2. Margot
two
Margot
Dealing with my sister's heartbroken breakdown was supposed to be the main event of my night. Instead, I'm staring at a man who has no reason to be standing in our private space.
She thinks Brandon has been replaced by this man? There's no way. I can feel it in my gut.
This man is dangerous. There's something in his eyes as he stares at me, the way his jaw grits like he's already mad at the world. I can't place what it is, but it makes me feel more like an obstacle in his way.
Standing up, I turn toward him to feel Madalyn's teary-eyed gaze on my back. Facing this stranger directly isn't a good idea, especially when I have nothing to defend myself with.
"You shouldn't be in here." Thankfully, my voice doesn't waver as I meet the heavy weight of his gaze head-on.
The man, made up of tan skin and agitation, buries his fingers through his thick black hair. Deep brown eyes track my movement... I find myself tracking them right back, cataloging the absurdly long sweep of his lashes and the sharp, clean angle of his jaw.
He looks like the kind of man who would share drinks with my father—except this guy is massive, his heavy limbs filling out his clothes so tightly it makes my throat go dry. Talk about a force to be reckoned with.
When the corner of his mouth twitches, a sudden, ridiculous wave of heat flushes all the way up my neck, scorching my cheeks as he misunderstands my interest.
Gritting my teeth, I try to force myself to feel furious, to feel threatened—but my skin is absolutely burning under his gaze.
I tell myself I’m assessing the threat, looking for a weakness, but there’s a bizarre, dizzying pull in my chest that feels less like self-defense and more like a curiosity that doesn't belong there in the first place.
Focus, Margot. Protect your sister.
"You two are coming with me," the man explains, making his intent clear as day. "Preferably quietly."
Behind me, Madalyn lets out another soft gasp. Have her thoughts cleared up enough for her to realize the weight of this situation?
He's after her. Of course he is. Madalyn has had a target on her back ever since we were kids. It's why she's always had a bodyguard posted to her side for years. This guy picks the one day she's alone to attack. He's smart. Maybe he has more brains than muscle.
That, or he's got incredible luck on his side.
Before I can tell him to get lost or consider screaming to get someone's attention, there's movement behind me.
Madalyn stands up, her breathing hitching. "Let's go."
Wait, what?
"No." The word leaves me in a rush, my fingers locking around her wrist. "Madalyn, look at him. Think for a second."
She doesn't free herself right away. Instead, she looks past me, staring straight at the stranger with a grimace. Unlike me, she doesn't let her eyes linger.
"Let him take me," she whispers, her voice swelling with her feelings but completely steady. "Let's see how Dad likes his perfect little world when his prized possession goes missing since he fired the one man who could keep me safe."
Now is not the time for this. Not while having an audience. She can not be reckless right now to get a point across.
"He could kill you!" I hiss, tightening my grip.
Madalyn finally snatches her arm back, wiping a fresh tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her face sobers up, hardening over the rush of emotions she'd released for the last two hours.
"Good. Then Dad can spend the rest of his life remembering that this happened because of his greed." She turns away from me and takes a few steps toward the stranger. She may as well be signing her death certificate with confidence at this rate.
I follow. Of course I do. Even if Madalyn is acting out against our father, actively ignoring the dangers, she's still my sister.
The only person in my world to acknowledge I exist. We're a pair. She's got the looks, and I've got the smarts.
Meaning, I'm going to have to use my head not to get us killed because she's in the mood to explore the world outside of the one we've ever known.
There's a hint of relief in his gaze when seeing both of us are following along...willingly.
This is bad.
While our father was spending so much time trying to make Madalyn perfect, couldn't he at least have thrown me into some kind of defense-learning class? After everything we'd gone through, we could've learned something to help us out in a moment like this.
Now I'm thinking like my sister, wanting to blame him entirely for this.
"Who are you?" Repeating my question, making it obvious that it doesn't matter, my feet catch on the carpet when I stop in front of him.
Even with Madalyn in heels, he towers over both of us. He is easily the largest man I’ve ever seen, built with a devastating, granite-edged symmetry that makes it entirely impossible to look away.
He's terrifying, yes, but he's also the most striking man I've ever stood next to. Even if his competition is slim, there's no doubt he'd hold over the first-place position.
My throat goes dry as he steps closer, the sheer heat radiating off his massive frame making my skin prickle in all the wrong ways.
"Until I get you where I need you to be, the less you know, the better for me.
" Avoiding my question entirely, his eyes drag away from my face to look at my sister.
"If either of you tries anything, I'll be forced to kill anyone who stands in my way.
Their blood will be on your hands. This is my only warning. "
How kind of him to want to avoid violence if possible. Yeah, right.
She lets out a scoff, grumbling about how Brandon could take him on.
His eyes flick back to me, weighing me down with eyes the shade of dark chocolate. "Understand?"
He sees me as a threat. Why else would he be taking me so willingly? I'm a witness, sure, but if he's so willing to take a life, he could do so to me.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He mumbles something to the side, to whoever was listening to him earlier. No surprise this guy isn't alone, but now I can't help but wonder how big this kidnapping plan is.
Will his buddies be happy to see me included? Once they find out I mean nothing compared to my sister, they won't want to deal with the extra weight.
He ends up silently guiding us out, keeping an eye out. Carefully moving, he throws a glance over his shoulder at us constantly to make sure we're following.
Madalyn is stubbornly marching right alongside him. He's not worried about her. The way his eyes constantly track my movements tells me his only anxiety is that I'll bolt.
If I were to, would he risk leaving my sister behind to grab me? Probably not.
Ditching them both would only give our father something else to blame me for. No thanks.
While I'm thinking about what could happen, he leads us to my bedroom. Before I can complain, he's ordering us through the window.
First for Madalyn, then me. When I hesitate, the heavy warmth of his palm fans across my lower back, creating a wave of pure friction that makes my breath catch.
"Move." The command is meant to be a growl, but it rasps low and thick, catching in his throat like the words are suddenly too heavy to force out. Could he be getting nervous?
"I can't fit through that window," I say, my breath hitching as I huff the words out.
"If I can, you can." He nudges me, but when I stubbornly refuse to budge, he lets out a frustrated sound that vibrates right through the small space between us.
Before I can even register the movement, he steps entirely into my personal space. A startled gasp escapes me as his hands lock around my waist. He lifts me clear off the floor like I weigh absolutely nothing.
My heart misbehaves, skipping erratically against my ribs, but there’s no time to parse out why his sudden touch makes my skin burn.
He practically shoves me through the opening. Hardly understanding what's happening, my hands scramble for purchase against the exterior frame before my body hits the cool grass below, my brain desperately struggling to catch up with the rush of adrenaline.
Madalyn's the one to curse him before helping me up, dusting off any blades of grass. Making sure I'm okay, she squeezes my hand.
He follows a second later, landing with a muted thud and immediately shutting the window behind him. "Is the distraction ready?"
Realizing he's not talking to us, I watch him look to the side before he sighs and curses his agitation in a whisper. I watch him pull something out of his ear and shove it into his pocket.
"Let's go." Jerking his chin at us, he guides us toward the sounds of life. Once we're close enough, he grabs my wrist like a man-made shackle. "When I move, you two move. Got it?"
Wait, he's bringing us to where everyone is? Is this guy crazy?
Fear swells inside my stomach at the notion of being seen by others. If there's one rule I've had to follow, it's that I'm never allowed to be seen except by the men paid to keep their silence.
Plus, if he's set on bringing Madalyn, shouldn't he be grabbing her wrist instead of trusting that she won't abandon this body-link chain thing we have going on?
Madalyn squeezes my fingers hard like she's thinking the very same thing.
Just as we can reach the edge of our home, there's suddenly a high-pitched screech before a loud pop. Before my mind can even register the first noise, a succession of booming cracks follows, rattling right through the soles of my shoes.
"Margot," Madalyn breathlessly whispers next to me, "look."
Tilting my head up, I watch the vibrant colors of fireworks paint the sky. They start slow, brilliant streaks of crimson and gold reaching out as far as they can, simmering away into nothing in the dark.
Something as simple as pyrotechnics shouldn't catch my attention completely, but it’s a view I haven't been allowed to see in years. For a handful of seconds, the danger, the kidnapping, and our father's suffocating world vanish.
It’s beautiful beyond words. It’s a freedom I’ve silently yearned for.
The house lights around us cut off entirely, plunging the lawn into deep shadow just as the finale kicks in, the sky exploding with double the intensity. The air becomes so loud, I can hardly hear my own thoughts.
"We need to move," he mutters. Except, he doesn't move. Not right away.
When I turn my head to look at him, the strobe-like glare of the overhead explosions catches him completely off guard.
He isn't looking at the sky. He’s frozen, his eyes locked onto my face with a heavy, unblinking intensity, tracking the flashing colors across my skin as if he’s never seen anything like it.
Oh. This isn’t good. I've never met a man who looks at me the way he currently is.
When he catches himself, his jaw tightens. The cynical mask snaps right back into place, and he tugs on my wrist, forcing me to remember how to use my feet.
I tell myself my racing pulse is just from the booming display above us, but as his grip tightens fractionally on my skin, I know I'm lying to myself.
This man really is dangerous, but in all the wrong ways.
He pulls us along where the shadows linger. My feet move, but my eyes remain lingering on the display.
Will our father be panicking at the fireworks, or will he take credit for knowing all about it to save face?
The question sours the view, and I focus more on where we're being led. Already knowing there is a gate surrounding us, I imagine this man throwing us over easily, just as he had earlier with the window. Thinking about his strength has heat forming at the collar of my shirt.
He doesn't have to throw us over. When we reach the iron gate, he releases me long enough to grip two of the metal pegs.
"Oh, wow." Madalyn, unhelpful, is amazed as he snaps the metal, opening a gap. "Do you have super strength?"
He tosses them to the side. "Hardly. Just enough brains to make some unnoticeable cuts before coming."
He's not being truthful. He is strong; I felt it when he'd easily picked me up. But now, he's made it obvious that he's smart, too. And he's attractive?
This man is a force to be reckoned with. Must be quite a threat in our father's eyes for him to be taking advantage of such a perfect night.
He continues to move like time is against him. Leading us through the grass, we make it toward a set of houses lit by streetlights.
Once he starts to slow, I spot the two vans parked next to each other. One door slides open.
"Holy shit, you did it." A man with pale features and sunglasses grins. He then turns his head towards us, and he pauses. "Woah. Dante, you greedy boy. Talk about a double—"
Our captor growls and slams the door shut on him before he can finish his sentence. He moves toward the other van and opens the door. Looking at us, he appears more agitated than before, but I can't miss the hint of red on his skin against the van's glow. "Get in."
We do, and that's when I spot the biker crowded in the back. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. He's huge, and that's acknowledging the size of the man impatiently waiting for us to settle.
The man, whom I can now assume is Dante, gets in and sits across from us. I can't ignore the way his knee almost brushes mine as we crowd inside. He frowns at the driver, another biker in a leather jacket. "Take us to the warehouse."
"I thought we were going—"
"Crow. Warehouse." He pinches his brow, frustrated in a way I can't understand.
At the sound of the van rumbling to life, the reality of our situation hits me.
We've really been kidnapped. Is that what I want to call it? Willingly getting in a van with strangers... with a man who has a staring problem aimed directly at me.
We must've lost our minds.