Beneath These Shadows Page 68


He turned to the bar and removed a bottle of Fiji water, just like what he always stocked for me in the SUV. Handing it to me, he said, “Drink. Don’t want you to get dehydrated on our flight.”

I uncapped the water and took a sip. Does it taste funny? Or am I paranoid?

I waited for Angelo to turn back to the bar to get himself a drink, and I slipped the latch from my buckle and bolted for the door.

I made it three steps before he tackled me.

“Eden, Eden, Eden. You know better than that.” Angelo’s words took on a chiding tone. “You’re gonna have to take a nice long nap on the way home if you can’t behave like a good girl.”

He leaned up, but didn’t move off me.

My cheek pressed into the carpet, I waited for another chance to move when I felt a sting on my neck and my vision blurred. Angelo stood and I rolled over onto my back, blinking up at him and trying to focus.

“What—”

“Sleep. It’ll all make sense soon.”

Everything went black just after I realized I’d been drugged.

“WE GOT A FLIGHT PLAN. Jet left at 2030 hours, headed for Teterboro airfield in New Jersey. Manifest lists two passengers, Angelo Francetti and Eden Mathews.” Rix delivered the information via Con’s phone on speaker.

“At least now I know where the fuck I’m going.” It had been the longest four hours of my life waiting for confirmation.

“You can’t take on the mob by yourself, man,” Rix said, and Con nodded in agreement.

“No way in hell,” Delilah chimed in.

“I’m not taking opinions right now.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad because we’ve all got them.” Con looked at me from across the table where we’d spread out the pictures and shit from the hotel room. “Titan has a jet, and I’m guessing he’ll let us take it, but he’s going to want to go with. He’s like that. Lord’ll want in. Simon will fucking fly the thing if we can’t get Titan’s regular pilot. You’ve got a crew whether you want one or not.”

“I’m going.” This came from Rix. “If Hennessy is sober, we might be able to get him on board.”

“I’ll call Titan. Plan to meet at the airstrip in sixty minutes unless you hear otherwise.”

Con hung up the phone and looked at me. “There’s no way in hell we’re sending you into this without backup. Besides, if Dom Casso tries to kill you, we’ll just use Titan as a human shield. No one would dare shoot that cocky son of a bitch because he’s got more money than God. Definitely more money than the mob.”

“What about me?” Delilah stood, her arms crossed.

“No fucking way. I’m not taking a chance that I could lose you too. You’re staying. Hold down the fort.”

“You know I don’t like it.”

I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into my chest. “But you’ll deal because you’re the best fucking sister a guy could ask for.”

“You’re such a dick sometimes.”

“Most of the time.”

“If you two are done with sibling-bonding time, I’m calling the cavalry and we’re going in armed to the teeth.”

It might not have been the plan I intended, but that was the plan we were going with.

An hour later, Titan led the way up the stairs to his jet, and I followed behind with Con, Lord, and Rix. Simon was already in the cockpit finishing the preflight check. Hennessy was MIA, which wasn’t anything new since he’d turned in his badge and left the NOPD.

Lord, Con, and Rix dropped their duffel bags on the floor of the cabin and Titan laughed. “You’d think we were going to stage a coup. Anyone feel like becoming the new leader of Cuba?”

“Only you, Titan. Only you.”

Con looked to me. “You want to give your girl one more call before we take off? Try her cell?”

I’d been trying it every five minutes for the last hour and hadn’t gotten an answer. I tried it one more time.

Straight to voice mail.

“Let’s go.”

Titan studied us. “Then buckle your fucking seat belts, boys, because this flight is taking off.”

WHEN I WOKE, MY HEAD throbbed and my mouth felt like I’d swallowed a bag of cotton balls. I wasn’t in the jet anymore; instead, I was in a small room I didn’t recognize. I rolled over and swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, holding the edge of the mattress until the urge to puke passed.

Where am I?

The furniture was dark wood and the linens were gray and navy, masculine colors. The shades were drawn, and the only light in the room came from a small lamp on the bureau. The glow cast a circle of light on framed pictures, and I moved toward them, hoping they’d give me a clue about where I was.

But all they did was confuse me more.

They were all pictures of me. In one, I recognized a dress I hadn’t worn since dinner after my college graduation. I remembered because Dom had taken me out to celebrate, one of the rare times we’d had a father-daughter moment in the last decade. Another picture was from only a few days before I left New York as I was leaving work. Finally, it was the last one that scared the ever-loving crap out of me. I was naked. In my bed. My vibrator in my hand and my eyes squeezed closed as I orgasmed.

I wanted to throw up, and it had nothing to do with my aching head.

Angelo.

How? And why? He’d always been more kind and personable than any of my other babysitters, but everything seemed to point to it being a front for something much scarier.

He kidnapped me. Hit me. Drugged me.

None of that seemed like the guy I thought I knew.

And now he has a picture of me at my most intimate moment? Shivers of revulsion tore through me. Any sense of security and privacy I had was destroyed.

But why?

I knocked the frame facedown on the bureau so I didn’t have to look at the picture. I wanted to take it out and tear it up, but I had to focus. I had to escape. It was up to me now.

I rushed to the door and yanked on the handle.

Locked.

I spun and headed for the window, but didn’t make it more than a few steps before the door swung open.

“I saw you were awake. You like our room? I thought you might. You don’t need all that girly shit like you have at home. That’s not who you really are.” A smug smile stretched across Angelo’s face.

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