Chapter Twenty-Six #2
I bang my fists against the door. “Let me out. I’m not who you think I am. I’m just trying to pay off my father’s debt. Please.”
My pleas are met with more silence, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I bang harder. “What did you do with my father and Noah? You can’t do anything to them. They’re not a part of this.”
The words sound false even to me.
The second my father signed that contract, a chain of events was set in motion, and the minute I made a deal with Mason, I made sure there was no going back.
I’m the reason we’re in this mess.
Panic and fear claw their way inside me as I yell myself hoarse. Over and over, I bang on the door until pain races up and down my arm.
I refuse to stop fighting and let them think they’ve broken me.
I have much more at stake than they realize, and keeping me in a spacious room with only my thoughts for company won’t be what wears me down.
Finally, I bury my face in my hands and slide down against the door. Then, I draw my knees to my chest and link my trembling fingers. My mind races as I piece together the past few hours, searching for anything to make sense of how I wound up here.
This can’t be about Mason.
Wake up, London. What else could this be about? You’re nothing special, and you know it.
They’re going to be pissed when they find out this was all for nothing.
But, I do know I mean enough to Mason. He’s come to my rescue before, and it seems whoever’s taken me are willing to go through this trouble and risk his wrath. They know he cares, even if just a little.
It can’t all have been in my head.
I have no idea how long I sit there, wishing I could go back in time and keep myself from signing the contract.
I hear the lock click and the door creak open. I jump to my feet and ignore the skittering in my chest.
Nothing happens.
I spread my legs shoulder-width apart and hold my arms in front of my face. “Let me go.”
I hope my voice doesn’t sound as uncertain as I feel because I have a feeling these people prey on weakness.
Suddenly, a petite redhead steps into the room, carrying a tray with antiseptic spray, cotton, and gauze.
Wordlessly, she kicks the door shut behind her and sets the tray on the table behind the door.
I’m able to make out dark brown eyes set against a round face, a pair of jeans, and a shirt.
She doesn’t meet my gaze as she rearranges the items on the tray with a loud, clattering sound.
I drop my hands and clear my throat. “Who are you?”
She picks up the cotton and sprays it. When she turns to face me, I realize her dark eyes are emotionless.
She’s as much a prisoner as I am.
I let her take my hand and clean the raw knuckles. “Please. I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t know what’s happening.”
She lowers her head, finishing one hand and reaching for the other.
I don’t realize I’m crying until she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pack of tissues.
“I don’t know what you did to end up here, but I’d suggest you do what they tell you,” she whispers. “Don’t try to force your way out, or it’ll make things worse.”
I take her hands in mine, and she squirms. “Please help me. My dad and my… Noah, were they taken, too? They were bound and gagged.”
Please let them be okay. God, please. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to them.
She gulps and pries her fingers away. “I don’t know anything about other prisoners.”
“Can you find out?”
They’re not dead, they can’t be.
I refuse to entertain even the idea of it.
I cling to that fragile hope with everything in me, praying I live long enough to find out the truth. “Please. I can tell you don’t want to be here, either. I don’t know what they have over you, but I can help you. We can help each other.”
“No one can help me.”
“Please. You can’t just leave me here.”
The redhead shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”
Ignoring the rest of my protests, she picks up the tray and raps on the door. It opens, and she hurries out, pausing to give me a sympathetic look.
I bury my face in my hands and sink back to my knees.
I have no idea how long I sit there, raking my fingers through my hair as my mind races.
Sometime later, I hear muffled voices outside my door, and my heart jumps in my throat.
On shaky legs, I force myself to my feet and press my ear to the door. My throat is dry, and I feel unsteady, but I’m determined to get to the bottom of this.
You can get yourself out of this mess, London. All you have to do is ignore the fear and think.
I’m about to move away from the door when I hear feet shuffling. Then I hear their voices again, deep and full of amusement.
“Can you believe he let down his guard for her?”
“No fucking way. I still think she’s just his newest conquest. A man like Mason Payne doesn’t just shack up with a woman.”
“She’s smoking hot, though. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed in the morning.”
They laugh, and it sends a chill racing up my spine.
Are they talking about me?
“Think they’ll let us have a little fun with her before they start questioning her?”
“Probably not. I heard they have all sorts of plans for her. They’ve already gotten in touch with Mason to make their demands.”
I stumble away from the door, nauseous.
I barely make it to the bathroom before I fall against the toilet.
My eyes are burning, and my throat feels raw as I claw at it.
I don’t know why I’ve been trying to convince myself it has nothing to do with Mason, and that I can escape. Wondering about the man behind Mason’s mask has only invited misery and heartache into my life.
When I reach for the packet of tissues the redhead left me, I’m surprised to find myself crying again. Heaving, I push myself to my feet and lean against the sink. Then I switch on the faucet and splash water on my face. I shiver, reach for a towel, and pat my face dry.
Of course, this is about Mason.
I knew that as soon as I saw my dad and Noah blindfolded.
I still have no idea why kidnapping me is a good idea. I’m just another notch in Mason Payne’s belt. He won’t negotiate with them for someone like me. If anything, I’ll be left to the wolves, made an example of in case anyone dares to mess with Mason.
You just need to find a way to make them see that. They’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get you here.
I’m not under any delusions as to how this is going to go.
The longer they leave me to the mercy of my thoughts, the easier I’ll be to break.
Why couldn’t I leave it alone?
Why couldn’t I leave him alone?
Because, like some kind of infatuated idiot, you thought you could fix him. Don’t kid yourself, London. You’re on your own. Whatever connection you think the two of you have, Mason won’t be threatened into submission for you or anyone else.
Whatever happens next, it’s up to me to figure out how to make it out of this alive.
When I snap awake sometime later, I realize I’m curled up on a corner of the bed.
I also see a bright white light near the main door, and two men with identical buzz cuts are standing over me.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and scoot to the edge of the bed, fear snaking its way around my chest.
“I expected more from the whore Mason took into his house.”
My mouth is bone dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re not…”
He holds up his hand, and I trail off. “Don’t deny it; we’ve been watching for a while. We know he’s developed a… fondness for you.”
I glance between the men as they step forward and take in their bulging muscles and similar forearm tattoos. “Whatever you think you’re going to get out of him, it won’t work. He’s not going to negotiate.”
The men exchange a look and laugh.
“If I were you, I’d shut my mouth and listen if you want to get out of here alive.”
I clear my throat. “What about my dad and Noah? What did you do to them?”
The man raises an eyebrow. “That’s not your concern.”
I make myself take a step forward and ignore the tremor racing through me. “I won’t tell you anything unless you tell me.”
“Whores don’t get to make demands.”
I press my lips into a thin white line. “Maybe, but this whore is the key to Mason Payne.”
The men exchange a look, and I wonder if I’ve overplayed my hand.
I’m only useful if they think I am, but once they find out I’m playing them…
Don’t budge, and don’t give anything away. If they don’t know by now, that means Mason is playing along. But saving me from over-eager patrons at the club is one thing, risking the Empire he’s built is another…
Still, even as I stand there wondering if Mason will come just to teach them a lesson, I realize I don’t want him to.
God help me, but I don’t want him anywhere near these men; men who are going to kill him as soon as they lay eyes on him.
Mason can’t get hurt because of me. I won’t let him.
Not if I can help it.
Letting them think I’m willing to cooperate is the only card I have while I wait to see if Mason will get to me in time, but I’m willing to bet I have their attention.
Please, let it be enough.
The man I’ve been talking to raises a hand, and I resist the urge to flinch. He reaches into his pocket, takes out a phone, speaks into it, and snaps it shut.
What are you going to do, London? What now?
“Your dad and boyfriend gave you up,” he tells me. “You in exchange for money. You must’ve pissed them off for them to sell you out like that.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe you.”
No matter our issues, neither of them would do that.
Not for all the money in the world.
Not even Noah? Considering the way you left things, maybe he felt he was owed something for his troubles.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, shame courses through me, and I shove it away.
Whatever mind game this is, they won’t get to me.
I refuse to believe that sweet, kind Noah would sell me out to these thugs.
It’s not the man I know and love.
You might not know if Noah has betrayed you, but you know your dad. No matter the disagreements you’ve had, he’s always had your back.
Unless Noah went back on his word and said something he shouldn’t have, prompting my dad to put two and two together.
Have he and Noah decided I wasn’t worth the trouble?
Has my dad gone along with whatever plan Noah came up with?
How had they reached Mason’s enemies?
Anger can make a person do crazy things. Maybe your dad knew how to reach out to them, or maybe they took a risk.
I won’t get the answers I want from these men without offering them something else. Something I don’t have.
The dark-haired man shrugs and moves toward me, and I stand still, drawing on whatever vestiges of courage I have left. “I don’t give a shit, blondie. But if I were you, I’d get comfortable. You’re going to be here a while.”
I want to ask how long, and what they plan to do to me. But I don’t trust that my voice won’t quiver, or that he’ll tell me the truth.
I keep my head held high and hold his gaze. “I’m not afraid of you.”
I’m hoping he can’t hear the uncertainty or fear in my voice because I need it to be true.
Then, the two of them burst out laughing, and it sends another chill through me.
“I can see why he keeps you around. You’re not just a pretty face, but I’d keep that fucking mouth of yours shut before I find other uses for it.”
Let it go, London. They haven’t touched you, so you should be grateful all they’re doing is making threats. It’s better than the alternative.
I don’t know which higher power I’m praying to when they leave.
All I know is that I stay awake late into the night, imagining Mason’s face when he finally gets to me.