The Bandit (The Stolen Duet #1)

I knew the way Mian’s mind worked better than she did.

Since she wouldn’t be a guest in the traditional sense, the bed was left bare. My mother preferred zoned temperature control since she chilled easier than Dad and me. The temperature in her prison had been lowered to sixty degrees.

I smiled and pictured her face the moment she realized there was no surviving this. Everything she’d encountered during her time here was designed to overwhelm her. Comfort was the last thing she’d be afforded. This wasn’t the worst I could do to her. How far I went  would depend on her.

My father’s lessons didn’t include how to toss a ball or catch fish.

His lessons taught me how to be cruel without lifting a finger.

This was one of many reasons I was grateful for his lessons. Putting my finger on any part of Mian’s body would land us both in fucked up territory. That’s where Lucas and Z unknowingly came in. I’d lied to them earlier. If I ever found myself unable to resist her, I planned to unleash them on her. They’d willingly perform when I couldn’t, and I would no longer want her after they had her.

She wasn’t like the women we share. Once they were through with her, she would finally lose her hold on me.

I was counting on it.





   Chapter Fifteen


Behind enemy lines.

MIAN



I searched through the cheap plastic phone and found nothing. No contacts. No messages. Only one phone call had ever been placed. It must have been one of those throwaways I’ve seen my dad use.

Call the police…

After quickly dialing the three digits, I placed the phone to my ear and waited for the automatic connection. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Please, my son—” I didn’t get the chance to say more. The phone disappeared from my ear, and I lost my grip. I spun around and found another hulking body standing over me. This gooney was just as large as the last. His sharp jaws, amber eyes, and shoulder length blond hair was almost Nordic.

“No police,” he grunted with an American accent.

My body swayed and threatened to hit the concrete. Fear for my son replaced desperation at the knowledge I was being watched. Why hadn’t Angel just taken me when he had the chance? What game was he playing?

“Will you take me to him?”

He shook his head. “Not my orders.”

Before I could argue or scream as I should have, he disappeared with the throwaway. Fifteen minutes later, I hailed a cab.

“Where to?” the cabbie impatiently demanded. He was already eager to get to his next fare. I recited the address I was grateful to have committed to memory. He turned around and stared with a knowing gaze. Under normal circumstances, I could never afford this type of fair. I reeked of poverty. “It’s going to be two hours because of traffic.”

I swallowed my scream of frustration. I had already lost too much time finding a cab. Art’s home was hidden deep in the rich suburbs of Illinois where buses didn’t venture because everyone drove foreign cars—not to mention the only thing out there were rich families who lived miles apart.

The cabbie wasn’t done trying to dissuade me. “It’s going to be expensive.”

Slowly, I pulled the cash I had made from the pawn and with shaking hands, slapped it against the window dividing us. “This is nine hundred dollars. It’s all yours if you can get there sooner.”

Wordlessly, he turned back and gunned the engine. My head rested against the backrest of the cab. My innocent baby had fallen into the hands of a monster. And the boy who protected me for six years and taught me how to throw a punch was that monster.

After my mom had died, my father’s light and zest for living never returned. Gone were the days when he taught me how to make the best of life even during sad times. His lessons had become nothing but a myriad of harsh realities and truths.

But there was one lesson I’d never forget…

One day, someone is going to cause you pain. When that day comes, you show them what hell feels like.

Before Mom had died, my father would always promise he’d be there to fight all of my battles. When she was gone, I stubbornly never let that part of him go. Even when he did.

Angel was sickened by the hold my father had on me.

He knew how much my father’s absence hurt me. I knew how much he hurt me. My father knew, too. He just hadn’t cared.

“We’re here, Miss.” I jerked upright and looked out the cab windshield. The beautiful monstrosity was even bigger in daylight. It wasn’t the only difference. The stone wall that surrounded the acres was now adorned with a metal gate. On the left pillar was a keypad. I was running out of time and was unsure of how to get inside. He never mentioned a code. Had it been in the phone?

Frantically, I looked at the time on the dash.

I’m out of time.