Rescuing Isabelle, page 21
“Makes sense.” I don’t like it, but there’s not much I can do about it.
If Izzy isn’t up for the hike—likely more of a run—I’ll carry her on my back. I’ll do whatever it takes to rescue her.
Over the next hour, we discuss various ways to infiltrate the compound.
As Mitzy’s drones gather more data on exterior surveillance and defense, our plans adjust and compensate. The sun sets, bringing on dusk, as we finalize our plans.
“A dozen men patrol outside the walls. The Rufuses…” CJ gives Forest a look. “We seriously need a better name.”
“Rufi? Rufusi?” Rafe tries to help but it makes everyone laugh.
“Well, the damn dogs will tranq the guards. That allows you to get close.” CJ rubs his hands together. He’s getting edgy, like me.
“The drones are done.” Mitzy calls us over to the table.
We gather around her as they piece together a composite of the building.
“How many staff and guards inside.” Brady’s back to pulling at his chin. He does that when deep in thought.
Mitzy points to various places inside the compound. “These are staff.”
“How do you know?” It’s an honest question.
“Guards don’t hang out in the kitchen and laundry. They also don’t push mops and brooms.” She points out the details, making me feel foolish.
“Attempt no contact with the staff.” Sam’s deep voice commands attention. “But if you come across any, tie them up, gag them, and put them in a place of safety until this is over.”
“Copy that.” Brady shifts beside me. He gives me a look, one we’ve shared before. Sometimes, the help is more than just the help.
Bravo team gathers around the table. Me and Brady stand across from Sam and CJ. To our left Rafe and Alec peruse the mock up Mitzy and her drones generated. Hayes and Zeb crouch down, getting eye level with the display.
Already, they’re assessing the best approach while Brady and I examine how we’re going to get Izzy and the team out.
Mitzy hovers just out of sight, whispering with Forest and Doc Summers. The urgency of their conversation draws my attention from the map of Angelo’s estate, but it’s the heated argument between them which gives me pause.
Why do Forest and Doc Summers care about keeping Angelo alive?
That’s a question for another day, because in less than an hour, we’re kitted up and on our way.
The night is eerily still, meaning the heat and humidity of the day clings tenaciously to the land. There’s no breeze.
No sound.
It’s as if time stands still while six warriors prepare for battle.
Twenty-Five
Izzy
The knock shocks my system. I leap to my feet, smooth the dress, and interlace my fingers. Fear closes in on me. My mouth moves, but the words catch on the lump in my throat. While I try to find my voice, the door slowly opens.
My eyes close as a silent prayer runs through me.
Please give me strength. Bless me with courage to face whatever comes next. Comfort me as I face this danger alone.
Expecting Matias, I squeeze my eyes tight, repeating the prayer over and over in my head.
“Senorita LaCroix, I hope you had time to rest.” The smooth, cultured voice of my captor forces my eyes wide. His arrogance fades for a moment, almost making me feel as if he actually cares.
Not liking the way my mouth gapes, I close it with a snap as the dark stranger pushes the door open. He makes no move to enter, but I take a step back anyhow. Those coal black eyes regard me; hard, calculating, and monstrous. He takes his time, dragging his gaze from my head to my toes, and doesn’t hide his very obvious interest.
“You look as radiant as the morning sun.” He scrapes his hand down the angle of his jaw. His five o’clock shadow is thick, nearly a beard, and somehow terrifying. “Stunning comes to mind.”
My heart practically leaps out of my chest, taking off like a racehorse with wolves on its heels. I understand that kind of terror. I’ve lived with fear my entire life, but this is far more terrifying than a fear of heights, or water, or any of the man irrational fears I carry.
This man wants to do very bad things to me.
“Only because of Rosalee.” It’s all I can think to say.
“Ah, yes. She is a great lady’s maid, but you are a beautiful woman, stunning in your own right.” He’s nearly twice my age and shouldn’t be looking at me like he wants to devour me.
My chin tucks down as I avert my gaze. I can’t stomach the desire swirling in the dark depths of his eyes. It makes me want to retch. My hand drifts to my belly, attempting to calm the fluttering inside.
Lady’s maid?
Did we jump back to another century?
“Why isn’t she allowed to speak to me?” Too curious, I can’t help but ask. Although why I engage him in any conversation is a mystery to me.
I’m his prisoner. Held against my will. I should make him work for every word uttered from my mouth. Yet here I am…conversing.
“Because those are the rules.” His words are more of a dismissal than an answer.
“It’s a dumb rule.”
He tips his head back and harsh laughter tumbles out of his mouth. It lasts barely a moment.
Before I know it, those soulless eyes are back on me. Assessing. Judging. Weighing my worth. Gauging my strength?
“You definitely don’t hold your tongue, do you?” He diminishes me with a flick of his lids.
“Why should I?” My bold comment sounds much stronger than I feel.
It’s lunacy to antagonize this man, especially since he controls my fate, but I can’t help myself.
“Why indeed.” He makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating I exit the relative safety of the room to enter the hallway outside. “Allow me to escort you to dinner.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I like your attitude, Miss LaCroix, but do not test me.”
“Or what?”
“That is a question best left unasked.” He pivots sharply, giving me space to exit the room. “If you please…”
I do not…but I bite my tongue. Antagonizing this man seems like a poor choice. I should resist him, not blindly comply to his demands.
But I don’t resist.
Knowing I tempt fate if I don’t do exactly as he asks, I wage a war within me. Comply with his demands or resist?
I live in a world that no longer makes sense.
It takes every bit of strength within me to force my feet to move. Steeling my breath, I allow my hands to drop to my side and exit the room.
I shouldn’t, but it’s impossible to silence the thoughts swirling in my head. If I resist, what will he do? Lock me up in that room? Send me to the dungeon?
A house like this, a veritable fortress, surely has a dungeon.
Right?
Bad things happen in dungeons, and I know the limits of my strength. That’s something I won’t survive.
Until I can figure out a way to escape this place, I chose to remain out of any dungeons, whether they exist, or not. Which means giving ground and doing as he says.
The moment I’m out of the room, he shuts the door behind me. Glancing down, he takes a long look at the floor.
No.
Not the floor.
“Where are your shoes?”
“I left the ankle breakers inside.”
“Ankle breakers?” One of his brows wings up, curious or amused.
“That’s what I call them.”
“You can’t wander around in bare feet.”
“I can’t walk in four inch heels.”
“Why not?” He looks at me as if I speak in tongues.
“Because I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago and don’t want to turn a sprain into a break.”
“You are an interesting woman.”
And you’re an asshole.
Whatever.
I need to move his focus off of me and try to learn something about him.
“Are you going to tell me who you are? Or am I supposed to guess over dinner?”
“You are a breath of fresh air and an unexpected treat.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you become a nuisance.”
“A nuisance?” My brows tug tight. “Because I won’t wear the heels?”
“Because you stand up for yourself.”
“And I’m not supposed to?”
“No one goes against what I want.”
“No one?”
“None.” He delivers the words with a sense of finality, letting me know not to pursue that line of conversation further. “Not even my high spirited daughter.”
I suck in a breath, realizing how much this man terrifies me. With a flick of his fingers, he can end my life. That’s not an exaggeration. Not if a man like Matias works for him. I’ve seen what Matias is capable of and have no wish to find out what the man standing in front of me can do.
“I’m not lying. I really did sprain my ankle.” On cue, my ankle wobbles, nearly giving out.
To my horror, I clutch blindly for support, finding his arm. I steady myself and let go with a hiss.
“So you have.” He speaks as if he made the decision rather than me. It’s slight, but more than that, it’s a power move on his part. “In that case, we leave the ankle breakers behind.” The ghost of a smile curves the corner of his mouth into a grin.
He offers his right arm, elbow bent, but when I don’t accept the very obvious offer, his iron grip encircles my wrist. I flinch and pull away, but his fingers tighten around my wrist, making a show of his power.
He forces my hand under his arm, curling it around until I have no choice but to grasp his forearm. With another penetrating glare, it’s a not so gentle reminder there is no tolerance for resistance of any sort.
“Maximus.” He takes off down the hall.
“Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s Maximus, Maximus Angelo. Welcome to my home, Miss LaCroix. With time, you will learn to enjoy your new home and accept your place within it.”
“My place?” I pull to a stop and attempt to free my hand, but he places his free hand over mine, trapping it.
“Yes.”
“And what place would that be?” I think of my abduction as a short term thing, but he speaks of something that sounds a whole lot like forever. The whole room spins around me.
“You are not this naïve.” He tugs me forward, forcing me to walk beside him. When he places his hand over mine, locking me in place, I swallow down my revulsion.
“Naïve?” That lump in my throat tightens, making it impossible to swallow.
I’ve entered some sort of ninth circle of hell.
There’s little conversation during the long trek to the dining room. I reel from his comment, trying to convince myself it doesn’t mean what I think it means. Matias’ words return to me. Maximus will hand me over once he’s done with me. A chill works its way down my spine, lifting the fine hairs at my nape and on my arms.
“Do you like my gardens?” Maximus doesn’t slow his stride, giving me no time to admire anything.
Flickering gas lamps illuminate the halls we walk through, while the courtyards, and their gardens, sink into darkness with the setting of the sun.
I clear my throat, trying to loosen the hard lump that appears to have taken up residence there, but still can’t manage any words. Instead, I give a sharp nod and hurry my step to keep up with his long strides.
We come to an empty sitting room and he guides me inside.
Guide?
It’s more like he steers me where he wants. I hate this man. Loathe him on a cellular level. If I could kill him, I would. For me to consider taking a life speaks volumes. That’s how much I hate him.
“We will wait here until my daughter comes down. Would you like a drink?”
“Um…” There’s simply no way to find my words. With my world in turmoil and my future stretching before me filled with unspeakable horror, I’m completely stumped.
His daughter? I remember the callous woman I met earlier in the hall.
Boy, did she have a lot to say to me about knowing my place.
“Sit.” He practically shoves me into a chair. “I will bring you something to help you relax.”
I don’t want anything that will help me relax. I need to be hyper vigilant and ready to escape if the opportunity arises. Not to mention, he can slip anything into my drink, taking my free will with it.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“This isn’t for thirst, but to calm your nerves.”
“My nerves would be a lot more calm if I wasn’t a prisoner.” Knowing I’m not strong enough to free myself, I’ll try anything. Even if I’m trying to reason with the devil. “You made a mistake taking me. I really know nothing.”
He returns with two tumblers filled with amber liquid. Whiskey, I presume.
“I’ve accepted that, but you are valuable.” He hands me one of the glasses. “There is nothing doctored in your drink. I will not use such things to force you to my bed.”
There it is. Irrefutable proof of what he intends. Is it possible to kill another human with a whiskey glass? It’s all I have.
“I’m not—”
“Don’t misunderstand me, Senorita, or mistake what I want. Or what will happen. I do not need to drug you to get you in my bed. That is a decision you will make all on your own.”
“I will never sleep with you.” No way in hell would I ever make such a decision.
He lifts a single finger, silencing me. “Never is a word best used with caution.”
“But—”
“Do not underestimate me, nor mistake what I want from you. A person will do things they would not ordinarily do when presented with the proper motivation.”
“You’re out of your ever-loving mind.”
“No. I’m simply accustomed to getting what I want.”
“How is that’s me?” Can’t help it. I point my index finger at my chest.
“You are a fortunate consequence of unfortunate events, and I like to take advantage of such things.” He leans back, sipping from his glass. His eyes are on me again, roving where they will, without a care for what I want.
“Consequence?” I place the drink on the table next to me. “That doesn’t explain why I’m here.”
“You are here because, despite what you think, you’re a valuable asset.”
“Asset?”
“A tool to force my enemies into the open.”
“I don’t know what you think is happening, but I’m not your enemy. The diamonds were a mistake. I didn’t even know I had them. I’ve told you over and over that I’m a nobody. You can’t leverage anything from a nobody.”
“That is where you’re wrong.”
I hate the way he speaks; rarely using contractions of any kind. Makes him sound like a stuck up pig. Not a pig. The man’s a prick.
“I’m not wrong.”
“The outfit who rescued you intrigues me and you are my leverage to force them to reveal who they are, and who they work for.”
“Then you’re going to be very disappointed. I have nothing to give you and I’m not worth anything to the man who rescued me.”
“One man?” His brows lift.
Shit, it’s too easy to forget everything I say will be scrutinized, analyzed, and put to use against Booker and the rest of the Guardians.
“Hate to disappoint you, but like I said before, I was a second thought during the whole rescue. I’m worth nothing. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“In that, you are wrong.” He rests his chin on his hand. “You do not understand what makes men tick, or what they will do to protect one of their own. Your friends will come, and when they do, my men will be waiting for them.
“I’m a trap?” A sudden spike of fear rises within me.
“No. You, my dear, are the bait.” He chuckles softly, looking pleased with himself. “And while I have you, I will make use of your charms.”
Charms?
“Why?”
“Because I can.” He bolts forward and grabs my chin in his iron grip. His voice hardens and those black eyes of his swirl with malevolent darkness. “I will use their pretty toy and I will break you as payment for the inconvenience they have caused me.” My pulse spikes and roars past my ears as his grip eases. He releases me, shoving me into the chair while my entire body trembles.
“Why? Why would you do such a thing? I’ve done nothing. Why do you want to hurt me?”
“Because if you’re linked to who I think you are, I want him to pay for inconveniencing me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t need to know, and the beauty of this whole thing is I don’t have to do anything. They will come for you. All I have to do is bait the trap.”
Trap?
My head swims with what he says, making no sense out of any of it.
“Because your courier messed up the delivery of the diamonds?”
“You see only what you want to see.” He pulls out the rabbit’s foot from beneath his shirt and taps the metal clasp that holds the thing in place. “Diamonds are not the only things I find valuable.”
“What’s more valuable than diamonds?”
“Information, of course. Diamonds buy things, but information buys loyalty and obedience.” He gives me a look, waiting for a response.
“You make me sick to my stomach. As for what you said about me…” I can’t repeat what he implied about having sex with him. “That’s never happening.”
“Tell me…” He puts his glass down and leans forward. Reaching out, he touches my knees.
I jerk away, but he captures my knee in that iron grip of his. Fingers dig into my skin, bringing tears. There will be bruising when this is done.
“I will touch and more.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Do you believe you would be so brave refusing me if you knew your mother’s life depended on it.”
“Leave my mother out of this.”
