The Ransom (33 page)

“And you haven’t heard from her?” David persisted.

“No, I haven’t. The last time I spoke to her was yesterday evening. I understood she was headed home. I take it you haven’t heard from her, either?”

There was a pause that David didn’t fill. Lane’s cop instincts went on high alert. There was something the AG wasn’t telling him. After another silence, the man spoke again.

“When she didn’t come home last night, I just assumed she was with you. After all, she did leave the note. She’s a big girl and…and I was pleased she was spending time with you. You did a good job finding the little Munro girl and… Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be unhappy to discover the two of you might have more in common than a missing child.”

Lane ducked his head. Heat crept up his neck and he was glad the Attorney General couldn’t see the effect his words were having. Lane’s feelings for Zara were still so new and he hadn’t had the time to sort them out, let along talk to her about them.

As if sensing his embarrassment, David cleared his throat. “Anyway, suffice it to say I wasn’t concerned about her no-show last night.”

“Something changed your mind.” It wasn’t a question.

The forthcoming answer was grim. “Yes.”

Panic nipped at the edges of Lane’s consciousness. He tried to keep the tension from his voice. “What is it, David? Tell me. What’s happened?”

“Draco Jovanovic called.”

Lane frowned. “The president of the Redbacks?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He… He says he has Zara.”

The words were said in a rush and for a minute, Lane thought he’d misheard.

“Excuse me?”

“He told me he has
Zara
,” the Attorney General shouted, his own fear now evident. “I didn’t want to believe him. I thought he was joking, playing a trick on me, pressuring me into paying back his money. I called you. I thought you might know where she is. After all, you’re the last person who saw her.”

Anger took hold of Lane’s body. Dread settled like lead in his gut. He knew before he spoke the words that he didn’t want it answered, but he asked the question anyway.

“Are you saying you think Draco Jovanovic has now kidnapped Zara as ransom for Allison’s debt? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Lane’s voice rose with every phrase until he was shouting at the other end of the phone. His heart pumped faster. His breath came hard. He held his phone like a lifeline until his knuckles turned white.

“Yes. It’s just like Allison said. He was involved in this from the outset. He took the Munro child by mistake and the plan went sideways. The money wasn’t paid. Now he’s taken Zara.”

Shock and fury battled for supremacy in Lane’s veins. He spun on his heel, the phone jammed tightly against his ear, his free hand fisted. He wanted to hit something. Hard. His gaze skimmed over the walls, the cupboards, the refrigerator and back again.

Dragging in air through his dry lips, he did his best to get his anger under control. Losing his temper would achieve nothing. He had to find out everything the AG knew. It could mean the difference between finding Zara, or not.

Filling his lungs to capacity, he purposefully held it for a full five seconds before exhaling in a rush. In a voice that brooked no argument, he demanded, “Tell me everything.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Wednesday, January 31, 12:27 p.m.

Draco strode into the room carrying a paper bag that sported the McDonalds restaurant logo. He threw the bag in Zara’s direction. It landed awkwardly in her lap. With her hands once again bound behind her, it seemed ludicrous that he expected her to eat.

The smell of the burger wafted tantalizingly close to her nose. Zara’s belly growled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous morning and even that was comprised of only a bite of a piece of toast as she’d waited anxiously for news of Olivia’s rescue.

As if only just becoming aware of her predicament, Draco sauntered back toward her and pulled a pocket knife from his jeans.

“Turn around.”

She did as he ordered and offered him her back. He made short work of the bindings that held her hands fast and then stepped away. Zara breathed a silent sigh of relief and rubbed at her hands to encourage the circulation. They didn’t hurt as much as the first time, but the pain was still far from pleasant.

“I’ve spoken to your father. He has until midnight to pay me the money.”

Zara looked up and stared at Draco. He sat in his office chair with his elbows resting on the desk. From where she now sat, he looked less intimidating, in fact, his tone was almost conversational. Her stomach growled again, this time louder. She flushed with embarrassment.

“Eat. I don’t want your father accusing me of mistreating you.”

Zara bit back a retort. As if kidnapping and holding her captive for more than sixteen hours didn’t constitute mistreatment. Still, his words gave her hope that perhaps he had no intention of harming her, provided the ransom money was paid.

She took a bite of the Big Mac and forced a morsel past her dry lips. She swallowed without chewing. She supposed she ought to be thankful to Draco for bothering to offer her food, but somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to feel any gratitude.

Her father would be going out of his mind. First, Brittany and Olivia and now her. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Well, she could. She’d just been through it herself.

She felt the weight of Draco’s gaze on her and looked up. He stared at her from across the room, his expression hooded. A few moments later, he pushed back his chair and came toward her.

She froze. Her heart skipped a beat and then pounded against her chest. Turning her head away, she forced another bite of food into her mouth and did her best to look nonchalant.

He kept coming. She stoically ignored him and held her gaze steadfastly focused on the floor. Jean-clad legs stopped in front of her, his crotch in line with her face. His hand moved to caress the bulge now evident through his jeans.

Fear tightened her throat and she couldn’t even swallow the tiny piece of meat that was still in her mouth. She shrank back against the couch in an effort to put more distance between them. Her efforts earned her a mirthless chuckle.

“What, not interested? Your stepmother would have been begging for it by now. It was always best when she was high,” he added. “She’d take it from anyone and everyone and come begging to me for more.” He rubbed his erection again. “It still gets me hard thinking about her full of cock.”

Zara’s mouth gaped open. Shock trembled through her limbs and nausea gripped her belly. Draco reached out and ran a surprisingly soft finger down her cheek. She winced and turned her face away, hating the tears of helplessness and despair that sprang immediately to her eyes. With his finger and thumb on her chin, he turned her head back toward him. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Tears? Really? If you’re anything like your stepmother, you’re going to enjoy the next part. I’ve been looking forward to it all morning.”

Zara stared him down. “Don’t touch me. I’ll scream,” she threatened, her words sounding much bolder than she felt.

Draco chuckled again. “Scream all you like. I kind of like the whole idea of taking you spitting and fighting. Besides, there’s not a single bloke outside this room who will come in and interfere, scream or no scream.”

His hand slid from her chin to her chest and paused to fondle her breast. Her breath halted and then came fast. She bit down on her lip to stifle the groan of fear.

She could tell from the look in his eyes that her fear excited him. With all the courage she could muster, she held his gaze with her shoulders drawn back and her head held high. She was rewarded with a flicker of admiration in the blood-shot depths of his eyes.

“You’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that.” He shook his head, another smile hovering around his lips. “Let’s see how feisty you are when I have my cock buried deep inside you. I bet that’ll take some of the fight out of you. And that’s before I invite a few of the boys to have a go.”

Zara quivered from shock and fear. Her chest rose and fell in panic. She looked around her, frantically willing an avenue of escape to materialize. At least her hands were still unbound.

As if reading her mind, Draco shook his head. “The door’s locked, babe, and you’ll never reach the window. Let’s face it, you’re stuck here with me for as long as I want it.” He squeezed her nipple painfully through the thin fabric of her dress. “And boy, do I want it.”

“When’s my father due to arrive?” she blurted, unable to believe she’d formed the coherent thought, let alone uttered the words. But they seemed to have the desired effect. Draco’s hand fell away and he took a few steps backward.

“Like I told you, I’ve given him until midnight. It’s up to him how soon he gets here. If he knows what’s good for him, it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

The smirk on his face and his slow once-over made Zara’s skin crawl, but at least he’d stopped touching her. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he made good on his threat.

She scurried as far away from him as she could, perching on the edge of the couch. The discarded bag of food toppled to the floor.

“I promise to tell my father you’ve treated me well,” she said, eyeing him bravely. “He’ll be more likely to take it easy on you if he knows I’ve come to no harm.”

Draco grinned. “Is that right? You’re a regular little Pollyanna, aren’t you? And here I was hoping you and I could have a little fun.”

“I’m not my stepmother. I don’t know what kind of “fun” you had with her, but I’m telling you now, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Full of orders, aren’t we? You’re pretty confident for a little bitch that’s locked in a room and at my mercy. I’m sure I’ve got better uses for that smart mouth of yours.”

He strode back toward her with purpose. Zara shrank against the couch. Terror pounded through her veins.

Draco came to a halt in front of her. He unsnapped the catch on his jeans and slid down the zipper. Moments later, his erection sprang free.

Zara cried out in panic and fear. Reaching out for her, he seized a handful of her hair and dragged her head toward his erection. She batted at his hands. His grin widened, displaying his ill-kept teeth.

“This will stop that smart mouth of yours. You won’t have any breath for talking.” He produced a gun from the back of his jeans and held it to her head. “Now, shut up and suck.”

Zara stared at Draco and began to tremble violently. The gun in his hand didn’t waver. He looked at her with such malevolence, she had no doubt he’d kill her if she didn’t comply. Panic surged through her chest and suffocated her. She gasped for breath, but it wasn’t enough. She began to hyperventilate.

Draco’s phone rang, momentarily distracting him. The sound of it was loud in the silence. He cursed and moved away from her and she collapsed against the couch, grateful beyond words for the interruption.

Draco growled into the phone and then listened to whoever was on the other end. His face darkened and he swore with vicious intent. Zara curled up in a ball and waited to see how long the reprieve would last. She didn’t know what she’d do if he ended the call and returned to take up where he’d left off.

* * *

David turned the door knob of his wife’s bedroom with a hand that shook. Anger, disbelief, and a tiny sliver of hope that Draco was lying, warred inside him.

Allison sat at her dressing table, an array of hand lotions, eye creams, nail polish, perfume and other girly paraphernalia spread out before her. She stared at him in the mirror, her expression one of surprise. He could understand her reaction: He rarely ventured into her rooms during the daylight hours.

She’d been gone most of the day. He’d expected her home for lunch, at least, but she hadn’t shown. It had been nearly three when he heard her come in. He’d spent the next twenty minutes summoning up the courage to confront her and wondering whether he was ready to hear the answers.

With hesitant steps, he drew nearer. As she caught sight of his expression, her eyes widened and a tiny frown marred the smooth skin of her forehead.

“David, what is it? You look like you’ve just heard your best friend’s been killed in a car accident.”

He closed his eyes briefly at the callously casual way she offered the comment.
When had she gotten so hard?
She never used to be like that. At least, he didn’t think so. He’d been so busy building his political career, a decade had passed and he’d barely noticed.

She looked slim and glossy in a close-fitting black dress that dipped low to display her breasts. Her hair, a thick, shiny swathe of blond, was coiled enticingly around her ears. He drew in a breath and his head filled with her perfume, the same exotic blend of vanilla and frangipani she’d worn for as long as he’d known her.

Little had changed, except, perhaps her eyes. And even then, to see the difference, he had to look closely.

The brilliant blue orbs had lost some of their sparkle and there was an expression of perpetual discontentment in their depths, as if she was still searching for the well of unbridled fulfilment and had almost given up hope.

Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
Had he really been so self-absorbed? He’d made sure the bills were paid on time, he’d been home for dinner most nights and the nights when he was required elsewhere to lend his political support, she was almost always by his side.