation of eating. I forced a few bites down, then before I knew it, I’d eaten the whole thing and the green beans and potatoes.

I wished I could say I felt better but I was isolated and uncomfortable. And as I stared out at the black ocean, I became afraid. Afraid Candle would come back, afraid Viking wouldn’t, afraid of what would happen to Jason, afraid that Conner wasn’t okay. It became too much. I took my plate into the kitchen and suddenly, I realized I was utterly alone. If anyone came up the elevator or knocked on the door, what would I do?

In a moment of panic, I opened the front door to check the hallway and gasped in shock when I saw the man standing there.

“Ma’am? Everything okay?”

It took me a moment to realize he was wearing a Luna and Associates black polo. His legs apart, his arms crossed, wearing thigh and shoulder holsters, both occupied by lethal-looking guns, he had more muscles than André and an intense vibe to match.

“Um, fine,” I squeaked, shutting the door and locking it.

I scurried back to Viking’s bedroom, crawled to the middle of the huge bed and pulled the covers up to my neck.

I didn’t notice my purse on the nightstand until it started buzzing. My heart leapt and I grabbed the familiar bag and started rooting through it. A second later, I pulled out a shiny gold phone I didn’t recognize. The display said I had an incoming call from NC.