Page 45 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

Kristi

W orry gnaws my belly as I shoulder my way through the thick crowd of people, trying not to scream.

Why is this casino so crowded? Granted, it’s a Saturday night, but I don’t understand the neon, get-rich-quick attraction.

Then again, I’ve never liked gambling. But that doesn’t matter now.

My cousin Sammie does. The girl is barely eighteen.

And she went missing last night.

Early this morning, my aunt Tammy called frantically and asked for my help in finding her daughter. Sammie disappeared here, at a concert she came to with friends. It should have been fine. She was in a group. They were in public. But she went to the restroom between bands…and never returned.

Worry knots me. Sammie is young and impulsive, but she’s never been the kind of kid who looks for trouble.

Sure, it’s possible she saw another pal or met someone new.

But it would be completely out of character for her to ditch her friends without a word.

Even more unlike her not to call her mother all night long.

When she left the house, her phone battery was full, so it shouldn’t have given out.

With every passing minute, I get more concerned. If I let myself imagine all the things that could befall her in Vegas, I’ll lose my shit. I can’t imagine what my aunt Tammy is going through. Sammie is her only daughter.

But at this point, I’m terrified the worst has happened.

I grab a passing employee’s sleeve, shoving my phone with a picture of Sammie in his face. “Excuse me. Were you working last night? Did you see this girl?”

He glances at the screen, then quickly shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. “Sorry.”

He pushes forward. The crowd swallows him up. I fight to keep my composure.

I’d follow the waiter and demand his help, but he’s the third employee I’ve questioned. Each dismissed—more like dodged—me when I asked about Sammie. What the heck is going on?

Hotel security wasn’t any more helpful. They said they would only work with me once the police deemed this a missing-persons case. Until then, they consider Sammie an adult, having adult fun in a haven built for just that purpose.

As I snake through the throng of people, pushing against the flow of bodies, I scan everywhere for my cousin’s long, dark waves and sunny smile.

Nothing. Her last text to her mother said she was having a great time and that she and her friends planned to get some food after the concert.

That was twenty-two hours ago. No one has heard from her since.

A few feet away, I spot a cluster of stairs that lead to some high-roller slots. I twist my way to them, climbing to the top for a better view, then turn to scan the vast expanse of the casino. My stare makes it halfway across the room before I feel eyes on me.

It’s ominous. A warning.

The unease rolling through my stomach turns to fear.

Is the someone who’s responsible for whatever happened to Sammie watching me, determined to make sure I don’t find her?

Quickly, I whip out my phone to text someone my location. But who? Aunt Tammy has enough on her plate. Most of my friends are back in Dallas. But I didn’t tell any of them that I hopped a last-minute flight to Vegas to help locate Sammie.

If I disappeared, too, no one would know where to start looking.

Those are crazy thoughts, right? I need to calm down. Sure, I came here alone, but who would really try to shut me up for asking a few questions about a missing girl?

Writing off my disquiet to paranoia seems logical…

but I still feel eyes on me. Again, I skim the crowd.

I don’t see anyone staring, but something tugs my gaze up, to a band of dark, mirrored glass that rims the edge of the dropped ceiling.

Above it is clearly another level, one not open to the public.

At first glance, I assume the casino hides their security cameras there. Now I suspect it’s hiding people, too.

My heart pounds. Even though I’m standing in the midst of a crowd, I suddenly feel as if I’m in danger.

Quickly, I dash off a text with my location and situation to Sophie Larsen, my bestie since grade school—not to mention one of the biggest pop stars on the planet.

It would be better if she was in Vegas, too, and I doubt she’s still awake to look at her phone, but she’s the only person I trust one hundred percent.

It also doesn’t hurt that she’s married to a small-town police chief.

Rand is the perfect guy for her—protective, smart, brave, and badass…

yet totally caring. He’s head-over-heels for Soph, who feels the same about him. I’m happy for them both.

Too bad Ridge wasn’t anything like his big brother .

He was a one-night mistake I’ve been hoping to forget. Unfortunately, that’s impossible. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with that later. Sammie first.

Suddenly, I spot a pair of suits heading in my direction, one tall and round and looking as if the lights upstairs aren’t quite on.

The other is on the diminutive side, but with a tough-guy demeanor that says he means business.

They’re wearing identical scowls. Instantly, I know they’re coming for me.

I glance around for someplace to escape, but it’s a dead end. They’ve got me cornered.

“Miss.” The big one settles his hand around my elbow. “You need to come with us.”

Not happening. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just looking for someone.”

“While harassing our employees and disturbing other guests,” Shortie barks.

“Then I’ll leave.” I try to yank my arm from the tall lug’s grasp.

He’s not budging.

Shortie leans into my face. “You’ll come with us. We have a few things to say.”

“People know where I am,” I blurt. It’s almost true.

That gives the tall one pause. He looks to Shortie for answers.

The smaller, meaner man shrugs. “We just want to have a conversation, miss. You’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”

My BS meter is pealing. “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you want me to move from this spot, you’ll have to carry me out and I will scream at the top of my lungs.”

“I don’t advise making this more difficult.”

“Or what?”

“We might have some information about the girl you’re looking for. We’d rather not discuss it on the floor. Do you want it or not?”

If I wasn’t suspicious that they had something to do with Sammie’s disappearance, sure. “Whatever you have to tell me, you can say right here.”

The tall one gets impatient, crushing my elbow with his meaty fingers. “Look, bitch?—”

“Rudy, get your hand off the lady. Sal, shut up. I’ll take it from here.”

At the sound of that familiar voice, head-to-toe chills cover me. I wanted to hear it again. I’ve needed to. Heck, I’ve ached to. But I didn’t expect to hear it here. I especially didn’t expect him to know these two thugs who might have had something to do with my cousin’s disappearance.

Gasping, I stare into the face of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, Ridge Garrison. I remember every minute I spent with him, every inch of his skin, every tattoo, every glance from his dark eyes, every kiss he pressed to my mouth, and every orgasm he gave me.

He looks right through me like I’m a stranger.

“Get lost, Rafael,” Shortie sneers. “We got her. And we know what to do.”

Rafael?

He raises a thick, dark brow. “I said to get your hand off her. I outrank you boys, and the boss put me in charge. Step away.”

What the hell is going on? I want to scream at Ridge.

Nine weeks ago, he left my bed before I woke—without saying goodbye.

He never called. He never asked about me.

He just walked away like I didn’t matter at all.

But instinct and this power struggle I don’t understand between him and the two thugs tell me to shut my mouth… for now.

“Paulie will hear about this,” Shortie finally snaps.

“I don’t care, Sal. Get the fuck out of my face. And if you want to keep yours looking the way it is, stay out.”

“When you least expect it, I’m going to double-tap you in the head, Harvard.”

Ridge looks unmoved by that threat. “You don’t have an army big enough for that. And the boss would rip you a new asshole. You and your lapdog go.” He gestures them away with a wave of his long, capable fingers. “Before I decide to make this ugly.”

Sal turns to the big guy with a jerk of his head. Rudy gives me one last squeeze that I know will leave bruises, then releases me with a leer that promises he’s not done touching me yet.

I shudder as they walk away, then turn back to Ridge. We’re alone now. I want answers. “What the hell is going on?”

Ridge takes my arm in his grip. “You shouldn’t be here. Turn around, march your sweet ass to the door, and get the fuck out.”

“No.”

He grits his teeth, his strong jaw working. “You need to leave. Now. Trust me.”

I barely refrain from laughing hysterically.

“Why? I barely know you. And I don’t know this version of you at all, Rafael.

” I flip my hand toward the thick, tamed waves of his hair, the super-sleek suit, wing-tips, and gangster attitude.

“After what happened between us, I definitely don’t trust you. So I’m going to resume my search for?—”

“You’re not,” he growls as he tugs me against his body.

He’s hard—every single inch of him.

The answering chord of desire that gongs through me is a betrayal.

No. He had his chance that night with me, and he left without either a word or a backward glance. I owe him nothing now, especially not my compliance.

“You can’t stop me.”

Ridge’s black stare turns angry. “I’m fucking going to make sure you leave. You’ll thank me later.”

As if .

I dig in my heels. “Touch me again, and I will scream the roof of this place down.”

In the back of my head, I know my threat is ridiculous.

I would have already done it when Sal and Rudy accosted me if I thought it would do any good.

But I’m well aware that between the crowd noise, the clanging slots, and the beginning set of a nearby lounge band, that virtually no one would hear me.

The curse that falls from Ridge’s mouth is furious and ugly. It’s all I can do not to cringe.

“Yo!” A tall, menacing suit barrels toward us.

He looks right past Ridge, who turns to address the threat, and focuses on my breasts.

No one is more shocked than me when Ridge steps in front of me protectively. “I got this handled.”

“You don’t,” the man says. “We’re about to have a scene. No one wants that.”

Ridge stiffens. “Give me a minute, Paulie. I’ll get her the hell out of here.”

“The boss has another idea, this weekend being busy and all. But you know that because you’ve been put in charge of the operation.”

I don’t understand those words precisely, but I understand two things: the veiled threat in Paulie’s tone and the fact that, as soon as he utters those words, fury pours off Ridge.

He shakes his head. “To your point, we’re attracting too much attention.”

“The boss has spoken.” The other guy nods toward the observation floor above the casino I noticed earlier.

I see a lone man standing, watching, hands clasped behind his back. Even from here, I feel his malice.

Shit, I don’t know what I’ve stepped in the middle of, but I’m in over my head.

“Fine,” I spit. “I’ll go.” I don’t know what I’ll tell Aunt Tammy, but the police will hopefully jump on this case in the next couple of hours. Maybe I can share everything I’ve discovered with them so they can find Sammie fast.

“Good riddance,” Ridge growls. “Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

Paulie reaches past him to wrap a meaty fist around my arm. “Not so fast.”

My heart leaps to my throat before screeching to a stop.

“Take your fucking hand off of her before I break it,” Ridge threatens.

“Then get her to the eighth floor. Boss’s orders. You got ten minutes. And you better not make a scene.” With a sly, satisfied grin, Paulie turns away.

Ridge stiffens to something like unbendable steel when he whirls on me and grabs my hand. “Goddamn it. You just couldn’t leave when I told you to. C’mon.”

When he tugs, I shake my head. “What’s on the eighth floor?”

“I can’t explain it here. We’re being watched. Fuck.” He grabs my shoulders. “Now you have to come with me. And it’s going to get ugly.”