Love Op: A Spicy, Cat-And-Mouse, Thriller Rom Com (Love and Other Jobs Book 5)

25. Mattie

Iwas getting really sick of the kidnapping thing. At least with Kael, I’d known that I wasn’t in real danger—something about him had resonated with me from the very beginning. I’d always trusted him on some inexplicable level. But being taken by strangers had been so much worse than I’d imagined. The abrupt violence of it, their hands on my body, the suddenness with which I’d been taken from a triumphant and proud moment to heart-crushing terror, had stolen my breath. One moment, I’d had my eyes on Kael, on his smug appreciation of the effect the slideshow was having on the crowd. And the next—darkness. They’d shoved a cloth shopping bag over my head, of all things. Fucking animals.

The long plane ride here hadn’t been much better. No soothing, brainless drugs for me. No, I’d been handcuffed and chained to a chair in a private plane for hours, and even now, my body felt the stiffness of that treatment as I walked the halls of the French chateau.

Although, I had to hand it to Fate. There was an odd sort of symmetry about winding right back up where my nightmares had begun. As my bare feet padded soundlessly down the plush carpets of Jonathon’s mansion, I quelled my panic and painted over it with forced indifference. I’d escaped this Hellhole once before. I could do it again.

And I wasn’t alone this time. I filled my lungs with soothing oxygen and a burst of courage at that thought. Kael would come. I knew he would. I just had to hold on and make Cohen’s life a living nightmare until Kael could find me. For the first time in my life, I had someone I could rely on, and I didn’t doubt him for a moment. I didn’t doubt his willingness to save me, and I definitely didn’t underestimate his ability to carry it out.

Bide your time, Mattie. Don’t do anything reckless. He’s coming.

The hired muscle that flanked me in the front and back led me through the baroque-style hallway until we took a turn to the right, and the space opened up. I let my eyes wander through the unfamiliar room, roving over glass cases and pedestals that displayed glittering artifacts. It looked a bit like a museum—a very old, dark, somewhat dusty museum. The arched windows let in some light, but other than that, only the singular spotlights over each glass case illuminated the space. The floors had been lacquered bright red, and the walls had been embellished with intricate woodwork and stained glass.

In fact, the more I looked at it, the more I thought it looked like a church where ornaments were worshipped in place of a deity. A chill erupted along my arms as I passed Fabergé eggs, polished doubloons, and ancient pottery shards. How very direct of him to bring me to his trophy room.

Jonathon stood at the end of the room in front of a large glass case, his head tilted to the side and one hand propped on his hip. Dressed in a brown and tan striped button-down that he’d tucked into brown, paper bag pants, he looked like literal shit. A walking turd. He looked over at me as I approached, and then his too-wide mouth split into a grin. “Look at you. You look stunning in that dress, Matilda.”

I curtsied mockingly. “Fuck you.”

Jonathon laughed softly, folding his arms and taking a few steps so he stood across from me. The spotlight from one of the displays caught the curly tuft of hair on his head, and I had the disturbing thought that he looked like Josh Groban’s psycho half-brother. “I’m sure this all feels a little dramatic at the moment.”

“Actually, it feels a little boring,” I countered. “Your villain textbook is like three hundred years out of date. You don’t actually have to take me to a castle.” I looked to my left and found a giant, gold egg on a stand. I picked it up and tossed it with interest. “Just FYI.”

Jonathon’s eyes followed the movement of the egg, looking uncomfortable for the first time. “Like I said. A little dramatic.”

I rolled the egg in my palm, knowing very well how breakable it was. “Speaking of dramatic, did you catch my theatrical performance at my farewell party?”

Jonathon’s dark eyes stayed glued to the egg in my hand. “I did. Keen of you to pick up on that being a farewell party. Why go if you knew?”

I tapped my fingers over the gold orb. “I got a little cocky.”

Jonathon’s eyes flicked to mine again. Deranged amusement shimmered in their depths, darkened by the lack of light in his gallery. “And you had Ghost, right?” I almost dropped the egg. Jonathon reached out and plucked it from me, hinging it away from me and holding it aloft. His amusement made more sense now. “Oh, did you think I had no idea?”

Yes, you flaming dung heap. I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if you knew or didn’t.”

“Because he’ll come get you?” Jonathon guessed. He leaned over and carefully placed the egg back in its protective cradle. He quirked his head to the side to regard me as he straightened. “Yes?”

I folded my arms. “What is this, exactly? You said you saw what happened to my parents at that party. I have several steps in place to ensure that they go under, and SynthoCare with them. There’s nothing for you to gain here. In a few weeks, there won’t be any money. No deal.”

Jonathon snapped his fingers, and a white-gloved woman—a curator, I guessed—stepped forward to polish the egg after I’d smeared my fingerprints all over it. He gestured to the room of collectibles. “I told you how I feel about you, Mattie. Don’t you like that? Doesn’t it make you feel special? It should. I value you. And I bought you, fair and square.”

The blond woman who had picked up the egg bounced a glance to me, and then back to the egg. She looked more nervous than I felt. But rather than giving in to my mounting panic, I coasted backwards toward another open display. This one held a coin collection of some kind. They looked frighteningly old. I picked one up. “I’ll ignore the obvious breach of human rights inherent in that sentence and point out that even if you ‘bought’ me,” I held up the coin, “you can’t keep a person. Not if they don’t want to be kept.”

Jonathon’s gaze went feline and sharp. “Can’t I?”

The metal of the coin bit into my palm as I closed my fingers around it. “Not this one.”

He reached me again, and this time, he crowded my personal space until my back pressed against the icy glass of a display. He reached out and took my wrist in his hand, lifting it and squeezing hard. His eyes bored into me, triumphant, furious, and full of something crazed that I couldn’t name. I couldn’t name it because it wasn’t human.

It wasn’t an emotion normal people felt. Jonathon Cohen wasn’t a normal person. He was a monster. And it wasn’t only that he knew it or had accepted it. He liked it.

Jonathon squeezed hard until I had no choice but to release the coin. It clattered to the floor, and I swallowed down a cry of pain. He didn’t loosen his grip, and fire spread from his crushing fingertips up to my elbow. “I know we as a culture don’t make a habit of keeping people, Matilda,” he said with quiet venom. “Not anymore, anyway.”

I gritted my teeth, pressing my back into the glass and forcing myself not to retaliate. It would only make him worse. And I had to stay calm. I had to stay rational. Kael would come. He would come, and then this would be nothing but another nightmare.

“But I’m not a person,” he hissed through his teeth. His mouth, so wide and disconcerting, stretched far across his thin features. “I’m a god. I’m untouchable. And you’re going to prove that for me, Matilda. You’re my test. Can I own a person?” He dug his fingernails into my flesh until I cried out, fighting against him on instinct. “I think I can.”

This lunatic really had sunk deeper into his own madness than I’d realized. “You can try,” I huffed, angling away from him. “Go for it.” Blood trickled from his fingernails to my elbow.

Jonathon released me suddenly, pushing me against the glass and walking away like he hadn’t just gone Mr. Hyde on me. “I thought about this, actually. This idea I had of owning a person. Of collecting one. You’re a perfect example of why it could never work,” he explained, gesturing to me as he circled a Ming Dynasty vase. “People don’t like being caged.”

“Imagine that,” I muttered. I clasped my left hand around my right wrist, trying to stem the weak flow of blood from his nail imprints in my skin.

“And then it occurred to me,” Jonathon stopped, facing me through the double panes of the protective glass around the vase. The reflection threw refracted fragments of his face around the glass, causing his expression to waver with an inhuman quality. “I have to make you want it.”

My body tensed suddenly, snapping my senses to attention. Want it?

“I have to take your will to be away. Clearly, I want you to be you. To be alive. To walk and breathe and talk and exist, but I don’t want you to think.” He smiled, his enthusiasm evident in the way his thick eyebrows reached for his hairline. “That’s when it hit me.” Jonathon leaned to the side so he could see me without the impediment of the glass between us. “A lobotomy.”

Ice trickled through my veins. I couldn’t have heard that right. “Sorry?”

“I know, dramatic, right?” Jonathon’s face didn’t match his words. His feverish excitement escaped his desire to remain cool and collected as he straightened and took a step toward me. “But think about it. A little snip to your white matter,” he made a snipping gesture with his fingers, “and all your worries will vanish.”

I stumbled to the side, backing away before I was forced to stand for another second through Jonathon’s crazed diatribe. “You’re—that’s—”

“Insane?” Jonathon prompted. His laugh allowed some of his instability to bubble out. “Aren’t all geniuses a little of that? Imagine it for a moment, though. Think of how ethereal you would become. An orphic display of humanity. Beautiful, untouchable, undisturbed by anything. I can’t believe I’m the first to think of it.”

I could. Because it was fucking certifiable. And then it occurred to me suddenly why Jonathon wasn’t worried about Kael finding me. Why he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the idea of a cutthroat mercenary coming to rescue me.

It wouldn’t matter. Because Kael wouldn’t get here in time.

Two hands clamped around my arms, and just as the sharp, piercing pain of a needle stabbed through my neck, I managed to gust out a breathless, “No.”

Jonathon watched me go down, his hands behind his back and his quiet, manic excitement filling the silence with deafening clarity. My vision blurred, and I only had a moment to digest the fact that my time here on the earth as me was up. The drugs swept through my system, fogging my thoughts and turning my limbs to gelatin.

He won’t make it, I thought as the world tilted and I fell into darkness. And it will break him.