Chapter Eight
Elodie
I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Minutes. Hours.
Time has stopped making sense.
The room smells of mildew and old wood. A single bare bulb hangs from the ceiling, swaying ever so slightly whenever footsteps echo through the house. My wrists ache where rough rope bites into my skin, secured tightly behind the back of a wooden chair.
My ankles are tied to its legs, leaving me almost completely immobile. Every breath catches against the cloth gag knotted behind my head. I’m trying not to panic. But every time I hear a floorboard creak outside the room, my heart starts racing all over again.
I should have called Raiden. The thought loops endlessly through my mind. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.
The bedroom door opens. I flinch before I can stop myself. Drake strolls inside as though he’s entering a hotel suite instead of a room where a woman is tied to a chair against her will.
The two men I’d seen around him before remain just outside the doorway, watching me with detached expressions.
Drake sighs dramatically. “It really didn’t have to be like this, Elodie.” His voice is calm. Almost disappointed. “You could’ve saved yourself all this.” He walks slowly around me.
“I asked you to dinner.” He stops beside my shoulder. “You said no.”
His fingers brush a strand of my hair away from my face. I recoil as far as the ropes allow.
His smile widens. “I sent flowers.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I sent notes.”
Silence.
“You ignored every single one.” He crouches until we’re eye level. “And then—” His smile disappears. “You chose him.”
My stomach drops.
“You didn’t think I’d find out?” He laughs softly. “You honestly believed no one would tell me that you’ve been spending every night with Raiden Sharpe?”
Heat floods my face despite my fear. He knows.
“Do you know what that does to a man’s reputation?” He rises again, adjusting the cuff of his jacket. “I have competitors. Enemies. People waiting for me to show weakness.”
He tilts his head. “If word gets around that some pretty little kindergarten teacher rejected me and happily moved on with another man…” He shrugs. “What kind of message would that send?” His expression hardens. “I don’t tolerate people telling me no.”
The room suddenly feels even colder.
“You made this personal. I don’t enjoy consequences.” He raises a hand. “But I do enjoy making examples.”
Tears blur my vision. Then, his hand closes around my throat and squeezes. I can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t even beg him to stop.
My gasp for air gets trapped in my throat. My body jerks, and just when I think I might not survive this, a crash explodes somewhere below us.
The sound is loud enough to shake the floor. Drake freezes. Another crash follows. Then shouting.
He turns sharply toward the two men. “What the hell was that?”
They don’t wait for another order. Both rush down the hallway before their footsteps thunder down the stairs.
Drake releases my throat, and I breathe shallowly as I cough and gag, sweat rolling down my temple. He rushes toward the door, listening. Then he closes it and looks back at me.
A slow, menacing smile frames his lips. “I suppose they can handle it.”
He steps close again. Whatever’s happening downstairs no longer seems important to him.
“I’ll deal with them later.” His gaze never leaves mine. “You know…” His voice lowers. “I almost admired your spirit.”
He reaches toward my cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut. Then, a deafening bang echoes through the hallway. Not downstairs. Outside the bedroom. Drake spins around.
The bedroom door bursts inward so violently it slams against the wall. Two figures rush inside.
For one impossible second, my terrified mind can’t process what I’m seeing. Then I recognize him. Raiden. Our eyes meet, and everything else disappears.
“Freckles.” I’ve never heard something sound so desperate.
Drake lunges toward me. He never gets there. Roman intercepts him with a forceful tackle that sends both men crashing to the floor. Furniture splinters. Drake swings wildly. Roman blocks the punch before driving him back onto the floor.
I don’t look again because Raiden is already in front of me. He drops to one knee, his hands trembling as he reaches for the ropes around my wrists.
“Hey.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”
The rope falls away. Then the one around my ankles. Finally, he unties the gag. The moment it drops, I throw myself at him. He catches me before I can fall.
“I’m here.”
The words break something inside me. I clutch his shirt with both hands.
“I thought— My voice cracks.
“I know.”
“I thought I wasn’t going to—”
“I know.”
His arms tighten around me. He pulls back just enough to examine my face. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Did he touch you?”
Before I can deny it, his gaze finds my neck, and he goes rigid, his pale blue eyes darkening with rage.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” he says coldly, already starting to rise.
I grip him tight. “Don’t. I need you, Raiden.” My words filter through the haze of anger.
He kisses my bruised neck. “I’m sorry.”
Behind him, I hear another struggle. Roman still has Drake pinned to the floor.
“Go,” Roman says without looking up. “We’re good.”
Raiden nods once. Then he scoops me into his arms. I instinctively wrap mine around his neck. He carries me toward the hallway. Just before we step outside the room, one of his hands gently cradles the back of my head, turning my face into his shoulder.
“Don’t look.”
His voice is gentle. I don’t argue. I bury my face against his neck instead. His heartbeat pounds steadily beneath my cheek. Strong, certain, and safe.
It’s the first time since being dragged into that SUV that I know I’m going to survive.
???
Neither of us speaks during the drive home. The city passes by in a blur of lights. I don’t look out the window. Instead, I tighten my grip on Raidan’s hand. His grip is firm. Grounding. Every now and then, his thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles.
It’s a silent reminder He’s here. I’m safe. I cling to that feeling all the way to his apartment—home.
The apartment feels strangely peaceful. Almost unreal after everything that’s happened. Raiden guides me to the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, he returns with a mug of tea.
“It’s hot.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Neither of us says anything while I take the first sip. Gradually, the trembling eases. My breathing steadies. The silence stretches until one question finally pushes through the fog in my mind.
“How?”
Raiden looks up.
“How did you know where I was?”
His expression changes. Guarded.
“I need the truth.”
He sits opposite me. For several seconds, neither of us speaks. Finally, he exhales. “You deserve an explanation.”
I nod.
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I wasn’t meeting a client tonight.” My stomach tightens. “I was downstairs with River, Roman, and Royal.”
“Downstairs?”
“Beneath the tattoo shop. There’s another level. We use it as our headquarters.”
The words don’t immediately register. “Headquarters? For what?”
He studies me carefully. “Asking that question may change how you see me.”
“I still want the answer.”
He is quiet for a long moment. Then he begins.
“When I was sixteen, my older brother was killed. He was caught in the crossfire during a gang shooting between an Irish gang, the Emerald Serpents, and the Mafia. They arrested the gang leader responsible.”
Raiden’s jaw tightens as he continues. “The arresting officer failed to read him his rights. The confession couldn’t be used.
And there wasn’t enough evidence without it.
So, he walked.” I stay silent. “My parents buried my brother.” His voice remains calm.
“I spent years believing the justice system worked.”
His gaze drifts toward the window. “That’s why I became a prosecutor. I wanted to put people like him behind bars. But eventually, I realized the law doesn’t always protect the people who deserve protecting.”
He meets my eyes again. “Sometimes, it protects the people who know how to manipulate it.”
A chill runs through me.
“So, River. Roman. Royal. Me.” He pauses. “We investigate people the system can’t or won’t stop.”
The implication settles over me. Slowly.
“You go after criminals.”
“The worst of them.”
“Drake.”
“He’s been on our list for a long time, even before he met you. When I realized he had you on his radar, I hid a tracker in your bag. It’s the reason we were able to find you.” He holds my gaze. “I’m sorry, Elodie.”
Our gazes remain locked as I take in everything he just told me. I’m not so naive that I don’t know that criminals and offenders get away with their crimes because they are either influential, rich, or know someone who is.
I’ve been on the receiving end of it too. The drunk driver who hit my parents didn’t serve any real time because he knew someone influential who got him probation instead of prison.
As for the tracker—it seems necessary. After all, he saved me because of it.
“I understand why you started,” I say finally. “And I forgive you for keeping me in the dark.”
Relief colors his tone. “Thank you, baby.”
I smile and cross to his side. “What will happen to Drake?”
“You won’t need to worry about Drake ever again,” he reassures me.
I thread my fingers through his as another face appears in my mind. “What about Teddy? What will happen to him?”
Raiden’s expression softens. “He’s safe. Royal found his mother. Drake forced her out of Atlanta a long time ago. River and Royal are bringing her back.”
Relief floods through me.
Finally, Raiden kneels in front of me. “I need to ask you something.”
I look at him.
“I won’t stop.” His voice is steady. “The work we do. I can’t promise I’ll walk away from it. And if you stay with me, there will always be things I can’t tell you.” He pauses. “I’ll never lie to you. But I won’t tell you everything.”