CHAPTER EIGHT
MADDOX
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I put my phone on the speaker as Mitch closes the car door and circles around to the driver’s seat.
“Parker,” I answer.
“Where the fuck are you?” he demands.
My lids lower in response to his tone. “I am heading home. What’s wrong?”
I think I know, but I’m not offering up the information should I be wrong.
“Is she there?”
Ah, so I was right.
“Who?” I ask, my voice a rasp as I delay answering. I don’t want Mitch to hear, so take it off speaker and put it up against my ear.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He hangs up and I shake my head.
“Everything okay?” Mitch asks, turning around.
“Yes.” I nod.
I’ll ring Parker back later.
In fact, I’ll tell all the guys, but I had to get Kyra safely secured in my penthouse before I drew them into it. Then last night she kept me busy with her self-harm activities.
Goddamn her.
The rest of the night I spent stroking my cock in the longest shower of my life while I attempted to replace images of her with literally any other woman.
And failed.
Right now, none of the guys are accomplices and I want to keep it that way. I knew they’d figure it out, but I also know none of them will call the police. But limiting the risk to them, if this goes south, is important.
They’ll disagree, of course.
I’d do the same.
For now, while Pierce starts to lose his shit when he learns Kyra is gone missing, I’m watching her on the cameras via my phone app.
She’s slept a lot, paced the room, lain on her back with her legs up the wall, and had a shower. Then, reluctantly dressed in the clothes I provided.
I say reluctantly, because she pulled every item of clothing out and tossed them angrily around the room. Then carefully folded them all and put them back nicely.
She’s pathetic.
But I can’t seem to look away from the beautiful creature. Mostly, at that time, because she was half naked. Side note: tell my tech team that we need a better zoom on this app.
It’s like I’m addicted to some terrible reality show.
Except I’m her captor.
Kyra has small breasts with deep pink nipples and almost no hair between her legs. Which just emphasizes her youth. I might only be ten years older than her, but there’s an innocence to her that other women her age don’t have.
That doesn’t mean she’s not as sexual. The chemistry between us was so thick last night I almost couldn’t walk away.
Stop fucking thinking about her and stay on track.
I shake my head and watch the cars and buildings go by as Mitch drives me home. Parker must have connected the dots. Reports of Kyra’s disappearance hit the news this afternoon. Only one day after I had her removed from her home.
Kidnapped.
Say it.
Even for you, this is fucked up.
I’m not a good man. I can’t be. My soul was torn from my tiny innocent body before I can remember, and my heart doesn’t know how to love.
I have friends, closer than I imagine most people have, but do we love? I don’t know. It feels like we’re allies, walking through life, side by side, holding space for the shared pain we all endured as children.
None of us has the capacity for love.
We know right from wrong, but that doesn’t mean we don’t do wrong.
As I scrolled through the media and watched the news reporting on her mysterious disappearance today, I felt a thrill race through my veins that my plan was unfolding. Especially when they said, “There’s been no response from her fiancé’s PR team yet.”
I snickered.
I can just imagine the steam pouring out his ears and the screaming. My father will be furious.
I took one of his toys.
Oh no, how fucking sad.
The cunt.
“I heard she’s taken off to England.” Trisha from The Midday Report said to her three co-anchors.
I wonder where she heard that?
She got an anonymous tip from me, that’s where.
“I think we can all agree this isn’t a love match, can’t we?”
“He’s not exactly Prince Charming,” one replied.
“Unless you’re in your sixties.” Another chuckled.
I smile as I gaze out the window and we pull up outside my building.
Pierce will be going out of his mind.
God, I wish I could watch it live.
We’re just getting started, Daddy Dearest.
“Have a good night, Mr. Sterling,” Mitch says as I climb out of the vehicle.
“You, too.” I stride across the sidewalk and head up in the elevator, my heart pounding harder than it should at the thought of facing my little prisoner.
She was sleeping when I took her breakfast this morning. As I stood watching her face from the doorway, I almost cracked and crossed the room.
Why?
“Hola, Mr. Sterling.” Alma greets me.
“Hola, Alma.”
“Dinner is in the oven. I will turn it on.” She offers.
“Thanks.”
By the time I’ve ripped off my tie, dropped my keys and phone on the marble countertop in the kitchen and said goodbye to her, the buzzer on the wall indicates I have a visitor.
“Fucking Parker,” I mutter and walk over to press the button.
I don’t say anything.
“Let me up.” He growls through a slight crackle.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Motherfucker .
I press the button to give him permission to reach my penthouse floor, then walk into the living room where I pour two glasses of whisky.
When I turn, I find both Parker and Travis standing in the doorway.
“Cool. An intervention,” I say, then pour a third glass. “You both shouldn’t be here. Go home.”
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Travis asks, tossing his jacket over the back of the sofa and taking the offered glass.
Parker does the same, shaking his head at me.
Like me, the two of them are large men. Over six foot two and at least two hundred and thirty pounds each. Hitting the gym and making our bodies strong was a survival technique, and then we realized it attracted women. Something teenage boys are very happy about.
Now it’s a way of life.
It was a choice.
Become fat, pathetic fuckers or strong, powerful men.
Then add a few tattoos and you pretty much get the image of who we are. I’ve got the darkest hair, longer on top. Parker’s has a hint of chocolate brown; Travis, much like me; Zayne on the blonder size; and Killian already has flicks of gray through his at almost thirty-two.
Apparently, it’s distinguished.
And gets him laid more than us.
It’s all bullshit.
We could have pussy every night if we wanted. And sometimes I do.
I sit down in my armchair and prop my ankle on my knee.
“What am I doing? Taking revenge, like I’ve always planned. This was too good an opportunity to ignore.”
“By kidnapping an innocent woman?” Travis drops down onto the sofa while Parker takes the other armchair.
I sip the golden liquid and almost moan as it slides down my throat.
“She’s not innocent,” I finally say.
Parker’s brows lift.
“She’s in love with my father. I believe. Something is going on. Just because she is young and beautiful does not make her innocent. You both know that.” I place my glass on the table beside me, then drop my foot, leaning forward and pressing my palms together, ignoring their incredulous looks. “Look, I have a plan.”
“Here we go,” Travis rolls his eyes.
“Why aren’t you at the fucking Alliance Club?” I snap.
“Because I fucking own it and have more money than God, so can do what I want.” Travis snorts. “Here’s a better question, why do you kidnap Kyra Fox?”
I sit back and let out a sigh.
“You know the rules, Maddox. We don’t hurt innocents.” Parker points at me with his glass.
“Which,” I remind them, “is yet to be determined.”
“Come on,” Parker drawls.
I feel the muscles in my jaw twitch. These assholes should have my back. We all have a clear goal of destroying the men and women who abused us as children.
It’s not like I fucking killed her.
She’s living in one of the most expensive penthouses in Manhattan, for god’s sakes. Unable to roam around, to be fair, but I’ve fed her, clothed her, and even administered first aid.
With all those facts on the table, clearly I’m quite a good host.
In any case, they need to listen and understand my plan before cornering me like this.
“I’m not a kidnapper—” Both their lifted brows stop me. “Fine, I’ve kidnapped her. But I’m going to give her back.”
Am I?
Yes, I am.
What else am I going to do?
“Oh well, that’s fine, then. We can go.” Parker moves to get up, then sits back down and shoots me a you fucking idiot look. “It’s all over the news. Do you want to go to prison?”
If it meant destroying my father? Maybe.
But I won’t be going to prison and they both know it. In the world we play, we have our own commerce system. People who trade information, power, and influence.
And if it's money that’s required, then I have billions and can happily pay the piper.
“Let’s hear his plan,” Travis says.
“This isn’t a board meeting.” I grumble and pick up my glass again. “I have a plan and it's unfolding.”
“He doesn’t have a plan.” Travis shoots Parker a glance, who shakes his head.
“I have a fucking plan.” I snap.
“So, when you get arrested, do you want us to bail you out or break you out?” Travis asks, ignoring me.
I can’t help it, I laugh.
“Break me out?” I keep laughing. “Dude, you own a golf course and sex club. No offense, but you might want to leave the security and muscle stuff to some hired help.”
People I know.
“Fine, we’ll let you rot in prison. Just know that I could have got the chopper in the air and repelled down to get you out.”
Looks like I’ll rot in prison with him as my cellmate.
“You are both fucking idiots,” Parkers states. “Maddox, you know you’ve crossed the line here.”
We all go quiet.
I do.
But taking Kyra was the only option. I was hardly going to swoop in and make her fall in love with me. I’m not someone who can fake a smile even if my life depended on it.
I don’t even like fucking smiling.
But if he wants to talk about lines being crossed, I’ve got some comparisons to remind him about why we walk through life as best friends and have pledged to support one another as we take revenge.
Strength in silence: revenge is a patient man’s game. We act in shadows, speak only truth, and never reveal our hand too soon.
“You mean like Pierce crossed the line the day he made me stroke my eleven-year-old cock while he poured ice cream over it? Then helped himself to me like I was his dessert?”
“Fuck.” Travis glances away, his jaw clenched.
We all have our stories, but Parker isn’t budging. I’ve always thought he might be the one of us with the most morals.
Hard to know.
So I continue.
“Or how he strapped me to the wall and let four of his friends take turns at sucking me off until I couldn’t get another hard-on?”
That went on for hours and is seared into my memory. The drunk mature men, stroking themselves, laughing, and getting off as they wrapped their dirty mouths around my young shaft.
The memory making me clench my fist.
Finally, Parker’s eyes leave mine and I know I’ve hit the mark, triggering his own wound.
“You could’ve found another way.” He growls.
He’s right.
“I could’ve, but Pierce doesn’t deserve to simply be stripped of his wealth after what he did to me and many others. He deserves to be shamed and hung out to dry, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I stand, aware that Kyra has been locked up for almost twenty-four hours.
I want to check on her.
“Do not hurt her,” Parker warns.
“She won’t be harmed,” I promise. “Her reputation, perhaps, but that will teach her not to play with men like us. Maybe she’ll go and find some nice average boy her own age and live a happy life.”
Something about that idea doesn’t sit right with me.
The little firecracker flying across the room to get her makeshift prison shard isn’t someone I see living in Ohio with two-and-a-half kids, baking cakes.
Perhaps that’s what she wants.
My two friends finish their drinks and follow me out to the entrance.
“Bring her to the club.” Travis tells me.
“What? No. She’s a...prisoner.” I shake my head.
Does he not know how kidnapping works?
Do I?
“You can’t keep her locked up,” he replies as if the idea is insane.
“Yes. I can,” I reply. “She’s my prisoner .”
I glance at Parker, seeking support, which I realize is insane under the circumstances, but I don’t understand why I have to spell this out.
“Pierce is about to lose his mind while the media and public try to figure out where the Fox heiress has gone. Meanwhile, I’m not going to take her out for a walk. She’s not a puppy.”
Parker snorts despite himself.
The elevator opens and they step inside.
Parker punches the button and meets my gaze. “Well, I’ve seen her photos. She’s a sexy little thing. Don’t fuck her. That’s the least you can do.”
I swallow and feign disinterest.
“I have no interest or intention in Ms. Fox,” I lie. “See you on Friday night.”
“He’ll fuck her,” Travis says, as I shake my head and make my way down the hall to see my little prisoner.