A Captive Situation (Kings of New York)

“What. The. Fuck?” I was whisper-screaming like a freaking banshee as soon as I got in Jake’s truck.

His face was grim, but he shot off into traffic the second my door was closed. “Keep it down. She’s out for now.”

“What the fuck, Jake?” I repeated, facing him. I was not okay with this. “You kidnapped another girl? Is this becoming your next career? This is getting out of hand.”

He shot me a dark look, his mouth flat as he kept driving.

“Talk to me.” A storm was twisting inside me, making me nauseous and furious and so many other emotions. They were all circling together in a funnel in my stomach. “You want me to keep my cool, you start telling me everything. And I mean everything. No more of this bullshit where I only know so much.”

He shot me an incredulous look, merging onto the interstate. “We’ve been over this—”

“No, Jake. You told me one time while I was still the kidnapped person that part of your family is in the mob. One conversation isn’t enough. It doesn’t suffice. You start explaining and you start explaining now or I’m going to begin screaming my head off when we get wherever the fuck you’re taking us, because, and I cannot believe I have to utter these words, kidnapping girls is not okay.”

“I’ll tell you everything when we get back.”

I gritted my teeth. “Do you promise?”

“Yes.” His grip tightened over the steering wheel.

“Promise me.”

He jerked his gaze to mine again.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Fucking fine. I promise.”

This whole thing didn’t sit right with me, but then again, nothing had felt right since meeting Jake except touching Jake himself. Everything else was a hard pass.

Still.

I glanced over my shoulder at the girl. I’d hear him out. If I didn’t like what I heard or if it made no sense to me, I was pulling the plug. I didn’t care what that meant for me. Kidnapping and terrorizing an innocent girl was not something I could overcome. It was my line.

The girl was gorgeous. Young. I’d guess early twenties.noveldrama

Even though her face was turned to the side and some of her hair covered her face, her beauty was striking. Smooth light brown skin. Lips that no makeup could enhance. They were perfect. Plump and pink. Long dark eyelashes. Her hair was smooth and straight, and sleek. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but she didn’t need it. Her natural beauty was stunning.

Her nail polish was chipped.

Her jeans looked worn, frayed on the edges and not in a trendy way.

Her sneakers were almost falling apart. One of the shoelaces had been woven through some sort of jewel trinket. I squinted, trying to get a better look, but couldn’t in the dark. It looked like an infinity symbol?

Jake’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and cursed. Handing it over, he asked, gruffly, “Can you answer and tell him we got her? I’ll call him back once we’re situated.”

“Who is it?” The screen didn’t give me the answer. Walden Wiseass scrolled over it.

Jake’s lips thinned. “It’s one of the Mafia guys.”

The one he liked or the one he detested?

I accepted the call and repeated Jake’s instructions.

The guy was quiet on his end before drawling, “I was calling to let him know we have a window that we hadn’t counted on, but considering that’s not dire information, I’d much rather talk to you. Sawyer Matsen, tell me about yourself. How does my boy compare to that ex-fiancé of yours?”

I stiffened, holding the phone tightly. “Wha—how do you know about that?”

“This is my city. Jake has become a friend of mine. Though he doesn’t like admitting that. He still operates as if we’re enemies half the time. You don’t think I’m not going to do a thorough search on the woman he’s trying to defy gravity for?”

My neck flushed, but one thing stood out. “What do you mean he’s trying to defy gravity for me?”

Jake bit out a curse, yanking the phone from me. “Stop fucking with her. What do you want? I’m driving. Some of us don’t have fancy drivers and bodyguards.”

There was a smooth reply back, which had Jake relaxing, just a tiny bit.

I gave him the side-eye. They talked a bit more and by the end, the corner of Jake’s mouth curved in a half grin.

Was Jake friends with that guy? One of the Mafia heads. He would’ve been the second one that arrived at Graham’s house. The one who looked as if he had a sharp retort and a cruel smirk for everything, while enjoying that there were dead bodies upstairs.

I hunched down in my seat, a little uneasy about who was watching my family.

The call ended, but we didn’t talk the rest of the drive.

Once we got back to Detective Booty-Call’s place, Jake carried the girl up through the back door and into one of the bedrooms. I followed him, waiting in the doorway as he checked the windows and glanced around the room.

“What are you looking for?”

“Weapons.” His answer was curt.

Jesus. Weapons.

Because again, she’d been kidnapped. By us.

I was going to hell.

Appeased, he motioned for me to follow him. He waited until I was comfortable on the couch before he started. He told me about Creighton Lane. About his demands to take over Jake’s family business. He told me what he knew about Lane, his rise to power in Cincinnati, how untouchable he was, how he knew other law enforcement had tried to take him down and everything failed. Every single time.

“Is he more dangerous than your Mafia buddies?”

Jake hesitated before shrugging. “The West and Walden families run the city. There’s other criminal organizations under them, gangs et cetera, but everyone pays Trace and Ashton a percentage. Don’t be mistaken. Ashton’s helping me, and there’s a certain level of respect between us, but he does bad things. His best friend too. If people don’t pay the percentage, they’re dealt with. Sometimes that means they’re killed. In some ways, since Trace and Ashton took over, they’re more dangerous than their families were before. There’s no boards either of them have to go through. It’s them now, just those two making the decisions, and they’re a well-oiled team. They’ve been best friends most of their life. Ashton’s first business was cybersecurity. West was a Wall Street analyst. Ashton enjoys torturing. He enjoys being cruel. West can go ice cold. Those two are formidable, but Lane is a different beast himself. He inspires cultlike followers. It’s how he took over Cincinnati by the time he was nineteen. He ran the politicians by the time he was twenty-two. I’ve never read a profile on Lane that felt right, so I don’t totally know how to handle him. That said, he’s got one weakness.” He indicated the guest bedroom. “She’s his one weakness. He’s obsessed with her, and from the information I have on her, she doesn’t want to be in this lifestyle.”

A feeling of doom settled in my stomach. None of this was making that lessen.

He stopped to study the closed door, his forehead furrowing. “The reason we needed to take her tonight was because she’s usually protected by a small army of men. She wasn’t tonight. According to new information that Ashton got, the reason she didn’t have Lane’s small army following her is because he doesn’t know she was here. That won’t last. He will find her, except this way, he’ll have to go through me.”

I rocked back in my seat. That meant he was her stalker. I shot to my feet. “We are not going to hand her over.”

Jake went back to pacing. “I need to think.”

“No, Jake! No. He’s her stalker. She was here hiding from him. You can’t do that. We can’t do that.”

Jake folded his head down, his hands on his hips, and he shook his head slowly from side to side. “This is the only way I can get to him.”

“That you know of,” I retorted.

He spun to me, his face tight. Furious. “That I know. I know. I was an organized crime detective. I know how this world works from both ends.”

“This is wrong—”

He thundered, “I don’t give a fuck.”

My body wavered backward. His anger was palpable.

He choked out, “If it means you’re safe? If it means you’re alive? I don’t give a fuck. If it means you or her?” His eyes grew so fierce. “It’s you, Sawyer.”