Marcus had warned me to watch my back. Why the hell hadn’t I listened?
I can’t breathe without my phone.
The last thing I remembered was walking to my car after my shift, keys in hand, and being approached by two mammoth douchebags inviting me to some asshole’s penthouse. The second they got close, I knew it meant trouble. They were the slimy sort who often came into Nipsy’s looking for more than just a muddy cup of coffee. The dark sunglasses and form-fitting suits only added to their repugnance. They looked ridiculous. No thanks didn’t work, and fuck off was met with a harsh shove that nearly took me to the ground. I started screaming my head off hoping someone would hear and call the cops. Next thing I knew, POW, right in the back of the head. Lights out.
I presumed from the fancy schmancy decor that this had to be where they meant to take me. The size of my accommodations was staggering. I could park a Mack truck in here and still have room to move around. The down duvet and duck feather pillows beneath me felt like heaven against my aching bones. Whoever owned this joint had great taste, if I do say so myself, and was thoughtful even. Next to me on the wooden nightstand were an ice pack, two pain relievers, and a bottle of Perrier water.
A thoughtful kidnapper.
How wonderful.
That hardly made what happened a coincidence—the well-dressed man who came into Nipsy’s demanding money, Marcus turning into a feral beast protecting Maribel, Drew pulling a disappearing act, and my dumb ass being taken off the street. Drew was one hundred percent to blame somehow, of that I was certain. That asshole was a piece of shit and a user, but his punk ass was too low rent for this type of operation. I begged Maribel to dump his ass after the last time he beat her up and stole her purse, but did she listen? Hell no. Up until that point, he was just a grubby little leech, sucking the blood out of his kind-hearted girlfriend. Ever since then, I made it my mission to tell him exactly what I thought about his sorry ass. I wanted him to leave her alone, go away, and never come back.
My best friend had this thing about abandonment that she couldn’t get over, no matter how hard I tried to convince her that Drew was not her chosen one. Marcus Mecken’s reappearance was a good sign; it meant she could finally be rid of that sniveling little prick once and for all. Maribel was too proud to ever borrow money from anyone, including myself, no matter how badly she needed it. If there was a debt owed, it surely belonged to Drew. Wherever he was, I hoped a pack of wild chipmunks attacked him in the woods and chewed his balls off.
If I had any chance of getting out of here alive, I had to use my head and be smart about it. I spent the next hour or so exploring the open floor plan on shaky legs. There were two doors, one leading to the adjoining room; the other I assumed was a way out. To my dismay they were both locked. I cursed myself for thinking it would be that easy. I checked the windows next, which was idiotic considering we were on the top floor. Even if I did somehow manage to get one of them open, I damn sure couldn’t jump, and from this height, no one could hear me scream. The adrenalin and fear caused my head to pound even harder. I lay down across the bed hoping to regroup before I tried again, but somehow, I must’ve fallen asleep. The click of the lock startled me awake, and it took several seconds for my eyes to focus on the dark figure standing above the bed. I scurried as far away as I could without falling off the edge just before the bedside light was switched on. Shocker, my suspicions were confirmed. It was him. The man from the diner.
The dangerous one.
Please let me use my phone.
He grabbed an empty chair and took a seat, one leg crossed over the other, appearing comfortable. Fucking hell, why did the bad guys always have to be so damn handsome? I was far too distracted by Maribel’s announcement that Marcus had returned to really have taken a good look at this man. Weirdly, the first thing that hit me was his smell. A subtle hint of expensive cologne filled my nostrils and instigated a new wave of lightheadedness. Call me crazy, but smells were my thing. It was as sexy and alluring to me as a well-honed physique. Not that this guy had anything to worry about in that department; his body was chiseled to perfection, clear as day even under a layer of clothing. He wore the face of a god, carved with angled lines, high cheekbones, and a perfectly straight nose that suited him impeccably. Hair products alone must’ve set this asshole back a mint. No self-respecting man should have a better mane of hair than the average woman. His dark expressive eyes held a coldness behind them, unreadable to anyone who dared to look deeply within them. His masculine beauty created a wonton chill throughout my body and caused a tense shiver that took me by surprise.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked smugly. His deep growly voice reminded me of the black sludge that sometimes accumulates behind the fryers at Nipsy’s.
“I want my cell phone,” I pleaded.
“I said, do you know who I am?”
“A kidnapping asshole who woke me up from a good dream by acting like a creeper? Do the women in your life find this side of you appealing? Advice, shit for brains, use your knuckles to knock next time, you know, the ones dragging behind you on the ground.”
Nice going, Odie. Piss off the killer, why don’t you.
Using my legs, I pushed as far back to the top of the bed as possible without climbing over the headboard. It wasn’t much, but it gave me the much-needed space of which to strike if this prick decided to lunge for me. He cocked his head to the side, amused, as if to say, “Run, little chicken, run and I’ll catch you.”
“My name is Darragh MacCabe. Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” he crooned. “I must apologize for the manner in which my collogues extended my invitation. I assure you it wasn’t my intention to have you harmed in any way, shape, or form, Otelia. How do you like your accommodations so far? Is there anything you desire to make your stay here more comfortable?”
Geez…he fucked my name with his tongue.
Focus, Odie, focus.
“Yeah, you could give me my cell phone. If that’s too much to ask, you could open the door and let me go, fuckhead. Whatever this is, this… power play you’re trying to pull, trust me, I’m not worth it. Not for nothing, but fucking with a crazy ex-marine might not be the way to go, just saying.” He smirked but didn’t budge.
“I’m afraid none of that is possible. Circumstances, such as they are, require us to remain in each other’s company over the next forty-eight hours. I hope you understand. Clothing, various styles of footwear, as well as toiletries and feminine essentials are at your disposal. Wouldn’t want you to have to stay in that smelly old uniform,” he added casually. “As my guest, your every need will be catered to, you have my word.”
Ask for the phone again, stupid.
Somehow, his word didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies. If anything, it pissed me the hell off. I didn’t ask to be here, and I certainly didn’t agree to be his guest, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. More than ever, I was convinced that Drew had something to do with this. All roads led back to him and his propensity for bullshit. I refused to go down without a fight.
“What damn circumstances are you talking about, Mac? What does any of this have to do with me? I don’t know you, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and I won’t be held prisoner in this luxury cell so some wannabe mob boss can get his rocks off playing warden. I want to go home, and I want to go NOW!”