Page 47

Gwen

F ear shot through me, chest tight, as I realized that I couldn’t move, see, or talk. I recalled the needle.

Just like last time, someone had cornered me, injected me with drugs, and I’d woken up bound, blindfolded and gagged.

For a moment I sat there frozen, unable to even breathe.

Lucius had found me. Again. Hadn’t he? Once again, he was jealous that I was with someone that wasn’t him. I’d pay for it. Again. Terror wrapped around my chest, binding me tighter than the elastics securing my hair on competition day.

No. He’s dead. He can’t get you anymore.

But part of me wouldn’t have it. If it wasn’t him, it was the dads. They were sick of me disgracing the family. Yet again. This time publicly. I’d wake up in my room and this time it would have bars on the windows and locks on the door. They’d hide me away, like the beta fuckup I was.

No. The dads were never the bad guy.

But if not them, who? The bottom fell out of my stomach. Once again, no one would come for me, until it was too late.

If they even came for me at all.

They probably didn’t know I was missing. Or care.

I couldn’t scream. Move. See.

Fear of him getting me again consumed me. If anyone was still alive, it would be Lucius. He’d succeed now, and no one could help me.

The panic wrapped around me tighter, cutting off that voice, binding me, until it consumed me completely and there was nothing left but terror.

My chest hurt badly. My mouth was dry. I…

Panic rose as it hit me. I’d been taken. Taking a breath, I tried to push the panic down. I couldn’t let it incapacitate me. Time was of the essence, and so was attention to details. Which meant I needed to ground myself and get my shit together.

What things can you feel?

I felt the ropes binding my wrists and my feet. The tight ropes were rough, not soft, which was comforting. But I wasn’t at a point to unpack that. The panic was too close, and I needed to keep that at bay.

Whatever was under me was a little slippy. Definitely I was sitting up. We were moving, and it was bumpy.

What can you taste?

My mouth tasted dry and nasty. I was also gagged, probably with cloth.

What can you hear?

I didn’t hear any voices or breathing. There was a whirring of motors. The bumps stopped, but we were still moving. We were slowing down, though.

So we were in a car or on a train or something? But then it would make sense to take me away.

What could I smell?

That didn’t help, because there were lots of scents, mostly sour or burning and my beta nose couldn’t pick out enough to know if I was alone or not.

The panic was fading enough for me to know I needed to be cautious. I didn’t want anyone to know I was awake yet. Though I was pretty sure I was blindfolded and a tiny fluttering of my eyelashes confirmed it.

Shit. I was tied up. Gagged. Blindfolded. I was who-knew-where, with who-knew-who. They most likely took my phone, so how would anyone be able to find me?

Focus. I pushed down the panic. Breathe.

I took a few yoga breaths. I needed to keep my head. While I loved my guys, I wasn’t sure they even knew how to fight outside the rink, let alone save my ass. They’d go to the police, but I knew how that went last time.

Which meant I had to save myself.

Whatever we were in slowed to a complete stop. I had to stay calm. Keep focused. Channel anger instead of fear. Fucking shit, I’d been kidnapped again. The terror was a lot closer than the anger, and I shook a little. It had to be the Deloittes, right?

But the thought wasn’t particularly helpful. They might not have the political power and connections Lucius’ family had. But you didn’t have that sort of money, run that sort of manufacturing empire, without some measure of influence.

Influence that would buy media silence, the police, or even get me off the continent and erase my record.

Why would they even kidnap me?

But I knew. My family likes to ruin people. They were having trouble ruining me. They hadn’t been able to shut me up or pay me off. The PHL was now after them. They were running out of time.

That meant I needed to disappear.

A door opened. But not a car door. There was more whirring. Voices. Male. But I couldn’t make them out.

Footsteps. Heavy and authoritative. But a little muted. Like they were on carpet.

“It stinks in here. I told you to get her, not scare her to death,” a voice snapped, full of alpha power, a powdery scent overwhelming, as the footsteps got closer.

“I wasn’t expecting her to have a panic attack. Had to drug her again, so she didn’t hurt herself,” a male voice said. The same one that had tried to alpha bark at me a few weeks ago, when I was walking back to my place after a game.

Oh. I’d had a panic attack? But that made sense. My base instinct would be to panic, to be afraid, after what happened last time. It would be why my chest hurt. Why I felt jittery.

I also consumed a lot of booze at the party.

“I need her alive,” he snapped.

That was no relief, because there were fates worse than death. The voice wasn’t familiar. Neither was the smell.

There was another sound. Like a door closing again. We’d picked someone up. We weren’t in a car. A train? Or a private plane? I might be a little obvious on a commercial one.

Was my phone here? Were they tracking me? If only I wasn’t tied up. I tried my hands. They were tight, but I felt my bracelet move.

Oh. Maybe I could send Mercy a distress call. I’d set her as my backup in case something happened and the guys were with me. It would at least give her my last location and let her know I needed help. Their game was done or close to it and the first thing she did when she got back to the locker room was check her phone.

“Thought she’d be prettier.” The steps stopped in front of me.

“She’s not ugly,” the other man replied.

“Well, no. Even Bronson has standards.” He sighed. “Not so bright, that one. While I’d love to blame it on his mother, she was much smarter than his father, and not in a conniving way. Which,” his voice went wry, “was most of the problem.”

The blindfold was ripped off my face. There stood an older, refined man, in an expensive suit, and a ridiculously extravagant watch. A glass tumbler of amber liquid was in his hand.

Mr. Deloitte, I presumed. Head of Deloitte Automotive Holdings. Owner of the Motor City Gears. Austin’s grandfather, who he tried not to ever talk to and would be a hot mess when he did. The one who he went to live with after his parents, no, not his parents, his mother, had died. Where Austin had been so miserable, he’d left to play on an out-of-area junior team and entered into a deal to make it on his own.

“Hello there.” Mr. Deloitte’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I see it. It’s the eyes. Still, what is it with these children wanting to keep their unsuitable betas? There’s a place for betas in a pack, but like the omega, they have to be chosen carefully.”

Such bullshit. This idea of not being good enough, because they thought I was poor was dumb. What should matter is me as a person. I should be judged on my integrity and character.

Oh wait, the Deloittes didn’t have any.

I moved my hands, like I was trying to ask to be untied. Really, I was just trying to get the bracelet closer to where my fingers could reach.

He ignored the gesture. “Bronson at least attempted to leave you behind. His father wasn’t that smart. His mom paid the price in the end. So did Bronson. Whatever he told you, I love my grandson. I want him to be happy. But I also have a responsibility to the legacy started over two hundred years ago, back when we were still Deloitte Tractors.”

I looked around, there was only him and the other man. We were also on a plane. A small plane that had big overstuffed chairs, some of which faced each other, and what looked like an area with a couch and TV.

“All he had to do was come home, take his position on the team, and mate with whom I told him to. They’re even friends, which is why I’m pairing him off so young. Well, that and I need this business merger. It’s not a difficult task. Bronson had to fuck it up, of course.” He rolled his eyes as he took the seat across from me.

Shit, I kept my eyes on him, still fiddling with my bracelet. There. Or was it there? I pushed them all.

“Confronting you in the bar was stupid. Then, even though they went to the lawyers, his idiot brothers made everything worse. That is the fault of their mother. Beautiful omega, not very bright. Though all three have horrible anger issues, which will be their downfall if they don’t handle it.”

It was pretty shitty how he was insulting everyone like that. Though being gagged, there was nothing I could do about it. Hopefully, I pushed the right button and sent a distress beacon message to Mercy. I stopped fiddling with my hands, so he wouldn’t get suspicious.

“And you, with your impeccable record keeping. In another time, I’d have hired you, so we could stay one step ahead of the tax agents. Of course, in another time I'd have you as a goalie. You're so much better than my granddaughter. I’m guessing Bronson fell in love with your playing.” His look got a little dreamy. “I know that feeling well.”

The plane moved. All the shades were drawn, so I couldn’t see out the window and try to figure out where we were–or where we were going. I moved my fingers to find my bracelet but kept my eyes on Mr. Deloitte.

He took a sip of his drink. “Pity the PHL will lose you. You have raw talent, drive, and training. You could have gone far. Also, you’re smart and decent-looking. Given you had no idea who Bronson was, what did you even see in him ?” His look went skeptical.

Wait. Lose such a talent as me? Was he murdering me? No. He said he needed me alive. Confusion ricocheted through me.

Also, disgust that he stooped to kidnapping me. While I knew they were trash, I’d hoped the Deloittes weren’t as unhinged as Lucius.

He studied my face. His nostrils flared as he took in my scent and the story it told him.

“I’d been hoping I could just run you off and you’d go wallow in obscurity in some small league overseas. But that was before I truly understood how good you were, and that even if you went overseas, you’d end up right back here. My grandson seriously downplayed your abilities. Chummy wasn’t happy about calling your agent and pretending the Boaters were interested in you, because he wanted to sign you. While I’d thought about what he could add to your contract to get you out of the way, ultimately I had better options.”

The offer was fake? My heart fell. I’d wanted that to be real–even if they ended up not signing me.

His eyes met mine, as if he knew what I was thinking. “I had to act fast. Someone would have signed you. If not now, come the off-season. Really, you already should have been drafted, but that’s what happens when you get career advice from Bronson . He didn’t get the family business smarts. Not sure how he even managed to major in business.”

Part of me preened that the owner of a hockey team thought I was talented. It took the sting out of the Boater’s offer being fake. But the fear of him monologuing like a super villain crept through me. Him telling me so much meant he didn’t plan on me being rescued.

“Apologies for the sloppiness with both the Knights and the NACA. That’s what I get for delegating. Which is why I’m here. If you need things done right, you have to do it yourself.” His blue eyes gleamed.

Fear ignited inside me and the panic I’d tried to ward off before returned in full force.

“You’re too much trouble, and now I have to suspend three of my players. Which is going to wreak havoc with the team. They want me to buy out Bronson’s contract. Not going to happen.” A haughty smile flickered across his face. “Oh, I’m going to make sure you disappear. We’ll find some way to explain your disappearance, so no one wonders what happened–or looks too hard. I need the PHL to stop getting on my ass about you. We both know you don’t have many people who care for you, and those boys of yours will move on, as hockey players do. I know who you are and all about that trash you call family.”

I didn’t flinch, instead I held his gaze in a way that was almost a challenge. How dare he call my family trash ? It didn’t surprise me, though. Lucius’ parents thought my family was garbage, too. Not so much that they wouldn’t do business with my uncle. Or enough that Franny wouldn’t be with my sister. But enough that they didn’t understand Lucius’ obsession with me. I was supposed to be a toy, not his soulmate.

Even with everything my family allegedly did, they were still better than the Deloittes. Like they cared about their employees.

How had Mr. Deloitte figured it out?

Mr. Deloitte’s grin widened as he scented my fear. “I also know someone who’d been looking for you, Gabby. I’m going to reunite the two of you and in return, he’s going to take you far, far away and you will never play hockey or bother my grandson ever again. Won’t that be nice?”

No. No, it couldn’t be.

Lucius was dead.

While I could see his sister doing something like this, Mr. Deloitte said he. He also called me Gabby.

The dads wouldn’t move against Lucius. His parents were still in power, they’d have the same problems.

Lucius had enough money where he could hide us overseas.

The look in Mr. Deloitte’s eyes was one of maniacal satisfaction.

How had he found Lucius when even the news hadn’t reported him kidnapping me? How had Lucius lived, when I shot him with my own hands? Kicked his dead body. Listened to his family try to pin me for murder?

He was giving me to Lucius. I was fucked.

All I could hear was Mr. Deloitte’s deranged laughter as the panic overtook me.