He only had eyes for my command center, with multiple monitors set horizontally and vertically. I sat and initiated security protocols. First there was a scan of my face through the facial recognition software. Then I put my right ring finger on the scanner. It was only then a log-in screen appeared. I entered a string of alpha-numeric characters that would only make sense to me before I gained access to my system.
“Yer little jobbie,” Griffin said, louder this time.
Kalen had mumbled enough Scottish slang over the last few years for me to translate. Griffin had called me a little shit.
I ignored him as I hacked into New York’s DMV system. What I’d failed to tell the pair behind me was that I’d gotten the license plate number as they sped off. I worked against the clock to get in, grab the information, and get out. Breaking in was the simple part. Leaving without a trail that led back to me was harder.
“Got it,” I said, but didn’t answer the questions hurled at me until I’d covered my digital footprints. I didn’t face them until after I initiated the second part of my plan.
“You didn’t need my security, did you?” Griffin asked.
“The muscle, yes. The cyber part, no.”
Kalen proved he knew me better than I thought when he said, “You didn’t want anyone to know what you were capable of.”
“And I want to keep it that way.”
Part of what I did outside of running the club was information gathering. Over the years, several three-letter government outfits had approached me to help them in that area. But I also used my abilities to keep the sinners of my past within reach. When they stumbled, I would be ready to make the kill, literally or figuratively. It didn’t matter either way, as long as justice was served.
“I should charge you more,” Griffin muttered.
“And I’ll find another firm to assist me.”
“Cut the shite, Griff. Connor, what did you find out?”
A bell chimed on my computer, and I spun my chair to face it again. I pointed at the screen on the right. “The car was a rental.”
The camera I had facing my back so no one could surprise me—displayed in the smaller screen I had discreetly hidden on the bottom left—showed the two of them stepping forward.
“Not surprising,” Griff said.
“Cameras show that vehicle ending up here.” I tapped the screen in the middle, which had a map.
“Where were you when Bailey went missing?” Kalen groused.
I faced my brother. “You didn’t ask for my help.”
Griffin almost smiled when he said, “What’s your plan?” There may have been grudging respect in his expression.
I steepled my fingers. “This is how we’re going to get my wife back.”
Two
Lizzy
If not for my brother’s calm, I might have been hysterical or using sarcasm as a weapon. As it was, I stayed silent, trusting Matty had a plan. He didn’t need to worry about me goading our assailants into taking drastic measures to shut me up.
But that gave me too much time to think. I was building up my anger for being in this situation. If Striker could have kept his dick in his pants, maybe I wouldn’t be here. On the other hand, I had reason to thank him. If this was about my brother and they’d taken him without witnesses, I wouldn’t have known.
I was also glad Striker was safe and not here. If he were the son of the president of a biker gang, he could have been useful. As it was, he was the son of a billionaire. When Kalen had needed help in a situation like this, he’d called my brother.
Griffin, I thought. He would be useful. But no one had been around. No one knew we’d been taken. Griffin would assume I was pissed off about the man he knew as Connor.
I still had trouble processing that. If I allowed myself to merge Striker and Connor, there was no chance for us. Not that there was anyway. Lying was a big no-no for me. As much as I’d tried to forget the smooth-talking sexual god, he was never far from my mind.
The car stopped, and I listened for clues since the smelly black bag was still over my head. The four-man crew was efficient and silent. They startled me when I was roughly grabbed and dragged out of the SUV.
“Where are we?” I demanded, unable to remain silent despite the futile nature of my question. The likelihood they’d answer was nil.
“The better question is what are we going to do to you?”
Laughter sounded all around as the speaker shoved me forward, letting me stumble as I went, unable to see what was in front of me. I was pushed into a chair, and my arms and legs were secured to it. Then the hood was snatched from my head, along with some hair. I let out a little yelp.
It took several blinks before the small room we were in came into focus. The only furniture in it was the two chairs my brother and I sat in and a table shoved against the wall in front of us. A man, probably the leader, with folded arms leaned against it while studying us.
I looked beyond him, past the open door. It appeared we were in a warehouse or maybe an abandoned factory considering the rusted equipment we’d passed. The roof was missing in places. I caught a peek of the night sky if my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
The guy by the table stood straight and walked over to my brother. In horror, I watched him nail Matty with a fist square in his face.
“Stop!” I cried as the man drew back his arm.
My cries were ignored as my brother took blow after blow; his stubborn chin lifted in defiance.
“Where is he?” the man with the balled fist yelled.
Just when I thought I knew what kind of trouble we were in, I didn’t. The man could have easily said “where is she” because his accent was that thick. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I didn’t think it was Spanish or Chinese. Then again, what did I know?
The next blow sent blood splattering on the man’s yellowing shirt. Matty spit out more as his face swelled. I felt the tears before I knew I was crying.
“Please,” I begged, but was ignored. As futile as it was, I scooted my chair toward Matt until someone stopped me.
A different man caught the lower half of my face in his meaty hand and squeezed. “Sit still.” He had a similar accent to the man working over my brother. “Or we’ll be forced to use other tactics to get information.” A gun appeared, and he pressed the muzzle above the neckline of my dress and drew it down to create a gap.
“Don’t,” my brother croaked.
“Ah, you care about this one,” the leader said.
Matt gave me a derisive once-over. “No, but she isn’t a part of this.”
“But isn’t she?”
What the hell did that mean? The leader pulled his phone from his pocket and answered it. It sucked he didn’t use English. But when the call was over, he shook his head at the one who held me at his mercy. Then he barked an order I couldn’t understand.
After the other men left, the leader said, “You are lucky. For now.” Then he was gone too.
“Mat—”
My brother shushed me before I could finish. I might have continued, but he inspected the corners of the ceilings and I caught on. My last time in Chicago, I’d gotten a crash course about concealed cameras and listening equipment.