Crave (Talon Security #1) (4 page)

I was absently aware of Caden and Danika getting up and starting a game of pool. Whether their exit was planned or coincidental, I wasn’t sure; nor did I have the mindset to care at the moment.

“How are you, Sam?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over my face.

My eyes fell to the glass I held clutched in my hands. “I’m good. I’ve been writing a lot. An artist asked me to write a few songs, Autumn Powers. I’m sure you remember her,” I shared. I didn’t know why I’d shared that with him, aside from the fact that he was one of the few people who would know just how meaningful that news actually was.

His brows lifted, a smile spreading across his handsome face. “That’s fucking great, Sam.”

“Thanks,” I replied stiffly as I caught a drop of moisture sliding down my glass. “That was a beautiful wedding. Your date seemed… nice,” I managed, trying to make conversation.

He made a growly noise. “She wasn’t my date. My buddy’s wife tried to set us up at the wedding.”

That made me feel marginally better, though it didn’t change anything.

“So, where are you living?” he asked, reaching for Caden’s glass and filling it from the pitcher of beer the three of us had been sharing.

“On Melrose,” I answered vaguely.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Which side?”

“On the it’s-none-of-your-business side,” I snapped, feeling the anger that’d been simmering beneath all the hurt start to boil to the surface.

He stared at me for a moment, as though gauging how to respond.

“It’s getting late. I should go.” I pushed my glass out of the way and gave him a pointed look that he should get up and let me out.

“Not yet.” He shook his head.

His audacity infuriated me. I’d been so twisted up over him; I hated that he owned so many of my emotions. But I’d be damned if he owned my ability to leave.

I slid under the booth, ignoring the sticky floor, and trying to avoid the gum caked to the underside of the table. I came up the other side as gracefully as I could manage.

I stood as tall as my petite frame allowed and glared down at him. “You walked out on me. You’re not attracted to me? Fine,” I ranted as his eyes gauged me steadily. “But I thought at least—at least you cared enough about me to stay and try not to make me feel like absolute shit! But you couldn’t give that to me, Sid. Not your time. Not an explanation. So you don’t get to sit there and demand anything from me.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the bar.

The alcohol had made for a loose tongue, which I wasn’t entirely sorry for. I left my car where it was and headed around the corner and out of sight until a cab appeared.

My phone was pinging in my bag but I ignored it, staring out the window watching as the lights of the city flashed by. I kept expecting to feel devastated but instead I felt… strong. I’d been holding those feelings in for months. It had felt better than I’d expected to set them free.

Sid had been a big part of my life for years. I didn’t want to lose him entirely, so friends it would be. When I was ready.

CHAPTER 4

A
fter a hot shower, I threw a robe on over my naked body and went straight to bed without returning a single text. I didn’t even look at my phone.

When I heard the front door bang open what felt like seconds after falling asleep, I sat up with a jolt. The sound of several pairs of boots and unfamiliar male voices filling my apartment had me scrambling out of bed in a panic.

“Search the place. Find her.” An accented voice commanded. Russian? I couldn’t place the accent, such was my panic.

I gasped, trying to tamp down my terror in order to think clearly. I reached for my phone, enacting the training Travis had ingrained in me time and time again in the event of an emergency. I sent him an SOS signal. It was all I had time for before I scrambled to find an escape route.

I looked down at the small robe covering my naked frame; there was no time to put anything else on. I frantically turned to open my bedroom window, shoving out the screen.

The heart-stopping sound of my bedroom door opening behind me sent sheer terror through me as I threw one leg over the windowsill in a desperate attempt to escape.

Suddenly, a large arm was around my neck, yanking me back. I kicked out and struggled, trying desperately to hold my robe together. I was able to slip out from under his arm, landing hard on the ground, and crawled frantically back to the window, screaming for help.

I didn’t get far.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back as I cried out in pain. “You’re not going anywhere,” the man grunted, pulling me up and smacking me so hard across the face that my eyes watered and I saw stars.

He dragged me into the living room, where two other men were in the process of ripping apart my apartment. They were all impeccably dressed in suits and there was something so odd about watching such put-together-looking men cause such irrational chaos.

I was shoved roughly to the ground, landing painfully on my hands and knees. “What do you want?” I demanded, pulling together my robe with one hand and wiping the blood from my nose with the other.

Two men glared down at me while a third stepped forward, kneeling to look me in the eye.

His icy stare sent a shiver up my spine.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, his tone eerily calm and calculated.

I shook my head.

He smiled wickedly and I suddenly felt like a doe in a lion’s crosshairs. “Your boss and I were business partners of a kind some time ago,” he explained musingly. “I have reason to believe he gave you something of mine, something very valuable.”

I swallowed hard as the fear ratcheted up several degrees. Zitto? I had the sinking feeling that the fact I had no idea what he was talking about wouldn’t bode well.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered fearfully.

The punch came out of nowhere, slamming into my face with punishing force. I must have lost consciousness for moment or two, because I came to on the ground staring up at the ceiling. The pain radiated across my face with an aching pulse.

“Let’s try again, shall we?” he asked, his accent thickened by anger. “I didn’t spend the last decade in prison to argue with little girls.”

My vision was still filled with stars as I struggled to focus on him. He forced me roughly to sit up.

“What he gave you—well, it wasn’t his to give. He fucking stole it, and for that, he’ll pay. But first, I need my fucking diamond!”

“It’s not fucking here,” another man bellowed from my room.

I could see the confusion and rage written on my assailant’s face as clearly as words on a page.

Then it dawned on me. The gift. Still stored in my trunk in front of Motto’s. I knew with crushing clarity that my chances of survival were better if they didn’t get what they wanted.

I’d have to put on the best show of my life to survive this.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest as my limbs went numb with fear. I’d never been so terrified in my life. The realization that I could be seconds from death was impossible to absorb and yet terrifyingly clear.

I decided I could accept my fate or fight to change it. I moved unsteadily to my feet, squaring off with the man who’d moments ago knocked me unconscious and who now debated my next breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeated.

I watched as the man assessed me. His icy blue stare took me in, as though he could read every thought. “You know, little one, I almost believe you,” he conceded. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing my injured face.

My heart galloped in my chest as I braced for another strike.

“You have what you Americans would call sass. I respect that. But I still don’t have my diamond. My very rare, very valuable diamond.”

Holy shit. What the hell had Zitto gotten into?

I stood up straight despite pain radiating through my body. Instinctually I knew strength was of utter importance in this tide-turning moment.

I simply stared back at him, my expression blank.

“Boss.” One of the men spoke up suddenly, his Russian accent much thicker than that of the man I’d been talking to. “We’ve drawn enough attention. We go, now.”

The “boss” eyed me speculatively for a few moments. “We’ll go,” he agreed with a nod, his eyes never leaving me. “For now.”

I felt like I’d faint with the effort I’d been expending to stay upright.

The three men stalked out, leaving the front door open behind them. He turned to look at me a final time, his tone calculating as he said, “We’ll talk again, little one.”

The blood whirred in my ears as I registered his threat. The last thing I heard was the deep rumble of their car starting before I allowed my body to collapse.

“Sam!” I distantly heard my brother’s hoarse shout as I struggled to come around.

“Fuck!” Sid’s anguished cry followed a second later.

What was he doing here?

I felt a rough hand gently cup my face as I opened my eyes, squinting up at Sid. “Sam.” His voice was tortured as his eyes tracked over my face and the rest of my body.

I pushed his hand away and struggled to sit up, relieved my robe was still tied around me.

“I’m okay,” I managed, avoiding his gaze.

“Tell me what happened,” Travis demanded.

I looked up at him. “They were looking for something. A diamond. I think Zitto set me up,” I admitted, the words hard to believe as I said them. He’d been like an extended family member. I struggled to believe he’d do something so callous.

“What do you mean?” Travis demanded.

I scrambled to pull my thoughts together. “A few days ago, he asked me to hold on to a birthday gift for his wife. He said she’d find it if it was in their house. I agreed. But honestly, I forgot about it. It’s still in my trunk. It had to be what they were looking for.”

“What did they look like?” Sid’s growl broke in.

“They were Russian. All dressed in suits. They seemed… professional.” I swallowed hard against the memory of how coolly they’d torn apart my home. “The one in charge, he said he’d been a business partner of Zitto’s and that I had something of great value to him. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. Once I realized what they might be looking for, I knew that if I told them they’d probably kill me.” My chest heaved as my heart rate spiked yet again. “He said... he said he’d see me again,” I managed hoarsely.

Sid shot to his feet, a raw growl escaping his throat. He paced a few short steps as Travis reached down to help me up.

Sid immediately stopped pacing, moving into my space. “Sam.” His voice was guttural as Travis steadied me. “Let me help you get cleaned up.”

My eyes filled with tears and I shook my head.

His eyes were bright with anguish as he watched my unsteady movements. “Sam,” he tried again. “Please.”

The last thing I wanted was to be vulnerable with him, but I doubted I could get myself together on my own. It was either him or Travis. My brother potentially seeing me naked wasn’t high on my to-do list, though the option was only slightly below Sid doing so at this point.

“Fine.” I surrendered bitterly.

He looked relieved as he took the two steps to my side, shocking me by sweeping me up in his arms bridal style.

“I’ll call Theo to get him over here while you take care of her,” Travis said as Sid carried me from the room.

He growled when we entered my room. It was completely torn apart. All of the drawers of my dresser were pulled out and turned over. My mattress had been yanked from the bed. Feathers from the pillows they’d shredded dusted the ground like eerie snow. It was a shocking sight.

“Just a minute, sweetheart,” he gritted out, setting me down carefully. He pulled my mattress back onto the bed before reaching for me. He sat me on the edge of my mattress and squatted down in front of me with a haunted expression. “I know you probably can’t understand any of this right now, but I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice was hoarse as he heaved a labored breath. “Thank you for letting me take care of you. It’s more than I deserve.”

I agreed with him wholeheartedly on that point.

“When you feel better, we’ll talk. There’s a lot I want to say, but for now just know that you’re safe.”

I stared at him, unable to feel much and wanting desperately to be covered up.

Seeming to sense that, he stood and immediately began rummaging through my things, producing a bra and panties, leggings, and a hoodie.

“I can do it.” I shook my head when he looked like he was going to help me get dressed.

“Sam,” he replied imploringly.

I looked him in the eye. “No.”

After a moment of reluctance, he nodded, turning his back as I untied my robe with shaking fingers. My fingers were numb and my knees wobbled. I managed to get my underwear on, but I couldn’t clasp my bra. My hands shook too badly. I let out a sob of frustration.

I felt his hands behind me, confident and gentle as he clasped the hooks for me.

I hung my head in defeat. I didn’t want to need him—not now.

He turned me gently, pulling the sweatshirt carefully over my head. “C’mere,” he coaxed, sitting me on the edge of the bed. He kneeled at my feet, pulling the leggings up over each foot and up my calves before guiding me to stand so he could pull them all the way up.