Present
“Will?” I climbed up on my hands and knees, patting the stone floor and feeling the grime under my hands.
Where had he taken me?
I blinked in the darkness, trying to see, but it was so black. I touched my face. Where the hell were my glasses?
Shit.
I could see decently without them or the contacts that I sometimes used, but not with the darkness making it even more difficult. I rose up off the ground, the uneven stones under my shoes curving into my soles.
I looked around, shoving my hair behind my ear. Nothing pierced the darkness. No sliver of light. No moon. No lamps. Nothing.
I’d fought and thrashed and hit, and the next thing I knew, we went through a door, down some stairs, turned a corner, and everything suddenly went dark.
Will, my God. It had been years since he got out of prison. Why had he waited until now?
I breathed in the cold air, the scent soaked with soil and water, as I spun around.
He’d changed. He looked exactly the same and worlds different at the same time.
His eyes…
Was he going to let something happen to me?
“I told you I wasn’t lying,” someone said, and I stiffened.
It sounded like Taylor Dinescu’s voice in the room, but I couldn’t see anyone or anything.
“I knew you weren’t,” another man said on the other side of me. “Girls smell different. She was all over the house when we walked in.”
I twisted around, facing the new voice.
But then another one spoke up from my left. “I say let her run,” he taunted. “She’ll die out there anyway.”
I spun toward him, breathing hard and holding out my hands. Where were they?
Where the hell were they?!
“Before we’ve gotten acquainted, Rory?” the other one I didn’t know asked. “Come on. I’m bored. She’s welcome to stay as far as I’m concerned. Aren’t you bored?”
“No,” Rory replied in a clipped tone. “I like things just the way they are.”
Laughs echoed around the room, Taylor joking, “You may have all you need here, man, but I sure don’t.”
“Where’s my glasses?” I yelled. “Turn on the fucking lights!”
“You got it.” The one who wasn’t Taylor, Rory, or Will said. “Here.”
A glow suddenly brightened a few feet away from me, and I blinked several times, adjusting to the light as a dark form lit a candle. Brick walls came into view, and someone was in front of me, holding something out.
I stumbled back, sucking in a breath, but then I noticed my glasses in his hand and grabbed them. “Get away from me,” I said, moving away.
“Relax, baby,” he cooed. “We were just afraid you’d break them. Don’t want you to not see this.”
A snort went off somewhere, and I slipped my glasses on, jerking my head left and right and taking it all in.
Ceilings made of wood hung low, water dripped down, wetting the brick on the walls, and wooden barrels sat around the room as empty wine racks, taller than me, filled the rest of the space. Stairs led up to a set of doors in the ceiling behind me, and a furnace ran, grumbling in the corner. We were in a basement. This house might have several.
I eyed the doors.
“Micah.” The guy who gave me my glasses approached me again, holding out his hand. “Moreau.”
I quickly backed away, shooting a glare from his hand up to him.
Micah Moreau? I took in his shaggy black hair hanging down his neck and around his ears, piercing blue eyes and a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. Maybe early twenties.
Moreau, Moreau…
“As in Stalinz Moreau?” I inquired, unable to catch my breath.
Was that his father?
He just smiled tightly and shrugged.
Shit. How bad does a kid have to be for a career criminal to not even be able to stand his own son?
He pointed behind him to a lanky blond with hollow cheeks and better skin than mine. “Rory Geardon,” he pointed out. “And you’ve met Taylor.”
I looked over at Taylor who sat on a stack of crates behind Will, leaning over his shoulder, smirking at me.
I locked eyes with Will. He leaned against the crates, his hands tucked in the center pocket of his hoodie.
A door was next to him, and I ran for it. He shifted away from the crates and grabbed me, and I shoved at his body, feeling something in his pocket.
I paused and then it hit me. My knife.
Or the knife I had on me when I woke up. I’d never seen it before, and I had no idea how it got in my pocket, but I wanted it back.
I dove into his sweatshirt, pulled out the knife, and backed away, unsheathing it again as I looked around me.
The other guys chuckled under their breaths.
“Did you bring me here?” I yelled at Will.
How long had he been here?
But I didn’t expect an answer.
I just screamed. “Let me out!”
I sucked in air, the small space, the darkness, and no place to run making my blood chill. I choked back my sob.
I knew he couldn’t be trusted. I told him that. I knew it.
“I hate you,” I said. This had everything to do with him.
Taylor jumped off the crates and came at me, and I lunged for him, only to have someone from behind grab my wrist.
I whipped around, swiping the blade, and Micah stumbled backward, hissing.
Blood dripped from his arm, and I backed away, holding the knife and keeping them in front of me.
“Fuck,” Micah cursed.
“I told you to let her die out there,” Rory bit out, taking Micah’s arm and elevating it as it bled.
“Let me out of here!” I screamed again.
But then all of them looked up, staring behind me as they stopped in their tracks.
I straightened my spine. What?
But I didn’t have time to wonder. Someone grabbed my hand with the knife, squeezing it as he fisted my throat with his other hand.
I gasped, crying out as I dropped the knife to the floor.
He turned me around, still clutching my neck, and I tipped my head back, looking up and seeing golden brown hair, slicked back, and high cheekbones framing amber eyes.
Young but older than the rest of them. Maybe Will’s age.
His lips curled at the corner, and my heart pounded so hard it hurt as I took in the broad shoulders, the five o’clock shadow, and the vein bulging in his neck.
“I would think they’d have a separate facility for the young women,” he joked, letting his eyes fall down my body. “Are they trying to make sure we keep misbehaving?”
Snorts went off behind me, and I planted my hands on his chest, trying to push him away as I heard a scrape on the ground, probably someone picking up my knife.
My hair hung in my face, over my glasses, and I was so thirsty.
He released me and I darted backward, putting distance between me and every one of them.
“Forgive me,” he said. “Just a joke.”
He walked around me, stopping at Micah Moreau and lifting the guy’s arm, inspecting it.
I flashed my gaze to Will, but he just stared down, absently scraping the blood out from under his nails with my knife as if I weren’t here.
“It’ll be okay.” I looked back at the guy talking to Micah, seeing him raise his arm back up to stop the flow of blood. “Just keep it clean.”
Who was this guy? Was he…?
Was he the one ‘in charge’?
I scanned his clothes, seeing a smooth-looking white Oxford, perfectly pressed and tucked into some black dress slacks with a shiny leather belt. He wore black leather shoes, and everything fit him perfectly, as if it were tailored especially for him.
A little better dressed than the other guys, but he did say ‘we’. Are they trying to make sure we keep misbehaving, he’d said.
He was a prisoner, too. He was the alpha Will spoke of.
Micah nodded at him before tossing me a scowl, and the alpha came back, regarding me.
“My apologies for them.” He pressed a hand to his chest, coming in. “Sincerely.”
But I shoved him back before he got any closer, his pressed white shirt now smudged with my dirt. “Get away from me.” And then I looked to Will. “Will!” I barked.
He just stood there, his gaze rising to meet mine without a care in the world.
“Will!” Jesus, snap out of it!
To hell with this. I ran for the stairs, jiggling the double doors to get out.
“I wouldn’t try that,” the alpha said. “It’s cold, I’m guessing you don’t know how to hunt, and believe me when I say you can walk a day in every direction and see nothing but your own footprints when you finally give up and drag your freezing ass back here because you have no other choices.”
I growled, pushing and slamming my body into the doors, but all I could hear were chains on the other side, holding it secure.
“Give it back to her,” I heard him say behind me.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing him speak to Rory who now held my knife, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it.
He narrowed his eyes. “She sliced Micah,” he argued.
The alpha stepped up to him, looked down into his eyes and didn’t say another word. Rory tightened his lips and stalked over, tossing me the knife, now sheathed.
I caught it, stepping down off the stairs and holding it firmly in my fist.
“I’m Aydin,” the alpha said, looking at me. “Aydin Khadir. No one will touch you again. You have my word.”
“Your word…” I almost laughed. “Does that mean anything when all I know about you is that you were despicable enough to get locked up in here?”
He quirked a smile, walking over to a small steel door on the wall and opening it.
Flames burst inside, and he reached down, taking a couple of logs and tossing them inside the oven. “You may know me,” he retorted, taking the poker and churning the wood. “My family probably owns one of the many sweat shops in Vietnam where your cheap Target blouse was manufactured.”
Taylor laughed, and I steeled my spine.
I watched as Aydin unwrapped a cut of meat from the same white butcher paper I saw on lots of the fare inside the refrigerator upstairs.
Picking it up with his fingers, he slapped it on a metal tray and slid it into the brick oven. I flinched as the flames engulfed it, the oven looking deep enough to hold a whole damn person.
I tensed.
“No one will touch you,” he said, staring at the flames before turning to look at me. “Until you want us to.”
Snickers filled the room, and I licked my lips, unnerved.
“Why am I here?” I demanded.
But he just taunted me. “Right?” he said. “Why are any of us here? We’re all innocent.”
Rory and Micah laughed, and I inched forward, the knife clasped in my hand.
“I’m not a prisoner,” I told him. “I don’t come from wealth. All I remember is leaving my office in San Francisco for lunch and waking up here. Where are we?”
Aydin just stared at the flames, the light dancing across his face.
“She knows Will,” Taylor said.
“Does she?” Aydin looked over his shoulder at Will. “Is she family? Please say it isn’t so.”
Will hung back, his hands in his pocket again as he leaned into the crates. The fire reflected in his gaze as he stared at me.
“Will,” I pleaded.
But he remained quiet.
“He doesn’t seem to know you,” Aydin teased.
I shook my head. “There must be some way to get a hold of security or the people who run this place or—”
Aydin pulled out the steak, sizzling on the tray, and set it on the wooden table, grabbing a knife and fork and cutting the meat.
“We have a kitchen, of course, but the meat is so much better cooked down here.” He looked at me, bidding me over. “You must be hungry. We’re not completely uncivilized. Come here.”
He took a pitcher and poured a glass of water, and my mouth dried even more, seeing how good it looked.
“Your name?” he asked, pushing the glass and pan toward me.
I clamped my mouth shut.
But Will spoke up for me. “Her name is Emory Scott,” he answered.
I shot Will a glare. A smirk danced across his eyes.
“From Thunder Bay, as well?” Aydin asked him.
And Will nodded.
Taylor took back his spot, sitting on the crates behind him and hanging over Will’s shoulder again as everyone watched me.
I stepped a little closer to Will, too angry to care right now.
“Always following,” I taunted him. “Never the leader, and always latching on to anyone who loves you.”
He stared at me.
“Your friends have moved on,” I told him. “Buying up Thunder Bay. Starting families. Probably happy to be rid of their weakest link.” My eyes burned on him. “Even Damon seems happy, judging from the news I catch from home. No falter in his steps as he does just fine without you.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed, and I smiled a little.
Yeah, he didn’t like that.
“Damon…” Aydin murmured, looking over to Will. “Torrance?”
Will remained silent.
“And Michael Crist and Kai Mori, right?” Aydin continued. “I would be jealous you have people who care enough to send help if it weren’t a female a year too late.”
Everyone chuckled.
No one sent me. Someone kidnapped me.
“Took them long enough,” Taylor added. “And we’ve been here the whole time, taking care of him.”
“He’s ours now,” Aydin told me. “The senator’s grandson has elevated his company, my dear. We’re not toys playing at war.”
“No, you’re prisoners playing like you have any power.”
He nodded once, unfazed. “We’ll revisit that topic again another time. Eat.”
The food sat there, the smell permeating the air, and I saw Micah staring at it more than once.
Aydin dug into his steak, taking a bite. Where was their food? I looked at Will, but he still just stared at me.
“I’m not staying here for a month,” I said.
Aydin continued eating and took a drink of water, washing it down.
“Things happen fast in the wild,” he said, cutting another chunk. “Hunting, fishing, hiking, remote as we are…a simple injury can mean death.” He raised his eyes to me. “A simple injury can leave you in a lot of pain.”
He chewed his food and then pushed his plate away, swallowing.
“Micah had an anxiety attack when he first arrived,” he explained, looking at the guy. “Remember that? We had to put him down here for a whole day, because his hysteria was driving us insane.”
I shot my eyes to Micah, his gaze on the floor now. They locked him in here? Because he had a panic attack? He could’ve died.
I begged Will with my eyes, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He wasn’t looking at anything anymore, staring at the floor, same as Micah.
“I’d hate for that to happen to you at the wrong time,” Aydin said, approaching me. “When the crews show up again, you could be down here, in the tunnels, undetected until they came again the next month.”
My heart sank to my stomach, and while I had no clue why the rest of them were locked up in here, I had a very good idea about what made him such a threat.
He stepped up to me, and now the guys behind him weren’t laughing so much anymore.
“You’ll stay with us,” Aydin whispered. “We’ll take care of you until they arrive.”
I looked up at him, the dark brown in his amber eyes sharpening with the threat.
“I want to see Will alone,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm.
Aydin looked over at Will. “Is there anything you can hear that we can’t?”
Will’s eyes darted from me to him, hesitating a moment before replying, “No.”
Aydin turned, smirking, and I knew.
I knew…
I couldn’t stay here. There was a town nearby. If I had to walk for three days until my body nearly expired from dehydration, I’d find it.
Slowly, I circled around Aydin, backing up and keeping my eyes on the boys as I made my way toward the door. “You want some fun?” I asked Taylor. “Five-minute head start then.”
He grinned wide, looking to Aydin and then back to me. “Two,” he cooed.
He hopped off the crates, Will, Rory, and Micah turning to face me as Aydin stood in the back, waiting.
And then…
I launched for the door, swinging it open and racing through, charging up the old stone stairs and through the door at the top.
They howled behind me, lighting a fire under my feet, and I swung around, not knowing where the front door to the house was from here, but I saw the kitchen and ran for it.
Swinging around the large island, I bolted for the back door and charged through, leaping onto the grass, immediately stumbling to my knees and rolling down the small wet hill, darkness looming everywhere.
Ice seeped through my skin.
He was right. It was cold.
Scrambling to my feet, I dug in my heels and ran. I ran and ran, not risking a look back as I made for the cover of the trees ahead.
Gasping for breath, I glanced to my left, seeing a huge ass waterfall gushing over a cliff. I slowed, widening my eyes as it rose high above and the balconies of the house overlooked it.
My God. I kept running, not believing what I was seeing. Where the hell was I?
The waterfall spilled into a ravine I couldn’t see, but I just shook my head and ran so hard my body screamed. Diving into the darkened woods, I raced through the brush. I wished I wasn’t wearing a white shirt.
I rounded trees, deciding to stay close to the edge of the forest where the land spilled off to the side. Good chance there was a river below that carried the water from the fall, and where there was water, there were towns.
Stumbling over rocks as branches whipped at my arms, I barely even bothered to look ahead as I pushed my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, the knife still in my hand as I struggled for air.
It was fucking cold. Where were we? It was only mid-October, there was a waterfall in their backyard, and trees that didn’t belong anywhere I’d ever lived.
Canada? There were hemlocks, spruces, white pines… These trees were partial to the northeastern part of North America.
I had been part of a design team right out of college that renovated an old house in St. John. The owner was adamant about re-introducing native flora to the property.
God, how did I get here?
Hollers went off behind me, hitting the air, and I whimpered. They were coming.
I dug in harder, sweat coating my back despite the cold as their howls got closer and closer, and I could almost feel their hands on me as I raced. I hit the ground, scurrying behind a bush to hide myself.
I couldn’t stop gasping for breath, my heart about to beat out of my chest. I wasn’t going to make it, outrunning them.
I’d hide until they gave up, and then I’d make a run for it.
Leaves rustled and footfalls pounded past. I didn’t see them through the bush, but I could hear them.
They ran, their steps fading away, and I stayed rooted in my spot.
“Em-ory!” they called, but their voices were nowhere near me.
I smiled.
“Emmmmmoryyyyyyy!” they sang.
And still, their voices sank farther and farther away.
Slowly, I slipped the knife into my pocket, got my feet under me, and rose enough to look over the edge of the bush, just to sneak a glance at their position.
I didn’t see anyone. Yes.
I’d hide here—or somewhere else if I had to—and make my escape when they were gone. The grounds were huge. They couldn’t cover every inch.
I was getting out of here—rain or shine.
I squatted back down to maintain my hiding place, but then I caught sight of Micah, racing right for me.
“Boo!” he shouted.
I screamed and lost my balance, flailing my arms and flying backward. I rolled down the small incline and grappled at the ground to stop myself, but I just kept slipping.
Shit!
I cried out, my legs falling over the edge of something, and I tumbled over the side of the cliff, a hand grabbing my wrist just in time.
I kicked and looked down, seeing the river far below as I swung my other hand up, grasping for whoever had me.
“Rory!” Micah shouted, sliding on his ass with me as he held on. “Taylor!”
I whimpered, feeling us slide. He was coming with me. He couldn’t hold on.
Another body dropped down next to him, and Rory grabbed my other arm.
I hung there as they held onto me, knowing they could let go at any moment, and not so sure anymore that I’d rather risk starvation or dying of exposure out in the wilderness. Don’t let me go.
Taylor, Will, and Aydin slid down the hill behind them and came to stand over the three of us. Aydin looked as calm as he did inside the house like he didn’t even have to break a sweat to come out here after me.
He cocked his head, watching me dangle there. “Put her in my room,” he told them.
