Page 40 of Mine to Tease

“Please,” I beg, interrupting them. “Please, don’t hurt me. I have nothing to do with my brother’s business.”

The man in front of me has his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s calm, so calm he’s almost disinterested. It reminds me of Damon and how he acted after killing two of my brother’s men. These men are ruthless and detached when they have to be. And there’s no telling what they’ll do. The thought only makes my heart race faster. It’s the perfect complement to my aching head as the man continues to ball his fist around my long, curly locks.

The man in front of me takes a step toward me then. He removes his hand from his pocket and brings it to my face. He drags his finger over my lip and I flinch. There’s two of them and one of me. Even if I wasn’t completely paralyzed by fear, I’d stand no chance against them. With my phone out of reach and Damon not expecting a text from me anytime soon, tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision. My emotions only make my counterpart’s calmness that much more unnerving. Though nothing is more unnerving than the words he speaks.

“I know, Anastasia,” he says, removing his hand from my face. “Your brother’s crimes against my people are not your fault. But Angelo Piazzo was innocent and he still died a horrific death. And so will you. It’s only fair in this incredibly unfair world.” My lip quivers as cries rip from the deepest parts of me—loud and heart-wrenching. My entire body shakes in response so much so I barely notice when the man before me balls his fist and slings it into my face. But I feel it. I feel the first one and the second and then I feel nothing at all.

40

After finishing off my second bourbon, I glance at my watch to check the time. It’s been almost an hour and I still haven’t heard from Ana. I understand she hasn’t seen her brother in a while and she misses him, but not hearing from her is making me antsy. I should’ve at least told her to text me when she makes it to the suite. Why didn’t I do that? Geez. I shake my head and slip my suit coat off my shoulders. I know I’m getting worked up for nothing. I confirmed the meeting with Aidan himself. It’s just, I’ve barely let her out of my sight in all the time I’ve known her, and with all the conflict surrounding us, the distance between us is tearing at my insides. Would it really be so bad if I were to interrupt them, just for my own peace of mind?

Patience not my strongest suit, I stand and reach into my pocket to grab two hundred-dollar bills to leave for the bartender. I place the money on the mahogany bar top and slip back into my suit jacket just in time for my phone to vibrate. I let out a sigh of relief as I pull the device from my pocket, expecting to see Anastasia’s name on the screen. Instead, my heart sinks and a chill runs up my spine. My lips press into a flat line as I stare blankly ahead. It’s Gio and there are very few reasons he’d call at this time of night—none of which are good.

As I fear the worst, the sick feeling that’s been building inside me over the past hour reaches its peak. Tightly, I grip the phone and lift it to my ear. I answer the call from Gio without a word as I push past the nausea bubbling in my stomach and spring into action, quickly heading toward the elevators.

“Damon,” he says. I reach the elevators in a matter of seconds but it’s no use. They’re taking too long to return to the lobby. Instead, I shove open the door to the stairwell and take the steps two at a time to the fourth floor. All the while, adrenaline and heartache have me feeling desperate and frantic. “Aidan’s missing,” Gio continues. The news nearly brings me to my knees as I reach the door to the fourth floor. Nevertheless, I push forward. I have to get to Ana. That is, if she’s even— I stop myself from thinking crippling thoughts and shove open the door, making my way down the hallway toward the suite. “His men just informed me and you and I both know who took him. While he may not be our responsibility, Anastasia is, and if they know about her?—”

“Don’t say it,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Damon? Are you alright?” A lump in my throat steals my voice, and I place my phone back into my pocket without hanging up. “Damon?” I hear Gio’s muffled voice call out as I shrug out of my jacket. I know I’m walking into this blind. I know that this could be a trap. But what choice do I have? I roll up the sleeves of my black button-down and pull my gun from the holster on my hip.

With my gun drawn, I find the door to Ana’s suite cracked open. They’re either inside and are expecting me or they’ve already taken her. Either way, something inside me is about to die. One, two—I kick the door open and aim my gun, ready to fire, only to find no one staring back at me. Eyes narrowed, I enter the room, and just like I was trained to do, I clear every nook and cranny of the two adjoining suites before lowering my weapon.

There’s no one here. No one. But they were. I find Ana’s purse half open on the bed. The covers are wrinkled and tugged to the side. It’s as if someone grabbed hold of them or— I don’t know. I shake my head as emotion makes it impossible to think straight. I try to remain calm, calculated, in control. I try to scan the scene of the abduction like a good soldier, gathering every shred of evidence I can, but I can’t. My chest tightens to the point I have to place my hand over my heart just to ease the pain. Tears well in my eyes and a loud cry rips from me. I drop to my knees, toss my gun to the side, and bury my face in my hands as reality sinks in.

“They took her,” I say to myself as more tears drip down my face. Gio’s muffled voice calling out my name is the only thing that keeps me from completely falling apart or putting this gun to my head and dealing out the fate I deserve for allowing this to happen. I failed her. I promised I’d keep her safe. I promised nothing would happen to her and tonight, I was proven a liar. This is why protectors shouldn’t love their charges. I wasn’t thinking straight. I let her out of my sight during a time of conflict. I wanted to respect her wishes and make her happy by giving her a moment alone with her brother. If I wouldn’t have been concerned with her feelings, I wouldn’t have given a shit and this never would’ve happened. Whatever they do to her now is my fault. “My fault,” I say aloud.

Images of my mom and dad come to me. I blame myself for what he did to her, because I should’ve seen it sooner. I should’ve stopped it sooner. I failed her and it nearly destroyed me. I’ve already failed Ana once, but if I can get to her before they hurt her, then— It’s then that I realize the gravity of what Gio said. Aidan is missing. And, given the reply I got directly from his phone when I confirmed this very meeting, they had him before they even took Ana. If they had him, they didn’t need Anastasia. They simply wanted her. They want her because they want to make him suffer.

As reality sinks in, the oh-so-familiar darkness takes hold of me. My cheeks still damp with tears, I cease to cry new ones. Instead, I grab my gun from the floor, stand—numb and stoic—and lift my phone to my ear once more. In a voice that doesn’t sound like my own, I say, “They took her, Gio. They took her and we don’t have much time before there’s nothing left of her to save.”

Gio is quiet for a moment. I can feel the tension between us without seeing his face. He must have a million questions like how the Hell did this happen and how could you be so stupid? Instead, he asks none and gives me an order that I cling to as if my life depends on it. Because, if I think of anything else, if I shift back into Anastasia’s fiancé and not her protector, I won’t be any good to anyone. I’ll succumb to emotions that neither I nor Ana can afford right now.

“Get to the Compound. I’ll meet you there along with reinforcements. You know the drill. Repeat it to me now,” Gio says.

“Um, last seen—the Royal Sonesta Hotel. I’ll use our software to tap into the hotel’s cameras and find out where they exited. Then I’ll track them with city cameras to narrow down their location.”

“Good. Next?”

“Once we know their location, I’ll send out one of the drones with the infrared to determine the number of hostiles.”

“And?” This is the step I’m not prepared for. It’s the one that determines if this is a rescue mission, a suicide mission, or just cold, heartless revenge. I’m not prepared to find a lifeless corpse in the shape of the woman I love. If I see that, then my worst fear will come true and I won’t have the stomach for this mission at all. When I don’t answer, Gio says, “Damon…this wasn’t your fault. We’ve known for months that this was a possibility.”

I bite the inside of my jaw as my detached darkness fails me. A single tear falls. “Yes, Gio. We have known for months that they could come for her. So, tell me, if it’s not my fault, who the fuck’s is it?” At that, I end the call, return my gun to its holster, grab Ana’s belongings, and leave the room with a ringing in my ears.

Every night for the past three months, I’ve held Anastasia in my arms as she falls asleep. The only thing giving me the strength to put one foot in front of the other right now is the thought of having her in my arms once again. I will find her. I will save her. And I will drown this city in the blood of the men who have harmed her, so help me God.

41

There’s a low hum that rouses me from unconsciousness. Though, as I’m met with the pain of an aching head, swollen jaw, and busted lip, I wish I would’ve remained in the quiet darkness of my mind. As the low hum turns to louder voices, I try to move—first my arms and then my legs—but I can’t. I’m immobilized by the pinch of restraints. As flashes of the abduction come to me, chasing away what’s left of my grogginess, my bloodied lip quivers and my tender cheeks tighten as tears and cries for help bubble inside of me. The name Damon rests heavy on my tongue. It’s the only thing I feel I have the strength to say. Though it is my brother’s name that draws me from my spiral and forces me to open my eyes.

“We found your weak spot, Cross. And now we’re going to do to her what you did to Angelo Piazzo. Seven days of torture followed by a death of one thousand cuts.” The decree steals the air from my lungs and my chest burns. No, no! This isn’t real. This can’t be happening. I take in the scene before me as my eyes widen in horror and my heart beats frantically. It’s then that I find my brother sitting fifty yards across from me, bound to a chair with ropes just as I am.

“And what does that get you?” he asks, locking eyes with the man in the navy-blue suit. Aidan’s white button-down shirt has been ripped and is stained with blood. Visible wounds on his face and chest suggest he’s been here far longer than I have and yet, he’s received a similar beating.

As bile rises in my throat, I lower my eyes, daring to take in my own body. Though my dress is short and hiked up nearly to my vagina, it’s still attached to me, which is a blessing. Though there’s bruising on my legs and arms and a red welt on my chest most likely from the scuffle that got me here. Speaking of here—I scan the room as if I have any hope of escape. Are we even still in New Orleans? How much time has passed? Does Damon know where I am? Does he even realize I’m missing?

As a hundred thoughts flood me at once, I take in the dark, dirty space. It looks like we’re in an abandoned warehouse, which tells me there’s no one around to hear us scream or witness these men dispose of our bodies once they’re done with us. In fact, they’ll probably just wrap us up in the plastic tarps covering the floor beneath us and toss us in the Mississippi River. I can see a body of water faintly through the large industrial windows to my right. Well, I can’t see the water, but I can see small lights on swaying vessels in the distance, which, accompanied with the darkness outside and the taste of copper on my tongue, suggests we are still in New Orleans. The cuts on my lip would’ve scabbed over if enough time had passed to get out of the city. I try to let this tiny assumption calm the twisting in my stomach and steady my breathing.

---