Chapter 3 – Vanessa
Chapter Three
Vanessa
Blade is every bit as vile as I clocked him the first time I set eyes on him. Luckily, Magnum doesn’t let me out of his sight until it’s time to do the trade. He’s chatty, and after several hours of talking about everything under the sun…
I kinda like him.
Okay, at the very least, I don’t hate him, which is weird because I’m his prisoner, but he’s as friendly a face as I’m going to get under the circumstances.
He’s probably around my age, maybe a few years older, and he has a lightness to his personality that I don’t see often.
While I don’t think he’s awful, I keep most things to myself.
I’ve learned throughout my life that you never know when someone will try to use something against you, and the more the drugs wear off, the easier it is to censor what I say.
He must not like silence because I learn all about a woman named Candice and how she nearly killed Blade a few years ago before she ran from the MC.
Everything in me says that she’s the woman currently shacked up with the O’Connor brothers, but I keep my mouth shut about that too.
Magnum knows she’s in Boston, and he thinks Moretti can find her.
I know where she is, or at least I think I do, but I don’t owe him anything.
They kidnapped me as leverage to get back some poor woman and her kid.
That’s all kinds of fucked up.
I want no part of it.
I’ll reassess later if it looks like I might need to negotiate to save my life, but right now, I’m feeling very much fuck anyone with a dick. I’m tired of women getting caught in the crossfire of disagreements started by men. Except maybe Magnum. He doesn’t seem so bad.
They don’t blindfold me when we head to the meeting spot, and once again, I can’t tell if they’re inept or they just don’t think I’ll be a problem in the long run.
It’s a huge relief to recognize the area.
I’ve spent a lot of time down here recently because it’s where Wilder’s office is. I’ve been here more than normal, as we’ve had a lot of appointments relating to my supposed upcoming marriage to the O’Connors.
The Jacksonville Demons’ president smells vile, and he keeps me close to his side as soon as we’re out of the SUV.
I never thought I would be relieved to see Emory Moretti and the O’Connor brothers, but here we are.
They have incentive to get me back because a war with my family would be detrimental to all of Boston.
I also know them well enough to understand they aren’t going to just hand over that woman and her son.
They better fucking not.
I’m pretty sure everyone but the MC members can see this for what it really is—a straight-up execution.
Moretti isn’t the forgiving type.
Unless they paid him extremely well, I don’t see him letting them go. They kidnapped me to force his hand, and much like my father wouldn’t, I don’t see Moretti moving on amicably.
There’s some back and forth between Blade and Moretti that I mostly ignore in favor of planning out my vengeance. Blade has his hand wrapped tightly in my hair. My options seem to be mentally planning his murder or bursting into angry tears.
I refuse to cry in front of these people, so I disassociate hard. God, when did I even get so well-hydrated that I have liquid to spare?
I’m so tired of being treated like shit by men. My entire life, I’ve been told what to do, how to look and act, and who I was supposed to marry. Every aspect has been planned out for me.
Blade calls Magnum over to watch two other prisoners that I had no idea about. The men are in rough shape, indicating they were treated more poorly than I was.
Based on the woman’s face, I’m going to guess she has some prior relationship with Magnum. That sucks for her because he clearly chose to side with his president.
Huh, I wonder if she and Magnum had something romantic going on. Like maybe the kid is really his instead of Blade’s. That would be a juicy story.
Honestly, he looks so much like Patrick O’Connor that I have trouble believing the kid isn’t Patrick’s.
Not that I care.
They can all live as one big happy family, as far as I’m concerned.
“I was planning on keeping them,” Blade says, drawing me out of my thoughts.
Using his hold in my hair, he rips my head back, getting close to my ear.
“Such a shame I didn’t get a piece of you, but I hear your cherry is worth a pretty penny.
If only I didn’t have that bitch to take care of, I would’ve broken you in right.
” He raises his hand even higher, until I’m dancing around on my tiptoes.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making a sound.
It feels like he’s about to rip out chunks of my hair, but I refuse to show this asshole even an ounce of weakness.
“She’s in one piece, exactly like I promised.
” Blade shoves me toward the middle of the warehouse.
He’s disgusting.
He definitely deserved to be shanked.
Moretti gives the woman a gentle push toward me.
My stomach tightens.
I’m not heartless.
The look on her face alone is enough to tell me she’s terrified.
Blade starts talking shit again, and I focus on Moretti.
They have a plan.
I’m sure of it.
I just don’t understand why they haven’t executed every MC member in the warehouse yet.
They’re really taking their sweet time.
They could get on that now.
Moretti’s cold blue eyes meet mine, and his jaw clenches. He doesn’t look pleased that I got myself kidnapped and used as leverage, but this isn’t my fault. I’m not any happier about the situation than he is.
His head tilts as he looks at something over my shoulder, and I get a nice view of the dragon on the side of his skull.
The other side is covered in a beautiful woman’s portrait where the back of her head transforms into a skull.
Not many men can pull off head tattoos, but Moretti has just enough of a dangerous edge that the ink doesn’t seem out of place.
Gunshots ring out through the air, and my entire body stiffens.
Moretti’s head swivels, and he takes four large strides, grabbing my wrist and turning me as he shoves me behind him. I end up staring at his back, but that’s probably a good thing. He’s much bigger than I am, and it’s nice to have a human shield.
“The last thing you want to do when bullets are flying is to freeze,” he growls over his shoulder. He still has a hold of my wrist, and he tugs it backward toward the O’Connors.
It’s only when he steps on my toes that it clicks. He wants me to back up.
Fine.
Everyone can think I’m an idiot, but I didn’t even have breakfast this morning. I was too nervous because I knew I was heading to his house to beg for his mercy.
Then I was kidnapped.
Drugged.
Held prisoner for hours.
Excuse me if I’m a little slow to adapt.
Magnum might be in love with that Candice woman, after all. He executed his president. Some of the other MC members were killed too.
It appears Moretti and the O’Connors are going to let the remaining MC members live. That, or they’re just lying to them to make them believe they’re safe.
It’s not like I have any insider information.
It’s also not my business.
I have bigger issues to focus on…like how badly my father is going to punish me for getting myself kidnapped.
Will Moretti try to use this to say my family owes him one?
If so, he’ll have to get in line.
My father already owes the O’Connors a shitload of money, and he’ll do anything to avoid taking that kind of loss.
Moretti strides over, wraps his hand around my bicep, leads me to one of his SUVs, and unceremoniously shoves me into the back seat. “Park your ass inside the vehicle, Vanessa, and do not move!” He barks the command, jabbing a finger at me.
I had no intention of it, but hearing him spit orders at me makes my pride prickle.
I hate being barked at by alpha assholes.
Granted, I knew what I would be getting when I made the choice to go to his house this morning.
Was that just this morning?
Holy shit.
Today was the longest day ever.
My mind replays everything from being turned away at his gate to the accident in the parking lot and waking up in the shitty little motel room.
“They have my phone and keys,” I say as the thought dawns on me.
Moretti blinks at me for several long seconds, and his head swivels to look over his shoulder. “Hawk! Get over here.”
Another order.
How cute.
He sounds a lot like Blade when he was ordering around Magnum, and my nose wrinkles.
Gross.
Moretti closes the door in my face, stepping away to speak to the guy he called over. If I had to guess, he’s delegating the job of locating my things. A few minutes pass as I shiver against the leather of the SUV. It’s freezing, or my adrenaline is crashing.
It’s probably both.
I scoot across the leather and into the back passenger seat. My elbow digs into the armrest, and I lay my head on my palm as I wait.
I’m exhausted and wired.
My blood sugar is likely low from not eating all day, but I’m not hungry. I’m more focused on the fact my family is about to put me through the wringer. This bullshit isn’t my fault, but they’ll find a way to blame me.
The rear driver’s side door opens, which was where Moretti shoved me into the vehicle. He climbs inside, and I don’t bother opening my eyes, but I can smell him.
The man always smells like sex on a stick.
The first few times I scented him, I convinced myself he was wearing scent-enhancing cologne. I was also fifteen, and even to this day, he’s one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in person.
A few ridiculous fantasies were had, but I told myself over and over again that I was just imagining our level of compatibility.
Back then, I still planned to be the dutiful daughter.
Marrying the O’Connors would have made my family’s lives a whole lot easier, but I saw what an arranged marriage did to my mom.
She married one man for love and another to bolster her family’s position, which turned out to be an awful idea.
It took age and a little perspective to realize that I couldn’t let myself follow in her footsteps.
While I’ve always been wildly attracted to Moretti’s scent, I’ve done my best to seem unaffected. Usually, I have no trouble ignoring people, but Emory Moretti is impossible to disregard.
At least his scent is.
It’s stormy and chaotic.
Any time I’m close to him, I feel an almost magnetic pull to get closer. I didn’t even know human beings could come in lightning scent. It has to be some kind of warning from the universe that he’s dangerous.
“Are you okay?” the man in question asks, startling me out of my thoughts. “Did they harm you?”
I barely hold myself back from snorting. We both know he doesn’t care—outside of how much it will piss off my father and brothers.
“They drugged me, but that guy Magnum stayed with me the entire time. At least, that’s what he said.
I was unconscious for a while.” I shrug, finally opening my eyes.
It’s still freezing in the car. “He was tolerable. I’m fine.
” My teeth chatter, and I contemplate asking him to turn on the car so someone can bump the heat up.
Moretti sighs, moving around in his seat. “Lean forward, Vanessa.”
My head whips in his direction, and he holds out his coat.
I follow his instruction, and he tucks his suit coat around my shoulders. I’m not going to turn down the extra warmth, but my teeth dig into my lower lip as his scent floods my senses.
This is so bad.
I ache to pull it off so I can bury my nose in the material. That would definitely give away my small crush on his scent.
Not a crush on the man.
The man is intolerable.
It’s a scent crush.
Not a man crush.
He just smells so damn good.
“Would you like me to take you to my doctor to be examined?”
I shake my head more violently than I intend to. “No.”
“Understood,” he says, turning toward me in his seat. “Why were you at my home this morning, Vanessa?”
Dammit.
Even the way he growls my name threatens to make me shiver. That, combined with his scent, is too much. I can barely think straight, let alone form sentences.
I look away, glancing out the window. “It doesn’t matter.”
I hate the defeated feeling that has taken over since my adrenaline crashed, but it was a stupid idea to begin with. I’m not emotionally stable enough to listen to him make fun of me right now.
I started the day with more tenacity. That determination disappeared somewhere around the time Blade told me he didn’t rape me because Moretti impressed upon him the importance of getting me back with my cherry intact.
I’m so fucking tired of men.
You’d think with all the extra medical knowledge we possess that they would let go of that ridiculous concept.
It’s not like it’s the eighteen hundreds when paternity tests didn’t exist. And even if a woman went to her wedding night a virgin, that alone didn’t mean any kids would automatically biologically belong to her husband.
I’m exhausted on a soul-deep level, but my only choice is to try to run before my father can force me to marry Grigoryan.
Moretti sighs. “We’re just waiting for my driver. We’ll get you home as soon as possible.”
If he really wanted to say something comforting, he’d offer to drop me off at the airport after buying me a plane ticket to some random place my family would never find me.
I doubt that would be enough.
They’d track me down and drag me back, kicking and screaming the entire time. I’m still going to try to get away. I wouldn’t be able to stand myself if I went along without trying to fight back.