Taking Over the Dark (High Stakes Syndicate #2)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

ELLINOR

Nash’s head is between my thighs, my hand is in his coarse, thick hair gripping it like my life depends on it, and I’m grinding my pussy up and down his face. Using that glorious mustache and beard the way whoever made this specimen of a man intended. My hips are moving on their own, and right as I’m about to tip off the edge, I remember where we are and that I’m nowhere near the comfort of my own bed right now. ? * The last thing I remember is the sand and being enclosed in that fucking metal hellhole we were in.

I know it was some kind of bunker because the ceilings were way too high, and there were fucking stairs attached to the ceiling or lid of the thing. We couldn’t see them from the floor, but I don’t think we would’ve had the energy to get to them even if we could.

I peel my eyes open, and truthfully, they don’t feel as bad as I thought they would. Hour after hour in that bunker, they would only feel worse and worse. I take in the feeling in my head, and it’s the clearest it’s been since we were taken; I’m not dizzy, and there are no hallucinations. Well, if you don’t count the wet dream I was just having. My eyes are hit with a bright light, and I say, “Fuck.” Lifting my hand, I shield them from the assaulting light. “Great… Is this heaven?” I roll my eyes, adding to my bitching, “I figured they were lying about this shit hole.”

Then, the prettiest plum-colored dreads I’ve seen fall into my face, followed by a woman’s equally beautiful face with deep sepia-colored skin. Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching up to cup her cheek, making sure she’s real, and I didn’t conjure up some beautiful woman of my dreams. “Hi, Ellie, darlin’. I’m Haisley. How are you feeling?” she asks me in the softest, slightly country accent. It’s the cherry on top of her beauty; she has to be an angel—there’s no way this is real.

“Where am I? And why do I not feel like a bag of shit?” I turn my head to the right side and see Nash lying there on what looks like a surgical table with a bright-ass light above him too. “Fuck. Is Nash okay? Are we both okay?!” She doesn’t seem like she’s here to hurt us, or I would sure as hell be freaking the fuck out, but I still have way too many questions I need answers to.

“You’re both okay. You both were severely dehydrated, but we’ve had IVs in you pumping you full of everything you need,” she informs me while her hand rests on my shoulder.

I ramble off the idea that hits me, “Oh, that’s why I feel like a million bucks. You should open one of those med spa things where you can get IVs after a wild night of drinking! This is great. I’ve gotta tell Blair about this. Could you imagine getting this while also getting your hair touched up? Genius!” She just chuckles, but doesn’t say anything else. I take my eyes off Nash and see she is looking straight ahead at someone, so I turn my head.

And who do I see?

Marcello and Zamir chit-chatting like nothing is going on.

I feel like I’m in the twilight zone.

Haisley presses a button, and I hear her start talking, “Boss, Ellie is awa?—”

? * I cut her off before she can finish, knowing Marcello’s ass can hear me. “You two stay out there. I know you were my stalker, Marcello Barone. You should be ashamed of yourself.” I’m seething, looking at him through the window that overlooks from his office, and I ignore the heat that rushes to my core at the thought of him being the one who did all those depraved things to me while I was sleeping. Then, continuing along the path of the pissed-off innocent woman, I warn, “You’re on my fucking shit list, Barone. And the fucking groveling is going to be next level if you think you’re going to get away with this.” I want to see this man beg for forgiveness, but what does he do? He looks at me with the most feral grin and icy-blue eyes that feel the opposite of ice. They light my skin on fire.

And I want to be burned by Marcello Barone… but he doesn’t need that forgiveness now.

I still don’t know what Zamir had to do with all of this.

“This is a dream, right?” I hear Nash’s voice, halting my thoughts. He closes his eyes and starts to chant, “Please be a nightmare. Please be a nightmare.”

I whisper to Haisley, “Can I get up and go to him?” She nods in response, and I sit up on this uncomfortable metal table. “You’d think with all this fucking money, you’d at least get some actual hospital beds since you want to play doctor twenty-four-seven.” I roll my eyes to add to the effect. And I know Marcello heard me from the slight tip to his lips.

Haisley releases the intercom button. “Sorry, Ma’am, Boss heard that. I didn’t know if you were finished with the intercom or not…”

“That’s okay, babe. He was meant to hear it.” I wink at Haisley and slowly approach Nash’s bed, still trying to get my bearings about me. Finally reaching him, I push his hair out of his eyes and openly appreciate his beautiful face, even if it is all caked with grime-he’s beautiful. His usual stubble that he walks around with has grown to a short black beard and mustache. And if I have anything to do with it, he won’t be shaving it off anytime soon.

“I’m going to leave you two alone. You’re both cleared to walk about the warehouse, but Doc wants to check you over once more before you leave for the night.” I give Haisley a nod of understanding, and she’s out the door.

The sheepish look in Nash’s eyes is enough to make me want to hang Cello and Zamir by the balls and leave them upside down until they’re on the brink of death. “Nash, you did the right thing by telling me about Marcello.”

Quieter than I would like, Nash opens up to me, “I know… I’m just worried about what they’ll do to me now. Zamir’s not dead, so I’m guessing Marcello has no clue about the possibility of him being involved in our kidnapping.” He won’t even risk looking over at the two buffoons through the glass.

I pat his shoulder, then assure him, “Not a lot gets past Cello, Big Boy. I’m sure if he had even the smallest inkling that he could’ve been involved, his organs would’ve been pulled from him days ago.”

That seems to sate Nash, but I want to talk about what he said to me before I passed out for the last time in that god-forsaken bunker. This is a conversation I want to have between us and us alone. I don’t want him to feel pressured to tell me again, and now that we’re not in a life-or-death situation, he may not have the same feelings. “I heard that last confession from you, Nash Hayden.” I smirk at him, waiting to see if he remembers. “You ended it with, ‘My psyche would remember this.’” A shy smile finds his lips, and he starts to blush. Now I can tell he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“I wanted to be clean and brush my teeth before saying these words to you again, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” A beat passes before he’s speaking again. “I love you, Ellie Dixon. And what we just endured together showed me that this isn’t just some obsession I have with you. You woke up after being taken for days and immediately stood your ground. You’re protective, smart as a whip, and know exactly what you want without settling. This was never your goal, and I know that, but I can love you enough for the both of us.”

I’m just staring at him in shock, my brain unable to catch up with what he added to those three little words. “Nash…”

“You don’t need to say it back, Ellie. Take all the time you need.”

* ? Wanderlust - The Weeknd

* ? Daisy - Sorry X Version - Sorry X