Chapter Fifteen
Flynn
Two hours before
“Where is she?” I ask Kaden as I hang up with Declan. I told him everything—the fire, the messages, the chance that it was her stalker, not an accident and not the Consortium.
He was worried, furious. Told me to keep her safe until he and Viviana could get here. I agreed, for now. But I need to be near her. She’s not leaving my sight again.
“Bathroom,” Kaden answers. It takes me a second to notice her phone on the table, but not her bag.
“That little menace.”
I stride to the bathroom and twist the handle. Locked. My jaw tightens. One hard kick and the door cracks open. The woman behind the counter rushes toward me, but Kaden stops her with a quiet threat.
The window’s open. Rain pours in, pooling on the tiles.
Fuck.
I turn on him, heat crawling up my neck. He knew she’d bolt, and he let her.
“Kaden, what the hell?”
He grins. “I know you love to hunt.”
He’s not wrong, but the thought of her out there with him makes my pulse slip out of rhythm.
I pull my phone from my pocket and open the tracker app. A single red dot glows on the screen.
“She left her phone—” Kaden starts, confused.
“The camera and the computer both have trackers,” I cut in.
He lets out a dark laugh. “She took the camera with her.”
“She did,” I answer, already moving toward the SUV.
Declan picks up on the second ring.
“I need your permission,” I say. Kaden glances over, quiet.
“You never need my permission, brother.” Declan’s voice is low, and I hear Viviana in the background asking what’s happening.
“I do for what I’m about to do.”
Within the Consortium, there’s a line, even for men like us.
Killing, kidnapping, anything that crosses into personal territory—it needs the leader’s word.
Declan Callaghan. I’d asked once before, when it was about the building owner.
He didn’t care. But this is different. This is Autumn.
Viviana’s close to her, and that complicates it.
“Flynn,” Declan warns.
“She escaped,” I say.
“What?” His voice drops lower, colder.
“What’s going on?” Viviana echoes in the background, but Declan doesn’t answer her.
“I have a track on her. I want your green light to—” I stop, hunting for the right words. “Take her somewhere safe,” I say slow, making it sound reasonable.
“You want to kidnap her,” Declan says, amusement tucked too neatly into his voice.
“What? He’s kidnapping Autumn? No!” Viviana yells, and I hear every syllable through the line. “Flynn, I’m going to kill you.” I believe her.
“She’s in danger. She’ll disappear again. The stalker won’t stop. With me she’s safe,” I tell Declan, steady.
“Fine. You have my authorisation.” His voice cuts off everything.
“Flynn Brady, if you hurt her! If you do anything—” Viviana cuts in, screaming. Her voice breaks.
“I’ll tell you once it’s done.” I nod at Kaden, and he peels off the road. “I won’t hurt her. Viviana.”
I hang up and turn to Kaden. “We need to stop at Teine. I need to get something.”
He nods and changes course. The little red dot crawls across the screen. At that speed she’s on a bus or rideshare. But since she’s on the run, I’m guessing a bus, no names, no IDs.
We hit the club. It’s closed, but the bouncer’s already slotted into his post. I walk straight to my office, open the safe, and pull out a small black box.
I stride back to the SUV; Kaden shows me the feed from earlier. It shows Autumn getting dressed, and I have the urge to punch him for watching her in her underwear. That’s mine to see. But then I see it, her kneeling and retrieving a small leather bag. She opens it, and I zoom in.
Money.
That little liar was ready to vanish. She really thought she could fuck me, bleed on me, and just escape.
Cute.
“Drugs?” Kaden asks, pointing at the black box.
I open it. Three syringes full of a strong sleeping drug are ready to use. With her size, half of one is more than enough.
“I grab her, and you—” I point to the syringe.
Kaden smirks and drives off. The red dot shows she’s at a shitty motel. Perfect. I know the owner, and each room has a door that opens to the parking lot. It’ll be an easy retrieval.
She needs to learn that sometimes it’s safer to be surrounded by people. A hotel, even a cheap one. Choosing a lonely motel mostly used by truckers and the occasional lost tourist? Never a good idea.
Kaden parks the SUV by the motel entrance and steps out to talk with the receptionist. I watch him stride over, grab the poor kid by the collar, and the kid almost throws up. Kaden is a big motherfucker; when he gets like this, most men piss themselves.
He comes back to the car with a grin like he’s tasted blood.
“Room seven,” he says, and starts the engine. The storm rolls closer, thunder matching the rage hollowing my chest.
“Do you really want to do this?” Kaden asks before I even open the door.
“Yeah.” I let the breath out hard. “Don’t ask me why. The thought of her disappearing forever makes me want to murder people. Even more.” I look at him. He just nods.
We walk to the door together. Kaden signals to the kid in the lobby, and the lights go out. Footsteps cross the floorboards. I look at Kaden; he’s ready, every muscle wound tight as a coiled wire.
I step in, shoulder to the door, and it flies open. Autumn screams. The sound rakes my ears. She swings in the dark, and I catch the thing in her hand and pull it away. She stumbles and almost falls but catches herself and runs for the bathroom.
I grab a fistful of her long, wet hair and pull hard. She screams again. Kaden moves like a shadow, fast and clinical. He clamps a hand to her shoulder, pries a space on her neck and injects. She yelps; tears spill down her face. Her limbs go suddenly heavy, like the world turned syrup.
I lean in until my lips brush her ear. My breath is hot against her skin. “Thought you could run from me, trouble?” I growl.
She chokes out a single, trembling “Flynn”, and the drug drags her under. Her body slumps, and I pick her up, pressing her hard to my chest.
Walking to the SUV, Kaden gets behind the wheel while I lay her across the back seat.
I watch her chest rise and fall, each breath slower than the last.
The drug’s working. Pulling her under.
I slide into the passenger seat. Kaden drives off.
I grab my phone and text Declan: It’s done. She’s unharmed.
His reply is fast: We’ll be at the mansion tomorrow.
That gives her time to wake up and scream all she wants before they arrive.
“Will you tell her the truth?” Kaden asks.
I adjust the rear-view mirror just enough to catch her face.
“The truth?” He needs to be more specific.
“About the Consortium. Who you really are.” He keeps his tone level, eyes steady on the road, but I keep mine on her.
“It’s not my choice,” I say. “If I tell her, she’ll start connecting the dots, and once she does, she’ll figure out that Declan and Viviana are part of it too.”
I close my eyes for a second, lean my head back.
Declan is the leader; he decides if we tell her, what we tell her, and when. It’s not my call. She’s not part of the families, not tied to any of our deals like Viviana was; she’s an outsider.
So every move I make, everything I say, it all has to run through Declan, and yeah, I love him like a brother, but fuck, that pisses me off.
“Viviana won’t let him tell her,” Kaden mutters. He’s right.
“Then she better come up with some excuse.”
I clench my fists, jaw tight.
“Because I’m not letting Autumn go while there’s some fucking maniac out there after her.” I need to find the bastard and bury him, but there’s too much happening now. The Bratva leader is coming next week.
John Flanaghan stirring shit again, and now Autumn, with her goddamn stalker, pulling strings from the shadows.
I want to hit something.
“Double the security at the mansion,” I tell Kaden, still keeping my eyes closed, forcing down the edge.
“She stays in the room next to mine. Lock all the windows. She doesn’t leave the room unless it’s with you or me.”
Kaden hums in agreement.
I think of Viviana. What she went through when she was forced into Declan’s world.
How she clawed and burned her way through it.
We step into the mansion. Kaden veers off to deal with security while I head upstairs, down the hall, and into the room beside mine.
I texted ahead to have everything ready.
Clean sheets and a few of my shirts and sweatpants folded on the dresser.
Fresh towels in the bathroom. I’ll get her more things tomorrow.
She’s still out cold. I lower her onto the bed and pull a blanket over her. She’s in nothing but her underwear, and for the first time, I really see her body. A scar along her left ribs. A few stretch marks on her right breast and hips. She’s fucking perfect.
She stirs; her breathing shifts, quickens. Her eyes blink open, slow to focus.
“Autumn,” I say.
I’m standing at the end of the bed. Her gaze snaps to mine, and she jolts upright. The blanket slips down. She yanks it back over her chest like it’s armour and glares at me, eyes wide and burning.
“You drugged me!” she shouts.
She stands up too fast, wobbles, but keeps her grip on that blanket like it’s life or death.
“I saved you.” I cross my arms, keeping my eyes on hers.
“You’re an asshole.” She turns and storms toward the door. “I’m leaving.”
I chuckle low in my chest, and when she hears it, she spins around like a storm ready to break. Her face is flushed, breathing ragged.
“You’re not leaving, trouble.”
“The hell I’m not!”
She grabs a lamp off the vanity and hurls it at me. It misses by a mile. I don’t even have to move.
Then she runs.
In her fucking underwear.
My heart kicks harder, and my cock stirs at the sight of her fleeing like that—bare, reckless, and furious.
I inhale once, deep. Then I move.
Boots striking marble, I head down the stairs. The place is empty, exactly how I ordered it; my men are outside.
They protect the estate. I protect her.
A sound of glass breaking echoes on the left side of the house.
She’s clumsy, loud, chaotic. She wouldn’t last a day in this world, and yet somehow she’s survived a stalker for years. The thought twists something in my chest.
I follow the sound, turn into the library, and slip through the side door. I cut her off just as she charges past, and she screams when she sees me.
Too late.
I lunge, grab her waist, and slam her against the wall. Her breath leaves her lungs in a harsh gasp as her back hits the plaster. She lifts her chin, eyes wide, neck arched just enough to bare that soft throat.
“I told you, trouble,” I say, pressing closer. “There’s no running from me.”
Her chest rises fast against mine. Her forehead glistens with sweat. I feel the heat coming off her skin.
“You can’t keep me here!” she shouts, hitting my chest with her fists. “Someone will call the police!”
I lean in, grab her chin, and force her to look at me.
“Who’s going to call the police, Autumn?”
Her brown eyes lock on mine like they want to burn straight through.
“Viviana!” she screams, and she bares her teeth trying to bite me.
I laugh. Hard. Louder than I mean to.
“Viviana?” I echo, shaking my head as I squeeze her jaw hard enough to see the skin flush red.
“She won’t,” I murmur. “Trust me. And you’re staying right here until your stalker is caught.”
I release her, grab her wrist, and drag her to the tall window that overlooks the grounds. The sky is black, the woods swallowing the horizon. Only a few exterior lights mark the edge of the lawn, glowing faintly through the trees.
“You’re at my estate,” I tell her. “Guarded. Locked down. No one’s getting in. And you’re not getting out.”
I step back, let her take it in.
She moves toward the glass. Her head turns, eyes scanning left, then right. Her shoulders fall.
“You can’t do this,” she whispers. The fight’s still in her voice, but it’s cracked now. Threadbare.
“You’re safe here.” I stand behind her, voice low. “You’re not stupid, Autumn. This house. This land. Me.” I let the words hang between us.
“With me, you’re safer than you’ve ever been.”
She turns, brows drawn tight. “Is this all because I let you take my virginity?”
That one hits harder than any bullet.
“You let me?” My voice drops. “You never told me you were a virgin, and you lied for days after.”
Her mouth curves, shameless. “So this protection thing… what is it? You like me?”
I’m ready to snap until I see her gaze slide to my waist, to my gun. The little chaos is trying to play me.
Fine. I can play too.
I move closer, muscles tightening beneath my shirt. “I liked fucking you,” I growl, reaching for her face. She doesn’t flinch. Her hand starts to move, slow, careful, toward the weapon.
The moment her fingers brush the holster, I twist her wrist and spin her against me. She’s light; the air leaves her lungs when I press her to the table by the window.
“Going for my gun?” My mouth is beside her ear. “You don’t learn, sweetheart.”
She kicks back, breathless. “You’re insane!”
“Maybe,” I say, tightening my grip, “but you’re the one who bled in the dark and ran so I wouldn’t find out.”
Goosebumps rise along her neck. I catch the shiver before I release her and haul her over my shoulder.
“Behave,” I warn, climbing the stairs while she squirms, “or I’ll teach you how to.”
She fights the whole way, fists pounding against my back, but I don’t falter. I’ve carried heavier men through worse nights.
I drop her onto the mattress. Her hair spills across the pillow; she glares up at me, wild and beautiful. “You’ll stay here until Declan arrives tomorrow.”
“Declan? He knows you kidnapped me?” She gasps.
“And Viviana too,” I answer, closing the door before she can argue.
Her fists hit the wood. “Who the hell are you people? Flynn! You idiot!”
Kaden appears in the hallway, amused. “She’s furious.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, a reluctant smile tugging at my mouth, “and feral.”
Kaden snorts. “You’re fucked, mate.”
“I know.”