Unbreakable Hearts (20 page)

“Okay, baby. Make it fast,” he
said, bending to brush her lips with his before he took her hand and walked to the front door.

They’d planned to go
downtown and take in all the sights, look at the Christmas window displays, maybe ice skate at Rockefeller Center, as soon as she was finished sending a few more emails of her pictures and filling out her claim forms.

At the door, he turned to her again.
“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said with a chuckle. “I just got you back into my life. Hate to say goodbye now.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

Dang.
Tilly so loved this. She had definitely fallen for this man. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she chuckled with him. “I know, honey. I’m so glad you’re here.” She looked up at him, tiptoeing up to kiss him. “But I promise, I just need to do a couple more things then I’ll be right over.”

He kissed her forehead then her nose. “Okay. Set the alarm. See you soon.” And he was gone.

Tilly’s office phone rang just then, and she ran to her studio to answer it after engaging the alarm.

“Hello?” she answered, out of breath from running.

“Damn. What’d you do, just run a marathon?” Quinn asked.

“Just about.
Why’re you calling my studio phone?”

“Because I’ve called your cell a hundred times and you didn’t answer. What’s going on?”

“Crap! Um, let me see. Where did I leave it?”  She left her office, going into the living room and looking for her phone.

“Wait
a minute,” Quinn said. “I hear sex in your voice.”

Tilly stopped in her tracks, shocked. “Y-you can?”

Quinn laughed. “I knew it. You fucked him, didn’t you?”

Tilly felt her face get hot
at her friend’s bluntness. “Jeez, Quinn. You’re so crude. But, yeah, we had sex. I’m sure you were no angel last night either.”

Quinn kept laughing. “Oh, babe, I’m never an angel. And I know you don’t want to hear the gory details about Rod, so I’ll spare
you. But, please, do tell. I wanna hear about Mr. Hotter than Hell.”

“Aha!”
Tilly cried when she found her phone in the couch cushions.

“Found it?”

“Yep. In the couch. I had it on silent that’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Okay.
Deets, girl, deets. So, is he hung like a horse? I’ll bet he is since he’s so tall. And he has huge hands!”

Tilly cracked up. “He held my hand
at dinner last night and I choked thinking it was so something you’d say.”

“I didn’t get a chance to
say it before you left! So how’d it go? Tell me!”

Tilly told her about how she’d been broken into again and they’d left dinner early.

“Are you kidding me right now? Fucking Doug!” Quinn huffed out.

“I’m still not sure it’s him, but my laptop was taken this time. I mean, it’s so specific, the things they’re taking, my cameras and now my laptop. I
could totally see him doing it.”

“We’ll talk about dillweed later. Now, tell me the good stuff!”

Tilly blushed again but told her best friend about going to John’s and what’d happened having to hold the phone away from her head when Quinn almost broke the sound barrier with her screams. When Quinn demanded to hear more, Tilly relayed what’d happened after she’d run out that morning but how things were good now and she was going to his place later.

“Oh, my God, Till! This is it! He’s your destiny! I just know it!
You’re gonna be together forever!”

Tilly felt
her heart squeeze. She hoped Quinn was right.

“
I’d like it if that happened,” she replied.

“That’s awesome, babe.
So happy for you!”

“Thanks, Qui—what the hell?
Hang on. I just heard something crash in the kitchen.”

Tilly went toward the kitchen, sticking her head around the door to see what was going on.
“Oh, God, Quinn, someone’s breaking in!” She took off running to the stairs when she heard the kitchen door bang open.

“Tilly!” Quinn screamed. “Oh, fuck, oh, God, Tilly!”

She was almost to the top of the stairs when she was tackled by a man wearing a ski mask.

“Gotcha, you little bitch,” he hissed in her ear as he clamped a
gloved hand over her mouth. He cursed when she bit it making him release her. She got up and ran toward her bedroom before he knocked her down again, landing on top of her. “Like it rough, do you? I can handle that,” he said turning her over.

“
Wh-who are you?” Tilly asked, crying, looking up at the man who’s fierce, gray eyes bore into hers from behind his mask.

“Your worst fucking nightmare,” the man said before he punched her, knocking her
out cold.

Chapter 18

After leaving Tilly’s,
Oz dropped by CEP before going to his loft. Even though it was Sunday evening, there was usually at least one guy hanging around, and he felt like shooting the shit with someone for a while instead of going back to his place waiting for Tilly to get there. Besides, he had some paperwork to fill out on the skip from that morning.

He couldn’t remember when he’d been this happy. How fucking lucky
was he that fate had brought Tilly back into his life.

“Hey, man, you look like the cat that ate the canary. What
gives?” Brock asked coming out of an office.

“Y
eah, I think you left some feathers on your chin,” Gunner said with a smirk as he came out of Hank’s office.

“Fuck off, Gun,” Oz replied not able to hold a laugh back. He looked at Brock, who’d been the one to get him this job in the first place. “Life’s good, man. All I have to say.”

“He got laid.” Gunner snorted.

“And good,” Brock added, looking him up and down.

“Jesus Christ, what are you two, the sex police?” Oz retorted.

“Nah, that’s Quaid,” Brock said. “He’s the one who gets off role playing.”

That made them all laugh
. Oz went to the kitchenette that was on the back wall in the reception area and poured himself some coffee then turned and leaned against the counter as he took a drink.

“It’
s drunk kiss chick from high school, isn’t it?” Gunner asked looking at him with those damned blue eyes that took in everything. Oz had told them all about Tilly in a drunken rant one night when they’d been out and they’d never let him forget it.

“Yep,” Brock
answered. The day before when he’d had to come back for parts, Oz had told him he was putting in a security system for her.

“Jesus,” Oz muttered.

“You get your guy to the cops today?” Gunner asked, sitting on the leather sofa that was positioned in the center of the room. The sofa, a couple matching chairs and a coffee table all made up a waiting area.

“Yeah, after a couple hours.”
Oz walked over and sat in a chair. “Made two wrong ID’s before finding the right guy.”

“That’s embarrassing,” Brock said.

“No shit. Had to apologize to one several times for trying to cuff him then almost ran a fucking marathon chasing the other one down. I mean, why the hell do people run if they’re not guilty? Not going out without all the info next time.”

“Dad had a pretty good laugh after you called in,” Gunner told him.

“I’ll bet. Told him if I was gonna get screwed over by him, he could at least give me a reach-around,” Oz replied dryly.

G
unner and Brock cracked up as he laughed with them. And that was when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his jacket pocket, he frowned when he saw that it was the security company.

“Hello?” he answered as he stood up.

“Mr. Osby, this is HSI calling. It seems that your alarm has been activated at your residence,” the tech informed him.

“Fuck!” Oz hiss
ed, hanging up and immediately dialing Tilly’s number. When she didn’t answer, he ran to the door, Gunner and Brock on his heels. When they got outside, Oz stopped, realizing he didn’t have his truck. “Fuck!” he yelled again.

“What is it?” Gunner asked.

“Tilly. Her alarm went off. She’s not answering her phone and she’s there alone.”

“C’mon,” Gunner said, running to his t
ruck that was parked in the lot. Brock got in the back of the extended cab and Oz in front then Gunner peeled out of the parking lot, turning into the street before Oz had a chance to give him directions.

“Brooklyn,” Oz said then gave him
the address. “If anything’s happened to her…” He clenched his jaw and sucked a breath in through his nose.

“It’ll be okay,” Gunner said, looking over at him. He drove as fast as he could before hitting traffic.

Oz’s phone rang again. “Jeff? What’s going on?”

“Is Tilly with you?” he asked.

“No. I just left there an hour ago.”

“I can’t get an answer from her.” Jeff replied.

“
I couldn’t either. Goddamn it!” Oz hissed.

Oh, God.
If they didn’t hear from her soon, he knew he’d lose it.

“Got another cal
l coming in. You headed to her house?” Jeff asked.

“Be there in ten,” Oz said and hung up. He sat quietly
staring straight ahead, the anger building inside, making him clench his jaw.

It was Tilly.
His
Tilly. God, she’d only been back in his life for a couple days, but he knew in reality, he’d never let her go, had held tight to her for the past ten years, hoping, wishing.

And now she wasn’t answering her phone
. Where the fuck was she?

When
they finally made it to her street, he saw the police cars with lights flashing and jumped out of the truck before it even stopped, running to the steps and up and inside the front door.

“Hey! You can’t be in here!” an officer yelled at him.

“It’s okay,” Jeff said, coming over and taking Oz outside onto the porch. Jeff was in street clothes so he hadn’t been on duty and Oz saw that he looked like his best friend had died.

Fuck.

“What’ve you found out?” Oz asked.

“
Was gonna call you back but knew you’d be here soon. That was Quinn who called when we were talking. She said she was on the phone with Tilly when the guy broke in. Said she heard Tilly screaming and crying then heard the guy call her a bitch. Next, she thinks he hit her, knocking her out because she heard nothing after that. They found the house phone at the top of the stairs. She must’ve tried getting to her room to lock herself in,” Jeff said, choking up.

“Fuck,” Oz mumbled, running a hand over his head
a couple times. “What now?” he asked.

Oh, God.
Someone had her. Somebody had broken in and taken her.

Fuck!

Gunner and Brock came up just then and Oz made quick introductions.

“I don’t know, man,” Jeff said. “It’s my fucking sister. Christ!” He put his hands on his head, pulling at his hair. “This is gonna kill Mom.” He turned and walked to the side of the porch, standing there looking at nothing and breathing hard. Oz
understood completely, the feeling of helplessness about to swallow him whole.

“Jeff!” Quinn yelled after getting out of a cab
making them all turn to see her as she ran to the porch and up the stairs, going to Jeff where she grabbed him in a hug as she cried. “I couldn’t do anything!” she sobbed. “She said someone was breaking in and all I could do was stand there. I couldn’t do anything…”

Oz couldn’t take this. He walked down the steps and stood in the front yard, hands on his hips
as he looked down at the snow, trying to keep himself in check.

“We’ll find her,” he heard Gunner say quietly. Oz hadn’t even h
eard him approach.

“How?” he
looked up and asked.

“Someone’s got to know something. We’ll find her.”

Oz nodded as he clenched his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger, closing his eyes. He dropped his hand and looked at Gunner and said, “Swear to God, Gun, anyone hurts her, they’re dead.”

Gunner looked him in the eye and nodded back.

***

Till
y awoke and slowly blinked open her eyes, frowning because her head was pounding. She felt tape over her mouth and it took her a few seconds before it all came back to her. She sucked in air through her nose when she remembered that someone had broken into her house and chased her up the stairs. But that was all she remembered. She now lay on a bed in a bedroom, looking up at the ceiling fan that spun lazily overhead. She turned her head and gazed around the room but didn’t recognize the place. There was nothing on the walls or any personal effects on the dresser except for a small lamp whose light was soft but still hurt her head when she looked at it. When she tried sitting up she realized she was tied down. Her arms were outstretched as were her legs, all bound with straps to the bed. What in the world?

“Ah, you’re awake,” a man said as he walked in
to the room.

She glanced at him knowing she’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t place him. He was very good looking
, tall, dark and handsome.
So cliché,
she thought. But there was something off about him. She watched as he came toward her and sat on the bed, reaching a hand toward her. She automatically pulled as far away as she could from him which made him chuckle.

“You do that now, but soon you’ll be begging me to touch you.”
He laughed again.

It was then she figured out what was off about him. It was
his eyes. When he’d laughed, his smile hadn’t reached them. They just looked back at her, cold and gray. She shuddered as he reached his hand toward her again and caressed her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple, which made her turn her head away as she held back a whimper.

“Careful. Don’t wanna piss me off. I can bl
ack your other eye if necessary,” he said, leisurely moving his hand down between her breasts, over her stomach and between her legs where he cupped her, moving his fingers over her jeans. He then slowly dragged his hand back up, pulling her sweater up with it and sliding his hand under her bra, groped her breast again.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and focused on trying to keep the bile that was rising
up her throat at bay. God. That explained why her head was pounding. He’d hit her and knocked her out. Dang. As he continued touching her, she couldn’t help the tears that flooded her eyes then trickled down the sides of her face.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself. When I come back, I expect you to be willing to do what I say. If not, you won’t like the consequences.
But I will.”

***

Graham liked this. He liked it a lot. He’d seen the Maxwell woman the day of the parade but hadn’t realized how beautiful she really was until he was up close and personal with her now. She was a fucking knockout. Literally. He laughed at his pun as he left her room. He also chuckled at how she’d tried moving away from him. She’d learn to like his touch, want it, plead for it, of that he had no doubt.

Going into the kitchen, he pulled a bottle of Lagavulin off
the shelf in the liquor cabinet.
Fucking Zim always had good taste in scotch,
he thought as he poured himself a glass. He sat in the leather wingback chair and watched the fire blazing in the fireplace. He’d never been to Zim’s getaway house but had heard it was a pretty sweet setup, and that it was. Hancock and Moore sofa and chairs, Henkel Harris coffee and end tables, a Jackson Pollock on the wall above the fireplace. Graham wondered how he’d kept the two Russian girls there for two years, but then figured Zim probably shared them with the Russian mob they all had dalliances with. Maybe they’d be up for helping him keep the Maxwell woman there. But he didn’t feel like sharing her with anyone just yet. Maybe after he’d had her for a month or two he’d grow tired of her then they could have her. He felt his dick twitch at the thought of taking her now.

He rose to return to her room when his cell phone rang. He looked to
see it was Brynne calling. Fucking great.

“Yeah, babe,” he answered
, looking up at the ceiling.

“Are you coming home soon? Daddy
wants to deliver the Lamborghini he got us. Wasn’t that an awesome surprise at Thanksgiving?” she squealed.

“Definitely.
What time’s he going to be there?”

“A
round ten. He said his friend from the dealership just got back in town, so he’s going to pick it up and drive it over.”

And put miles on it when he did
. Graham rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s eight-thirty. I’ll be home in an hour.”

“Okay! Be safe. Love you!”
she said and rang off.

Fuck. Now all he’d have time for was to make the Maxwell
woman send emails to the media to which she’d sent her pictures, requesting they not use them. He’d already checked the local papers and magazines and saw they hadn’t used any pictures with him in them, so maybe he could head the rest off at the pass and the situation wouldn’t be as dire as he’d originally thought.

He set his glass on the
end table and picked up his laptop from the coffee table then went to the bedroom. Upon going inside, his dick twitched again at the sight of her being bound to the bed. Nothing sexier than a woman tied up. Jesus.

“You ready to cooperate?” he asked
placing the laptop on the dresser.

She
turned toward him and nodded.

“
Good.” He walked to the bed and reached a hand out to her face, liking that she winced when he did. “I’m going to remove this tape, but if you so much as utter a sound without my permission, I’ll knock you out again. Understand?”