Page 51

“ A hh,” I moan as I twist my head and pop the crick in my neck. My shoulders are killing me. But when I try to pull my arms down from above my head, they don’t move. And when I try to bend my legs, they don’t move either.

What the fuck is going on?

I look around, but all I see is darkness. I twist my head back the other way, but I still see nothing, and it’s a slow movement. Something’s off about me. None of this makes sense.

I look again, but it’s only at that moment that I understand my eyes are still closed. I try to pry them open with sheer willpower, but nothing. I feel my cheeks lift as I move my eyebrows, and my sluggish brain connects that my eyes are taped shut. Someone doesn’t want me to see what’s going on.

I should be panicking. And I am, but in my own way.

I force my brain to quiet the noise of internal screaming for help.

My mouth isn’t taped, so I lick my dry lips.

Okay, I can speak. What else can I do? I can wiggle my fingers and toes, but I can’t move my arms or legs.

I try again, and this time I’m getting my brain on board enough to understand I’m cuffed in every direction.

They have a little give, but if I struggle too hard, they’ll cut into my skin .

I feel a breeze on my face but nowhere else, so I’m still clothed. Doubt I’m even out of my sweats, but I know my shoes are off, just not my socks.

I’m lying on something soft, and I’m guessing it’s a bed.

How cliché.

Of course my stalker would get me into a bed. I just have to hope I haven’t been out too long for him to plan our wedding. Which I’m sure is next on his list.

Step one, secure bride.

Step two, force bride into marriage.

Step three, die by bride’s hand.

At least that’s my plan.

I know Domino’s coming for me, but I hope to be out of this mess before he even knows I’m gone.

I pull and twist, doing everything I can without having a clue what anything looks like. It seems like hours pass, and I let out a frustrated groan at the lack of progress I’ve made.

“I love it when you make that sound.”

My body freezes, and fear trickles down my back. I didn’t think I was scared of anything. I mean, I’ve been kidnapped, and I wasn’t even freaking out. Till he spoke.

How long has he been there? Is he in the room with me, or was it just over a speaker? What’s he going to do since I can’t move? I can’t defend myself. Hell, I can’t even find a weakness in him since I can’t see him. He could be anywhere in here, wherever here is.

I wait for him to talk again. Now that I know I’m not alone, even if it’s just over a speaker, I refuse to move till he speaks and gives me something to work with. A sign that he’s moving around the room. An indication of what he plans to do next. A freaking clue as to who he is. And what he wants.

Other than me. I already figured that part out.

“They told me not to get you. That you would be too much trouble. But I know it’s not that they were worried about the fight you would put up. They were worried I wouldn’t let them sell you. And they were right.”

He’s somewhere toward my feet. Pretty far from the sound of it, but definitely in the room with me. I don’t recognize his voice, nothing that makes him special enough for me to figure this out. No accent or lisp to distinguish him from another.

I don’t want to ask, but I’m curious. I want to know why he picked me.

Why I’m the one being stalked. Honestly, there’s nothing about me that makes me different from others out there.

There are prettier underground fighters.

Blonder ones. Taller ones. A million things that could make them a better choice.

You don’t get to choose who you like, Viv.

I swear my inner voice is rolling her eyes at me. I mean, she’s not wrong. You like who you like. If it was so simple to just like someone else, no one would have heartache. No one would be jealous. Hell, there would be no stalkers.

But that isn’t how life is. You fall for who you fall for. Most of the time, you have no idea it’s coming. Have no clue when it’ll happen or how. You just wake up one day and bam , Domino’s important to you.

I gulp and shiver at the thought of him. I miss him. I clench my hands because I need to remind myself that I can do this. I’m strong and capable. I can figure this out.

But I wouldn’t hate it if he burst in right now and saved the day. You know, saving me the time of having to do it myself.

I give it an extra minute before I realize it’s wishful thinking. He might come, eventually, but not right now. And since I seem to be stuck and not going anywhere myself, I might as well try to figure out what the hell is going on.

“Who’s they?”

“Naughty, naughty. Tut, tut, tut, princess. Ask nicely.”

I grit my teeth. I really hate it when people call me princess.

No idea when it started, but we all have a word that just grinds our gears.

Some hate the word moist or cunt . I’ve got no issue with those.

But comparing me to a stuck-up girl who needs someone to figure out her life so she can be waited on hand and foot? Yuck. Double yuck.

I bite my tongue to keep from telling him off. Mostly because I’ve got no leg to stand on, literally, to argue for him to talk to me in a way that doesn’t make me want to vomit.

“Please tell me who they are.”

He sighs with happiness. “I just knew you’d take direction well. Such a good girl, aren’t you, my princess?” I hear him move, and I tense. I can only imagine where he’s going.

I wait. I listen. He makes very little noise. Not enough for me to know what direction he’s going, just that he’s moving.

“They”—I jump at the sound of his voice right next to my ear—“are bad people. People who hunt and hurt others.”

“And you… you’re not bad people?”

Please say no. Please say no.

“I was. ”

Fuck. Yes, he is. Of course he’s bad, Viv. He killed Shovel, remember?

“I was just like them. We worked together. They found a target, and I tracked the target. Then others would take the target.”

Is this human trafficking? Is he part of the group that took those missing people I heard about on the news and radio a few months back?

Not a ton were taken, but enough to be newsworthy for a minute or two.

Some said they were just runaways. Others cried for their loved ones and begged whoever took them to bring them back.

The news stopped reporting it, so I assumed it was done.

Either people stopped being taken, or the police put a stop to it.

But what if it only stopped because the tracker was only interested in one person?

In me?

“Who was the target?”

His hand touches my arm and moves down. Never touching the important bits, but still gliding over me like he has a right to touch me.

“It changed. Men, women, children. Whoever they asked for.” His hand slides back up my body, and his knuckles caress my face.

Then I feel his breath on my cheek as if he leaned in.

“But don’t worry, princess. You were never a target for them.

Only for me. And I’ll make sure no one harms you.

You’re my girl now.” He kisses my cheek as I flinch away.

I lose his touch as if he stands back up. “You’re being rude, and it’s not that attractive. ”

“What makes you think I’m trying to attract you?” I’m genuinely curious. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to think I clapped back at him or threw attitude.

“I know it’ll take time for you to come around. I understand that. It’s only natural. It’ll take time, and I have that. We have all the time in the world now.”

“Why now? Because you took me?”

“Took you? No. It’s because I protected you.”

“Protected?”

“I got rid of the driver who would have tried to take you from me. I also got rid of the muscle who would have incapacitated you. They tried to stop me. They tried to get to you before I could save you. They wanted you gone so I would be their puppet again. They tried to take you. But you’re my girl.

You fought for me. You didn’t let them drug you and take you from me. ”

My head is reeling. Was the limo incident me almost getting kidnapped and sold? Were the driver and the escort guy both in on it? And when he said muscle, does he mean who I think?

“Did you kill Dozer?”

“Yes, princess, I did. She was meant to weaken you but my girl is stronger than she looks. Dozer needed to be taught a lesson. And I’m sorry it took me so long to come and save you that night.

I was dealing with her. She took too long to die, but I had to make sure she wasn’t going to come after you again.

If I had just shot her like I wanted and not planned the whole hit-and-run so no one noticed I injected her with enough insulin to kill her, I would have been able to get to you before the dirty dogs did. ”

The way he speaks of the Hounds, I can feel his hatred without even looking at his face.

I bet he’s snarling at the idea of someone else coming to my rescue.

Not that I needed one. And if the guy who drugged me was part of it, then I bet he’s doubly pissed that Domino ended his life and he didn’t.

This guy seems just sick enough to hate that he didn’t get the kill himself.

“Why did they want me?”

“I’ve been watching over you for years. At first I didn’t care, but you smiled at me.

You saw me. Few see me. That’s why I knew you were meant for me.

I was getting close, and they thought I was getting sloppy.

It wasn’t my fault that they already got shit fucked up on their end when they were drawing the heat.

But they put the blame on me. I knew I had to act to keep you safe.

Once I saw your escort was Roy Baner, I knew they were making a play for you. I kept you safe, baby. You’re welcome.”

He rubs his hand over my head in what I’m sure he thinks is a loving action, but again, I just want to barf. I try not to flinch away this time, but I can’t control my face, and I know it’s giving a look of disgust.