Page 18 of Stolen

Brooding at my desk,my fingers twitched with fury as I clicked through Jaden’s social media pages. She had hundreds of photos of family, friends, and all the fan-fucking-tastic times she clearly had with them. There were so many photos of her and what I assumed was a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend that I felt like killing him just out of annoyance. Even her younger brothers remained constant in her life.

Dozens of recent posts from her family and friends on her page expressed everything from condolences to well wishes, hoping that Jaden returned to them alive and unharmed. I laughed a little at that. It had never happened before, and she was not about to change it anytime soon.

Judging from her pictures, she was a very active girl. There were photos of her snowboarding, riding a Jet Ski, sparring, rock climbing, drinking, snowmobiling, four-wheeling, shooting, and even riding a motorcycle and dirt bike. There were videos of her competing in world karate competitions, from forms to sparring and even weapons. She dominated with a bo staff – her technique flawless and impressive during her performances. It was clear she was a very well-trained competitor and an excellent performer. This was no girly girl I was dealing with. She liked to live life on the edge, but only just a little.

It was ridiculous how much information social media alone gave up on a person. I knew where Jaden worked, how long she’d been there, where she went to school, what degrees she had, who her friends and family were, and even her future plans all before I’d gone through her medical records, employment records, tax records, and anything else that had her name attached to it.

Her email was filled with all kinds of junk from every sporting goods store imaginable, newsletters from gun manufacturers, some banking information, and to my surprise, a few were from some cosmetic stores and clothing departments. Maybe she was feminine conscious after all.

Her credit was perfect aside from the mortgage, car, motorcycle, and a massive pile of student loans she had under her belt. Law school was not cheap. She worked as a paralegal at a prominent law firm in downtown Detroit and made decent money for her age. Her grades were decent even during her undergraduate years. She graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor’s degree in psychology with a minor in political science from Wayne State University. Smart girl.

But her medical records held the most color. She had been in and out of the emergency room for snowboarding and motorbike accidents when she was younger but seemed to calm down as she got older. She had her wisdom teeth and tonsils removed as well. Aside from that, no known allergies or current diseases. Her family did have a history of depression, which concerned me for some reason.

As far as her family was concerned, her dad passed away from cancer four years ago, but her mom seemed to be in good health. Her two younger brothers were still in high school, while her mom worked as a hairdresser. It looked like she had distant family scattered across the country, but no one she seemed particularly close with besides a cousin or two.

Her criminal history was almost spotless. She had been arrested for assault and battery two years ago against some guy in Macomb County, but the charges were dropped when she claimed self-defense. She had broken two of his ribs as well as his nose. How incredibly unsurprising.

As far as her driving record went, it was also spotless. Not even a parking ticket. She owned a black Dodge Challenger as well as a1299 Panigale Superbike. Damn, she had good taste. Most of the women I knew could barely drive, and this one was operating all kinds of fun toys.

Jaden also had a concealed weapons permit and owned a nice little Sig P238 handgun, but apparently, she wasn’t that good of a shot since she didn’t hit even one of my men. She should have gone with the 938. At least it shot nines.

And that was the extent of Scott’s informative skills as a private investigator.

On the surface, Jaden Wilder appeared like a typical backyard bitch with a need for speed, a love of adrenaline, and an attraction to danger. She wore her no-nonsense attitude on her sleeve and displayed the kind of arrogance I’d killed lesser men for. But that was just the surface. What other little treasures would I find buried deep under that porcelain skin of hers?

I sat back in my chair, staring at a single photo of Jaden on my screen, and felt my chest tighten. She had an intoxicatingly beautiful smile, and the amber color in her eyes warmed me from the inside out. I wondered how much longer it would be before she acted out again. How many hits could her pride take before she finally retaliated? She would not give in to me so easily, but I relished a good challenge. And when the time finally came for her to really break down and surrender, it would be a most victorious day.

Noticing the time, I grabbed the shit I needed for my special little accounting department to confirm the accounts for the auction and headed out of my office. I had spent enough time on this girl already, and it was time for her to move on to the next phase.

* * *

As we exited the room,my legs felt wobbly and every step ached, but I carried on toward the elevator with the guard pulling me alongside him. But as soon as we got to the elevator, the last person I ever wanted to see walked out of their office.

Fear, rage, and repulsion gripped me at the throat while I battled with myself to ignore his presence, but with each thundering step, I knew he wasn’t going to afford me the privilege. The second his eyes found mine, a smile stretched across his face.

“Well, look at you,” he said as he sauntered closer. “Somebody must have finally behaved if they earned themselves a pretty little dress.”

I turned to him, narrowing my eyes, and smirked. “I figured your men could use a break.” I was such an idiot, but I just couldn’t help myself. For some dumbass reason, I wanted him to know he hadn’t won just yet.

“Shut it!” the guard shouted, smacking me upside the head. I hunched, but my eyes remained on the owner.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop tauntinghim, you dipshit.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The guard pushed me inside, and he and the owner followed me in. As soon as the doors closed, the owner handed a folder to the guard and instantly pushed me into the corner by my throat, slamming my head against the elevator wall.

I didn’t react as his massively solid body pressed into mine, once again trapping me in place.I was already tired of feeling small and helpless, but combined with my rage from the memory of our last brutal encounter, it made my entire body shake in instant aggravation.

Releasing my throat, he gently placed both of his hands on my shoulders as he felt my body tense. His musky scent filled my nostrils as it mixed with the air I was now trying to suck down.

“You’re shaking,” the owner said smoothly. “Scared, little slave?”

Fuck, if I wasn’t about to shove his nose through his brain this very second.

“Do not make the mistake of confusing my rage for fear,” I countered just as smoothly. “I am not afraid, just really pissed off.”

It was the eye contact I made that actually sold it.

Instantly, his hand struck back for my throat, clasping around it like a vise and robbing me of all thought. My hand clutched and pulled uselessly at his wrist as I attempted to dig my fingers under the meat of his thumb to pry him off me.

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