Stolen Love, The Complete Collection: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (8 page)

It annoyed me that once again I was being held captive by another privileged rich man. Surprise, surprise—another person who had done virtually no good in the world and yet had a vast amount of money he had not earned himself. It frazzled me to no end, so I fought hard not to be impressed with James in any way. But as much as I wanted to dislike him, it was becoming more and more difficult as the day went on.

There was no doubt about it, James was one tough cookie. He lived his life by his own rules, and I could at least respect that much about him. Plus I really liked the way he looked at Lexy. There weren’t too many people in the world willing to adore you from afar—especially if you’d done them wrong.

We waited for a few hours, and I could tell that something was wrong. James paced relentlessly around the room, checking his phone and calling in to check messages. He was visibly becoming more and more agitated. What had happened to his associate? It appeared he wasn’t going to show up, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing for Lexy and me.

One thing I knew for sure was that we had to come up with some sort of plan. I wasn’t sure what the associate would have brought to the table, but I felt it would most likely have been nothing good. My mind was whirling with questions about James’s intentions. We couldn’t allow ourselves to be held prisoner for much longer—both Lexy and I had other important, more lucrative work to pull off. We had to get out of there.

But how?

Chapter Two

Jason

Day Three

I had been wracking my brain all day about the kidnapper, worried sick about my sister. Janelle had always been such a good girl. I wanted to choke whoever was responsible for putting her in a position like that. She must be so scared. I had tried all day to figure out who the kidnapper could be but was at a complete loss. Call me naïve, but I just didn’t think I knew anyone who was capable of such things. It sickened me to think that something could happen to Janelle over money.

A call came into my cell, and I snatched it up.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kensington, it’s time.”

“I want to talk to my sister.”

“Mr. Kensington, we don’t have time for that.”

“Well, make time. I need to know she’s okay before I do anything. Is that clear? Prove you have her, or go fuck yourself.”

There was a long silence, and then I heard her scream. The sound made my blood run cold, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was her.

They’d better not be hurting her
, I thought, infuriated—and scared.

“If you hurt her in any way—”

“Mr. Kensington, the time for games is over. If you do everything we ask, we will give your sister back to you unharmed. If you don’t…her blood will be on your hands.”

“What the fuck do you want?

“We know everything about you, Mr. Kensington, from the people you employ to the size ten shoes you wear. Please don’t mistake us for fools. Just do as we ask, and nobody gets hurt.”

Something about what he said struck me as odd—shoe size? They did seem to know a lot about me, but how? Was that kind of information available on Google, for god’s sake? For as much as I wanted to hunt these people down, it would have to wait until I could ensure that Janelle was safely back where she belonged. I wasn’t about to risk her life by messing around with them. It was only money, and I had plenty of it. I was left with very little choice. I had to follow the kidnappers’ instruction to the hilt or risk losing Janelle forever. I would not be the one responsible for harm coming to her. I would do whatever it took to get her back home safely. She was counting on me.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go to the harbor where you keep your boat. Leave $10 million in unmarked bills on your deck. Just leave it there and return home. That’s all you need to do. We’ll take it from there.”

“What about my sister? How do I know she’ll be returned?”

“We have no interest in keeping your sister, Mr. Kensington. She will be returned if you give us the money. You need to return home, though. You must be at home waiting by the phone in order for Janelle to be returned. We will be calling your landline. Make sure you’re there.”

Suddenly the line was dead, and I clicked off my phone. Anger pounded in my blood as I thought about my current situation—the capper in an already awful week.

You see these situations on TV, and they all seem so simple, but when you find yourself in the same situation, right and wrong gets thrown out the window. In the movies, you get mad at the people if they do anything but call the cops because you know nothing good will come out of the situation without the authorities being involved. Yet there I was, in the same situation, and I learned that it wasn’t really that cut-and-dried.

When you knew there was a life on the line, it was hard to go against the kidnappers’ wishes. I didn’t know if it was possible for them to find out if I had called the cops, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Did I want to find out later that Janelle was dead because I disregarded their instructions and called the cops? I had more than enough money, and if it meant saving Janelle, I would give them anything they asked. These people apparently knew a lot about me, which meant they were either really good kidnappers or they were somehow connected to my life. The thought of the latter chilled me. I hoped that wasn’t the case—I didn’t want to believe that there could be anyone in my life that would want to hurt me like that.

As much as I wanted to call the police, I knew I couldn’t. It would be comforting to have the authorities on my side, walking me through the whole thing. It was a terrible feeling going at a situation like that alone despite all the money I had and all the people I constantly had at my beck and call. A man with the amount of wealth I had should really have someone around who could protect his investments against people who were corrupt. Oddly enough, these days I had run into a lot of corrupt people who wanted either my money or my assets.

My thoughts were a mess, and I kept coming back to whether or not I was handling the situation the proper way. What was to stop these same people from kidnapping someone else in my life to get more money? If they got my money easily, wouldn’t they just keep coming back at a later date? That was no way to live. But again, if I contacted someone, I could be risking my sister’s life. And if anything happened to Janelle, I would never forgive myself.

Out of nowhere, Mackenzie came to mind—
Mackenzie
thump-thump
,
Mackenzie
thump-thump
. The chanting in my head began once again. I couldn’t for the life of me understand how she seemed to possess me even when she wasn’t around. It still pissed me off every time I thought about how she’d rushed me out of her house and then disappeared. It was a mystery to me as to why I was so hung up on her. The girl was an enigma and crazy to boot. I’d also had the best sex of my life with her. So what if she’d stolen from me. Twice.

It occurred to me that a girl with those skills would probably be really helpful to me in a kidnapping situation. Unfortunately, I didn’t exactly have Mackenzie on speed dial these days. I wondered how she would handle a kidnapper. Would she go all renegade like she had in the apartment, or would she think it was more sensible to call the authorities? The questions kept rolling through my mind, but no new answers magically presented themselves.

A twinge of guilt hit me as I remembered Janelle and realized again that she was out there somewhere, no doubt terrified out of her mind. I needed to get my head on straight. I just hoped I knew what I was doing because there was much more than my money on the line.

The clock had run out for decision making. The time had come for me to deal with the kidnappers.

* * * * *

My heart slammed against my chest as I arrived at the marina. Even though the place was deserted and I couldn’t see them anywhere, I knew they were probably watching my every move. Whoever
they
were. I wondered if they were stealthy enough to have the equipment necessary to view me from afar or whether they were just good at hiding. Either way, I needed to get in and out quickly. The sooner I got back home to answer their call on my landline, the sooner I would see my sister again—if the kidnappers could be believed.

I crept quickly onto my yacht and set the money on the deck as per their instructions. I took another quick look around to see if I could spot anyone, but there was nothing but the sound of the water lapping against the boat. I slipped off the boat and made my way back to the car.

I drove home at breakneck speed, probably breaking a dozen traffic rules on the way. In hindsight, it was probably a poor choice. Had the police pulled me over, it would have been difficult to explain my situation, and I could very well have missed the kidnappers’ call.

Luckily, I arrived home without incident and raced inside. I headed straight for the liquor counter to pour myself a brandy then took it into my office and sat at the desk to await the phone call. I don’t think I’d ever been so stressed out. I had to put my trust in some shady individuals to get my sister home safely to me—not exactly the most comforting of thoughts.

Time crawled by, and no call came. I started pacing the office, wondering what to do next. Was there a chance she would never be returned? Had I been a fool not to involve the police? Where were they? Maybe they hadn’t been there when I arrived and had planned on showing up later. Maybe they had just run late—

Come on, Jason, kidnappers don’t run late to pick up their ten million dollars
.

So why hadn’t they called?

The doorbell rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Was it Janelle? Had they just dropped her off at the door? I ran down the hallway and half-slipped down the long staircase to the front door. I swung the door open only to find Brett standing there covered in blood, his face white as a sheet. A quick inspection made it clear the blood wasn’t his.

“Holy shit! What happened to you?”

“She’s dead.”

When he uttered those words, my mind went totally blank except for the image of my sister.
Janelle was dead? Oh, God, please no. I had done everything right. How could she be dead?

Then it occurred to me—how would Brett know anything about this situation? Staring at the blood splattered on his shirt, I asked numbly, “Who the hell is dead, Brett? What are you talking about?”

“She’s dead…oh my god, she’s dead.”

If he didn’t stop and answer my question, I thought I might completely lose my mind—or kill
him
. He appeared to be in shock. This was clearly the last thing I needed. Inside my head, I was already completely freaking out. First, I hadn’t received a call from the kidnappers, and then Brett showed up with blood all over him, mumbling incoherently. I was filled with dread and made the assumption he had to be talking about Janelle, but the whole thing just didn’t make any sense. Unless…

I shook my head to clear it. I was thinking crazy thoughts and had to force myself to concentrate on Brett.

“Come and sit down.”

I led him up to my office and eased him down onto the couch. I needed to get him calmed down and focused enough to give me information that might help me make sense of what was going on. I picked up my glass of brandy and handed it to him. As if on automatic pilot, he took a few sips.

“Brett, I need you to tell me what happened. Who are you talking about? Who’s dead?”

Brett just sat there wide-eyed, staring into nothingness. The fact that my usually unflappable friend was sitting there practically comatose scared the shit out of me. What the hell was going on?

“Come on, Brett. Come with me.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I led him to the main guest room and guided him onto the bed. It was like caring for an invalid—I had to do all the work, and he was completely unresponsive. I was grasping at straws at this point and hoped some rest would clear his mind. I couldn’t leave the house to take him to the hospital in case the kidnappers called. I couldn’t call the police because what if the kidnappers were watching my house? And I was afraid to call an ambulance because something was really wrong here, and I didn’t want Brett to end up being turned over to the authorities.

I had never felt so helpless in all my life. It seemed like everything in my life was slipping away. I felt like I had no control over anything anymore. Leaving Brett alone in the bedroom, I paced the upstairs hallway, trying to think. I froze for a moment when I heard the phone ring then raced down the hall into my office and snatched the receiver up.

“Hello? Hello?”

“Mr. Kensington, you have failed.”

“What are you talking about? I did everything you asked. I didn’t call the police. I left the money on the boat. I came right back home. Where’s Janelle? I’ve been waiting here for hours. You said all I had to do was come home. You promised you would send her back to me.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“God dammit, why not? Look here, you degenerate asshole, I held up my end of the bargain, so you hold up your end! Send her back to me!” I yelled into the phone.

“You did not hold up your end of the bargain. We asked you not to contact anyone. You failed.”

“I
didn’t
contact anyone.”

“Due to the involvement of your friend, we had some complications on our end. It’s your fault that your friend interfered with our plans.”

Brett? He’d been there? Why? How?

The questions were screaming inside my head. “No, you don’t understand. I did
not
contact anyone. I have no idea how my friend found out if that’s what you’re trying to say. But it didn’t come from me. I don’t know why he was there. You have to believe me!”

“No, Mr. Kensington, you failed.”

My world went dark. “Did you kill her?” I asked quietly. “If you did, I swear to God I’ll come and find you if it takes the rest of my life.”

“Your sister is alive, Mr. Kensington, but not for very long if you keep failing.”

If she was alive, then who was Brett talking about? Who was dead?