Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Liesel
“I’m on my way, chiquita.”
I hear a car alarm beep, but it barely registers with me as I stare at the amputated hand in a box on my desk. I barely shifted my gaze away from it long enough to find Jorge’s business card and dial his number.
“Jorge, I need you. Hurry.”
“I’m coming. I’m almost in the building.”
There’s silence for a moment, then I hear the elevator ding. He must’ve practically run to the elevator. It feels like an eternity before I hear his voice again.
“I’m coming into your office right now.”
The blinds on my glass wall are shut, but my door is open.
I see him step through the office suite’s doorway as I snap the lid shut on the box.
It’s only now that I think about the type of package sent to me.
It’s not a regular shipping box. It’s more like a gift one with a lid that flips open.
I can’t handle looking at it any longer.
He enters my office without knocking, shutting the door behind him. I feel like I can breathe again. The tightness in my chest eases only a fraction, but it’s enough to keep the panic at bay.
“What happened, Liesel?”
His voice is soft yet commanding. It allows me to focus on something specific rather than the way my mind raced a moment ago. I point to the box and look away. He lifts the lid but says nothing. I hear him close it again, and his hands gently cup the outside of my arms.
“Is that your father’s?”
I nod. “The ring. He’s never taken it off.”
Jorge offers me a tight smile. I’m gazing into his eyes, but not everything registers.
It’s as though my brain is in a fog. He pulls me against him, and I shudder.
I hunch, so I can listen to his heartbeat and feel his heat seeping into me.
With his arms wrapped around me, I feel protected.
But it doesn’t last long since I pull away and look up at him.
“How did you get here so fast?”
I guess some things are becoming clearer to me. I suspected he might’ve been outside my building, but I wasn’t sure. I told myself that’s why I called him and not somebody else, because I knew he was nearby. But that’s not the entire truth. I feel safe with him. Only him.
He watches me as he fires off some text. I can’t read what he’s writing, but his thumbs are going a mile a minute.
“Liesel, you need to come with me to my hotel.”
I shake my head.
“Liesel, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
“I can’t go there. I have to…”
What the fuck do I have to do? I don’t even know.
“Have to what, Liesel? You called me for a reason. Because you knew I’d know how to handle this. You didn’t call anyone else, just me.”
“How can you be so certain of that?”
Because I need you to be.
“Because I’m standing here, and no one else is already here, and I can tell no one else is coming.”
“I still can’t go to a hotel with you.”
Some sense of propriety permeates my rattled mind.
“Do you fear me? Do you think I did this?”
My mouth drops open as I shake my head vehemently. “If I thought you’d done this, I wouldn’t have called you.”
“Exactly. You know you can rely on me.”
My brain seems to clear with that one word. Rely.
When has a Rottweiler ever been reliable? I suppose reliably defensive of its family and territory. I’m not his family, but am I now some type of territory in a syndicate war? I lick my lips in nervousness but shake my head again.
“Can’t you make this go away?”
“Not until I know what this is. I need to find out where your father is and whether anyone else is in danger.”
“My mother? My sister?” The panic is back.
“I don’t know yet, Liesel. That’s what I have to find out.”
“How will you do that?”
“I need to get you somewhere safe in an environment I can control. Then I can sort all of that out.”
“Can’t we do that somewhere I already know?”
“Liesel, are you afraid of appearances if someone sees you going to a hotel with me? Is that why you’re hesitant?”
I can’t do much more than nod. I know I should’ve called Bastian, but he’s barely a thought.
Today is his day off, so I know he’s at home.
I could’ve gone straight there. I could’ve called him from the car.
I could’ve called Jorge from the car. I don’t know what else I could’ve done.
I’m making excuses now that I remember my boyfriend.
“Liesel, you are coming with me to my hotel. Do not argue, little one, or I will spank you.”
My head jerks back, shocked at Jorge’s words, but it’s clear he’s unwavering in that promise.
“I’m not a child.”
His gaze sweeps over me, and I think he likes what he sees. I think he can tell it intrigues me, and I hate that.
“I never thought you were, but I will spank you if you disobey me.”
He scoops up the box and ushers me toward my office door. It’s not until we step out of the suite that his hand hovers at my lower back. I can’t help the shiver that courses through me. The gesture is possessive and protective.
I like it way too much.
No man has ever done that before. I’m certain he felt my reaction because now his hand presses against the top of my hips as we enter the elevator.
He positions me so that his right shoulder is slightly in front of me.
It looks like we’re standing side by side, but it would only take one step for him to shift and block me from anyone entering the elevator.
Fortunately, it doesn’t stop until we get to the ground floor.
He ushers me toward a vehicle as he uses the fob to pop open the trunk. He opens the front passenger door first and holds it open for me. I slide in and twist toward him, but he gently closes the door before walking around to put the box in the trunk.
A pang of guilt strikes me as I think about my father’s hand rattling around in the trunk by itself. It seems so inhumane. But I can’t picture sitting here with the box in my lap or between my feet like it was Thing from the Addams Family.
I nearly jump out of my skin when he opens the door. I hear my name, but I don’t react. Another moment of mental paralysis strikes me.
“Liesel.”
He rests his hand on my thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze. When I only turn my head to stare at him, he reaches across me and snaps the belt into place, adjusting it so it doesn’t rub against my neck before he puts his own on.
“Thank you.”
That’s the last thing either of us says until we reach his hotel, which is blessedly only a couple miles away.
We’re there in ten minutes. We pull into the hotel’s underground parking garage, and he backs into the spot.
It dawns on me this must be a strategic move in case he should ever need to leave somewhere in a hurry.
That’s both frightening and reassuring, as though I need any more complex or conflicting emotions right now.
“Stay in the car until I come around to your side.”
I nod. He gets out and goes to the trunk, retrieving the box. I remember it struck me as odd when I arrived and found it on my desk after lunch. Johan said he didn’t see who delivered it because he’d also gone out to lunch.
Jorge opens my door, and I unfasten my belt.
He offers me his hand, and I gladly take it.
It’s warm and dry, which makes me worry mine might be clammy.
But if it is, he doesn’t seem to notice.
It’s reassuring the way it’s so large it practically swallows mine completely.
He lets go entirely too soon, but his hand goes back to the small of my back once he’s pressed the elevator button.
When we step inside, he angles us the same way he did the last time.
It shouldn’t surprise me he’s in a penthouse suite. When we step off the elevator, I notice the men outside his door. They must be his guards. I refuse to look weak in front of anybody since I trust no one but Jorge right now. I lift my chin and push my shoulders back and look straight ahead.
Jorge unlocks the door, but before I can walk fully into the suite, his arm goes out in front of me, blocking my way.
He places the box on the entryway table before looking around the room.
He pokes his head into the bedroom before tilting it.
I suppose he can see into the bathroom from there.
He does the same thing with the other bedroom.
It reassures me as much as it frightens me. Doesn’t he trust the men outside the door? Aren’t they there to keep anyone else out?
“Liesel, old habits die hard. Unless it’s someone else in my family sweeping a room, I’ll never be comfortable without looking around. It’s not a reflection on my men so much as proof that my uncles’ ingrained their training in me.”
My mind is clearer than before Jorge arrived at my office, but my ability to speak hasn’t fully returned.
I feel like a bobblehead when all I do is nod.
He returns to stand before me. He reaches past me to shut and bolt the door, then he places his hands on the outside of my shoulders just like before he hugged me in my office. His hold is light, but it bolsters me.
“You’re safe with me, Liesel. I promise.”
That forces a choked laugh from me. “If you were a safe man, Jorge, I wouldn’t have called you.”
His gaze intensifies as it sweeps over me before returning to meet mine. “Safe with me, chiquita, not from me. Obey me, and we won’t have any problems.”
Even in a moment like this—when I’m terrified for my family and confused about what the fuck is happening—he can make my pussy ache with a look and a few words. He tempts me to reply with “Yes, sir,” but I remain quiet.
“Would you feel better if I ordered you a cheeseburger and some fries? Would it distract you for a bit?”
Wait. A cheeseburger and fries? How does he know I like those? That they’re comfort foods. They have been since grad school.
He’s been following me. I suspected it, but that confirms it.
Panic rises from the tips of my toes, churning in my belly, making my chest burn, and brain scream “RUN.”