Kidnapped by the Billionaire(55)

Oh excellent. She'd fallen in love with her captor. A man who had  revenge running through his veins instead of blood. A man who would  destroy himself pursuing it because he could not let the past go.

Like you're any better yourself.

Hell, she knew that. Constantly moving, constantly flitting from one  thing to another, pursuing academia because she had to fill the hole  inside with something. A hole that had only gotten wider now that she'd  found out about her father. Who knew how long it would take her to put  that behind her? And apart from any of that, hadn't she come here with  Elijah for revenge herself?

He'd glanced away from her, tugging her closer. Putting his phone in his  pocket, he drew her over to the edge of the walkway closest to the  river, where a wooden railing stood between the walkway and the river's  edge.

There were a couple of tourists beside them, looking at the view and  pointing out various landmarks on a map they held between them. On a  bench not far away was a man in a tan overcoat, reading a paper, a young  couple beside him laughing and talking.         

     



 

It was a beautiful day and it felt like all of New York was out here enjoying it.

A normal day.

She watched the crowd move past, feeling battered by the emotions  tangling themselves up inside her. Grief for Elijah. Hurt for him too.  Fear of what was going to happen, both to herself and to him. There  would be no good outcomes, would there?

"Good morning, Mr. Hunt." The voice was light, male, accented.

Violet turned and saw that an older man in a black coat had appeared out  of the crowds and was now standing beside Elijah, his arms resting  casually on the wooden railing. He was of average height, nondescript,  his narrow, sharp face directed toward the view in front of them.

She stared at him. Holy shit, was this Jericho? Europe's shadiest crime lord? Jesus, he looked like someone's bachelor uncle.

"Jericho, I presume?" Elijah's tone was arctic. He'd changed his grip on  her, his fingers now tight around her upper arm as if holding her there  to prevent her escape.

"Yes," the man said. "That is one of my names."

Elijah had turned around so his back was to the railing, looking at the crowds moving along the walkway. "Prove it."

The man laughed. "Tiresome of you. Why should I?"

"Because I'm not giving Miss Fitzgerald to any random prick."

The man was smiling, his attention on the water in front of him. "In that case you have my word."

"Your word?" Scorn dripped from Elijah's voice. "I don't give a shit about your word. Not when you've broken it once already."

"Ah. You're annoyed I changed the meeting time." Jericho shifted against  the railings. "Really, Mr. Hunt, did you expect me to obey all your  commands like a good little dog? I'm not that kind of man."

"I don't care what kind of man you are. If I asked for a personal  meeting with Jericho, then I expect a personal meeting with Jericho."

The man turned to look at Elijah. He was smiling pleasantly, a smile  that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's move all this posturing along,  shall we? Firstly, I don't like surprises, and learning of Fitzgerald's  death was a surprise I didn't need. Secondly, I assume the reason you  contacted me in the first place is that you've decided you're taking  over your boss's operations and want the same trade concessions he asked  for in exchange for the woman."

Elijah didn't speak, letting the silence sit there in a way that was familiar to Violet.

She supposed she should be appearing scared and trying to pull away to  make sure she looked like Elijah's unwilling captive. It wouldn't take  much since she was definitely quite scared already. And yet there was  something off here, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Jericho hadn't even looked at her, not once. Strange when such a  secretive man was willing to meet with Elijah just so he could get his  hands on her.

"The strong silent type, I see," Jericho went on when Elijah remained  quiet. "Useful in an employee. Except you don't seem the kind who  follows orders well, Mr. Hunt."

Elijah shifted and Violet felt herself pulled slightly in front of him,  so she stood between him and Jericho. This time, the man glanced at her  and then away again, completely without reaction.

"I told you I wanted to meet with you alone," Elijah said coldly.

Violet blinked, surreptitiously scanning the area. She hadn't noticed anyone but the general public.

Jericho lifted a shoulder. "You can't expect me to come without some sort of protection."

"Send them the fuck away."

Jericho lifted a brow. "You're in no position to make demands."

Elijah moved again and Violet felt something cold and hard pressing into  her side. She stiffened, her heartbeat suddenly veering out of control.  It was Elijah's gun.

"Send them away or I'll shoot her." Elijah's voice was flat and uninflected, terrifying.

Do you trust me, Violet?

He wouldn't shoot her, he wouldn't. She did trust him.

Jericho frowned. "That seems  …  drastic."

"You think I won't? She's nothing to me."

Violet knew he wouldn't harm her and yet fear threaded its way through  her bloodstream all the same. Turned out acting the part of frightened  captive wasn't so difficult after all.

"If she dies, you won't get your trading concessions," Jericho pointed out.

"Then I guess it all depends on how badly you want her." Elijah pressed  the gun harder against her. "Make a decision, prick. You have five  seconds."         

     



 

This was a bluff. That's all it was.

What if it isn't? What if you're not worth more than his revenge?

No, she couldn't think that. He'd promised her she'd be safe and she believed him.

Jericho was silent for what seemed like far longer than five seconds.  Then he sighed. "Very well, if it'll make you happier." He straightened  and made a flicking gesture with his hand. Instantly the tourists  leaning against the railings moved away, as did a man taking pictures  off to their left and the man in the overcoat on the bench.

Violet shivered. They'd been surrounded and she hadn't seen a thing.

"Now, shall we get to the point?" Jericho sounded bored. "The woman comes with me."

Elijah's hand tightened on her upper arm, his body a warm, strong presence at her back. "Come and get her then."

A crowd of rowdy teenagers obviously out on a school trip was coming closer, shouts and catcalls echoing in the air.

"Certainly," Jericho said. "Put your gun away first."

"Sure." Elijah's voice was calm.

And suddenly Violet found herself pushed out of the way as he lurched  toward Jericho, looking like he'd tripped over something. His free hand  came out, flailing, gripping onto the other man and pulling him close as  if he was stopping himself from falling.

Jericho cursed, starting to pull away, his hand reaching for something in his overcoat, but it was too late.

As the crowd of schoolchildren moved level with them, Violet heard the  sound of a muffled report. Jericho's eyes widened and his mouth opened  as Elijah slid an arm around him. It looked like he was suddenly unable  to stand.

Elijah frowned, looking deeply concerned. "Are you all right, sir?" he  asked, his voice carrying despite the noise of the school group.  Jericho's mouth moved but no sound came out. He'd slumped heavily  against Elijah, the color slowly draining from his face.

Elijah glanced once at Violet, a clear warning in his eyes, then he  lifted his head and started looking around at the crowds as if for help.  "Someone call nine one one," he said loudly, his tone a little  desperate. "This man needs a doctor."

People began to stare as Elijah helped Jericho over to the park bench  where the man in the tan overcoat had been. The young couple looked up  in alarm and scooted clear to make way. Then the young woman began  talking and moving in to help while the man took his phone out of his  pocket.

A small crowd began to gather, blocking her view of Elijah and Jericho.

Her heartbeat was loud in her head and she knew she should probably get  clear and wait somewhere quiet for Elijah until the fuss had died down.  Except she didn't want to. She wanted to stay near him, make sure he was  okay. Because it was obvious what had happened. He had shot Jericho.  He'd finally taken his revenge.

Are you sure you want to stay? It's over now. Perhaps he won't want you anymore now that he's gotten what he wanted.

She didn't like that thought, it made her feel small and cold. Made her  conscious of that hole inside her, the hunger that craved him and his  heat. That made her so vulnerable.

Trying to calm her breathing, she backed away from the knot of people  around the bench. But the cold feeling wouldn't go away and she couldn't  work out why she was now even more terrified than she had been before,  especially since the danger was over.

Then she backed into someone standing beside her.

She began to turn, her mouth already open, an apology at the ready. But a  hand came up and covered her mouth and nose, pinching hard and cutting  off her air.