Chapter 37
Isat up with a start, sucking in a sharp breath that burned my lungs.
My eyes adjusted to the bright, burning construction light on a stand in the corner. It faced the army green colored wall, shining a strange glare that half-blinded me when I tried to survey that part of the room. I was seated on a low metal bed frame, a thin threadbare mattress beneath me.
Where the fuck am I? And how the fuck did I get here?
My heart rate kicked up several notches as the memories came back to me. Running out of the hotel, freaking out about Pres, and Sin, and Dacre. Turning back to make things right and running into… Algor.
I pushed off the bed to try to find a way out of here, but a chain clanked against the metal bed frame, stopping me.
What the hell…?
I stared down at the thick metal cuff on my right wrist. There was a solid lock on one side and a hinge on the other.
It was suddenly hard to breathe. Panic hit me like a tidal wave crashing against the shore.
I had to get out of here.
This was extreme, even for my father. Yes, I was valuable to him, but valuable enough to abduct me? Hold me hostage chained to a bed in a foreign country?
Clearly my father’s business dealings had escalated since my mother and I had left. Or his mental state had deteriorated to the point he thought it was normal to abduct his own daughter and hold her captive.
I sucked in a breath and screamed. “Help!”
I screamed the word over and over until my mouth dried up and my throat ached, but I refused to give up. If my father was willing to do this to me, there was no telling what fate was waiting for me on the other side of it. If it was anything like the life he’d been trying to force on me before I’d left with my mother, I was in trouble.
So I screamed for what felt like an hour before I heard the sound of the door being unlocked on the other side of the room, behind where the light shone obscuring my view.
“Will you shut the fuck up?”
A man I didn’t recognize stepped around the light, glaring down on me with the venom of a viper.
“No one can fucking hear you. No one is coming to save your ass. So shut the fuck up already.”
I blinked up at him, smart enough to keep my mouth shut. It was a safe bet this goon worked for my father, and my father’s men weren’t known for their self-control.
“What? Nothing to say now that you have my attention?” the man barked, staring down at me.
I stared up at him. “I thought you wanted me to shut the fuck up?”
He huffed a humorless laugh, staring off at the wall like he was thinking.
I should have seen it coming. I’d mouthed off to him and no man who worked for my father would ever tolerate that.
He cracked me across the face with the back of his hand, my head whipping to the left. Fire burned across my right cheek and my eyes smarted with tears I tried to hold back.
But it lit something inside me. A fire—an anger and a strength that burned deep inside me.
I lunged to my feet, gripping a section of the chain at my wrist in both hands and flinging it around his neck. We hit the ground in a mess of limbs, me on top of him. He struggled, but my grip held firm as I crossed the chain and pulled it tight, cutting off his air supply.
He clawed at my hands, but I didn’t break. This might be the only shot I’d have to get the hell out of this place. When that didn’t work, he got a hand under my chin and tried to push me backwards, but I still didn’t loosen my hold on the chains at his throat.
The door burst open and Algor was in the room in a heartbeat, coming around behind me and wrapping his thick arm around my throat, squeezing tight until he choked my airway.
“Let him go, little firebird,” Algor murmured in my ear. “You kill him, and I’ll have to hurt you.”
I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to see the light snuff out in this guy’s eyes and the thought should have scared me. All I could think was that, if our roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill me.
But my lungs seized from the lack of oxygen, and I reluctantly released the chain.
Algor adjusted his arm at my throat enough that I could suck in a desperate breath, but he didn’t move away. He kept me in a headlock and pulled me off his friend, forcing me to my feet. He shoved me towards the bed, and I fell back onto it, then he leaned down and helped the other guy to his feet.
“You crazy bitch,” the guy croaked, his voice hoarse and his throat already bruising.
“She was raised by the boss,” Algor snarled, shoving him towards the door. “You think she was going to be a little weakling who’d sit in here and cry? I warned you to stay the hell away from her.”
The man snarled in my direction as Algor herded him out. He slammed the door and turned to me.
“You’ve got one more night in here until we board a plane and you’re back where your father wants you.”
I sucked in a breath at his words. At the confirmation that I was going back to everything I’d been running from.
“But if you pull something like that again,” Algor said, his voice dark and low. “I’ll break your legs, are we clear?”
I nodded, too afraid to utter a word.
I knew Algor’s reputation all too well. I’d seen what he was willing to do to someone who dared to cross my father.
There was nothing empty about his threat.
I’d been awake most of the night, having spent hours trying to slip my hand free from the cuff. When all I achieved was bruising the bones in the base of my hand and splitting my skin open, I’d moved on to trying to tug the damn chain out of the wall.
Eventually I’d fallen asleep on the floor, waking some time later with a start, my mind not being able to compute where I was.
When I’d remembered, I’d crawled up onto the threadbare metal cot and forced myself back to sleep. I’d need rest if I was going to survive my return to my father.
The next time I woke, it was to the sound of the door being unlocked. Algor stepped into the room. He moved for the bed, handing me an apple and some bottled water.
“Where is my friend?” I asked, accepting what he was offering.
His gaze was stern when it locked with mine. “Being kept far away from you in order to save your life.”
I grunted, taking a bite of the apple. The sour sweetness burst across my tongue and my stomach growled with the anticipation of my swallow. I downed the apple in six bites, followed by half the water.
Algor discarded the remnants on the floor, then pulled thick black zip ties from his back pocket. “Hold your fists together.”
I obeyed, knowing if I did there was a chance he’d remove the metal cuff. I had a better chance of escaping if I wasn’t chained to the damn wall. And after my efforts last night, I knew there was no way I was getting out of it without the key.
Algor tightened the zip ties around my wrists like handcuffs, then pulled out a black hood. “This is going over your head. No reason for you to see where we are or where we’re going.”
He moved to put it over my head, and I pulled away. His eyes twitched at the corners.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Dempsey. Because I will and you know it.”
I swallowed, nodding, and when he moved to place the hood over my head again. I didn’t pull away. Everything was instantly dark, the material of the hood not the slightest bit transparent. The harsh noise of a strip of duct tape being ripped from the roll filled the room, and Algor wrapped it around my throat several times, securing the hood like a collar.
Only then, when I was cuffed and blind, did Algor remove the metal cuff from my wrist.
He took me by the arm, hauling me to my feet, and my dress swished across the floor as we walked. The door gave the smallest creak as it opened, then we moved left down a hallway. We made several more turns before I felt the breeze kiss my skin, the bite of the cool air on my exposed arms.
Outside.
If only I knew what the hell I was up against.
Algor hadn’t let go of me yet, but the moment he did, I had hoped to make a run for it. I could deal with my cuffed hands; my legs weren’t restrained. But if I couldn’t see where I was going or how many of my father’s men were here, it was pointless to try.
Algor shuffled me along at his side, the sound of several car doors opening and closing filling the air. Then his hand pressed against the back of my head, guiding me downwards.
“Get in the car,” he said, shoving me inside.
I fell across the backseat, sliding to the other side, my hands blindly searching for the door handle. Instead they were met with a hard body and soft clothing.
“She trying to feel me up?” came a low voice, almost amused.
Al gripped my arm, tugging me upright, then sliding into the seat beside me and slamming the car door. “Keep your hands to yourself or I won’t make sure these men keep theirs away either.”
It was a sobering warning. One I was all too willing to heed.
“Where are we going?” I said quietly, hoping they’d remove the blindfold.
“Back to your father.”
I was in Paris; my father was entire oceans and continents away. How the hell did they plan on taking me to him?
Forty minutes later, my questions were answered when the car pulled to a stop, Al tugging me from the car behind him. The wind whipped at my hair, my dress sticking to my body and billowing out behind me. The unmistakable sound of a jet engine filled my ears, drowning out all other sounds.
“Get her on the plane fast, we need to take off now.”
I didn’t miss the urgency in the man’s order. But why?
I was shoved towards a set of steps, my shoe colliding with the metal, but I reared back.
There was no way I was getting on that plane. I didn’t care if they hit me, threatened me, or forcibly carried me. I wasn’t getting on there without a fight.
“Walk,” somebody grunted, shoving me roughly between the shoulder blades, but I pushed back against them, kicking out against the stairs.
“For fuck’s sake,” someone swore, two sets of strong hands closing around both of my arms and I was lifted off my feet.
I screamed and thrashed, trying to cause as much of a scene as I possibly could to draw attention. I had no idea who was around, if we were at some kind of airport or in the middle of a damn field somewhere. But once I got on that plane, this was over.
In the distance, the wail of sirens filled the air, and I hoped with every ounce of will in my body that those sirens were for me. I had no idea how long it would have taken for the guys to notice I was missing. Did their influence stretch to Paris? Sure, money talked, but did American money speak French?
The sounds grew closer and more cursing broke out amongst my father’s men.
“Get her on the damn plane!” someone shouted, and I was hoisted off my feet once again.
I thrashed with renewed energy, my right arm slipping from their grip, and I hit the metal stairs face first. Pain shot through my nose, wrists, and knees, and I cursed out loud.
The sirens were so close now. So close that they had to be for me.
Had Dacre, Pres, and Sin really come for me?
The sirens grew so loud they were deafening, with what sounded like about eighteen police cars surrounding us.
Shouts rang out in French and the arms trying to lift me disappeared, the sound of feet shuffling nearby.
“Dempsey!” Dacre called from somewhere and my chest cracked at the sound.
A sob escaped me where I lay on the cold metal stairs. Shoes pounded across the pavement, and I ripped at the collar of duct tape at my throat, trying to pull the hood free.
I was scooped up into strong arms, held against a wide, solid chest. “I’ve got you, baby, you’re safe now.”
“Get this off me!” I sobbed, clawing at the hood, suddenly panicked at the unending darkness.
The sound of a switchblade flicked. “Hold still,” came Sinclair’s commanding voice.
He sliced through the tape, tugging the hood from over my head. Blinding light burned my retinas, and I forced them shut, holding up my still-cuffed hands to cover my eyes. I was slowly lowered to my feet, Dacre holding my head to his chest as he wrapped his arms around me and held me to him, my face buried against him. Adrenaline ebbed from my body, my limbs shaking with relief.
When my eyes no longer felt like they were going to catch fire when I opened them, I lifted my head, squinting.
“There she is,” Presley said gently. Gentler than I’d ever heard him.
I offered him a tired smile, glancing at the chaos around us.
The guys had arrived with a serious convoy of police cars that surrounded the private plane. The French police had lined up my father’s men, all of them on their knees on the tarmac, their hands behind their heads. Eight in total.
Al’s hardened gaze followed me, a promise in his eyes that this wasn’t over. But I was an Aston now—something that both he and my father had clearly underestimated.
“She needs to be seen by a medic,” Dacre said, waving one over.
I shook my head. “I’m fine, honestly.”
“You were just abducted in a foreign country,” Sinclair snapped, like it was my fault. “Your wrist is all cut up and your nose is bleeding.”
I glared back at him. “You think I don’t know that?”
“What the hell happened?” he challenged, taking a step closer. His eyes were wild with worry.
Dacre’s arms tightened around me protectively. “Back off, Sin. Give her a fucking second.”
He walked me towards a small hangar where couches were arranged together haphazardly. I sat down in the center, Dacre taking a seat on one side of me, Presley at the other.
Sinclair paced in front of us. “Can you please put me out of my misery and tell me what the fuck happened?”
Pres leaned in close, pressing a kiss to my temple. “He’s been going insane since the minute we realized you were gone.”
I turned to Press, offering him a soft smile. He ducked his head, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.
Sinclair was there in a heartbeat, on his knees in front of me, shoving Pres aside and taking my face in his hands. His lips were on mine a second later, his tongue invading my mouth in hard, commanding strokes that left me breathless. The kiss was overwhelming, like always, but I felt every tortured emotion behind it.
“Alright, Sin, give her a break,” Dacre said, shoving his brother in the chest.
Sin’s mouth disappeared from mine, and he fell back on heels, lips swollen and expression filled with anguish.
I looked to Dacre, cupping his cheek with my hand and guiding his mouth to mine. I didn’t care who might be watching. I wanted to feel each of them. Know that they were there and they were real. They’d saved me from my father.
Dacre’s lips were soft and sweet, like always, his presence like a balm to my soul.
When we broke apart, Presley took my hand. “You really need to tell us what the fuck happened, Sass.”
“And why we’ve had half the Parisian police hunting for you.”
I glanced at each of them. “You did that for me?”
“We’d set the entire fucking world on fire for you,” Sinclair said, intensity burning through him.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“Those men work for my father,” I said. “They were paid to take me back to him.”