Page 29 of Daddy’s Pursuit (The Daddy Guard #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Iris was more afraid than she’d ever been in her life, and that was saying something.

She’d slept on the streets. Men had chased her, wanting to do awful things to her before. There had been weeks when she’d been afraid she’d die of starvation.

But she’d never been this scared. Ever.

The room they’d locked her in was small and had only a full-size bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and an old file cabinet. It wasn’t a bedroom as they weren’t in a house. The best she could tell, it was some kind of warehouse or industrial building.

The men had made her wear a blindfold during the trip over, so she had no idea where the place was located.

But she estimated it had taken about thirty minutes to get there after leaving the party.

That didn’t really tell her much. LA traffic was thick, even at night, so they might have only traveled two miles.

Or, if they’d caught the streets at a good time, they might have gone ten or fifteen. It was hard to tell.

It didn’t matter. She had no way of contacting Jack and letting him know she’d even been kidnapped.

A sense of dread nearly immobilized her, and she could feel an anxiety attack coming on as she looked around the square room. If there was any silver lining it was that they hadn’t tied her up.

Yet.

She prayed they never would. Then they could… do whatever they wanted to her. Not that she could really stop them now. There were five big guys and she was pretty sure she’d heard even more talking once they’d arrived at the building. With the blindfold still on then, it had been hard to know.

The two guys in the room with her were ones that had been at the party, too.

A shudder wracked her body. She rubbed her arms as if trying to warm up, despite it being hot in the building.

Those two guys watching her gave her the creeps! She’d rather be all alone. At least then they wouldn’t see her cry.

And she was about to. The tears were barely kept at bay as it was.

“The boss has to burn that house now,” the taller, thinner of the two said.

The other man—a stocky guy with a crew cut—said, “Burn like light it on fire?”

“No,” the other one said. “Burn. Like a burner phone. You know, you don’t really light the phone on fire. You just… dump it. Get rid of it and shit.”

A few moments passed. Iris wondered if the men were going to address her, but instead they continued to stand on either side of the closed metal door.

The stocky man shook his head. “Be a shame. Getting rid of that house. The Mamas and the Papas used to party there. That’s what I heard, at least.”

“Who the hell?” The other man had a puzzled look on his face. His protruding Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he spoke. “You talking about Daddies and Mommies there for the Littles? What the hell?”

“No. The group. From the Sixties. They were, like, hippies or whatever. They sang that song about the leaves being brown and shit.”

The lanky fellow spread his hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Brown leaves? Who’d sing a whole song about that?”

“That group, the Mamas and the Papas, did. That’s what I’m saying. But the whole song isn’t about brown leaves. They’re like, hey it’s all gray and shit here. I’m gonna go sleep in California where it’s sunny and stuff.”

The lanky man sighed as he fished his phone from his pocket and began tapping on the screen. “I’m googling this.”

“Yeah. Good. You’ll see what I’m talking about. Dude, everyone knows that song.”

Iris watched as the other one rolled his eyes and continued to stare at his phone. “It’s not sleeping in California. It’s dreaming . The song is called California Dreamin’ .”

“I was close. When do you dream, dumbass?” The stocky man tapped his head, as if wanting his colleague to use his brain and think. “When you sleep. Come on.”

The skinny man put his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. “I don’t give a shit about that song or the Mamas and Papas or whatever.”

“I’m just saying it’s a damn shame to dump that house. It’s historic,” the other guy said. “That’s all. And it’s a good spot to party.”

“Well, it’s gone now. The cops know Frank owns it. He can’t keep it. There are hundreds of houses around town. He’ll get another party pad.” He looked at Iris. “Right now, we just need to keep an eye on her. That’s all we need to worry about.”

When he pushed off the wall, Iris feared he was walking toward her. Instead, though, he turned and opened the door. “I don’t think it takes two of us. You got this?”

The other man nodded. “Get me a chair, will ya?”

“Sit on the bed.”

“She’s sitting on the bed.”

“Sit next to her.”

The stocky man shook his head. “I don’t wanna be creepy.”

“We kidnapped her. We’re holding her here against her will. That’s pretty damn creepy already.”

But the stocky man shook his head more adamantly. “Just bring a chair.”

The other man scoffed as he left. But less than a minute later, he returned with a metal chair. He placed it down without another word and then left, the door clicking ominously closed behind him.

Iris shifted on the bed and then started gently singing “ California Dreamin’ .”

“Yeah. That’s it. That’s the shit I was talking about,” the guy said with a smile. “Hey, you’re a pretty good singer.”

She smiled up at him. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know if he was allowed to answer. Finally, he gave a shrug to no one in particular and said, “Darren.”

“Hi, Darren. I’m Iris.”

He nodded, but again, he looked uncomfortable. And more than a little confused.

“Can you believe he didn’t know that song?” Iris said.

Darren chuckled. “Mike thinks he knows everything. But he doesn't know shit.”

Mike. Darren. Iris would remember those names. She wasn’t sure how they’d help her. She wasn’t even sure she’d get out of this alive. But she assumed the more information she had, the better her chances were.

“Do you know ‘ Monday, Monday’ ?” she asked. “It’s another Mamas and Papas song.”

“Hmm. Maybe. Sing that one.”

She sang a few lyrics.

“Oh, yeah. I remember that one. Man, no one likes Mondays. Right?”

She laughed. “Nobody!”

Darren was smiling as he walked closer. “You ever read Garfield ? You know, that comic? Or watch those cartoons? Man, that cat hated Mondays. He didn’t want any part of that shit.”

“I think so,” she said.

“Maybe a bit before your time,” Darren noted. “I’m probably twenty years older than you.” He stopped before her and looked down. “Hey, how do you know those old songs?”

She smiled. “I was raised by my grandma. Well, for a few years. It’s what she listened to when I was little so they just sort of stuck. I love them now. Makes me feel close to her even though she’s gone.”

It felt strange divulging something so personal to a man who was holding her captive, but it might help the cause. So, she smiled even wider, hoping she was turning up the charm as she patted the bed. “You want to sit?”

Darren again looked uneasy. After a moment of contemplation, he turned around, grabbed the chair, and brought it closer. “I got my own seat. But we can chat, if you want.”

Iris smiled.

This was working out perfectly.

Well, as perfect as being kidnapped could.