Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
EMERSON
The waves crashed on the shore below as I stood on the deck.
Ava was under my skin in a way I didn’t like.
I didn’t know why I had wanted her to eat with me, but curiosity drove me to it.
Her refusal had fired me up, but I hadn’t expected my reaction when she had peered up at me with those big chestnut eyes, pink strands of hair falling over her cheeks with the blonde ones.
A pink gem sparkled in the side of her nose that I hadn’t noticed the prior night.
She was adorable, and I hated the thought.
But every time she opened her mouth, it was like a wildcat lived inside the cute exterior. The things she said with no hesitation and no fear. Everyone feared me, but if she did, she didn’t let it show. Wildcat, that was the perfect name for her.
I rubbed my cheek and took my phone out, hitting the number I had hesitated to call. This plan had gone terribly wrong and now I had to pray my brother cared enough to come after Ava. If not, I would have to kill her and start over.
I’d ignored my brother’s calls, enjoying the power in making him wait, knowing it would drive him mad. But it was time to make my next move.
Greyson picked up on the first ring.
“Emerson.” The prick always used that name, never the one I had gone by since the day I’d walked out of his life.
The day he’d stolen my girl from me and laughed when I’d walked in on them.
Grabbing her head and fucking her mouth harder, like he was showing me his prize.
It had been over two decades and I’d realized with time that she was just another fling, another woman in my bed, but the betrayal had left my pride wounded.
I had loved her, and he had wanted to prove some stupid point, that she would turn on me in a heartbeat. Which she did with his coercion.
“Greyson,” I returned, my voice flat.
“You have something of mine, and I want it back.”
“Does your new wife know this one is yours, too? Does she share you with her?” The idea had my blood heating, a reaction I didn’t understand.
“Fuck off. I’m not sleeping with her, asshole.”
A bit of tension fled, and I pinched the bridge of my nose to bring it back. I didn’t give a shit who Ava was sleeping with. She’d already admitted she’d been on the plane to screw the guy she was with. Why did I care if my brother was sleeping with her?
“Then she’s of no value to you?”
“You know she is, or you wouldn’t have taken her.”
I wouldn’t have taken her if my shithead men hadn’t fucked up my orders.
“What do you want, Emerson?”
Rolling my neck, I said, “You.”
The silence on the other end lingered. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I want you in Seagate so we can work out an agreement.”
“An agreement on what? You stole my wife’s friend—”
“And your henchman’s niece.”
He grumbled before he said, “There is no agreement here. Either fly her home alive and unharmed or I will bring my full force down on you.”
Which was exactly what I didn’t want. I was weak, my empire vulnerable, something he didn’t know because all indications pointed to me stirring trouble in his province and in Armina.
“A simple negotiation, Greyson.”
“Don’t pull that shit on me. I tried to negotiate years ago, but you were too stubborn to listen.”
“You mean when Tina’s mouth was around your cock?”
“Fuck you. That was twenty-five years ago. You should have let it go, but instead you decided that some bitch who spread her legs for everyone we knew, including me, was worth turning your back on family.”
“Family doesn’t fuck his brother’s girl.”
A heavy sigh followed by, “There’s no talking to you, Emerson. You’re blinded just like you’ve always been. And it’s too late now. Your hands are too dirty, your deeds too warped for me to ever consider reconciling with you.”
My hand clenched the deck rail, splinters piercing my skin.
“Send Ava back and stay in your province. Otherwise, I’m coming to get you. I have a score to settle with you for what your man did to my wife. Oh, and I’m sure Brinks will be more than happy to come along with Raines.”
“You would bring those children to fight your war, Grey? Is that how weak you’ve become?” My rage was blinding me, my words not thought through, but they were out before I could stop them.
“Send her back—”
“The only way I’m sending her back is in pieces. You have two weeks to make your decision. In that time, I’ll keep her alive and unharmed and you will keep your men and Brinks out of my territory. Two weeks and when I call again, you’d better have the right answer or she’s dead.”
I disconnected and slammed the phone against the rail. Two weeks? There was no explanation as to why I had given him that deadline. It was too long. Enough time for him to bring an army to my door or enough time for me to fall for the pesky woman who was currently my hostage.
The scotch soothed my mood, and I took another gulp, resting my head back in my chair.
Waves crashed against the surf, the moon streaming between clouds to cast long shadows over the sand.
This was my favorite place to come when I needed to think.
My deck perched high over the cliff with nothing to block the view.
Woods surrounded the eastern side of the house, a long stretch of manicured grass on the front and western side. But the backside was all shoreline.
A scream broke the silence, high pitched and desperate. It clawed into my chest and severed my ability to breathe. My glass crashed onto the wooden deck as I ran into the house, following the trail of screams. Over and over, they pierced my ears, rising the closer I came to Ava’s room.
The door was open, and I drew my gun, finding Pack staring at the bed. Ava was thrashing, the covers tangled around her body, her hands scratching at the air like they were digging for something.
“I found her like this. She’s having some kind of nightmare,” he said, frowning.
“Well, wake her up.”
Another scream, this one so guttural it ripped through me. I moved toward the bed, but Pack stopped me.
“It’s not good to wake somebody from a nightmare.”
Jerking my arm away, I looked back at her.
“Go, I’ve got this.” I tucked my gun in my pants as more screams poured from her. They were getting more desperate, her voice cracking from the strain on her throat.
Pack left, and I heard him pushing my other men from the room before the door closed.
If I couldn’t wake her, I didn’t know what to do.
She looked so fragile, so wounded, her face contorted with terror and pain.
I had killed, taken body parts, bloodied faces, tortured enough to recognize it.
Most times, it fed me, but not this time. I wanted to wipe it from her.
On instinct, I crawled into the other side of the bed and wrapped my arm around her, drawing her flailing body into mine.
This was not something I did, comforting a hostage, comforting anyone.
I didn’t make connections or hold women for any more than necessary.
I was cold and brutal, taking what I wanted and reciprocating pleasure only when I was in the mood, but something about holding Ava seemed natural.
A broken whimper caused a twinge in my chest. I brushed her hair from her face and murmured, “Shhh. You’re safe.” A complete lie, but one that came out with surety.
She continued to thrash for a few more minutes until her body calmed and she fell further against me.
I pulled her closer, spooning her and hating how nice it felt.
The floral scent of her shampoo greeted me, and I buried my face in her hair, breathing it in.
Another whimper, quiet and sad, came from her and no matter how I wanted to remove myself from her bed and the situation, I didn’t want her to suffer anymore.
Suffer? When had I gone soft and worried that a prisoner was suffering?
Anger surfaced, a need for self-preservation taking over until her hand covered mine and pulled it toward her face.
Positioned between her breasts, I couldn’t help but notice the weight of them, the softness and how unbound they were.
Shit, she still wasn’t wearing a bra. I’d realized it when she was at breakfast, her nipples pressing against the fabric of her gray T-shirt with the outline of her nipple rings prominent.
Her brazen attitude had threatened to make me hard, but that sight had done the job.
She was everything I’d never considered in a woman but was now craving.
The thought had my pants growing uncomfortably tight, and I tried pulling my hand away, only to have her stop it.
She was not letting me go. I was certain she had no idea who was holding her, or she would have been slathering me in snarky comments and kicking me out—like she held the power in any of this.
Giving up my fight to leave, I scooted up so my body completely eclipsed her frame and rested my head on the pillow.
Sleep never came easily to me. My mind was overactive, my worries incessant.
But something about holding Ava silenced the voices and let sleep in.
Something I didn’t realize until a smart-assed voice broke my peace with, “Is this how you get your thrills? Sneaking into women’s beds and feeling them up, Emerson? ”
She really needed to stop using my real name. Only my brother did that, and it pissed me off more every time he did. But I let it go, finding something cute about the way she said it. Cute?
I blinked my eyes open, suddenly aware that I was palming her breast and not disliking the fact that her nipple was completely taut below it.
“I don’t have to sneak into women’s beds,” I groused, removing my hand even though I’d really wanted to tug on that nipple ring and hear what sounds it evoked.
“No? You just force them into yours?”
“Fuck you,” I grumbled, rolling onto my back and trying to get my bearings.
She turned toward me, something I hadn’t expected, and I squinted at her. She looked even more adorable when she woke up. Her hair was tussled, her eyes a lush chestnut, a fresh flush on her cheeks. I wiped my hand over my face, questioning how I’d lost my mind in the last twenty-four hours.
“Why are you in my bed, Emerson?”
This woman had no fear other than what she experienced in her dreams. She was bold and sassy. Fearless or pretending to be. What had happened to her to cause a nightmare that vivid and terrifying? An instinct to kill whoever had left that damage surged, and I shoved it away.
“It’s Cade, and it’s my bed, not yours.”
Her brow quirked, and I noticed a divot where a piercing should have been.
Was there anywhere on her body that wasn’t pierced?
The possible answer to that question had me throbbing.
Ava Shelton was a woman unlike any who ran in my circles, and the urge to flip her over and discover every tattoo and piercing fought for dominance.
“It’s my bed while you have me imprisoned and I like Emerson. You don’t look like a Cade.” She smirked and tiptoed her hand up my chest before I grabbed it and pushed it away. “Now tell me why you’re in my bed.”
“Only if you tell me why you think it’s smart to flirt with your captor.” Because that’s what I was. A man who would kill her if my brother didn’t come through. A tug of doubt had me suddenly questioning my plans.
“I’m not flirting,” she said, laughing. “This is how I always am. In your face and loud. If you don’t like it, then send me home.”
“Good try, but I’m not sending you anywhere.” And why had I not gotten out of the bed? Damn it, this was bad. I sat up and ran my hand through my hair, sensing her eyes on me. “I’m in your bed because you were having nightmares.”
A startled intake of air had me looking over at her. She scrambled from the bed and, for the first time since she’d come into my life with her attitude and brash remarks, she looked scared. Hand rubbing her neck, she said, “I did?” Her voice was meek, and I tipped my head at the difference.
“Yes, a violent one.”
“Shit. You need to send me home. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with me, but I ignored the plea, rising from the bed and smoothing out my pants.
“No.” Gathering my senses and remembering who I was and why she was here, I turned my back on her and walked toward the door.
“Please, Emerson.”
That plea seared me, and I squeezed the door handle. “No.”
I opened the door, but her words stopped me. “Did you hold me all night to soothe my nightmares?”
Teeth gritting, I glanced back at her. I couldn’t afford to get attached to her.
No matter that after this brief time, I could already sense it happening.
“I only did it to stop the incessant screaming. The screaming stays in the basement. If you keep it up, I’ll lock you down there where I keep my enemies until they can’t endure my torture and die. ”
I ripped the door open and stomped out of the room, waves of crimson blinding me.
This was who I was, the cruel bastard who everyone feared.
Not some nice guy who held terrified women through the night to chase away their nightmares.
Not some weak man who fell for women in a day or cared if his hostage was comfortable.
Heading to my room, I convinced myself that this had been a moment of weakness. That I would avoid her for the next two weeks. But by the time I had pounded my aggression out in my gym, she was back on my mind where she stayed until I knew there was no avoiding her.