Locked Out (Locked In Love, an Alpha Billionaire Serial)(Volume 2) (5 page)

BOOK: Locked Out (Locked In Love, an Alpha Billionaire Serial)(Volume 2)
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That’s when my heart falters and my smile drops. I look inside the box.

 

This time something is empty when it shouldn’t be.

 

 

 

 

Elise

 

Locke looks like he’s going to explode. His face is red, his hands trembling with rage. Yet I’m not worried, or frightened of him. He’s making an effort to not burst around me. In fact, if anything, it feels like he’s still being careful with me, protecting me. It’s sweet, but I don’t need it.

 

I need to catch the son of a bitch who tied me up. And, judging by the disbelief Locke is still exhibiting, probably stole the Kane Ruby.

 

A man in tails peers in the door. “They’re ready for the ruby, Mr. Locke.”

 

I bite my lip, ready to see Locke break down. After all, not only was the ruby stolen, but it had been stolen
during the auction
.

 

I want to be mad and scoff at him. He practically invited thieves into his home!  But this wasn’t a small theft, and while his arrogance riles me, I can almost understand why he did it. The challenge.

 

I get that. I have a hard time walking away from challenges, too.

 

Which is why Jameson Locke is a poor match for me. How can we both win?

 

The poor man in tails is waiting, his face falling. “Sir, I hate to be a bother but--”

 

Jameson twists, his fist slamming into the wall. The menace on his face is scary and the man flinches. I don’t. I’ve seen this kind of anger before. My brother, when he discovered my father had been caught and was going to be locked away, displayed the same kind of rage.

 

This gives me pause, and I make a mental note, adding it to all of the others.

 

“We’re going to have to auction something else,” Locke sighs. In a flash, he’s composed again. I’ve seen this trick a few times now, the re-masking, and it makes me cold. He’s too good at it.

 

“What else do you have to sell that can compare to that ruby?”

 

His eyes squeeze shut and, for the briefest moment, agony flits over his features. “My mother’s diamonds.”

 

My own face is schooled, but my stomach drops. His mother’s jewelry? What could she have that was on par with the ruby? And how is he able to part with it?

 

Locke swoops over to me, kissing me violently on the mouth. My breath catches and I am suddenly off-kilter.

 

“I have to grab the diamonds and explain-- well, tell the guests something, at least. Are you able to find your way to your room? Do you feel safe? I can arrange for an escort--”

 

I shake my head. “Not necessary, I can find my way. Go save your auction, Locke.”

 

He leaves, and my lips continue to tingle as I’m left alone.

 

Venturing into the halls is not as easy as I made it out to be. Forced bravado is something that comes too naturally. I don’t like help and I especially don’t enjoy feeling weak.

 

But currently, the only thing I’m wearing that feels okay are my Chucks. I left the remnants of the dress in the safe room. My hands clutch the robe tightly around my chest and I make my way quickly to my room, my heart pounding and eyes darting with each step.

 

By the time I reach the room, I’m a nervous wreck. I slam the door behind me and twist the tiny bolt, locking everyone out.

 

As soon as I’m dressed in my comfortable skinny jeans and t-shirt, I know I need to start putting the pieces together. I’d brought a small notebook and pen, and pull them out.

 

  1. Jameson Locke wanted there to be a break in.
  2. There is a competitor in the house.
  3. The Man in Black knew of Jameson’s… preferences.
  4. Jameson seems to take the theft personally--he might also know the Man in Black.
  5. Someone knew to loop the video. They had to have time to do it, and knowledge of Locke’s home.
  6. Locke is an accomplished liar.

 

As I read the list several times, I notice the shift from ‘Jameson’ to ‘Locke.’ It was unintentional, but telling. Flipping the page, I force myself to make another list.

 

  1. Locke is too attractive.
  2. When I’m near him, I’m bad at my job.
  3. He’s very good at sex.
  4.  

 

Four.
I want to know what he does in the Palace of Perversion.

 

I can’t bring myself to write it down. Instead, I focus on number two.
When I’m near him, I’m bad at my job
.

 

That is only half true. Some parts of my brain, the curious ones, don’t shut down around him. If anything, they fired even more, wanting to know everything. How did he make so much money in so little time? Why does he love art so much? Why did he want to play a game with something so valuable?

 

Why couldn’t he keep his hands off of me?

 

I’d seen plenty of the women he brushed shoulders with while I’d been mingling among the guests. I’d seen the photos of the women he’d attended functions with. And I wasn’t blind regarding my own looks.

 

Brown hair. Blue eyes. More than generous hips. Sure, I was pretty enough. But I wasn’t a model by a long shot, or elegant, or refined--

 

Stop.

 

This line of thinking isn’t going to help me. And it proves my point. Which is that curiosity isn’t what I need. I need focus, I need to keep my eyes open. To remain impartial.

 

Locke makes that impossible.

 

As I flip back to my initial list, there’s a knock at the door. My heart flutters and I hate that I’m excited to see Locke again so soon.

 

Unlocking and opening it, my smile falters. There is a massive, hulking man in the hall. Taller than Locke, and that’s saying something, with the shoulders of a football player and the haircut of someone who’s been in the service. His eyes, at least, are gentle and apologetic, offsetting the rest of his appearance.

 

“Um, may I help you?”

 

“Mr. Locke wanted me to make sure you’re okay.”

 

I flush with heat. I’d half expected him to forget about me after discovering the Kane ruby was missing, so this is a pleasant surprise. “Yes, I’m fine, thanks, Mr.--”

 

“I’m Ben, Mr. Locke’s assistant. Do you need anything? Food? Shall I get you a driver?”

 

I chew my lip. “What’s going on out there now?”

 

“Mrs. Locke’s diamonds are being bid on.”

 

This piques my interest. “What I’d really love, Ben, is to see the rest of the auction.”

 

His eyes take in my casual dress and while I’m sure he doesn’t mean to wrinkle his nose, he does. “Don’t worry, Ben. I don’t mean take me right to the auction. I want to watch from the video control room.”

 

He frowns, but he doesn’t say no. I like this guy. He turns and I follow on his heels.

 

“How long have you known Jameson?” My breath is coming quicker because I’m having to work to keep up with his long strides.

 

“We grew up together.” Ben’s like a dental patient. He doesn’t seem to be hiding any truths, but he’s going to make me pull teeth to get answers.

 

“So you knew him before he was rich?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Has he always been so competitive?” This earns a smile. He doesn’t need to say yes-- we both know it. “Okay, then, why did he want someone to try and steal from him?”

 

Ben frowns. “Because he likes to be the best.”

 

Sounded about right. “At the risk of other people’s equity? After all, he didn’t own the ruby, yet he clearly--”

 

“That’s a question for him.”

 

Fine. Changing tactics. “You’re big for a personal assistant. What do you do for him?”

 

“Everything.”

 

I roll my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Ben was having fun at my expense.

 

“One more question.”

 

“There’s never just one more.”

 

“Okay, one more for now,” I add. He’s right, of course. In my line of work, questions beget questions. There was never a final one. He nods. “Who knows Locke well enough to leave me tied up like a gift for him?”

 

Ben’s hulking form doesn’t change, but his steps become erratic. “I can’t think of anyone.”

 

That was a lie. Interesting.

 

We come to the control room and he lets me in. I sit in one of the chairs and begin looking at screens. “How far back do you keep the tapes?”

 

“We keep monthly logs.”

 

“But you don’t tape over-- you just replace?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Are you going to stand here and watch me?”

 

“As long as you’re in here, yes.”

 

I huffed. But that was fair. After all, if Jameson had wanted to give me permission to watch the camera’s, he would have. On the screens, I see eager hands jutting into the air, placing bids. The Auctioneer is standing next to Jameson, who’s holding out something in his hand.

 

My gasp comes before I can stop it. It’s a necklace. And
enormous
necklace, with thick, teardrop diamonds that grace every other inch of it. Each teardrop had to be ten carats. They were black diamonds, sparkling and yet soaking in the light, transfixing my gaze.

 

Now, I’ve never been a big jewels girl. But that necklace is stunning. Classic, and a little dangerous looking, it would require a woman with true sophistication to pull it off.

 

Apparently it is a high-demand item, too, because hands are still raising their numbered cards.

 

Tearing my eyes away from the diamond necklace, I find another screen with a different camera angle. This one shows the faces of the bidders. I scan the room to see if anyone looks bitter, or nervous.

 

There is one face.

 

The man looks to be about forty-something years old, but in a rugged, handsome way. He’s Locke’s opposite-- his tanned skin and blonder hair contrast with Locke’s dark. While Jameson is showing the necklace, his mouth in a grim line, this man is scowling. His gaze never leaves Locke.

 

“Ben? Who’s that?”

 

He looks where I’m pointing and I catch his eyes narrow. “That’s Bryce Hollins.”

“The one who owns the other safe?”

 

“Yes. And an uninvited guest.”

 

“You let him keep his safe here, but he’s not invited?”

 

Ben shrugs. “I wouldn’t have turned him away, but no-- his business isn’t in acquisitions and his men are already here, so I don’t know why he’d bother to show up.”

 

“Why is he looking at Locke like that?”

 

“They’ve got a long history together.”

 

Like I said--pulling teeth. A long history shouldn’t result in that level of animosity. We watch in silence. Finally, someone wins the necklace. There isn’t audio playing in the room, though I’m sure that it is available somewhere. I’m curious about how much the necklace goes for. I’m also curious about Locke’s ability to give away something that belonged to her.

 

“Tell me about Locke’s parents,” I ask Ben.

 

“No.”

 

Okay, fair enough. I get angry when certain people are blunt or rude when I’m questioning them. That’s because they’re doing it to
be
rude. A power play. They don’t want to give me information to make a point, and it pisses me off. Ben, though? He’s just doing his job. He tells me what he needs to and nothing more.

 

So I don’t get mad at his refusal. Also, he seems like he’s pretty up front about things. I like that. It’s different from Locke, who has shut doors and hallways and labyrinths of truth inside of him. Locke takes work and you always know he’s never showing you the whole of it.

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