Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.
Warnings: Language, and All 12 books.
A/N: Special thanks to Super Karen my fabulous Editor, and Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay, Lisa, and all the BC Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, translations, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!
Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers. I wish I had the time to answer each and every wonderful review that you send.
Don't forget to read Kashy's "Keep The Faith" … you don't want to miss it! Read and review it please, you'll be glad you did!
The Name Of The Game!
By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)
Chapter 26: Blind Man's Bluff!
Ramon sat back in his chair and sipped his martini, studying the two men sitting across the table from him. He and Che were in the Grill Room of the Four Seasons Restaurant for this first meeting with Dimitri Mikalov, the man who would be negotiating this deal for the Russians, and his second in command, Andrei Borkin. This was the place where New York City's power brokers gathered for lunch, where billion dollar deals were worked out on cocktail napkins, mergers made with a handshake, where hostile takeovers were plotted … the smell of money was in the air and no place could have been more appropriate for the launch of this 'business venture'.
Ranger knew the game the Russians were playing. He had played it himself before and was prepared for it. Ramon's reputation preceded him. He had worked hard to develop his notoriety as a psycho with a hair-trigger temper who would kill in a heartbeat, and he reveled in the fact that people feared him. He banked on that fear and intimidation to keep his troops in line. A few very public temper tantrums, a few slit throats, a few men gone missing and Ramon's reputation as someone you didn't want to cross had been cemented. But it also marked him as a man who could be dangerous and difficult to deal with.
The Russians needed to make sure that Ramon wasn't so crazy that he couldn't be depended on, so his lunch companions were observing him. Was he rational, could he be trusted, is this someone they wanted to do business with? The men sat around the table, making idle small talk, gauging each other. Business would come later, once trust had been established.
The men behind this project weren't Brighton Beach street thugs, those men were just the soldiers. These men, who wore tailor made suits and handmade shoes, were the generals, the leaders of their organizations like Ramon was of his. Mikalov and Borkin were the deal makers, and they were the men who would give Ranger the information he was waiting for.
There was a polite argument over the bill, which Ramon won, and the group strolled out to the elevators together. Dimitri Mikalov held out his hand, "Señor Escobar, it has been a pleasure. I walk every morning, will you join me tomorrow? I will call you with the time and place."
Ramon inclined his head, "It would be my pleasure," and he held out his hand. Mikalov extended his and the two men shook hands.
The contract had just been signed.
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Stephanie felt like she was dragging herself up from the bottom of the ocean. Her arms and legs were so heavy that she couldn't seem to lift them and it took her a couple of minutes to realize that she was tied up. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to drag her eyes opened or to lift her chin off her chest. Her muscles just wouldn't obey her and the pounding in her head made her feel like she had a hangover. She could feel herself sinking and tried to fight it, but she slipped into unconsciousness again.
She had no idea how much later it was when she came to, it could have been minutes or hours or days, she couldn't tell, but she heard somebody groan and she froze. It took a second before she realized that she was the one making the noise. The fog had lifted and thankfully, her head seemed to be a little clearer. She figured out that she hadn't been able to open her eyes because she was blindfolded; a cloth of some kind was tied tightly around her head. And when she tried to lick her lips she found that her mouth was covered, too, but with tape.
She vaguely remembered that she had been in Giovichinni's parking lot and there had been the guy in the van and she felt the metal against the back of her neck … Shit! That guy stunned me! She thought. From the way her head felt, she was pretty sure she had been drugged, too. She hadn't recognized him; he wasn't an FTA or anybody she had come in contact with through the PI business. She couldn't think of anybody who would want to kidnap her.
Only one name came to mind … Alexander Ramos. Steph wondered if the whole 'member of the Family' thing had been a set up to lull her into a false sense of security. Oh My God! The thought came to her with a jolt, maybe I'm on that Greek Island after all? If he did this to me I swear to God I'll SWIM home and strangle that old man! The fear that had been running through her was replaced by anger and the determination to get out of this and get revenge.
Steph could tell she was tied to a straight-backed chair, probably so that she wouldn't fall off of it. The rope or cord, or whatever it was, was wrapped around her, cutting into her bare upper arms and was why she couldn't lift them. She wiggled around a little to see how much movement she had, but it wasn't much since she was trussed up so tightly and the cord had almost no give. Her hands were in her lap and she could move her fingers, but when she tried to twist her bound wrists, the thin rope bit into her skin painfully. Short of turning into the Incredible Hulk and bursting through the ropes, she realized she wouldn't be going anywhere until somebody released her.
She tried to figure out where she was using her other senses would tell her something. She could be anywhere, she decided, but wherever she was, it was cool and quiet. She sat very still, trying to calm her breathing and her heart rate, and listened as hard as she could but couldn't make out any sound or movement. It was absolutely silent, no voices, no traffic noises, no TV or radio, no nothing, and the thought crossed her mind that maybe she had been left here to die. She shook that notion off; she couldn't let fear and panic take over, and she turned her attention back to figuring out where she was. Maybe then she would know for sure who had kidnapped her and why.
She couldn't smell anything either. There were no telltale odors that would give her a hint as to where she was being held. She didn't think she was in a warehouse or a basement; there was no musty or damp odor, no cooking smells, in fact, all she smelled was clean, like Lemon Pledge, maybe? She sighed and gave up, this wasn't helping.
Aside from being stiff and sore, having a crashing headache and a mouth so dry that she couldn't even swallow, she didn't seem to be hurt in any way. Steph tried to loosen the tape by making faces and trying to open her mouth, but even though it gave a little, she could tell that the tape was stuck to the skin on her parched lips. She turned her head and tried to rub her face against her shoulder in an effort to peel the tape off, but it didn't catch on her shirt. They make it look so easy in the movies, she thought to herself, too bad it doesn't work in real life.
All she could do was sit there and wait with her thoughts. She caught her head lolling to the side a couple of times and fought to keep herself awake, but eventually, sleep won out and she drifted off.
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Tank was up to his eyeballs in paperwork. It was already early evening and he had been at it since first thing that morning. He had always thought of himself as a man of action and being chained to a computer, crunching numbers and reading contracts and proposals, was his idea of hell. Now he understood why Ranger had hated it so much. This shit is a necessary evil when you run a business, but Jeez, he thought, it's never ending!
When his cell phone rang, he looked at it as a reprieve. He threw his pen onto the desk and slumped down in his chair, running his hand over his face and rubbing his burning eyes. He flipped the phone open and barked, "Talk!" His patience was worn thin by all this administrative crap.
"Tank," the tone of Hal's voice made him sit up straight. "We may have trouble. Nikolas Ramos is here. He was supposed to pick up Stephanie this morning but she wasn't here. Said he stopped by the house a couple of times and called all day but no sign of her."
"Did you see her today?" Tank left his office and headed for the Control Room.
"Yeah, I saw her on my way out. She went to run errands and told me she'd be back before Niko came to pick her up. I already called her phone a dozen times, and her family and friends, Jeanne Ellen, nobody's seen or heard from her. She's real good about checking in, Tank, you know that she'd never go all day without calling somebody."
"Okay, I'll call you back in a few." Tank flipped the phone shut and hooked it back on his belt as he stopped in front of Ram and Cal who sat at the monitors.
"Stephanie is still carrying the sat phone I gave her. I need a location, now. Cal, track her car." He looked over Ram's shoulder as he brought up the info.
"This says that the phone is at 555 Hamilton. Been there since 9:38 this morning. Hold on while I see what's there … Giovichinni's Meat Market. She coulda left it there while she was shopping."
"Her SUV's still there too … maybe she had car trouble and caught a ride with somebody else?" Cal looked up in time to see Tank stalk out the door and back to his office. "Guess not," he muttered as he and Ram exchanged a worried look.
Tank threw his office door open so hard that it hit the wall and slammed shut. He shoved the papers around on the desk impatiently, looking for a particular file. Finding it among the stacks of documents, he flipped it open and read the last entry then crumpled it up and fired it across the room. "Motherfucker!"
The GPS implant in Steph's scalp had malfunctioned and wasn't sending any information.
He picked up his utility belt and jogged out of the office toward the elevator, stopping only long enough to give Ram and Cal orders. "Get a team together and have them meet me at Steph's car. Start the search, call in the contract employees. You have authorization to utilize every resource."
By the time the elevator doors opened in the garage, Tank had called Hal. He hesitated a minute, then dialed Morelli's number as he climbed into his Hummer. He had lost one friend, he'd be damned if he would lose another!
It was dark when Tank pulled up next to Steph's SUV in the Meat Market parking lot. He took out his Mag light and checked the car over, his heart sinking when he looked into the front seat. The passenger side was filled with grocery bags, bread bags from People's and a cake box from Tasty Pastry. But it was seeing her purse dumped out on the driver's seat that, for some strange reason, really got to him. He looked at her wallet and phone, check book and cash, her defense spray and her hair spray lying there, all little pieces of Stephanie's life. And all evidence that she didn't leave of her own free will.
Headlights lit up the lot and Lester, Bobby, and Junior got out of a black Suburban. A minute later Morelli pulled in followed by Hal and Nikolas Ramos.
Something snapped when Tank saw Ramos and as the man walked toward Steph's car, Tank pulled his gun. He grabbed Ramos by the front of his shirt and pressed the muzzle of his gun against his forehead, backing Niko against the wall of the grocery store.
"Stephanie told me about your Family 'troubles'," Tank hissed. "If I find out that you or you Family," Tank practically spit the word, "had anything to do with her disappearance, I swear to God that you'll wish it was only the Russians who were coming after you." Tank and Ramos locked eyes, neither one blinking.
Before Tank finished talking, Niko's bodyguards were out of their car with their guns drawn and the RangeMen had pulled theirs as well. Morelli stepped between the two factions and held out his hands, "Okay, everybody calm down. We're all here for the same purpose and this isn't helping us find Stephanie. I want everybody to put their weapons away, starting with Tank."
Morelli walked over to Tank and put his hand on the big man's shoulder. "I don't want to know why you think he had anything to do with this, but if we find out that he hurt her in any way, I'll help you kill him myself," he said softly. Tank took a deep breath and stepped back, releasing Ramos. He holstered his gun and signaled the Merry Men to do the same.
Joe, the only armed man in the group who hadn't pulled his weapon, looked at Ramos' bodyguards. "Holster your weapons, now! If I draw my gun, it'll be as a police officer and I will place you two under arrest. Is that clear?" The two men looked at Nikolas, who nodded at them, and their guns disappeared under their jackets.
At that point the lights flipped on inside Gioviccini's and out in the parking lot. With a final glance around to make sure that everyone had calmed down, Joe walked over to the back door and rapped sharply on it. "I called the owners and they agreed to open the store so that we can get a look at the security tapes from inside the store and the parking lot. Tank?" Joe jerked his head toward the door.
Leslie Giovichinni opened the door for them and took the two men into the office at the back of the store. She played the security tape and they stood, watching Stephanie shopping the aisles of the small store. She smiled and chatted with Lucy Giovichinni as she was waited on in the Deli counter, laughed with the cashier, bagged her own groceries and juggled them through the back door of the store to the parking lot.
The outside security cameras were mounted on the top of the building and looked down almost directly onto Steph's SUV. They picked her up as she came out of the store to her car and loaded all of her bags into the front seat. She walked around the back of her vehicle and waited until a tall, slim man in a dark windbreaker, sunglasses and cap got out of the van parked in the next slot. He said something to Stephanie and pointed to the front of her car, then stepped aside and let her pass him.
As she bent down, the van's sliding door opened and another man leaned out and grabbed her, clamping his hand over her mouth. The first guy pressed a stun gun to the back of her neck as she struggled, then helped lift her unconscious form into the back of the van and slam the sliding door closed. He picked up her bag and dumped it onto the front seat of her vehicle and rummaged through the contents. He took something and shoved it into his jacket pocket, then hopped into the van and it took off.
Joe pulled out his cell phone and called the station. A Missing Person's Report couldn't be filed for twenty-four hours, but with this video taped evidence that she had been kidnapped, an investigation would start immediately. The Feds would be called in, CSI would be dispatched to go over the crime scene, investigators would question the store's customers to find out if they had seen or heard anything, the neighborhood would be canvassed and the video would be enhanced.
The search for Stephanie Plum had begun.
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The uniformed doorman at the St. Regis Hotel held the door of the limo open for Che and Ramon, "I hope that you enjoyed your stay with us and will come back to the St. Regis very soon," the man said with a smile. Che slipped him a hundred as he got into the back seat and settled next to Ranger. The door slammed and the long black car slid out into the late afternoon New York City traffic and headed for the tunnel to take them back to Ramon's compound in New Jersey.
Ranger leaned back against the seat and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Mikalov is one tough old bird, isn't he? He says he sees a lot of himself in me." Ranger looked at Che.
"Yeah, but he didn't last this long by being careless. Anybody who gets in his way just disappears. Be careful around him, he has trust issues. I gotta admit, that was a new one for me, doing business in a steam room."
"Well, you said he wasn't careless …" Ranger said with a snort, "when you're standing there, stark naked, facing another stark naked guy, you can both be pretty sure that neither one of you is armed or wired."
Che barked a laugh. "Is that what they mean by 'the measure of a man'?" They both laughed. "Oh, I forgot … Roberts called from the plane. They're running about an hour behind schedule, so the Vegas guys will be getting to the house just about the same time we do. Once this party is over, things should settle down again and you can focus on Mikalov."
Ranger tipped his head back and looked up through the moon roof of the limo. "You better call Dumb and Dumber and make sure everything is taken care of. Dios mio, I do not want to do this."
Habit made Che look toward the front seat where Diego, Ramon's bodyguard, and Ernesto the driver were taking. "Ramon, you know that it's a tradition for your birthday … wine, women, and song! Just what we all need!" He shot Ranger an evil grin and Ranger returned it with a glare.
"Wake me when we get to the house," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes as Che chuckled.
Che called the house to check on the preparations for Ramon's birthday party, then closed his eyes and dozed off as well. Ranger woke him as they pulled through the ornate wrought-iron gates at the bottom of the driveway to the compound. Before the gates had opened all the way, several other limos pulled up behind them, honking their horns, music blaring.
The cars parked in front of the house and by the time Ramon stepped out of the limo, a pair of Vegas showgirls were wrapped around him. Che went to greet the men who had been invited for the celebration.
"Nice party favors you guys brought!" Che said with a smile, as he watched Ranger try to extricate himself from the pair.
"There are more in the car," one of the men told him, "plenty for everybody."
Che turned and looked toward the front door. Tony and Paco were standing on the steps frantically waving him over. He jogged up the steps and they grabbed his arms and dragged him inside.
"Che," Tony said excitedly, "we got Ramon a special birthday present. Come and see her."
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A distant thump snapped Stephanie awake. She strained to listen, to make sure that she had actually heard something and not just dreamed it. She heard more thumps and the muted sound of a car horns honking. The low murmur of voices, bursts of laughter, all far-off and indistinct. Then men talking, their voices separating from the rest of the background noises and coming closer. Fear ran through her veins like ice water and she let her chin slump onto her chest, pretending she was still unconscious.
Hurried footsteps approached, one voice intense, angry and accented, another whining. A door slammed open to her right and she jumped, slightly, at the noise, her heart racing. "Her? Jesus H. Christ! Do you mean you brought him a woman? Where is she?" The man sounded furious.
"We got Ramon a present, Che. We wanted to show him that we could do anything his Vegas crew could do! He's gonna be real happy with her." She could hear the smile in the guy's voice.
The footsteps stopped short. "Santa Maria, Madre de Dios! You better tell me that she's a professional and you paid her to let you tie her up like that!" He hissed at them.
Stephanie's mind whirled. The man was speaking Spanish! All of Alexander's men spoke Greek. It wasn't Ramos who had her kidnapped! Who the hell was Ramon and why did they think he wanted her?
"No, no Che, you don't understand. We picked her out!" A different voice, a third man.
"What do you mean you 'picked her out'?" He hesitated a few seconds. "Dios Santo! Are you telling me that you kidnapped her?"
"Well, yeah. We wanted to bring Ramon a special gift, a tribute."
"What do you mean a tribute? What's so special about her?" the accented voice demanded.
"She's Stephanie Plum, the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter'. She used to be Manoso's woman," the second guy said proudly.
Oh God! She thought, did they kidnap me because they think I'm famous? Do they think that they can get a big ransom for me?
"Fuck! Turn on the lights, I want to see her!" He ordered. It caught Stephanie by surprise when his fingers touched her face, lifting her chin and she couldn't stop herself from twisting her head away from his hand. She heard his sharp gasp of surprise before he let out a long, shuddering breath, as if he were trying to control himself. His voice was tight and angry when he spoke. "When did you grab her?" She cringed when he ran his hand gently over her hair.
"Two days ago," the second guy said. "We thought Ramon would be back yesterday. But she's been gagged and blindfolded and knocked out the whole time."
She shuddered as a hand cupped her cheek, "I'm not going to hurt you, Cosita," the man said softly. "They'll take off the gag, but if you scream, you'll regret it. Do you understand?" She gave a small nod.
His rough fingers scratched at the tape that was stuck to her face, scraping her cheek with his nails until he loosened the edge enough to grab hold of it. She let out a small cry of pain as the tape was ripped off of her mouth, taking some of the skin from her chapped lips with it. She could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood. Her mouth was so dry that she couldn't even lick her lips and finally just sucked her bloody lower lip into her mouth.
"Idiota!" The accented voice barked! "Are you crazy? You plan on giving Ramon damaged goods? Some tribute!"
She tried to concentrate on what they were saying, but when she heard the clink of ice all she could think about was how wonderful it would feel in her parched mouth and throat. She couldn't see him because of the blindfold, but she felt one of the men walk over and crouch down in front of her and she shrank back in the chair. Not knowing what was happening, she went rigid and jerked her head away when something touched her bloody lip. It only took a second for her to realize that it was an ice cube and instead of pulling away from it, she turned her head and brushed her parted lips across the slick wet surface, moaning as she tried to suck the melting cube into her mouth.
The accented voice asked softly, "Thirsty, Chica?" All she could do was nod.
Again she heard the ice tinkle, this time in a glass, and in a few seconds she felt the rim touch her lips. With a small whimper, she tipped her head back and gulped the water as fast as she could, afraid that he would take the glass away from her. She had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. She moved her head tipping the glass more, spilling some of water down her chin and onto her chest.
Steph didn't stop drinking until the glass was empty and she slumped against the back of the chair, breathlessly licking her lips. The voice asked, "More?" and she nodded weakly, still unable to speak.
This time she drank more slowly and when she was finally done, he gently blotted her lips and chin with a cloth. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice still hoarse.
"De nada, Cosita! Are you hungry?" The man asked kindly.
"No," her voice sounded so small, even to herself. "But I really could use a bathroom," she whispered.
"Of course, Little One."
Two sets of hands got busy on the ropes that tied her, first her feet, then the ones that held her to the chair. Once she was free, she realized that she hadn't been able to take a deep breath because she had been bound so tightly.
She stretched out her arms and bent over from the waist, groaning as she worked her tight muscles. She tried to stand but it took a few minutes for her legs to support her. An arm came around her waist to steady her but she pulled away, so he took her arm instead and walked her slowly into another room. "You can remove the blindfold when I close the door, but put it back on before you come out." He untied her hands and closed the door behind him.
Steph pulled off the blindfold and quickly took care of business. She looked around the powder room for something, anything, that she could use as a weapon, but the linen closet and vanity offered nothing except bathroom tissue, liquid soap, and room deodorizer. The room had only one door and no window, so there was no hope of escape.
She stood in front of the mirror and washed her pale face. She looked scared even to herself, and she wondered how the hell she was going to get out of this situation. She was about to tie the bandana back over her eyes and open the door, when she heard the three men talking and she pressed her ear against the door to listen.
"You two dumb fucks kidnapped her! That's a Federal offense! Ramon is gonna kill you on the spot for bringing the Feds down on us!"
"Feds? Waddaya mean Feds? Nobody knows we took her. We heard all the stories about how the Vegas crew used to bring Ramon women and he'd play with them for a while and let all the guys watch."
"Yeah, and then he'd give them to his crew so they could have some fun, too," the second one chimed in. "And nobody ever saw them again. Nobody every came looking for them. No Feds ever came around!"
"Diego told us they dumped those women out in the desert. We figured Ramon could do the same thing here. We got the whole friggin' Atlantic Ocean to dump her in."
Stephanie's stomach rolled and fear skittered through her veins. There was nobody to save her this time.
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Stephanie had no choice; she tied the bandana around her eyes again, opened the powder room door and just stood still. Immediately, a hand took her arm, as if he had been waiting for her right outside the door, and he led her back to her seat. A few minutes later, with her hands tied securely in front of her and the ropes wrapping around her, holding her to the chair, she wondered if she should have made a run for it, if it would have done her any good at all.
The room was quiet and she was pretty sure that they had left her alone. She had that strange tingle down her spine again, fear she supposed. After all, her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest and she could hear her pulse thrumming in her ears. She fought the urge to cry, and bit her lip to keep her self from sobbing out loud. Crying wouldn't do her any good, just make her look weak.
The distant voices and boisterous laughter that she kept hearing started to come closer. It sounded like a party in the next room; she could hear salsa music now and women talking and laughing.
She jumped when she heard a door open close by and a group came into the room, all male voices. They came over and stood right in front of her. Silence fell over the men and she could only liken it to the silence in the Control Room when Ranger walked in. Someone in front of her cleared his throat, "Ramon," it was guy #1 talking, "Paco and I wanted to get you a special birthday present. Something that would prove that you can trust us and that we can do anything that the guys from Vegas can do. So we picked this out special, just for you."
She could feel them step aside and a murmur went around the group. A different voice, older, deeper, rougher, spoke from the other side of the room. "Why would you bring me a woman? Do you think I can't find one for myself? Am I too ugly?"
"No! Ramon, it wasn't anything like that … we thought you'd be surprised …"
"Surprised¿Esto es lo que me traen? Parece un ramo de flores marchitadas!" She could hear the displeasure in his voice. This is what you think I, Ramon Escobar deserves?
"Wait Ramon, you don't understand. She was Manoso's woman and now she belongs to Ramos. She's the woman that was in the magazine picture, see, here's her driver's license. We thought it would be a good way to show them that you're in charge now! Think about it, Ramon! Using his woman and then throwing her away like trash! That'll send a message that you aren't scared of anybody!"
Silence fell again and Stephanie held her breath. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt like she was being stalked by a wild animal. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him circle her. Fight or flight. She struggled against the ropes that held her.
His fingers tipped her head back and she could feel him studying her. He wrapped his hand around her throat and stroked from her jaw down to her chest. Splaying his fingers out, he slid his hand under her shirt, along her bare skin, brushing the narrow strap of her tank top first off one shoulder, then skimming across her collarbones to the other side. His touch was feather light as he trailed his fingertips down and slid his fingers inside the tank top, brushing across the swell of her breasts.
"Bring me a chair!" He barked and she could hear sudden movements around her. He sat down in front of her and took her bound hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her palms.
He leaned over and whispered to her, his lips barely touching her ear, his voice silky, "Tell me, are you Stephanie?" She gave a small nod.
"Do you want to go home, Stephanie?" He whispered as he ran his fingers over her cheek. Another small nod.
"Do you know who I am?" He said against the corner of her mouth. She shook her head 'No'.
"Do you know where you are?" He whispered against her lips. Another no.
"Are you afraid of me, Stephanie?" A nod. "Good, you should be. I hold your life in my hands." He ran his lips from her ear along her jaw to the corner of her mouth and she shivered.
"Were you Manoso's woman?" She didn't answer and he put his hands on her knees and ran them up under her skirt to her thighs.
"Were you Manoso's woman?" He said a little more forcefully and she gave a single nod in reply.
"Did you love him, Stephanie?" A nod.
"Do you still love him?" She hesitated and he moved his hands farther up her thighs. She nodded.
"Are you Ramos' woman now?" She shook her head "no".
He gentled his touch on her legs and slid his fingertips up and down her thighs. Moving his mouth back to her ear, he flicked his tongue against the shell, making her shiver. "Do you have a lover, Stephanie? Who warms your bed at night? Who touches all those secret places and makes you sigh, makes you scream his name?"
He got up and walked around the chair, standing behind her, his hands sifting through her hair. "So my sweet Stephanie, will you spend the night with me? Will you share my bed? In exchange for your life?"
His hand grabbed her chin and tipped her head back far enough to force her mouth open. He brought his mouth down on hers in a brutal kiss, rough and hungry, forcing his tongue between her lips. When she tried to bite his tongue he grabbed her hair and pulled it, hard. Stephanie whimpered at the sudden pain.
He broke the kiss as the men in the room clapped and hooted and he shoved her head forward. A sob caught in her throat.
"Wildcat! No wonder Manoso wanted you!"
The unmistakable sound of a butterfly knife flipping open made her shiver and panic filled her. She could feel the knife against her arm and she froze. The tip of the blade ran down her arm, not cutting, just a pinpoint, letting her know that it was there. The blade cut through the ropes tying her to the chair like butter and she could tell how sharp the knife was.
He brought his mouth to her ear again. "You haven't answered me, Stephanie. Will you spend the night in my bed?"
She didn't answer. Suddenly he bent and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her out of the chair, knocking it over. He held her, her back to his chest, and spun around, then lifted her in his arms and carried her with him up a flight of stairs as she kicked and screamed.
He turned at the top of the stairs and she heard a door slam shut just before she was thrown onto a bed. She scrambled to get off but rough hands grabbed her and threw her onto her back. He straddled her and she struggled against him. She tried to scratch his face and she clawed at his chest.
Twisting and turning under him, she managed to push off the blindfold as he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. She fought to free her hands but all the fight went out of her as she focused on the chain he wore around his neck. Dangling at the end of it was the pearl.
Her eyes flew to his face and their eyes met. She didn't see the cruel scars that carved through his face, she didn't see his blind eye with its misshapen pupil, she didn't see his lip pulled up into the permanent sneer. She only saw the beautiful face of the man she had loved and lost.
Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.
They had been together for eleven months, two weeks, four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-one minutes.
They had been apart for four months, two weeks, six days, eleven hours, and fifty-one minutes.
He had been dead for three months, three weeks, four days, nine hours, and sixteen minutes.
They had loved each other every moment of that time,
And now, they had found each other again.
TBC …
A/N: Please tell me what you would like to see happen in the next chapter … how should the story go?
Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and comments. I appreciate every one of them.
¿Esto es lo que me traen? This is what you bring me?
Parece un ramo de flores marchitatas! She looks like a bouquet of wilted flowers!