Lost in Silence (The Lost Series Book 1)(84)
“No, permanently,” he says a growl in his voice. Oh my, this just got interesting. “Name your price.”
I take a moment to ponder his request but when comes down to it I can’t let her get away with her bad behavior. Besides I knew soldier boy’s finances, he was pretty well set up but nowhere near the price I would consider letting her go for.
“Come now,” the amusement fading from my voice. “You and I both know you can’t afford my price, she’s too expensive for your blood.”
I hear him take a deep breath. Yes, I hit a nerve.
“I’ll tell you what asshole, you lay one finger on her, I will hunt you down and there won’t be a phone call to anyone you love. They won’t be able to identify your body, if they ever find it.”
“You’ll have to find me first,” I laugh at his threat.
“That, Kyle Roberts, you can bet your ass on,” I freeze, the smile fades from my face and anger boils out from my chest. “That’s right Kyle, I know who you are. You aren’t the only one with connections. You’ve messed with the wrong mother fucker.”
My brain scrambles and a sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I swallow hard. How does he know my real name?
“It’s too bad I won’t be here to see the look on your face when you find her,” I filter the words through my mouth but even I have a difficult time believing them. Breathing deeply, I focus on reigning in my control, reminding myself he’s still hours away. I’d be long gone by then and she’ll be dead.
“You don’t sound too sure Kyle,” I hear a smile in the words and a surge of anger spikes through me. He’s trying to distract me, to buy some time. I sense his desperation for just a second, tasting it on my tongue.
“I am sure,” I say, drawing the words out slowly, going in for the kill. “Do you think because you know my name, you can save her?”
“I’m keeping you on the phone aren’t I?” he asks and my rage spikes. I have been on the phone longer than planned. He’s good but I’m better.
“You won’t save her,” I state bluntly knowing the distance between us gives me the upper hand, over fourteen hundred miles of upper hand. The itch to touch her white skin, leaving my mark behind grows. “I’m growing bored now. Would you like me to give her a message for you?”
“I don’t but I have one last question for you,” his voice is steel, focused, sending thrills through me. “How’s Veronica?”
My blood freezes and boils all at once. I see red and throw the phone across the room watching it shatter on impact. My breath stuck in my chest, I swallow hard.
How the fuck did he know about Veronica?
Chapter 33
Alice
I heard his call to Hudson. Heard every word he said to him. It made me sick. Erik got what he wanted. Me. I was the one who deserved his wrath, his punishments and his threats. Not Hudson.
I curse myself. I should’ve run the day at the motel. I should’ve walked away from Hudson, snuck right past his truck and kept going. He wouldn’t be going through this right now if I had. He didn’t deserve any of this and now there was nothing I could do.
I woke from the cocktail he stuck me with in the car naked, blindfolded, ball gagged, and once again tied up hanging from something. Whatever he kept sticking me with was toxic and quick, I don’t remember anything when I come to. I’ve lost the feeling in my arms ages ago but thankfully my feet are firm on the ground, just tied at the ankles. He hung he just high enough to prevent me from getting any ideas, for fear of dislocating my shoulders. I don’t bother playing with the loose ties at my wrists, saving my strength. I have to figure out a way another way to get untied.
Somewhere nearby a door opens and I hear footsteps approaching. Erik, his shuffle and slight scuff against the cold concrete is one I’ve listened to for years. I hold my breath, waiting. They stop in front of me. My bare skin prickles against the chill in the air but I can feel the heat radiate from his body in front of me. If it had been anyone else, I would have leaned toward it, seeking its warmth.
“You cut your hair,” his voice is deep, menacing and it sends a chill down my spine. He takes another step toward me, closer now, he thread a hands into my hair, pulling painfully. “I don’t like it.”
I knew he wouldn’t like it, which is one of the reasons I let Marge cut it. Even if it hadn’t been damaged beyond repair from my bad bottle bleaching, I would’ve made the request. His fingers brush my rib cage, trances the lines of my rib bones. He yanks me to him.
“You’ve been such a bad girl, Alleycat,” he’s voice is husky, lecherous, against my ear. I shiver as the length of his body presses into my naked one. His hands roam my body, stopping at my ass. He roughly kneads it before lifting a large hand and bringing it down forcefully, the sound sharp, piercing the air. I gasp behind my gag, tears welling up. Thoughts of Hudson flood my mind, an attempt to block the pain.