Read Ransom Online

Authors: Erica Sutherhome

Ransom (2 page)

She shivered.  She searched in the dark, trying to find a weapon of some kind.  God, did she own nothing that could be used as a weapon?  She grasped at a dumbbell her trainer had wanted her to use, but it couldn’t be more than five pounds.  Damnit. 

Triana crept to the door, quietly turned the handle.  She peered into the darkness of the corridor; she couldn’t see anything.  She slowly eased out into the hall, stepping toe to foot.  An arm suddenly snaked around her middle and she raised the dumbbell, tried to hit her attacker.  The man cursed and knocked the weapon aside.  He spun her, took her down to the floor, immobilizing her with a knee in her back.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

Then a cloth went over her mouth.  Triana inhaled, sputtered on a strong scent.  And she knew no more.

****

Lance was restless.  He had basically been left to his own devices for the time being, but he knew that wouldn’t last.  He had a gun tucked in his black jeans, and he paced the floor. 

He glanced over at the girl, at her still form.  She was unconscious.  He knew she wasn’t dead.  He had checked for a pulse when he’d found her.  It was faint so he knew she hadn’t been sleeping.  He suspected they’d used chloroform.  That was Sanson’s style, but there was no way to be sure. 

Kneeling beside the mattress, he brushed a hand over her soft hair, moving it out of her face.  She was pretty.  No…actually, very beautiful.  She had nice curves and her full red hair was stunning against her pale skin.  He’d give an arm to find out what color her eyes were, but he shouldn’t care. 

He did.  His cousin should be his main concern, but he couldn’t stand for an innocent to get caught in the crossfire.  This girl would have to be taken care of.  He would have to protect her too.  Another on his long list of priorities.  God, he was so tired of saving everyone.  Or feeling like he had to.  Now, he didn’t know if it was duty that drove him or compassion.  He had always been a sucker for a hard luck story, but this just took the cake.  He knew trying to save his cousin could get him killed too.  But, he had to take the chance. 

At least he never had to worry about Quinn.  But, Louis.  Louis was just trouble waiting to happen.

Louis had always fallen in with the wrong kind of people.  He should have known better, but he obviously didn’t.  And every time that Lance got him out, he was so grateful and then promised it would be the last time.  Yeah, right.  But, Sanson really wasn’t someone you screwed around with either.  He would really kill Louis without a thought.

Lance felt his throat go tight.  He couldn’t allow that to happen.  Not this time.  Not ever.

 

Chapter 3

Triana awoke in the darkness.  She was bound and gagged.   She was lying on a mattress of some kind.  It was clean, but still a bit musty.  Her clothes felt different as if she’d been changed.  She shuddered at the thought that her captor might have taken her clothes off and dressed her in something other than her pajamas.  Why bother with that?  It didn’t make sense.

Triana heard footsteps nearby, but couldn’t tell what direction they came from. 

She was in an unfamiliar place, a cold and loathing place.  There was no other way to describe the ease in which it crept into her veins, into her tissues and bones, obliterating all thought of escape or all thought of further happiness.  It was probably a basement or cellar, but she wasn’t sure.  There was no other means to explain the icy blackness of night within the room and the shadows that crept toward her when there was a sporadic flash of light. 

And there wasn’t a way out.  It was fairly obvious.  She not only could hardly move from where she was, there was no clear escape route. 

Her heart slammed in her chest when she heard a door creak open.  Footsteps came close, then light spilled into the room like someone had just flipped a switch.  Her eyes burned, dimmed at first, then she got used to it.  It was a simple room, metal walls, a mattress and little else.  She had been right about not finding an escape.  If she had tried, it would only have resulted in pain and the wrenching ache of a heart longing for a warm hand in the dark.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a shape, a figure.  Her kidnapper?

Suddenly, she saw him.  He was not what she expected at all.  He had short, curly black hair and dark eyes.  He was tall and well-built, but not scary.  He seemed uncertain, not at all the way someone should have been if they kidnapped you.

He stepped closer to her.  He gave her a small smile.  He was very attractive.  The force of him hit her in the stomach, a clenching of her gut, not in disgust but awareness.  She hadn’t felt that before. 

“How are you, Triana?”

She wet her dry lips, couldn’t make out the words for being gagged.  She shook her head.

“Let me help you.” He bent over to remove the gag.  Then, he untied her bonds.

She coughed, then watched him as he stepped away.

“Triana.  That’s an unusual name.  It’s pretty, but strange.  Who named you? Your mother?”

She nodded, still unable to form words. 

“She must have been something.”

Her eyes narrowed.  How did he know of her mother?  “She’s not dead.”

“Did I say that?”

She shook her head.  She stood up slowly.  It took awhile for the numbness to go out of her feet, for the painful tingles in her extremities to creep away.

“But, I suspect she’s not around either.”

She didn’t answer, just kept watching him.  She crossed her arms.  When he didn’t say anything else, she began, “Why am I here?”

He did not reply, just watched her with the corner of his mouth lifting in a mock smile. 

“What do you want?”

Silence again.

Unease crept inside her.  “Who are you?” she demanded with her chin tilted up at him in stubborn repose.

“If I divulged that information, there would be no mystery left.”

She stamped her foot in a childlike manner.  “Why am I here?” she tried again.

“To gain someone’s undivided attention, my love.”

She loathed his method of patronizing candor.  “I am not your love, damn you!”  When his face remained impassive, she asked softly, “For ransom?”

“Perhaps.”  He approached her stealthily.  “You ask too many questions, my dear.  Yet it is said that an inquisitive mind is a healthy one.  Maybe it is not such a bother.  Still, I wonder if you are curious or only full of nervous energy.  Do you even know which?”

His hand rested on her collarbone and gently caressed her neck, tracing every arched contour.  She shivered beneath his touch and her lips began to tremble.  She felt her nipples harden instantly and suddenly she was spent with her response to this man.  Honestly, she thought, he should be struck to the bone for being so damned attractive.

Afraid of how she was responding, she shoved his hand off.  “Don’t touch me.”

He nodded.  “Very well.”

As if asking would do a bit of good when she was his captive.  She wasn’t naïve.  She knew how these situations went sometimes.  Rape would be common, she imagined.

She wet her lips again.  “Will you tell me why I was taken?”

He shook his head.

“I can’t not know!” she cried.

“Don’t bother yourself with it, dear.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel.”

He smiled at that, but she had no idea why.

****

Lance didn’t have a clue why he should be so amused by the girl’s spunk, but he was.  He had to play the part here or she would suspect he was not who he claimed.

“Are you going to tell me your name?”  Her voice was hoarse now.

He shook his head, then went to a water cooler conveniently placed in the room.  He filled a cheap paper cup and returned it to her.  She drank fast and water dribbled down her chin.  He had a strange urge to lap it up with his tongue.  Of course, that was nonsense.  She was beautiful, but he had no right to touch her.  And the poor girl was probably scared out her wits.

But, when she clamped a hand on his arm and whispered, “You have to tell me why I’m here,” their bodies were too close.  The desire curling in his belly could not be ignored.

****

He kissed her.  He actually kissed her.  Stunned into submission, Triana felt him memorize her mouth with his lips before dipping his tongue inside.  He tasted too good, and the trembling inside of her did not cease.  His arms when she touched him tightened, and as he drew her up against his chest, she had the strongest urge to let him make love to her.  Reason crept in, however, and she fought the strange desire. 

“No!” she cried, turning her head aside.  “How dare you.”

His eyes narrowed.  “You were a willing participant.”

She had to remind herself that he was the enemy and she the captive.  “I do not want you!”

He cocked a disbelieving brow at her.  “You are young, I’ll grant you that.  But you are denying what you want.  Listen to yourself, Triana.  Listen to your heart.  Then listen to what your body needs.”

He heart said to back away, to demand that she be returned to her safe haven at once.  Her body, however, responded to only him.  She felt her will bending as his arms pulled her closer to the wall of his chest.  When his lips raced over hers, she lost the strength in her knees and quickly felt that willpower fall away like rose petals.  “Please, I cannot want you,” she murmured to no one in particular.

“Attraction is a strange power, my love…”

Surely it was for she had no fight left in her when he was around.

After a few moments of drowning in his kisses, he released her and left the room, slamming the door behind him.  She sank on shaky knees to the mattress.  Dear God.  What was the matter with her?  She had made out with her captor.  Surely that was either the evidence of a long repressed girl or a slut.

Still shaken, she moved to a more comfortable position on the cot.  She put her head in her hands.  So she was attracted to her captor.  That did not have to mean anything.  Of course, it didn’t.  That probably happened all the time.  If other women could fight it, so could she.  She would fight this undeniable desire.  She would fight it or perish.  For she’d rather give up her life than willingly submit to the person who placed her in danger.

She forced herself to recall the kidnapping, how powerless she’d felt when he’d held her down on the floor before she’d blacked out.  The anger stirred in her belly, and it was refreshing, even welcome.  Yes, she would fight this.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

Triana woke stiff-necked on the cot.  Her senses strained.  She tried to listen for movement in the building, wherever she might be.  The last thing she wanted was another confrontation like she’d had with her captor yesterday. 

A need suddenly pressed on her belly, and she moaned in distress.  She rose, and grateful that she did not have the hindrance of the ropes, she sought out a way to relieve herself.  When she located a small bathroom, she made use of it quickly and washed her hands.  At least she didn’t have to shame herself by peeing all over the place. 

Shuddering at the thought, she began to walk around the room to try to get a feel for it.  It was pretty nondescript, had probably been used as a workshop of sorts because it was full of tools laid upon a workbench, tools she was pretty sure would not help her escape in any case.

But, a pretty good sized monkey wrench might be a useful weapon if Mr. Hot Lips decided to make another attempt.  With a victorious grin, she hefted it and slid it beneath the mattress. 

When she heard footsteps, she sat down.

The door unlocked and her captor strode in with a tray.  He cast her a cursory glance and set it on the cot beside her.

“What is it?”

“Breakfast.”

She looked over the tray.  “A sandwich?”

“Slim pickings here, I’m afraid.  I’m sure you’re used to better.”

Her eyes narrowed on his face.  “What does that mean?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, but did not comment.

She sighed.  “You haven’t laced it with anything?”

“What, like poison?  No.  I’m not that stupid.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Rufies?”  He laughed derisively.  “Give me more credit.  If I wanted to seduce you, I’d use old-fashioned methods.”

Yes, he certainly already had used those.  And they were pretty successful.  Well, she had a weapon this time.

Thinking it was best to ignore his attempts to rile her, she took a bite of the ham and cheese sandwich.  It was good at least, nothing spoiled in there.  The lettuce was fresh, and the bread wasn’t moldy.  It could have been worse, she supposed.  She took a sip of the soda on the tray and sampled the potato chips.  “Never had a breakfast like this.  I’ve had eggs and toast, cereal, but not a sandwich for breakfast.”

              He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his dark eyes.  “You don’t have much room to complain, do you?”

              “No, I suppose not.  You could be starving me.”

              He frowned, looked as if he’d reply, then shook his head.  “That wouldn’t be conducive to why we want you.  The client didn’t sign on for damaged goods.”

              She nearly choked as her imagination soared.  What if they meant to use her for some kind of human trafficking?  Or to transport drugs to another country?  What would she do?  Anything, she realized.  She would do anything to survive.  But, could she kill a man?  No, probably not.  She’d have to think of something else.  Temporarily incapacitate…that might be a better option.

              She frowned.  “Who is this client?”

              He lifted a brow.  “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

              She frowned, wondering why he kept saying that.  “No, I don’t think you’re stupid at all.”

              The hard look on his face cleared, and he smiled briefly.  “It’s good for you to know who you’re dealing with.”

              “I have to agree with you there.  But, I don’t really know what you’re capable of.”

              “I guess we’ll have to see then, won’t we?”

              “Yeah, I guess so.”

              He left then, but he visited her several times throughout the day.  He made vague comments when she asked questions, and he didn’t try to attack her.  She thought his behavior was completely different from the day before.  She couldn’t figure him out.  A man who kidnapped a woman rarely was honorable.  He wouldn’t let things get in the way of what he wanted.  And if the way he’d kissed her was any indication, he wanted her.  Not that she had had much experience in that realm.  It was just common sense.

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