Dangerous Thirst (Possessing Her Book 1), page 21
A small part of me wondered if I should confide in him about Hunter. I didn’t have to tell him everything, but he might be able to provide some sort of security so that I wouldn’t be alone in defending myself against the man who had proven to be too fast and strong to combat.
Still, I found it impossible to snitch on Hunter. I felt attached to him, a strong desire to protect him at all costs. When Detective Carisi finally closed his notepad before sliding it into his suit pocket, I thought the nightmare was over, having satisfied his curiosity.
Leading him out of the kitchen, I was anxious to be alone again as my intuition told me it was time to end the meeting. He must have felt my energy, because out of nowhere, he turned to face me, walking forward until I was pushed against the kitchen island, unable to move back any farther.
He was hovering over me with intense eyes as he glared down at me, his eyes drifting to my lips and then my neck. He paused, stepping closer, and I gasped with shock, my legs going weak beneath me.
How could this be happening to me again? After Hunter, I thought I would be safe, but this detective was clearly not respecting boundaries, and I knew he would be trouble. His breath was warm against my skin, and I was grateful I had put on the sweatshirt, adding an extra layer to conceal my aroused nipples.
“You know, in my line of work, I meet a lot of girls in tough situations, Olivia.” He rubbed his hand across my neck, and I froze, unable to flee as my heart desired.
“I’m not in a tough situation,” I breathed.
“Oh, I think you are. You see, you have bruises on your neck. I know a lot of women in abusive relationships are ashamed by the fights, and they want to hide it from their friends and family. Maybe you didn’t have a friend at all. I think your boyfriend knocked you around a little bit, and you’ve been hiding out waiting for the bruises and swelling to fade,” he guessed, taking a step back to watch my reaction.
The space between us allowed me to loosen up after feeling my whole body tense from his close proximity. I wanted him to leave, but I knew I couldn’t ask a police officer to go. It was strange to be under control again, though it was nothing like Hunter.
Detective Carisi didn’t have the dominance it took to control me the way Hunter did. Even his confrontation was too nice. Hunter would have grabbed me, wrapped his hand around my neck in the way he did when he left the bruise the detective noticed.
“Take my card, Olivia.” He handed a small white business card to me, and I took it without looking up to his eyes. I didn’t want any further contact between us.
It was obvious that Detective Carisi didn’t believe me, and I doubted it would be our last interaction. He had an axe to grind, probably from seeing women abused by men so regularly, and he was going to check up on me.
In the back of my mind, I thought it was a good idea because I needed a new layer of security now that I had a lunatic stalking me. I was afraid to check the phone that felt like it was on fire in my back pocket as I contemplated whether or not to turn it back on when it could be a tracking device.
“You can call me if you need help,” he said sternly.
I found my voice as I led him to the door. “Okay, I will. Thank you for coming by.”
He followed closely and left without incident. I locked the door behind him and fell to the floor, overwhelmed with emotion. The past week had been too much to handle, but now having to lie to my friends and strangers, for a man who had held me against my will, it was all bubbling over.
This wasn’t who I was, but as I stared at the business card still in my hand, I wondered if it was who I would have to be now that my life could never go back to the Olivia Blanche I used to be.
37. Chapter Thirty-Five
Hunter
The days were beginning to merge together as the lines in my life blurred from personal to professional without warning. My law firm had been doing some casework in the criminal department, so I had gotten a little research from colleagues to help me piece together the information given to me by the blackmailer before he slipped out of consciousness at the drop-off.
He had said that the Maxwell street syndicate was kidnapping Olivia because she was the daughter of the leader of the Bianchi cartel, a rival gang. To me, it didn’t make much sense, but I was determined to get to the bottom of the fiasco, no matter what it cost me.
Years at a law firm will make you plenty of enemies, but you’ll also gain friends in important places. My police and street connections had given me more information than I could process, pointing me to the Maxwell syndicate’s major headquarters on the south side of town.
Olivia’s father was the don of their rival gang, but I thought it would be pointless to follow the Bianchi cartel. As far as I knew, they had no idea about the kidnapping and therefore wouldn’t be looking for me. Olivia was back in town, but I doubted she would alert her father after the fear I instilled in her.
Then again, that fear didn’t persuade her to follow my instructions. And now, her burner cell was turned off, making it impossible to track her. I was pissed beyond words not knowing where she was, but lucky for her I had bigger fish to fry. The Maxwell thugs would be after me for retaliation for what I had done to their handlers at the drop-off. It was only a matter of time before they found me.
Taking extra care to hide my identity, I rented a car and stayed away from my job and condo, knowing they would look for me there first. Now, walking down the street listed as the headquarters’ location, I found it hard to identify where they could be meeting. I was just about to give up, assuming my contact had given me false or outdated information, when I noticed the discreetly placed door, painted the same color as the exterior, which made it hard to notice.
Crossing the street to observe, I noticed the sign that read Appointments Only hanging next to the door. They were posing as an import and export business, but it was obvious there wasn’t much business going on. This was a front, and I needed to know everything there was to learn.
I went back to the black Audi sedan I’d rented and drove it to an inconspicuous spot, certain they couldn’t see me, although I could watch them unobstructed. One after another, men came to the door, looking up at a camera before a loud buzz unlocked the door.
I reached into the back seat and grabbed a notebook to jot down descriptions of every man I noticed as well as license plate numbers from their black SUVs. My friend in the criminal defense department had given me a folder of the main players in the syndicate, with a full-page printout of the man who was supposed to be the leader. He looked a bit older, his dark hair thinning and his stomach hanging over his belt more than that of the youngsters I watched come in and out of the headquarters.
I watched for hours, studying their routine, before a man in a suit exited the building, flanked by men as if he were some type of superstar. It was apparent that he was important, and then he looked in my direction, his face like stone as he appeared to look directly into my car before turning away. It was him, the leader of the gang.
I turned over the ignition in preparation for his departure, sure he would lead me to more information about the Maxwell syndicate. Out of nowhere, a younger guy in a suit ran up, the handlers parting like he was the chosen one, making a path to the boss.
The two men hugged, and then the boss handed the younger man an envelope before tapping his shoulder and climbing into the waiting SUV. I scribbled down the license plate number and watched as the younger man waved to his boss before looking over his shoulder and crossing the street. He climbed into the driver’s seat of a red Camaro and drove right toward me.
Ducking down, I peeked over as he passed to see he was driving alone. Watching in my side-view mirror, I waited for him to make a right turn before I made a fast U-turn to follow him.
My initial plan was to follow the boss, but I figured if this man was important enough to speak directly with the boss, he might be important enough to have some information about Olivia or even my blackmailing. I needed both—the evidence that could convict me and send me away for life, and the key to understanding what role Olivia played in everything.
I’d decided that I would base her punishment on her involvement. The more she knew, the more she would hurt. For that reason, I wanted her to be as guilty as possible so that I could fuck her into submission without an ounce of guilt.
The man drove slow and cautious, which made it more difficult to tail him. Knowing I couldn’t alert him that he was being followed without expecting severe retaliation, I kept at least three cars between us.
His first stop was a massage parlor. I parked across the street, watching as he ran inside. He spent only a few minutes out of my sight before returning to the street, carrying a manila envelope as he jumped back into the Camaro.
Next up was a seedy bar that looked abandoned. He repeated the routine, running inside for just a few minutes before returning with an envelope. By the fifth stop, I realized he was making the runs for the boss, checking up on business before collecting the rent.
Gangs charged local businesses for everything, a tax for doing business in their territory, and many of the businesses were simply fronts for the organization. The massage parlors were likely prostitution rings, and the bars were great ways to launder money.
By the time the mystery man returned to the Maxwell syndicate headquarters, he was carrying a large stack of the envelopes, holding them under his arm as he made his way to the café next door. I watched from my car as the boss pulled up in his SUV, then exited the car to join the younger man at a small round table.
He opened one envelope and cash spilled on the table, confirming my suspicions. The boss looked impressed, patting him on the back before standing to leave. I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but I was certain I was on the right target.
The man making the rounds was trusted by the boss, and I needed to see what else he could lead me to. Watching him closely from across the street, I wondered who he was and why he had not been included in the report of top bosses from the gang. None of my notes talked about a lieutenant with a description anything like his.
He was tall and muscular but not threatening. If I saw him on the street, I would never think he was connected to organized crime, which was probably an advantage for him. People wouldn’t expect a pretty boy to be involved with one of the most lethal crime families in the country, so he was best to handle the day-to-day activities without drawing extra attention.
Hours passed before he made his way back to the Camaro, and again I followed him, this time to a condo building. He parked outside of the gated community, which to me meant he didn’t live there or he was paranoid. Either way, it made my life easier because I could easily watch his car and know when he left.
It was impossible to track his steps inside the condo, but at least I had the car. Pulling up a few cars behind him, I parked the Audi and made myself comfortable, prepared to spend the night if I had to.
Tapping on my smartphone, I dialed a detective from my law firm. As always, he answered on the second ring. “Hunter! What can I do for you?”
“I need a trace on a plate,” I explained before rattling off all the license plates I’d recorded over the day.
He gave me a time to call him back for the results, and I ended the call, returning to my notes. I studied them like I was in law school, memorizing everything I could about the Maxwell crime syndicate.
They would be after me in a matter of days, and I needed to be sure I was ready whenever they did make an appearance. Once the night grew dark, I assumed my target would be staying the night and drifted off to sleep with ease.
The Camaro was still there when I woke a few hours later, unable to sleep long due to discomfort and paranoia. Again, I studied the notes and made more observations about suspicions I’d had over the course of the day.
An hour later, I saw the brown-haired man I followed the previous day heading out of the gated condominium community. He was looking over his shoulders like he might be followed, so I made sure to follow loosely as I trailed him through the quiet neighborhood.
First, he stopped at the Maxwell headquarters, staying inside for just under an hour before returning to his car to make a few runs. He hit a handful of massage parlors, a barber shop, and a strip club before heading to a residential area.
It was the first time he left the south side of the city, and I was interested to see where he was going. Unlike earlier, his driving was less cautious as he sped through lights and made sudden turns as if he was eager to arrive wherever he was going. Without knowing where he was going, I had an inkling that this would be a big piece of the puzzle.
Suddenly, he turned down a street that felt too familiar, like a place I’d been long ago. He pulled to a stop beneath a large maple tree, and it all came back to me. It was familiar because I had been there, the night I took Olivia from her bed.
On cue, she opened the door, smiling before inviting the man in. My blood boiled as my teeth clenched so tightly I thought I might bust a vein. Not only was Olivia involved, she was sleeping with the enemy.
The thought of that scumbag touching her made my fists ball in fury, ready to destroy him before punishing her until she never wanted to be with another man in her life. It was even worse than I thought.
Not only did Olivia have a role in her own kidnapping, she was working with her father’s enemy. But for what? How could she be so dangerous and conniving, yet appear so innocent and clueless? If she had really pulled this off, she deserved an Oscar, because nothing about her made me think she was capable of what was now apparent. She was a snake, and she would pay for how she’d destroyed my life if it was the last thing I did.
38. Chapter Thirty-Six
Olivia
“Detective Carisi! I wasn’t expecting you.” I smiled.
My day was packed with one appointment after the next as I prepared the house to turn into a home. The detective looked undeterred by my shock, and in the light of day, he was even more handsome than I remembered.
“I just wanted to check in on you. Can I come inside?” he asked.
It was a bad time, but he was only trying to do his job, so I decided not to push him away. “Okay, but it has to be quick. The furniture store agreed to redeliver my order today.”
“Did they try to deliver it before?” he asked, and I kicked myself for sharing too much.
After lying about my disappearance while Hunter held me captive, I didn’t want to give him a reason to suspect any foul play. Missing appointments was a clear indication that I had to alter plans I already had set in motion.
“Yes, but they had the wrong address,” I lied again. It was getting easier to make up stories on the fly, and I wondered if that was all a part of the new version of me.
“I hate when that happens.” He smirked, but I could tell he didn’t believe my story.
“So, were you just in the neighborhood, or did you have more questions?” I tried to skip through the small talk and figure out why he’d shown up at my house unannounced again.
“Yeah, uh, why do you have such a big house for just you? Or is there someone else here?” He looked toward the stairway with a raised eyebrow.
I giggled at his attempt to lure information from me. He was charming and cute. His hair hung just to his neck, and he brushed his fingers through it as he looked in my direction, his hazel eyes changing colors in the light.
He had to be the most handsome detective on the force, because when he looked at me, I felt myself relax and my stomach muscles tighten. He was the type of man who knew he was cute and looked at women like he was a treat just for them. I could feel him undressing me with his eyes as he watched me move toward the kitchen.
“Don’t worry. There’s no abusive boyfriend to worry about, just a few crazy friends.” I shrugged, hoping I sold the story better this time.
“So, why all the space?” he repeated.
“I’m opening a foster home. It’s all for underprivileged children, and in a few days, it’ll be a lot louder and chaotic around here. I thought I told you about it.” I frowned, trying to remember if I had mentioned it during our first visit.
“Hmm … Maybe I just forgot.” He scrunched his eyebrows together, struggling to recall the memory.
It annoyed me a bit that he hadn’t listened to me, but I had to remind myself that I was just another case to him. Detective Carisi probably checked up on a dozen women a day, pretending to be interested in their cases before moving on to the next case without so much as another thought.
He was good-looking, but the attraction was nothing compared to the way I felt about Hunter. It was his undivided attention that captivated me. The way he cared about nothing but me and paid close attention to every detail I told him. I could never lie to Hunter because he didn’t forget anything.
It was crazy to admit, but I missed that attention and the safety he provided me. Spending every second with him was the first time in a long while that I felt comfortable, sure no one would hurt me. Then again, he could have been the one set out on hurting me after he sent me across the country with a bogus story about crime lords out to get me.
The doorbell brought me back to the present, and I excused myself to let the movers in. I had ordered furniture for four rooms and knew it would take a lot of time to get everything set up, so I figured it best to bid the detective goodbye.
“I’ve really got a lot of work to do. Is that all you needed because this is going to take me a while. Thanks for stopping by.” I motioned toward the door, but Detective Carisi stood up and took his jacket off like he planned to stay for a while.
“Oh, I can help. It looks like you’ve got a lot to do.” He shrugged.
A smile spread across my face as I considered the offer. He was definitely strong—I could see that from the way he filled out his shirt—but what good could come from him hanging around my house?
In a way, I figured it might be good to keep him as a friend because the kids would need a male figure once they moved in, and who better than someone who worked for the police department?
