2. Hostile Takeover
Hostile Takeover
Sara
Knowing they have Peabody, I let Peter put a blindfold over my eyes when I’m in the car and bind my hands in front of me. I pay attention though. To the way the car moves. To the sounds around us. To the low conversation between the driver and the guy in black.
Peabody isn’t in the car. So hopefully they left him somewhere safe.
I’m not staying here longer than I have to, but the longer the drive takes, the more hope fades. There’s no traffic tonight to slow us down, so the extra time means we’re going out of the city.
Peter hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s beside me in the car. He has his phone out. I can tell by the little noises it makes when he presses on it. I keep my breathing steady even though my insides are tight and anxiety swirls like a tornado.
It was stupid to think I could just take Peabody out.
I’m officially the woman who goes down into the basement in a t-shirt and underwear and expects everything to be okay.
The realization that I did exactly what Hope did when she got kidnapped doesn’t escape me as I’m lost in my thoughts.
Don’t go out alone should be tattooed on all of us.
I should have turned back when I realized I didn’t have my phone.
I should have woken up Dante or Drew or Finn or Wyatt.
But bemoaning the fact I’m officially one of those girls won’t get me out of this situation. I used up my stupid and now I have to be smart. Figuring out how to get out of this situation is my main priority.
The guys will find me missing, but I don’t know what Peter’s goal is.
His daughter has disappeared and so has my brother. I can assume they ran off together, but what’s the point of snatching me off the street?
We have no way of contacting Tom, but does Peter know that? Maybe he assumes we can.
When the car finally stops, the door opens and someone grabs my arm and helps me out. I’m glad I put on a sweater so they aren’t touching me. I smell fresh air and grass. The wind is soft on my skin. It’s still dark outside though. Definitely not in the city.
I need to be able to see before they get me inside. I lift my hands, but someone stops them.
“Not yet, Ms. Morris,” Peter says with an even tone.
I’m led into the house and up some stairs. I try to count my footsteps. But if I don’t have somewhere to write down all the things I’ve memorized, I’ll lose them.
A door opens and I step into a room that smells like lavender.
“Sorry for the cloak-and-dagger, but I have a vested interest in keeping you here.” Peter takes my blindfold off and I glance around the room.
Two windows, both on the same wall. An open door to the hallway behind him and his guy in black. A door next to a wardrobe on the far wall.
“We can be cordial during your time with us, but I must insist on locking the door.” He grabs the duct tape binding my wrists and holds out his hand to his henchman—because what else would he be called?
The henchman—I’ll either need to find out his actual name or I’m going to give him one—places a knife in Peter’s hand.
“Please don’t jerk away, Ms. Morris. I’d hate to have to clean the rug.”
I press my lips together as he slides the knife under the duct tape. The cold metal slips across my wrists. A shiver works through me. He cuts through the tape and peels it back, pulling at the skin.
“The bathroom has everything you could need. You’ll forgive me for not providing a razor or scissors.” Peter smiles almost like I’m a child who can’t be trusted. “I have a scar from my early days. Maybe I’ll share the story with you at dinner this evening.”
I don’t say anything, but he has to be delusional if he thinks I’m going to have dinner with him. I don’t expect to be in this house any longer than I need to. My gaze goes to the bathroom door, hopefully there aren’t any cameras in there.
“Ouch!” I yelp when he rips off the last of the duct tape. I rub my wrists and back away from him until my calves bump against the bed.
“No one will harm you while you stay here. I run a very tight ship.” Peter hands the knife and duct tape to his henchman, who doesn’t have an expression, as far as I can tell, ever. “I expect you to behave as you were raised. I’d hate to have to bind you to keep you here.”
He runs his hand down his tie as his henchman walks into the hallway. “Sit tight, Sara. You’ll be given breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Essentially, you’ll be my guest. Think of it as a vacation.”
When he steps out of the room, I wait a second to listen for the snick of the lock. The first thing I examine is the doorknob. It’s a solid handle, so the lock must be on the outside. I try to turn it and it doesn’t budge.
Okay, not great for fire safety, but I’m really locked in. Shit, I’m really locked in, like fucking kidnapped. And not in the fun, sexy way I’ve read about in romance novels. More in the fuck, this sucks way.
I turn and stare at the room to inventory what I have available to me. It’s fairly sparse, a simple lamp on the nightstand. The bed is made with sheets and a quilt. I check the nightstand drawers and there’s nothing in them. No notepad and pen.
Next the bathroom. There’s a cabinet with towels and washcloths. Extra toilet paper. Little soaps and shampoos and conditioners like you’d find in a hotel and some samples of makeup and lotion. No obvious cameras in the corner or peeking out of the vents.
I draw in a breath and go to the wardrobe. The other piece of furniture in the room. I pull it open and find some clothes hanging. A couple dresses. Some sweaters and slacks. Socks. Even some panties and bras. Shoes, but nothing with a high heel.
Checking a few labels tells me they’re my size, and most of them still have tags on them.
I close the wardrobe and turn to scan the room for anything I missed. I even drop down to my knees and check under the bed, but there’s nothing there. Not even dust bunnies.
On my body, I have my clothes and my sneakers, which do have laces. I sit back on the floor and draw in a breath. I don’t have much to help me escape, but I still need to check the windows.
A cursory glance told me we’re on the second floor. Not a surprise with the steps. But now I stand, brush off my jeans, and make my way over to them.
They’re like hotel windows. No way to open them.
The house backs up to a forest. When I glance down at the ground, rose bushes line the wall below the windows.
It’s a sheer drop to the bushes. So if I broke the glass and managed to not cut myself, and if the fall didn’t injure me, the thorns probably would.
I sink down on the edge of the bed. At least it’s a comfortable prison cell.
I take off my shoes and grab the quilt to pull over myself.
Tom is going to owe me big time for this.
I’ve been kidnapped because of him. That much I’m sure of.
This is big enough to overlook me dating his best friends.
All of them. Whatever Tom is up to needs to end, which means he’ll be back here, but I’m not ready to be done with Finn, Dante, and Wyatt.
Turning on my side, I sigh. I sleep better in their arms, but I barely slept any last night before Peabody woke me. Fuck, I hope Peabody is okay. I hope the guys are okay. I’m going to get out of this.
* * *
As promised, breakfast and lunch were brought to my room. Both by the henchman who said nothing. It’s okay, I didn’t want to talk to him anyway.
It’s dinner time. I’m still in my sweater and jeans. Peter didn’t say to dress for dinner, but given the dresses in the wardrobe, he was hoping. I may be a prisoner, but I’m not going to prance around like this is some sort of vacation.
Lurch opens the door at what I assume is six. No phone. No clock. And calling the henchman Lurch, even if it’s not out loud, makes me smile.
I stand and run a hand down my jeans as I smile at him. It’s that soft, plastic smile that says everything is fine when really inside I’m a raging bull ready to throw plates and candlesticks in a full-out tantrum to be released.
When I step into the hallway, he leaves my bedroom door open and leads me away from my cell.
The walls are dark and lined with pictures.
The pictures are old black-and-white photos of men that are similar to Peter.
I’m not surprised when it transitions to color or that it ends with Peter and his daughter.
I long to stop and study her to see if I recognize her, but instead I follow Lurch to the staircase.
The stairs are wide and long, ending in a marble-tile-floored entryway.
I doubt I could push him down the stairs and make it out the door before someone caught me.
I also don’t want to accidentally kill the man.
So I just follow. Everything in this house is top-of-the-line and crazy expensive looking, but this is nothing new to me.
If Peter hoped to impress me, he’ll be disappointed. I’ve been in houses like this all my life, just usually not as someone’s captive.
We pass by the front door, which appears locked. But as we walk by a set of windows, I realize we’re in the middle of nowhere. Probably his estate. It would take me an hour to just walk off the property.
If I didn’t get caught first.
The rope tightens a little more around my neck. Escape seems futile, but I have to try.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage this or what my guys are doing to try to get me back. We didn’t have enough information to find Tom before. Will they be able to find me?
“Good evening, Ms. Morris.” Peter Sokolov stands at one end of a table large enough for ten, but that can be expanded even farther.
Lurch pulls out the chair at this end and doesn’t change his expression.
I’m tempted to knee him in the balls just to find out if he shows anything, even in pain.
I could have stayed in my room and claimed I wasn’t hungry, but I can use this opportunity to find out more about Peter and maybe figure out a way out of this place.
I sit in the chair like I’m wearing a ballgown and a tiara instead of jeans and a sweater. My back straight and my head high.
“I hope you find your room to your liking.” He sits and puts his napkin over his lap while people start to buzz around. Honestly, there are more employees than needed for the two of us. Our wineglasses are filled, along with our water goblets.
Plated salads are placed before us and then the employees slip into the background, leaving us alone. But they’re listening. In a household like this one, it pays to know things. And if there are employees, that means I might be able to get one to send a message to my guys.
Or even if I could steal a phone. Dante made me memorize his phone number in third grade when the driver broke down and couldn’t pick me up. I almost touch my chest at how my heart aches, knowing how disappointed Dante will be with me. He’s never going to let me out of his sight again.
I lift my wineglass and touch the liquid to my lips. It’s a dry red, but I’m not going to drink with this man. He hasn’t clearly stated his intentions yet.
All day, I had nothing but time to think after I woke up. Think about my guys and what they must be feeling right now. Think about what Peter’s motives might be. Think about my dog and what happened to him.
“What did you do to Peabody?” I ask, setting the glass down and staring at him.
“Gave him a pretty new collar and left him in your lobby. My contacts say your men found him. They’re on top of things.” He takes a bite of his salad with deliberately slow movements.
My insides loosen just a little to know that Peabody is okay.
“What do you want from me?” I don’t dare pick up the fork. Lurch wouldn’t let me get close enough to stab it into Peter’s cold, dead heart, but I’d definitely want to try.
“You?” He chuckles and sits back with his wineglass. “You’re just a pawn in this game.”
“A pawn?” My heart clatters to a stop.
“You shouldn’t be here long. Your friends will have gotten my message by now, and they’ll come knocking sooner rather than later.”
“Your message?” I swallow.
“It’s basic hostage negotiations. They bring me my daughter and Tom. They get you back. Seems like a fair trade.” Peter leans forward. “I get the pleasure of your company while I wait.”
“You think I want to be here?”
He chuckles again. “No, Ms. Morris. I’m fully aware you don’t want to be here.
That’s the point. Your men will do anything to get you back.
Including going to the ends of the world to find your missing brother.
If he’s harmed my Natasha, your stay will get considerably less comfortable.
I find that an eye for an eye works wonders to keep order. ”
Fire burns in his dark eyes as he narrows them on me. Fear crawls over me to settle around me. This is a dangerous man. I have no doubts he will do to me whatever Tom might have done to Natasha as retribution. I also know this isn’t the kind of man who will allow me to escape.
The darkness vanishes from his face like he flipped a switch. “I never cared much for the salad course.”
He sets his fork down and sits back. “Bring out dinner.”