Page 1 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“Oh my God,Wendy, darling, it’s been a while. How are you?” Eamon answered his phone, and Bel froze, coffee pot in hand. It was a bright but cool Monday morning, fall only just stretching its legs, and she’d woken to her six-foot-five dark protector breaking into her cabin to watch her sleep. A year ago, Eamon Stone’s actions would have terrified her, undoubtedly resulting in her putting a bullet between his eyes for illegally entering her house. But now? Now the man with the death-black eyes and the questionable morals was her greatest source of security. His presence wrapped her in safety and warmth… and something else she wasn’t ready to admit, but it was there all the same, burning inside her like a forest fire. It was only a matter of time before it consumed everything in its path, which was why shestared at him with wide eyes as he called another woman darling. Just seconds ago, he’d slid his large hands possessively around her bare thighs. She was dressed in only his tee shirt, her revealing choice of pajamas still smelling of him. She’d taken to wearing his clothes to bed after Abel Reus had kidnapped her. For weeks, she’d lived chained in a basement, forced to wear his deceased mother’s nightgowns. Bel had escaped after overpowering her kidnapper, only to run straight into Eamon, her dog, and her father’s arms. The nightmares had returned after that. Only they weren’t of teeth. They were of dead girls in the woods, and while therapy combined with the support of her family and the town had helped, it was Eamon’s scent on his shirts that guarded her nights. He’d been attempting to convince her to stay with him, leaving his clothes with her when she refused, but watching him extricate himself from under Cerberus, clearly signaling this call was private, had her heart thundering in her chest.

“Hold on, say that again.” He stepped outside, slamming the door behind him, and Bel glared at his back through the window as he walked away. Who was on the phone that he needed to hide his conversation? Why had he answered so kindly when he rarely spoke warmly to anyone, and why was she so ungodly jealous that he’d referred to that Wendy woman as darling? Bel didn’t get jealous. She didn’t own Eamon. They weren’t even a couple, but no matter how she tried to convince herself they weren’t stitched together by fate, his words flooded her memory.

“You are mine Isobel Emerson. Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine. Just as I am yours. You own me with a fierceness you’ll never understand. I swore to you that no one would harm you, and I never intend to break that oath.”

By his own confession, he did belong to her, and Bel shoved the coffee pot back onto the hot plate and moved closer to the window. She blamed the curiosity on her detective instincts tojustify spying, and she leaned as close to the glass as she could without falling into the sink. Eamon was pacing by his car, a sleek black vehicle that doubtlessly cost more than her yearly salary, and it struck her as odd that he’d driven to her home. She lived on the outskirts of Bajka, but her cabin bordered the woods that eventually connected to his mansion on the Reale Estate. He was currently renovating the historic house, owning half the town with his purchase of the property, and normally he ran through the trees to watch over her. Had he expected Wendy to call? Was he waiting for her to summon him? Was Bel really acting like a jealous girlfriend by practically climbing onto the counter to spy on him?

“Cerberus?” She turned to her dog, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Your mother has gone and lost her mind.” She cupped his meaty face as if he understood her words, and he wagged his tail enthusiastically to perpetuate the charade. “What are we going to do with me? Hmmm?” The pitbull wagged his tail harder, and she kissed him between the eyes. “I do not know, but I know what I need to do with you. I need to get you…” She posed in front of him like she was at a race’s starting line, and Cerberus barked in excitement, dancing on the wood floor with a happy tippy-toe rhythm at what was coming. “Breakfast!” Bel shouted, and the two of them raced around the kitchen in a celebratory frenzy. No matter what happened in her life, Cerberus always made the world infinitely better, and as detective and dog danced throughout the single-room cabin, Bel forgot her jealousy. She didn’t need to worry. She already had a man, and he was perfect.

“Isobel.” The door’s hinges groaned as it burst open, and both Bel and Cerberus recoiled at the sudden intrusion. “I…” Eamon ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, the lighter color intimidating when combined with his slightly pale skin and black eyes. He was impossibly tall and sinfully handsome, buthis features were just unusual enough to inspire fear. At first glance, he looked the part of a successful businessman, but if one stared too closely, they would see the predator contained within his human flesh.

“I have to go,” he said, his tone unreadable, and he slammed the door behind him before Bel could open her mouth. Eamon was a master at concealing his thoughts and emotions, Bel the only person he allowed to peek behind the veil, and his sudden disappearance warned that Wendy’s call had rattled him.

Bel crossed the kitchen to where her phone sat charging and unlocked it, clicking on Eamon’s text thread. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as her brain argued with her heart. She longed to know what had ripped him from her side, but if Eamon wanted her to know, he would’ve told her. This was clearly something he didn’t want her involved in, so she placed the cell face down on the table to avoid temptation.

“Right, breakfast. Sorry, baby beast.” She turned back to Cerberus, smiling at the sight of him standing in front of the cabinet that hid his food. She scratched his head as she pulled open the door, laughing as he tapped the container with his nose. “Patience, buddy. It’s still early. I’m not starving you.” He looked at her like she was, indeed, starving him.

“It’s a good thing I love you so much because you’re a needy diner.” Bel placed his bowl on the floor, and Cerberus snorted as he dug in. “Is that yummy?” she asked, and he wagged his tail at her voice, face still buried in the bowl. “Breakfast actually sounds like a good idea. Let me eat, then we’ll go for a walk.”

Bel scanned the pantry shelves before pulling a loaf of bread down, but as she turned toward the toaster, her front door flew open again. She flinched as Eamon stormed back into her home, but he didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he strode for her dresser and opened her drawers, knowing exactly where she kept each article of clothing. Within seconds, he’d selected anoutfit, undergarments and all gripped in his massive hands, and he shoved them into her arms as he snatched the bread from her fist.

“Get dressed,” he ordered. His voice wasn’t cruel, but the firmness settled fear in Bel’s gut. Something was wrong. Something had her unshakeable beast on edge, and she accepted the clothes without a word. The gravity of his tone warned her not to argue, and as she stepped into the bathroom, she had a nagging suspicion she was in danger.

Bel took a five-minute shower, opting not to wash her brunette curls for the sake of time, then dressed quickly. The outfit Eamon chose gave her pause. It was a pair of black jeans and a black hoodless sweatshirt, the leather patches on the shoulders and elbows adding a hint of fashion to the comfort. The garment was large, swallowing her form whole, but there had been a reason he selected this top. He wanted to hide her body, something he normally never cared about, and the feeling that she was in danger washed over her again.

Bel emerged from the bathroom and grabbed her boots as she walked to the kitchen, an odd noise disturbing the silence. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Here.” Eamon shoved a coffee thermos at her along with a slice of peanut butter toast, and she understood what she was hearing. Seemed that even in times of stress, Eamon was a sucker for her dog. He’d given Cerberus a bite of peanut butter, and the pitbull sat in the kitchen's corner, smacking his overstuffed lips with spoiled satisfaction.

“I took him outside,” Eamon said as he ushered her out the door and toward his car, locking the cabin up behind them before handing her the keys, her wallet, and her phone. “I noticed his bowl on the floor, so I know he ate, but I gave him a snack to help hold him over.”

Bel smirked at his use of the word snack, knowing it had been a heaping spoonful based on how loud Cerberus had been licking. She’d tried not to like Eamon at the beginning. Lord, how she had tried, but Cerberus was the way to her heart, and Eamon’s affection for the creature she loved most had destroyed her walls. She knew something was wrong. Eamon gripped the steering wheel so hard his pale knuckles turned white as he sped off into the morning. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t touch her or speak to her. Every second she spent in his presence was normally a second where he found ways to connect them, but his sudden distance spoke louder than his words. Something was happening, but as nervous as she was, she couldn’t help but care for the man who cared for her beloved dog.

“Eat,” he said as he aimed the car away from town.

“In your car?” The vehicle was immaculate, and some men panicked when their cars were disturbed. How was she supposed to eat inside such a masterpiece?

“Where else would you eat?” he asked, pushing their speed too fast, and Bel prayed none of her fellow deputies were on this road to pull them over.

“I don’t want to make a mess.”

“Isobel, I don’t care if you got peanut butter on your fingers and then wiped it on the seat.” His hand left the steering wheel to grip her thigh, and the sudden contact flooded her chest with relief. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d grown to his constant touch until he removed it, and she refused to admit it out loud, but Bel craved his skin against hers. She longed to be connected to him, to be a part of him.

“I care more if you’re hungry,” he continued, squeezing her thigh to emphasize his words. “If you don’t eat, you’ll feel ill, and I can’t focus if you aren’t well.”

Bel took a big bite of her toast, feeling Eamon relax through their connection, and they drove in silence as she finished herbreakfast. His demeanor told her not to push, that he would tell her what this was about when he was ready, so she sipped her coffee and watched the blurred scenery race by. She had no idea where he was taking her; recognizing none of the roads that he raced down, but eventually, he turned down a private drive. It was a gorgeous, winding road, lined by perfectly cultivated trees, but the greenery was nothing compared to the mansion they parked before.

Bel’s mouth fell open at the view. The manor was a monstrosity of wealth and opulence, making the Reale Estate look like a shack in comparison. The sheer size of the house was overwhelming, and she’d never witnessed anything so glorious. It was as if a castle had magically sprouted here in the middle of nowhere, and she felt wildly underdressed in her jeans and sweatshirt.

Eamon opened her car door, his urgency waking her from her awe, and helped her out of the vehicle before extending her service weapon. Bel hadn’t seen him remove it from the gun safe. She kept her personal sidearm in a bedside table drawer for emergencies, but he’d grabbed her issued weapon. Somehow, he’d figured out the safe code, but that was the least of her worries. Why did he want her armed with her service weapon? What were they walking into?

“Isobel.” Eamon shoved it into her grip as he guided her hand behind her back, making it clear he wanted her to hide the gun, and his outfit choice made sudden sense. No one would know she was carrying with the sweatshirt hanging loose on her body. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay.” She nodded, and he slipped his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together.

“Under no circumstances are you to reveal you’re a police officer.”

Bel nodded, realizing she forgot to grab her badge when they left the cabin, and it seemed Eamon had purposely left it behind when he packed her belongings. She suddenly felt naked without its authority. What were they walking into that required her to hide what she was?

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