Author: Roni Loren
“Yeah, the guy’s in his own zip code. I figure it’s only a matter of time before he gets kicked out. He ordered a whole shitload of stuff from me a few weeks ago under a fake name, so I assume he’s setting up his own private playground.”
“Huh. Glad to know he’s running part of our city government.”
Jace became quiet again, apparently lost in his own thoughts, and Reid tapped his fingers on the armrest as he stared out the window into the night. Jace would slow when they passed gas stations and rest stops, but after another thirty minutes, they still hadn’t spotted a cab.
Reid shifted restlessly in his seat, something tugging at his brain. He’d gotten a weird vibe on the phone with Brynn. More than just her anger, something else. But he hadn’t been able to pinpoint what had bothered him. He played the conversation over again in his head. What had she said? I don’t have ruby slippers. Strange statement.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest, going over the words again and again, turning and rearranging them. Then, like numbers in a combination lock, they finally clicked into place—one word standing out among the others. All the breath left his lungs. “Fuck!”
Jace shot him a wary look. “What’s wrong?”
He pressed the heels of his hands to his brows, his head instantly starting to pound. “She used her old safe word and I didn’t catch it.”
“What?”
“On the phone. She used the word, trying to tell me something.” His frustration over not being able to find her now turned to cold fear. He looked at Jace. “What if she’s in trouble?”
He gave Reid a sidelong glance. “I think you’re getting paranoid and reading too much into things. She’s just pissed at you, man.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. She used the word specifically. She emphasized it. I was just too shocked over her leaving to catch it. And why would she leave so suddenly—give up on finding her sister so easily?”
Jace’s face reflected Reid’s worry. “But she was at The Ranch—it’s not like the dude who’s after her sister could just pop in. How could she get into any trouble?”
“God, I don’t know. Maybe someone called her, lured her out. Maybe this drug dealer guy has some contact inside The Ranch.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “She could be fucking anywhere. All I know is that she was in a car.”
“What do you want me to do? Turn around or keep going?”
Reid stared straight ahead, wracking his brain. Had she said anything else in the phone call that contained a clue? Had anyone at The Ranch seemed like they were paying particular attention to Brynn? A whisper of something danced at the edge of his awareness.
He thought back over the previous night, about each moment he’d spent with Brynn—making love to her, touching her, kissing every inch of bare skin. The conversation they’d had in the tub. Thought about how he’d bathed her, soaped her back, ran his fingers along her spine and over the faint circular birthmark that graced the line of her shoulder blade.
An icy stillness moved over him as he pictured that last moment, the mark on her skin. It hadn’t quite been a circle, more like two crescents not fully joined together. And had that been there when they’d dated before? No, not that he remembered.
When he’d touched it during the bath, Brynn had tensed ever so slightly—like she’d momentarily held her breath. He’d thought maybe she was reacting because she was self-conscious about the birthmark, but…
A nauseating realization gripped his gut.
No.
Not a birthmark.
A bite mark.
Reid gripped the door handle as murderous rage ripped through him, his whole body shaking with the need to maim and dismember. “Turn the car around.”
Jace gave him a quick glance. “You sure?”
“Turn the goddamned car around, Jace,” Reid said through clenched teeth. “I know who has her. Jesus Christ. That sick fuck is the one who raped her.”
The car slowed a bit as Jace turned to him with knitted brows. “What? Who? The drug dealer?”
“No. Ackerman. Brynn has a bite scar on her back. She was working for him when she was attacked.”
“Holy fuck.” Jace’s expression hardened, and he eased off the gas pedal so that their U-turn didn’t send the vehicle into a roll.
Anger flared up so fierce inside him, Reid was sure he’d breathe fire if given the chance. That monster had his girl. She was alone in her worst nightmare. God, please let me get to her in time. And Davis had better start praying, ’cause Reid was ready to send him straight to his fucking maker once he got Brynn away from him.
That psychopath had traumatized and ripped Brynn apart. Had destroyed the relationship he and Brynn had been building. How different would both of their lives be if Reid had gotten the chance to give her the ring that day? That fucker had stolen everything. Reid cracked his knuckles. “If he hurt a hair on her head…”
Jace shot him a look of warning. “Take a breath. You can’t kill him, dude. You don’t even know if it was him for sure or if he even has Brynn right now. You of all people should know circumstantial evidence can be dead wrong.”
Reid knew that, but something deep in his bones told him he was on the mark with this one. “I won’t kill him. But if he is the one who has Brynn, I’m going to see if the asshole likes receiving pain as much as he likes dishing it out.”
TWENTY-ONE
Sweat soaked through Brynn’s toga as Davis Ackerman continued down whatever road they were on. He’d wrapped bungee cords beneath her breasts and around her legs, securing her to the seat, then had cuffed her wrists and blindfolded her.
Brynn breathed through the panic. She was with her rapist. She’d known the minute he’d whispered to her in the voice from her nightmares. But why did he have her sister? Was he associated with the drug dealer who wanted Kelsey? It didn’t make sense. Davis was a respected councilman for God’s sake. She cleared her throat and tried to force calm into her voice. “Where are you taking me?”
He snorted. “Oh, so now you’re going to make conversation? Last night you didn’t even bother to say hi.”
She wet her lips. “I wasn’t allowed to speak. I was with a dom.”
“Yeah, I saw your little performance with your two old friends last night,” he said, disgust dripping from his tone. “I guess some things never change. You’re still going after the smarmy pretty boys and still willing to spread your legs at the drop of a hat.”
She recoiled as if she’d been slapped, and her response tumbled out before she could stop herself. “You don’t know shit about me.”
He laughed, the sound chilling her blood. “I know how easy it was to tie you up and fuck you before you even realized I wasn’t one of your lovers. Maybe I’ll make you say my name this time so you don’t forget who’s inside you.”
The world tilted beneath her feet. Nausea shuddered through her and fingers of panic squeezed around her windpipe as she sucked in sharp, quick breaths. She wouldn’t survive his touch again.
He chuckled. “Maybe we can do a three-way. I’ve always fantasized about sisters.”
Kelsey. Her sister’s name broke through the haze of spiraling fear in her brain. Kels needed her. Brynn couldn’t let herself slip into the anxiety attack or pass out from hyperventilation. Her sister would be left alone with the monster in the front seat.
She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and held it for a moment before breathing out through her mouth. In… one, two, three… Out… one, two, three. She focused on centering herself, clearing her head. The only chance she had of protecting her sister and herself was if she could wrangle in her emotions.
The SUV made a hard left turn, throwing her weight to the right, and then the sound of crunching gravel filled her ears. She’d lost track of how long they’d been riding, but she knew it hadn’t been long enough to reach the city yet. Shit. Where the hell was he taking her?
A few bumpy minutes later, the vehicle pulled to a halt, and Davis shut off the engine. “Things will go much easier for you if you cooperate, so I don’t suggest you try anything heroic. And don’t bother screaming when we get out. There’s no one around to hear you.”
“What do you want from us?” Brynn bit out.
“From Kelsey? A little information. From you?” He paused and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. “We’ll just have to see what mood strikes me.”
Doors opened and the car dipped twice. Then, the air shifted. Hot breath hit her cheek. “Mmm, you still smell the same. Like fear. You know all that adrenaline rushing through you right now can actually enhance a sexual experience. Add in a little pain and it will send you right over the edge.”
She reeled backward in her seat, bile rising to the back of her throat. “Get away from me, you fucking psycho.”
He laughed. “Now, no need to be crude. Although, I expect no less from you. I know from experience you’re no lady.”
His steel grip wrapped around her upper arm, and he jerked her to her feet. “And I expect from this point on, you call me master.”
Over my dead body. But she swallowed back the words before they slipped out. At this rate, that might be exactly what he had in mind.
He hauled her out of the car, and she fell forward, her knees and elbows landing hard on the pebbles. She clenched her teeth through the sting, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain.
He grabbed the chain between her cuffs and yanked. “Get up and walk.”
He led her from the humid night air into an air-conditioned space. Thick carpet silenced their footfalls as he shut a door behind him.
He guided her another few steps, then untied her blindfold. Brynn blinked as her eyes adjusted and was surprised to find herself in a brightly lit kitchen. A darkened flight of stairs stretched down through a door in front of her. Davis grasped the back of her neck. “Down the steps. Try to stay on your feet this time.”
She shot him a hateful glare and moved forward when he nudged her. Slowly, she descended the stairs, her heart sinking as the fluorescent light disappeared behind her and the contents of the basement came into view. No workout room or rec area for Davis Ackerman. Nope. Instead, a full-scale BDSM playground—his very own personal dungeon—spread out before her. A St. Andrew’s cross, benches, a wall full of hooks with various tools she couldn’t identify.
But the shock of that paled in comparison to the surprise that greeted her as she hit the bottom step.
They weren’t alone.
Roslyn Jamison gave her a disdainful look as she casually held a gun at her side. “Oh, hurray, the gang’s all here.”
Brynn stared at her, trying to connect the dots between the man behind her and the woman in front of her. But none of it lined up. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She pursed her lips. “You couldn’t leave things alone, could you? I should’ve known. You’ve been a complication since the day you were born.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” She waved the gun dismissively.
But Brynn couldn’t draw her eyes away from her—her presence too unbelievable to process. The petite woman looked like she was dressed for a political convention instead of a kidnapping. A navy blue, perfectly tailored pantsuit with matching low heels. 1950s-style white gloves. Even a bun with nary a hair out of place. The contrast with the BDSM equipment in the background was almost laughable.
But Brynn’s attention was diverted when a light sniffling sound came from her right. She whirled around to find Kelsey, tied to a chair, face swollen from crying and ball gag in her mouth. Brynn lurched in that direction. “Kels!”
