Mac was incensed.
“Boss…I…she…” was sputtered in response, but it was too late.
I hadn’t noticed the two guards standing out in the hallway when I attempted my great escape. Dressed in dark suits and carrying weapons in shoulder holsters, they were massive in size, which would explain why my body felt broken in half. The one who’d pinned me down was now the one on the defensive. He tried to back away slowly, hands raised in surrender, head bowed in defeat, before the first punch was thrown. His co-worker wanted no part of what was about to happen and sidestepped far enough away to avoid being hit by an errand swing. They both appeared scared out of their wits, and from the look in Mac’s eyes, I couldn’t much blame them.
I was afraid for them.
What happened next could only be described as total annihilation from someone who knew how. The well-dressed scoundrel immobilized one of his henchmen around the neck, then proceeded to pummel him with jabs to the face and head. Knee strikes to the chest brought the man down with an audible whoosh, where a final blow to the chin laid him out cold.
Mac never broke a sweat.
He turned his sights to the second man. “Get him the fuck outta my penthouse,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Later, when I have more time, I’ll finish what I started. Consider this your only warning that I’ll be coming for you. Get your affairs in order, gentlemen.”
Holy shit.
Run, Forest, run.
Mac didn’t wait for their response, well, a response, from the only guy able to give one. He swooped down and picked me up from the floor as if I weighed nothing. I sagged into his warm chest and held on tightly around his neck for dear life. I would’ve clung to a tree limb at that juncture. My body’s adrenalin had long since deserted me, and I couldn’t control the seismic tremors that racked my body. The more I thought about what could’ve happened, the tighter I squeezed, until I was sure I’d cut off his airways.
Through chattering teeth, I implored him, “Please, Mac…I …want… to… go… home.”
“I know you do, kitty cat,” he spoke gently in my ear. “It won’t be long now.”
He carried me effortlessly back inside the penthouse and tried unsuccessfully to wrench my arms from around his neck. Convinced that I wasn’t letting go anytime soon, Mac sat down with me in his lap on one of the leather couches. My grip never loosened. My ass was nestled comfortably against his impressive cock. The feel of his taut muscles against my breasts brought me comfort and a sense of safety, yet it wasn’t enough. The silence around us brought forth the tears I had been holding inside since I was body-checked by a man the size of a linebacker. It wasn’t pretty. In fact, it was downright unrestrained once it got going. There was no cool way to avoid saturating Mac’s shirt with streams of snot running from my nose or the bad case of hiccups that followed. In the end, I was totally overwrought with emotion, and if that wasn’t bad enough, I was right back where I’d started from.
A captive held against my will.
An expendable pawn.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. Time became as important to me now as it ever was. Before this ordeal, I measured it the way most young women would on an everyday basis. How long it took to get to Nipsy’s from my apartment, or the last time I made a hair appointment with my stylist, the last time I got laid and by whom, stupid shit like that. Forty-eight hours should’ve been a breeze by comparison, except my day-to-day life didn’t include a dangerous underground fight club owner. Mac was unlike any man I’d ever known—sophisticated, cultured, and sexy beyond belief. But was he a man of his word? Would he really let me go after the fight was over?
“Tell me a story, Mac,” I asked between sniffles, my face buried in the collar of his shirt. His masculine smell was intoxicating.
“It doesn’t have to be earth shattering. Anything to take my mind off all this bullshit. I’m scared.” His muscles stiffened beneath me. “Before you laugh at me again, I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for my friends.”
He took a harsh breath and let it out slowly.
“Why did you run, Otelia? You could have gotten yourself killed if I weren’t there to protect you. Did you think I was bullshitting when I told you the guards were posted at the door?” he barked.
“I forgot about that little tidbit of information,” I confessed. “Now, tell me a story…please.”
“You really are a pain in the ass, you know that?” he grumbled, chest vibrating with frustration.
“It’s your fault for kidnapping me, dingleberry.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, Otelia.” He shifted us slightly, tugging the nape of my neck, which forced me to look into his eyes. My breath caught at their dark intensity, the pinched brow, and the concerned scrutiny as he attempted to gauge my attentiveness. “Tomorrow, when you’re better rested and less…traumatized, we’ll play a game,” he hedged.
That piqued my interest. “What sort of game did you have in mind? Does it involve a string, a can of peaches, and two shot glasses?”
“A can of …what the fuck are you talking about?” he cursed.
“Never mind. Continue with what you were saying.”
“We’ll pretend,” he answered, reaching for a strand of my hair. “I’ll be Darragh, and you’ll be Otelia, two people spending a few short hours together as friends often do. We’ll enjoy a nice breakfast, and who knows, I may even tell you that story you want as long as you promise me, right now, with your ass on my dick, that you won’t try and run away again.”
I thought about what he was asking me to do and the potential ramifications if I chose to accept. The fight was happening—Mac made sure of that when he’d kidnapped me. Twice, I’ve tried to escape, and both times the effort was futile. Just ask my pounding head. I could do this, pretend to be something I wasn’t. People did it every day. So what if he was a mob boss with the power to end me? Maribel and Marcus were doing their part. The least I could do was ease their worry and my own. With that in mind, I extended my hand and made the deal.
“My friends call me Odie, just so you know.”
He took a look at my outstretched hand and smirked triumphantly.
“Pleased to meet you, Odie. Call me Darragh.”
CHAPTER 9
MacCabe
MY SPOTTERS SENT word that Mecken and his boys were still in town, but their women had been ushered off to parts unknown. It was the smart move. The match was hours away, and the distraction wouldn’t have been feasible if he intended to win. My plan was coming together, with the exception of one small detail that had everything to do with the woman getting dressed in the suite next door. I’d made a stupid-ass promise to tell her a story, and when she sighed with contentment, I’d felt a sense of pleasure that I was the one who pacified her thoughts. I had to do something after everything that happened when she tried to escape. Holding her against my chest with her soft ass pressed down on my cock was not it. The final hours were upon us, and this was not the time to be fucking up. After our little chat, I sent her off to bed with an ice pack and two Tylenol for her head. She must’ve really been in pain because she took the pills without any of her usual sassy backtalk or poisoning suspicions. Yay for small victories.