9. Bored
NINE
BORED
KYLIE
N ot gonna lie, I was kind of hoping my pretty boy captor would take me up on my invitation and join me downstairs.
His reaction wasn’t like anything expected. I mean, he’s a mafia guy. Low man on the pole as the dude driving the leader around, sure, but he has a gun. A snub-nosed Ruger. He’s armed—and I’d bet my latest commission fee that he’s never pulled that trigger in a life-or-death situation before.
Is he a good criminal? Talk about an oxymoron. He stole me, but there’s no denying the flash of shame that crossed his face when he realized that he is way underprepared. Even a regular woman would need more than he has, but Luca had the misfortune to nab a high maintenance, exacting chick like me.
He wants a mountain prisoner? I’m game. It seems like it’s going to be fun. Granted, my outlook on life is a lot different from the ordinary person. If he annoys me, I’ve got my strychnine and, like, ten other ways to end him before I take his keys, steal whatever car he used to transport me here, and head back to the city.
And why should I? After what happened last night, I think I’m owed a little Christmas vacation. I was planning on finishing my contract and then flitting around, spending the holidays by myself before heading to Florida to visit my parents, Lindy, and Charles. A mountain cabin getaway with a guy as easy on the eyes as this Luca?
I like the idea of it more than I should.
I’m a healthy twenty-six-year-old with a pretty high libido. He’s gotta be close to my age, and unlike Devil, he doesn’t wear a ring on his finger. Sure, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a lady—or a guy—back in Springfield. It’s possible. Consider his looks, more than likely. But what if he got the babysitting gig because he’s like me: no real ties to anyone but the life we’ve chosen?
I’ll run with that. After all, if I’m stuck here, seducing Luca and using him to pass the time sounds like a plan.
I’m Kylie Ferguson. I always have a plan.
Sometimes I don’t think them through. I’ll admit that. I definitely caught him off-guard by breaking out of the cuffs and the chains so easily, but then making no move to leave the cabin. Now, do I believe he’d actually shoot me if I scoffed and tried to leave? My initial impression is a seventy/thirty split. He has a job to do, and if Devil gave it to him, he’ll do it.
But luckily for Luca, I don’t want to leave. Why should I? He has to take care of me for as long as I continue to act like I give a shit that Devil killed Springfield’s vice mayor. Please. I was on Skid Row to commit murder myself. Who am I to judge? But he obviously thinks I’m some poor innocent woman who saw too much.
I can use that.
So far, captivity isn’t half bad. As long as he doesn’t insist that I sit in a dark, gloomy basement in chains, I’ll be okay. Like he said, there’s a pretty decent bathroom downstairs, with a toilet and a shower stall and— yes— hot running water. The cot isn’t as plush as the one in my room at my parents’ condo, but when you spend your life in hotels, motels, and hostels, you get used to hard-ass mattresses. I’ll survive.
I don’t have my phone, but that could be a good thing. I’ve been meaning to unplug for a minute, and usually do when I’m not looking to take on a job for a few days. Not having a TV is going to be a dealbreaker if Luca doesn’t decide to be my entertainment, but I saw one upstairs. Once I can get him to understand that I’ll be the most willing captive in his kidnapping career, maybe he’ll let me upstairs to watch it. Or, if he’s going to keep me locked down here, I can bat my lashes and get him to bring it down.
Though, to be honest, I would rather he take one for the team and let me have some fun with him. That’s basically the outline of my plan. Be the model captive. Don’t try to escape, only ask for what I need, and do what Kylie does best: keep him off-guard. After our exchange upstairs, I’m not worried he’ll hurt me. He’s my baby-sitter, right? He wants me to side with him and his boss.
I might as well let him think that’s a possibility.
Until then, I’ll do what I can to get close to him. Have a little fun if he’s down for that. Without my phone, I can’t get into contact with my client anyway. As it is, Winter’s probably waiting for me to confirm that I made my kill. Then again, since I’m not off the grid—and he clearly has other eyes on the city while he’s tending to his enterprise elsewhere—he’s gotta know. And that’s assuming the news of the vice mayor’s murder doesn’t get out on its own. I mean, the guy was pretty high-profile in Springfield. I wouldn’t be surprised if the people there start wondering who did it.
Since Devil’s obviously not claiming the hit, why shouldn’t the Hummingbird?
Too bad I didn’t think to drop my figurine on Skid Row before Luca manhandled me into the trunk. I had to hide that and my knife under the interior instead, but it would’ve been so much if I left my calling card behind in Springfield.
Who knows? I might even suggest the idea to Luca once I have the driver wrapped around my little finger. He doesn’t need to know I’m the Hummingbird; in fact, I’m going to do everything I can from learning my little secret. But over the years, my rep’s taken on a life of its own. He has to have heard of me.
Why not give me credit for the kill?
Until then, I’ll play the role of the damsel in distress, Kylie-style. And when I’m not having fun anymore, I’ll get my revenge for him daring to drug me, then I’ll figure out my next move.
He has a gun. I’m banking on the fact that he has a phone, too, plus a car.
And, most importantly, no idea who he’s dealing with.
I shouldn’t have flippantly reminded him to lock the basement door behind me.
It’s been hours since I came down here. Part of me hoped he’d follow after me when I mentioned taking a shower, but he obviously didn’t. I even left the bathroom door open so he knows I’m not hiding down here, but by the time I finished, grabbing one of the towels hanging off the hook in the small room, there was no sign of my captor.
That didn’t change.
I’m hungry. I found a box of slightly outdated granola bars in the fridge for some reason, plus three bottles of chilled water. I drank one, choked down a bar, and waited for him to check on me. When he didn’t, I checked the door. Locked. I didn’t want to push my luck and kick it open with my boot, so I banged a couple of times.
No answer.
That’s about the time I started to think my impression on Luca was waaaay off. Did he decide to leave me down here to rot?
Um. No.
No. He didn’t.
One downside of being in a windowless basement with now phone? I have no idea what time it is. It’s been long enough that I’m boooored. Hungry and bored, and leaning back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling, my heart jumps when I hear the gentle knock coming from the door upstairs.
I’m being held captive. He’s the guy watching over me.
And he just knocked.
Biting back an amused smile at just how easy this is going to be, I call out, “I’m decent, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Considering I hear the door ease open, plus the light steps of his sneakers as he comes down the stairs, it probably was.
Now, I didn’t lie. Not really. I am decent.
I’m also just wearing only the skimpy towel I found in the bathroom.
All the important bits are covered so I don’t know why he comes to a short stop at the bottom of the stairs, eyes locked on me.
To be fair, part of me was looking for a reaction from Luca. Part of me just didn’t want to put my dirty clothes back on. I twisted my hair up in a bun while I was washing off. When I didn’t see a hairbrush or any curly girl hair products in the bathroom, I decided to leave my mop like it is for now until I have the supplies to do a deep wash.
Something else to add to the list of things I’m gonna need...
And, if those boxes and bags piled up in his arms are any clue, all I have to do is ask for it and my captor will find a way to get it.
Clothes. He brought me clothes, and in the right size, too. Nothing fancy. Plain jeans, a couple of t-shirts, a bra, and a six-pack of basic underwear. All online buys, and items he would’ve picked out with same-day delivery.
His tongue darting out, dabbing his bottom lip a little nervously, he adds that he’s also expecting a grocery delivery.
The whole time he’s talking, he keeps going from looking at my face, his eyes dropping to my naked legs on display before he catches on that he’s ogling me and quickly looks away.
I have my answer, then. Whether or not he has a partner back home, there’s definitely a spark flying between us. I sense the chemistry like electric shocks floating through the air, and I don’t think I’m the only one.
So I do what I always do: I flirt, also Kylie-style.
“Well, gee. You sure know how to make your prisoners feel welcome. I was beginning to think we were both in over ours heads, but maybe not. So what is it? This your thing? Kidnapping helpless victims and keeping them in your basement?”
I surprised him. I still think he’s waiting for me to break down in tears or something, and the tease in my voice has thrown him for a loop.
He rubs the back of his hand over his mouth before admitting, “It’s not mine.”
“What? Your thing? Or your basement?”
“The basement. It belongs to… a friend of mine.”
I glance over my shoulder, eying the handcuffs hanging off the headboard. “Makes it weirder, you know. Just saying.”
He clears his throat. “Besides. You’re the only girl I’ve ever had to take.”
“And that makes me get the fuzzies,” I tease, sticking the tip of my tongue out through the gap between my teeth. “Knowing I’m the first chick ran off with.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “It’s not like that.”
“Mm.”
I’m fucking with him. It’s just too, too easy. Besides, as grateful as I am that he cared enough to get me food and clothes, he still stole me. I’m not going to let him forget that.
“Anyway,” he adds, “it’s not that weird. My friend comes out to the cabin with his wife when they want to get away from the city. He’s not taking prisoners, either.”
I peek at the handcuffs again. “Those are theirs? The chains, too?” At Luca’s nod, I admit, “Okay. That makes a lot more sense why they’d be down here. If there’s one thing I can say about me, it’s that I don’t yuck another couple’s yum.”
“Couple?” he echoes. His Adam’s apple bobs. “You, uh… you involved with some?” His striking green eyes flicker to my hand. “Is that the ‘H’?”
Wouldn’t he like to know?
I offer him a sly smile. “What’s the matter, Luca? Didn’t you do your research before you took me? Or after?”
“How? I don’t even know your name.”
He did something nice for me. Sure, it’s the least he can do after he tossed me in a trunk and chained me up in here, but I’m in a much better mood now that I know how easy it’s going to be to manipulate this guy.
I decide to play the game with him just a little.
Shaking my pointer finger I at him, I tell him, “Uh uh. I see what you’re doing. You ask me if I’m seeing someone. Not because you give a shit, but because you’re trying to figure out if someone’s gonna come looking for me.”
“What? No, I?—”
See? Easy.
“Okay. You don’t have to torture me or anything for the info, ace. I’ll tell you.”
“Torture? Who said anything about torture?”
I give him a look that says he did. “My parents live in Florida. I have a sister. She’s married. Second time around, and we’re all hoping this one will work out. Me? I’ve never been married. Haven’t had a serious relationship since college.” All true. The thing about being whoever the clients expect you to be? As amusing as that is, sometimes I just want to be myself. Why not now? “I went to Rutgers. That’s in New Jersey. Got a BA in history, but not my MRS. I’m only twenty-six, though, so, like, what’s the rush? My job takes me everywhere so I don’t have a boss looking for me, either. I’m the best chick you could’ve picked to steal. So how’s that? Satisfied?”
His forehead wrinkles. “You’ll tell me all that, but not your name?”
That’s right, buddy. Keep up.
“I did say you need to earn it.” I jerk my chin at him. “So why don’t you tell me something about yourself so I don’t just keep thinking of you as my creepy captor.”
The ‘creepy’ was a nice touch. I know from the way he winces that he’ll tell me just as much as I did—and, like me, it’ll be all true.
“Okay. We’re going to be spending the time together, so it’s only fair. My name’s Luca. Luca St. James. I’m twenty-seven. I don’t have any family. Not anymore,” he says, and that sparks my interest. Are they dead? No contact? Interesting, especially when he adds, “Not unless you count the Sinners.”
Luca has been standing this whole time, standing next to the cot once he laid out all of the clothes near my feet. For the first town, he lowers himself so that we’re on the same level. “If I can’t get you to prove to Devil that you’ll keep quiet, he’ll kill you, and I’ll feel bad about that. Oh, and I’m single, too.”
Completely disregarding the part about how his boss wants me dead, I grin over at him. “Hitting on me, ace?”
He hurries to his feet. “What? No.”
“Pity.” And I mean it. “Well, now that we’ve gotten our introductions out of the way, I’d like to get dressed. Close your eyes if you want. I don’t care. But I am dropping the towel.”
I give him a moment to turn around or close his eyes. When he doesn’t—whether because he thinks I’m bluffing, or he hopes I’m not—I swallow my smile. Oh, yeah. He’s definitely attracted to me.
Good.
I drop the towel, reaching for a pair of panties. Lifting my ass up off the cot, Luca swallows roughly as my bare tits bounce with the motion as I shimmy the panties into place.
“Well?” His voice is strangled, and it really is a pity that his gaze seems pinned to a point over my head now. “Do they fit?”
“Perfectly,” I purr. Then, taking pity on the guy, I snag a shit and pull it on over y head so that I’m just as covered as I was before. “So… how does this work? I just stay down here?”
His eyes meet mine. “Until I believe you when you say you won’t escape.”
“I won’t.”
He doesn’t believe me. “Fine. Then tell me you what you saw last night.”
I could say nothing. That’s what he wants to hear. That I’ll go along with what his boss wants and pretend I was momentarily struck dumb and blind.
But then this would be over before I had any real fun with Luca, and after the way he just looked at me? That would be a shame shame.
So, with the most innocent expression I can muster, I tell him, “I saw a man coming around the corner after three shots rang out. Your boss. The Devil of Springfield. He mentioned a corpse so he must’ve killed a guy.”
Luca shakes his head. “I’ll come back later with dinner. Just… just behave, okay?”
I’ll try.
And, okay, that’s a lie because he doesn’t even make it halfway up the stairs before I call out again, “Don’t forget to lock the door, ace.”