Hearts of Glass (The Glass Trilogy Book 3) (5 page)

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Authors: Arianne Richmonde

Tags: #Arianne, #Richmonde, #Erotica, #romance

BOOK: Hearts of Glass (The Glass Trilogy Book 3)
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I stopped chewing, wondering if I’d heard him right. “No thanks.” I sounded cocky but my heart was thundering in my chest. I’d been dismissive of him, he’d rape me for sure, to punish me. Or strike me. But I also know that if I showed fear I’d be giving him what he wanted—and he’d rape me anyway, probably even more violently.

But to my amazement, he laughed again. “You don’t know what you’re missin.’ Most girls beg me to fuck ’em.”

“I’m not most girls,” I shot back through a full mouth. My sassiness was working. It was keeping him at bay. “Where’s Daniel?”

“The guy in the coma?”

“Yes, the guy in the coma. He’s still alive, right?” The man didn’t answer. “What do you know?” I shrieked, my voice an octave higher. I grabbed him by the T-shirt and felt a set of hard abs beneath the fabric. This guy obviously worked out. A lot.
Easy, Janie, don’t get too over confident, this man could break you in two . . . in more ways than one.

He held me by the wrist, restraining me. “Do that again and you’ll make my dick hard.”

I looked him square in the eye. But I was terrified. Just as I suspected . . . getting hysterical was turning him on. I kept my voice calm, even. “Tell me where Daniel is.”

“And you’ll fuck me if I do?”

“No, I won’t fuck you. And if you fucked me, I’d lie there like a stone. If that would give you pleasure, go ahead. Although . . . if I were in your shoes? I’d want a woman to reciprocate.” I eyed him carefully, and he said nothing. I guess I’d gotten to his pride. A cute looking guy like this would be used to women chasing him. This was Vegas, there was no shortage of women who’d find a crass, but physically attractive guy like him sexy. “I just want to know,” I carried on, “how much she paid you to bring me here, because if you let me go, I can double your fee.” I mentally thanked God for the Bellagio chip money. “I need to find Daniel, my boyfriend. My fiancée, actually.”

“Now I know you’re shittin’ me, ’cos he’s married to Dr. Jürgen.”

“Ah, so you
are
working for her? Thanks for the confirmation. I question that, actually—their marriage. Daniel would never . . .” I didn’t finish my sentence. The truth was I didn’t really know who Daniel was. Not the whole of him, anyway. There was the seed of doubt germinating in my mind. Maybe he’d made a foolish mistake and
had
married Kristin, in a moment of weakness? “Anyway,” I continued, “the woman is a crazy monster! Not to be trusted. Her sister died after being in a coma while she was in Dr. Jürgen’s care. Coincidence, don’t you think?
Not.
She’s a whack-job who needs to be stopped, and if you have any conscience whatsoever, any morals, you will let me out of here and lead me to Daniel!” I was crying now, the thought of Daniel lying there, helpless, was too much to bear.

My keeper swept his hand over his dark hair. “The dude is in a coma, there’s nothing any of us can do. And anyway, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, lady, cos no, I don’t have any morals and I don’t have that much of a conscious either.”

“Conscience, not conscious,” I snapped, gulping down my tears.

“Whatever.”

“You think a coma is that straightforward?” I demanded. “Even patients in a supposed ‘vegetative state’ can know what’s going on around them. I read about a team of neuroscientists that used state-of–the-art technology to communicate with a man in a vegetative state. He was able to relay information to them about his condition, saying that he was not in any pain. Not verbally but by studying and mapping the neural patterns flashing on their screen. Like a ‘yes’ produced a different neural signature than when he thought ‘no.’ You see? He is
not
a lost cause! I am not giving up on Daniel!” I hoped my little speech had convinced this man how urgent the situation was. I drained the last of my Coke and sprang up from the sofa. An instant head rush caused me to topple back down, landing with a thump on my coccyx.

“Whoa, be careful.” His hands shot out to steady me. “Easy, baby, you don’t want to bash your head again.”

His word, ‘baby’ filled me with fury. How dare he talk this way to me? My eyes were daggers, my twisted mouth poison. “You make me sick,” I mumbled, “doing something like this for money.” I wanted him to hear me, but at the same time talking to him this way was risky. All I could think about was getting to Daniel, but I was probably going about it the wrong way.

“It
was
the money, I admit. But being holed up in here with you gives me a
whole
lot to look forward to.” He smirked. “Get it?
Holed
up? A
hole
lot to look forward to, as in a ‘
hole’
to look forward to? Your sweet pussy bein’ that succulent little hole.” He laughed again, his straight white teeth making me wonder why he was involved in shady dealings when he could have practically found work as a fashion model.

I screwed up my face as if I’d eaten lemons and cockroaches all in one go. “You disgust me,” I muttered. I looked around the room for a weapon. My purse was hooked on the edge of a wooden chair. It wasn’t that heavy though. I wished I’d been wearing spiky heels, but my Converse sneakers were useless. There were no ornaments, no lamps, no fork or knife accompanying the sandwich he’d brought me. The room was sparse, except for this sofa, a table, two chairs, and one of those oversized beanbag loungers on the floor.

He stroked my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You and me will fuck, baby, you’ll come a thousand different ways, then you’ll forget about this Daniel dude, I guarantee.” He took my empty plate and glass away, and swaggered toward the kitchen, and I instantly regretted that I hadn’t thought of smashing them over his dumbass head.

There was no point arguing with this half-witted jerk, nor trying to convince him. So far, he hadn’t manifested a violent side, but that didn’t mean I was safe. He was strong and muscular and could overpower me with his little finger. I needed to find his Achilles’ heel, or win him over in some way to get the information I needed, without compromising myself.

And get the hell out of here.

7

Daniel.

A
KALEIDOSCOPE OF colors is fragmenting my brain into puzzle pieces. I am trying to fit them into the right places. I see my father, and my childhood dog, Smokey. They’re waiting for me, calling my name. It’s getting brighter now, a white light looming around my head like a halo.

A then a burst of pale gold engulfs my whole body . . .

8

Janie.

I
GOT UP from the sofa—slowly this time—and cased the room. The exit door must have been in the kitchen, where the guy was right now. I realized I’d never asked him his name. I found him washing up my plate. His tall frame towered over me.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, winking at me.

The exit door was right in front of me.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, reading my mind. “It’s locked and I have the key.”

“What’s that noise?” I asked.

He cocked his head. “I been wonderin’ the same thing.”

“Where does this door lead?”

“Corridors. Laboratories. This is where Dr. Jürgen works.”

I pressed my head up against the door. “Sounds like a bunch of animals. Locked up animals.”

“You freakin’ me?”

I looked at him. “She’s a neurologist. You know what they use animals for, don’t you? Vivisection? Experiments? But I guess if what you said is true about not having any morals, you wouldn’t give a damn.”

“Fuck!” he said. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved in this!” His face changed from menacing man to concerned guy in a heartbeat. For the first time, I felt hopeful. This man did have a heart after all. Maybe I could persuade him to let me go.

“What’s your name anyway?” I asked.

He covered his hands over his face. “I can’t do this shit. You serious? You think that’s animals we hear? Locked up in cages? Monkeys and shit?”

“It sure sounds like it. Look, whatever your name is, you don’t have to do this. Keep me here against my will. Like I said, whatever she’s paying you, I’ll pay you double.”

He stared at me, eyeing me up and down. His tough guy demeanor all at once left him as he let out a long sigh and slumped his shoulders. “Fine, let’s get the fuck out of here. I promised I’d keep you here until he was transferred to another hospital—”

“Daniel?”

“Yeah, Daniel. Dr. Jürgen wanted me to keep you here—keep you from doing mischief. Nobody was going to get hurt, least of all you.” His accent had suddenly become normal, no longer the working class tough guy with an attitude.

I felt the lump on my forehead. “So what about this?”

“You bumped your head getting out of the car.”

“So why can’t I remember? Why are the last couple of days a blank?”

“Because Dr. Jürgen gave you something. I don’t know what it was . . . an injection of some kind. Something to knock you out till you were safely locked up here. Look, she told me to distract you . . . entertain you. Get into your panties if I could. Told me how you were obsessed with her husband and stalking him. She didn’t want to call the cops on you but wanted you out of the way. She told me you were a danger, not only to yourself, but to her husband Daniel. She was scared you’d pull out his tubes or something. I thought I was doing everyone a favor.”

“Wow, she’s really deranged, that woman. She’s the one who’s likely to pull out his tubes! And I cannot believe that Daniel is her husband!”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who to believe.”

“Oh, because she wears a white coat you should believe
her
? She’s a fucking lunatic! She drugged me once before. Daniel had woken up from his coma—I was there—yet suddenly he was out like a light the second she came on the scene. Her sister was married to Daniel before she died. He proposed to me! He would have told me if he’d married her. Daniel and I are in love! We’re engaged!”

“Look, Janie. Dr. Jürgen is a real doctor. I saw her in action at the hospital. Met nurses and other doctors who work for her. She’s the real thing, not some phony. You? You I don’t know from Adam. All I can do is take her word for it.”

“Well her word is
bullshit,
please believe me!” I yelled out. But the way he was looking at me showed me that he
didn’t
believe me. Not one bit. I tried another tactic. “How much is she paying you?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“That’s it? Ten grand? For breaking the law?”

“Hey, I don’t know where you come from but ten grand for a couple days work is pretty darn fine by my standards! Got to pay my bills, you know.”

“So what are you, anyway? A security guy? A bodyguard or something? How did she find you?”

He raked his hands through his dark hair. “You think I look the part then, huh?” He grinned at me.

“The part?”

“Yeah, you think I’m doing a good job of acting like a tough guy?”

I stared at him. This was surreal. Who the hell
was
this person? “You never did tell me your name,” I said suspiciously.

“Remy. Remy Foxton.”

“You say that like I should know who you are.”

“Maybe you seen me on TV.”

“You’re a fucking
actor
? You’re kidding me, right?”

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