Eluded (5 page)

"I have a habit of trying to
please others and disregarding my own happiness. Years ago, I would
have said love defined me, but I'm without that and have been for
quite some time."

"A wise man once said that love is
merely a madness. I seem to agree. It makes people
weak."

Before I could recall who said
that, he whispered, "Shakespeare." The look on my face must have
compelled him to speak. A chill ran up my arm then down my back,
and I almost shivered at the softness of his tone.

Another moment moved between us
then he spoke. "Abbot. That's what everyone calls me."

"Well
Abbot
"—I reached my
hand across the table—"it’s nice to meet you."

He gave me a firm handshake, then
stood.

"I have something I want to show
you." Abbot grabbed my hand, and I pulled it away.

"I'm not leaving with you. You
could be a murderer or something," I said and saw something flicker
in his eyes.

I watched the movement of his
mouth as he spoke with an elegant English accent. "How about I give
you my word and say you'll be returned safely to wherever you'd
like. A man is nothing without his word."

I focused on the ground, and he
turned and made his way to the exit. Curiosity overcame me as I
contemplated going back to the hotel. I decided to take the chance.
He seemed like a man of his word, and for some reason, I trusted
him. When my arm brushed against his, he turned and smiled as if he
knew exactly what I would do.

Shadows from the building covered
the sidewalks. After a few blocks, we passed tons of shops, some
brand names that I recognized and others that I didn't. Once we
turned onto the main road, it was like Time Square, and the streets
were just as busy. I couldn't believe the amount of people on the
sidewalks with shopping bags. Everything seemed bright, new, and
alive there. I had only been in London for a few days and hadn't
had a chance to explore, so seeing the city like this was amazing,
and it was only a few blocks from the hotel.

"Oxford Street. It's an
experience, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said breathlessly. It was
almost too much to take in at once.

He guided me up a flight of metal
stairs on the side of a tall building. The metal creaked as we
slowly climbed them. At the top of the building, the wind blew
constantly, and I had to tuck the loose strands of hair behind my
ear. Abbot leaned over the cool brick and looked out. I followed.
The city seemed calm, and the buildings looked like antiques. The
lights sparkled in the distance as the sun set.

"When I need to clear my head, I
come up here and look over the city. I think of all the people in
London and what they are doing at this exact moment. I am able to
find myself when I feel completely insignificant. Odd, I know, but
it's comforting to know that a billion insignificant creatures make
up something so beautiful, and together we are able to experience
life. Life right now, together."

I stared out into the vastness. As
I looked over the buildings and people, I got it. I understood how
it could do that to him. I had never heard someone speak so much
sense with only a few words. He was deep on a level that not many
people were. At the thought of it all, something tugged inside of
me.

We were two strangers from two
different countries and cultures, who stood over one city,
experiencing something so beautiful together— life in the
right
now
.

ABBOT

Six

S
he wasn't safe around me
or in the city.

I didn't expect an answer so raw
and truthful from a stranger. I supposed it was ideal that she
didn't know me like the locals did, or even suspect what I was
capable of doing. My draw quickly became more than just protecting
her from being kidnapped by the bastards who stalked the streets. I
found myself wanting her, wanting to break her down and build her
back up to be the strong woman that I sensed inside of her. She
might be partially broken, but maybe I could be the man to put her
back together to my liking. Within her, something begged to be
unlocked and set free. Behind the girl who blushed with every look
we exchanged, there was a resilient woman waiting to be freed . . .
and I would find her.

If she wouldn't have looked at me
like I could save her world, then I possibly could have walked
away. Maybe. But now, it was too late for her and for me. The way
she kept popping up in my space, it was like dangling a piece of
meat in front of a dog.

On the way back to her hotel, I
saw the black van sweeping the streets. When I made eye contact
with the driver, he rounded the corner, engine sputtering and
spitting as he drove into the distance. The knife tucked in the
back of my pants urged me to let it free and destroy the fucks who
taunted me. I knew the driver saw her, which meant an invisible X
was placed on her back. Since the ante was upped tenfold, I had no
choice. Either
I
took her, or someone else did.

Let the fucking games
begin.

I stood outside of her hotel, and
before she entered, she looked up into my eyes.

"There is something about you . .
. " she said and then stopped. "It was nice meeting you, Abbot." We
didn't end the night with a kiss but rather with a side hug. It was
so ridiculous, but I allowed it. I wanted to run my fingers through
her hair and force her to look into my eyes and tell me all of her
secrets. I needed to know more about her, what made her tick, and
why the fuck she was so friendly to strangers.

"Delivered. Safe and sound just
like I promised," I said.

She stared at me for another
moment, smiled, then walked inside. I balled my hands into fists,
and my knuckles cracked. While my anger raged on, I called a few of
my men and told them the plan. "I've got a new mark, if she doesn't
leave town tomorrow." I didn't wait for them to reply before I
ended the call.

I searched the city for that
filthy piece-of-shit sweeper who tried to intimidate me. I put a
call out to my men until someone rounded him up and brought him to
me. He would want me to find him first, because I would be quicker
than my men if they found him.

It took exactly forty-five minutes
before he was located and brought back to the warehouse. Furiously,
I walked back to my flat, grabbed the keys to the Audi, and met
everyone there. Being the leader of the Gang of London was fucking
work, twenty-four hours a day. But what I did bettered the city,
gave me a purpose, and protected those who needed to be saved. In a
city where the police were fucking crooked and the drug lords ran
wild, people like my men and me were necessary, so I've claimed
ownership of the streets. No one fucking crossed me, and those who
were brave enough to push my fucking buttons would be
destroyed.

I pulled into the back hatch and
slammed the car door behind me. I took the stairs two at a time to
where the driver waited. I knew he would be tied to a chair,
begging to be set free. Or maybe he would be silent. There seemed
to be no middle ground when it came to questioning assholes. They
either acted like giant pussies and cried, or like hard asses and
gave the silent treatment. It took a certain type of person to be
in this business . . . sociopathic, psychotic. I often wondered
what my issues were, and I've almost narrowed them down. I lacked
the emotion that caused fear.

It was lost within me. It made me
dangerous to most people, and at times I felt invincible. I was not
sure when the switch was turned off. Sometimes it made me feel like
the emotions that most people feel didn't exist in me, but I was
not completely emotionless. I hated. I wanted revenge and control.
Often I felt contentment, but death didn't faze me the way it
should. Maybe I was jaded to blood, killing, and watching the life
of someone fade away until they were gone. It was meaningless,
because the men I was killing deserved it. They've killed and raped
innocent women. Anyone who mistreated women in my fucking city was
asking for a death wish, delivered on a silver platter by
me.

I walked into the room, and a fat,
balding man sat with a rag shoved in his mouth. He kept his cold
dark stare trained forward, and he refused to make eye contact. But
he knew me, he didn't have to look.

"Well, well, well. So we finally
fucking meet."

I received no response, but I
didn't expect one. I removed the knife that I kept strapped around
my waist and inspected the blade in the light. Freshly sharpened,
cleaned, and ready to slice and dice. It put a smile on my face to
know that I would rid London of another rat bastard. I pulled the
cloth from the man's mouth and put the knife to the bottom of his
chin.

"If you speak without being spoken
to, I will cut off your fucking lips and tongue."

He still didn't look at me. I
wondered what would make him flinch. What words would push him over
the edge? Liam whispered in my ear, "He had three women in the back
of his van." I pushed the knife further into the man's chin until
dark liquid dripped down the blade. His nostrils flared from the
stinging sensation, but he didn't look at me. Did he even feel
pain?

"You've followed me for days, and
I've followed you as well. Now here we are. I know how many fucking
women you've stolen,
James
. I'm not stupid. I know your
fucking game. I know what kind of monster you are."

With the sound of his name, he
looked at me.

"Yeah. I know you're fucking name,
you worthless piece of shit. Twenty-seven women stolen from my
fucking streets. Twenty of them were raped and fucking flung to the
dogs. Do you think that is okay? Did I give you fucking orders to
take or kill anyone in this city? Let me think. No, I fucking
didn't, and the last time I remember, I ran the streets of
London."

I placed the blade at the top of
his cheek and slid the sharpness down until I saw flesh and blood.
A sharp blade always made clean, deep cuts. His dark cold eyes
looked into mine, and I knew he had those qualities that made him
dangerous as he searched for my flaws and weaknesses. I had them.
Trust me. But I would never show my cards to a crazy bastard like
him.

I placed the blade on his jugular
and pushed until little drops of blood dripped down his neck, then
whispered in his ear, "I have a hunch that you're the kind of guy
who does whatever the hell he wants. Lucky for you . . . I am the
same way. I can cut you from here to here and let your heart do all
the work. It will pump your blood until you choke on
it."

I dug deeper into the skin on his
neck.

"That girl. Lauren Baitey. She
will be dead within the next twenty-four hours. She was marked as
soon as she walked off of that plane," he choked out.

I didn't give him the pleasure of
seeing the anger wash over me. I kept calm, and my face didn't
change. I was the master of many masks.

"Remember the faces of the women
you’ve killed and sold. I hope they haunt you in hell. It's time to
meet your fucking maker." And with one swift motion, I grabbed the
back of his neck slit his throat as promised. The blood flowed into
the drain on the floor, and the sounds of gurgling filled the room.
Remorse . . . I felt none. Before I walked away, I wiped my blade
on the man's jacket and gave my men a nod. They knew what to
do—clean up the mess and get back to work.

"Look for the others in his group.
I want them all dead." The knife easily slid back into the sheath
around my waist. The more I killed, the less I felt. Eventually, I
would become numb to all emotions. Would I still be human then? I
could only hope.

I drove straight home and stripped
out of my clothes. The blood of a man who disgusted me was on my
shirt. I took it off and threw it in the trash. Blood never came
out of clothes. I didn't care how much a person fucking washed
them, blood stained better than dye.

I walked through my flat naked,
turned on the water in the shower, then stepped in. I let my skin
soak in the warmth.

Everything about today was
odd.

Really odd. I analyzed each moment
as I stood under the hot water. I knew what I would have to
do.

I would have to take
Lauren.

I would have to take her
tonight.

LAUREN

Seven

I
couldn't shake the
feeling that major change was coming. I could feel it in my bones,
and it pulsed through my veins. As I lay back on the bed and stared
at the ceiling, my phone vibrated. Henry had called several times
and left several voicemails, but I didn't give a shit what he had
to say. Rejected. I needed time to think without him. It rang a few
more times, and I rejected each call. Finally, the next time, I
picked it up. "You can go straight to hell," I said.

"That's no way to talk to your
mother."

My cheeks reddened. "Sorry
Mom."

"Baby. Lindsey told me what
happened. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine. I always
am."

"It's okay to
not
be fine.
It's okay to cry and let it all out. I just wanted to call you and
tell you that I love you, and when you get back, your room is
available until you get on your feet."