RANSOM Read online

  “I would tell you to wash your hands, but I could care less if you catch something,” she says with her nose all scrunched up. “Why are you holding me here anyways? Is it so I can’t bring the cops back to your place?”

  I throw my hands out to my sides and turn from side to side. “What? Is this not suitable enough for you? Please, forgive me,” I lean forward and grab the sheet and hold it up, “my satin sheets are being washed by my maid.” Dropping the sheet I point to the TV. “My flat screen is out of date by a decade or so but still works so I don’t see any sense in buying a new one. I can assure you though, I did not skimp on the toilet paper. It’s both soft and durable.”

  With each thing that I point out to her, my anger gets worse. My voice fills with hate and rage. But when I see her backed in the corner frightened, of me, I spin away from her. I don’t want her to see me like this, at the absolute worst I have ever been in my life. This isn’t her fault. She is simply caught in the middle of all this.

  I walk over to the edge of the window and barely pull open the curtain enough to see outside. Not a soul in site and the street is dead, which is understandable being as we are in my hometown of Ellabell. The population is so low here that most tourist driving through, heading to Savannah, think it’s a ghost town. What few people are in Ellabell are like family to me.

  I am brought from my thoughts by a shaky voice. “You live here?” Sage asks.

  I glance over my shoulder at her still cowering in the corner and say, “Welcome to my shitty world.”

  I wait until after she lies down and her breathing evens out before I come to sit outside. I pull one of the plastic chairs the hotel has out here and sit it next to the door. My mom always told me that revenge never ends the way you expect it to, and now I am holding this girl for ransom to get back at her father. I drop my head into my hands and ask myself, “What the hell have you done?”

  My ‘act now, think about the repercussions later’ behavior has yet again gotten me in trouble. My whole life I have acted as soon as an idea pops into my head. I will never forget the time I conned Jennifer into going into the woods one day because I got the bright idea to own a skunk. Needless to say, the idea stunk. Literally. Jen has been there for me on her fair share of my ideas and supported them even if she knew the outcomes where going to be disastrous.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket to text Jen and let her know about my current predicament to see if her amazing problem solving skills can help me through it. When I open the screen on my cell and see the time, I stuff it back in my pocket. If Jennifer worked a normal job texting her this early wouldn’t be a problem, but she works at the one and only bar here. That means she didn’t get home until about an hour ago after ushering the local drunks out the door.

  Just as the cool spring air starts to relax me a bit, a noise comes from inside the room and I sit up on alert. After a few minutes of not hearing anything again, I run my both my hands down the side of my face and sit back and write it off as nerves. Just after I lean my head back and look up at the stars when a loud bang comes from the other side of the door.

  Sage

  Does he really expect me to just fall soundly asleep when I have been kidnapped? I don’t want to piss him off again, so I do as he says and lay down with my back to him. I force myself to calm down before I set on a panic attack, which I really do not need. Not long later, I hear him moving around the room and the door opening and closing. I stay completely still internally debating on turning over to see if he really left.

  I count to ten and take a deep breath. I take my time rolling over, careful not to make a noise. Now on my back, I lift my leg to turn the rest of the way when something rattles and hits the floor. My whole body freezes up. I’m not even sure I am capable of taking in air. Seconds tick by and he doesn’t come storming through the door. I look over the edge of the bed to find what made all that racket and almost want to do a face palm when I see the medicine bottle staring back at me.

  I sit up and ease my feet to the floor. I step over the bottle, and walk to the window, and peak out to see if I can find my kidnapper. I scan the parking lot and come up empty until movement next to the wall captures my attention. He looks aggravated as he runs his hands down his face and looks up at the sky.

  This is my chance to try and get out of here. I let go of the curtain and turn around to see if there is a back door to this room, or maybe even a window. I turn too quick though, causing one of the chairs at the table and me to play chicken. We both lose and fall to the floor. I don’t bother rushing to my feet, because I know there is no way in hell he didn’t hear that.

  The door is thrown open, and I am greeted by a towering silhouette. He flips on the light and looks over me tangled up in the chair. A smile appears at the corners of his mouth, and he asks, “Did the chair attack you, or did you go at it first?”

  I kick the chair off of me and stand up to say, “It was mutual.” I walk over to the bed and flop down against the headboard, folding my arms over my chest with a huff of embarrassment and anger.

  I raise my eyes when I hear a bubble of laughter coming from him. It’s almost like he is trying to keep it down but some escapes anyway.

  He catches me watching and clears his throat. “What were you doing really? Did you think I left you alone?”

  “It was worth a shot,” I tell him.

  “I’m not an idiot,” he says.

  “Could have fooled me. I mean you did kidnap one of the most powerful men in the south’s daughter,” I explain.

  He walks to the foot of the bed with purpose. “He deserves to feel what it is like to have something precious ripped from you.”

  “What did my father do to you that was so awful?” I question.

  “He flushed my life down the toilet.” He shakes his head and continues, “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you haven’t had to work for a thing in your life,” he states.

  I drop my arms to the bed and lean forward, “Who says I haven’t?”

  “Daddy’s wallet.”

  “Just because we have money doesn’t mean I am incapable of working,” I bite out.

  He takes two strides to stand directly in front of me his brown eyes looking almost black. “Really? Tell me something you have had to work for in your life.”

  Huh. I stand there and ponder it over in my head for several minutes. What have I worked for? Well, shit. “Maybe I haven’t worked to earn money or material things before, but I have worked for things you can’t buy. I have been in a great relationship with my fiancé Richard for almost two years.”

  He moves in that last inch separating us and towers over my five foot five frame by almost a foot. He bends his head closer to me and says, “Exactly.”

  I angle my head so that I can look him in the eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? It may not be physical work, but it is something. You probably don’t even have anyone in your life that cares enough to fight for you. So I’m sure you couldn’t understand that,” I throw his own words back at him. We stand there staring down each other for several tense minutes, neither willing to give in and say something first. When the tension almost gets to be too much I open my mouth, but not faster than him.

  “You don’t know the first thing about my life or the people in it so don’t pretend like you do.” He speaks with so much venom that I flinch with every word.

  I can tell I have hurt him somehow and almost go to apologize, when I remember that this son of a bitch has taken me away from my life so that he can get some freaking payback against my father. What I don’t get is why someone with a lifestyle like my nameless assailant would have any ties to a man like my father. I can’t stop myself before I ask, “What’s your name?”

  He seems caught off guard for a second but he recovers quickly. “Billy Bob,” he replies, and then turns and walks toward the bathroom door.

  “You’re full of shit if you think I am going to
believe your real name is Billy Bob,” I shout at his back.

  He doesn’t bother to reply, just walks into the bathroom and turns on the water to the tub. When he comes into view again, he is pulling his shirt over his head. It doesn’t surprise me to find him covered in tattoos. What does surprise me is the fact I can’t take my eyes off of them. I have never thought tattoos were attractive on anyone, but hot damn! He is all around lean and ripped. Thick arms and chest that lead down to a tiny waist, and follows the ever loving ‘V’ that disappears into his jeans that are low and unfastened on his hips.

  The top of his underwear peak out of the top where his button is undone and I suddenly find myself wondering what is hidden underneath the rest. I don’t even register that he is walking over to me while I roam his body with my greedy eyes until he pushes me to the bed and leans over me. I don’t even put up a fight when he grabs my arms and pulls them above my head. Nope, I just soak up that body being so close to mine. When I feel a pinch to both my wrist I finally wake up from my fantasy and look up to where he releases my hands.

  Freaking handcuffs. He freaking handcuffed me to the headboard of the bed. I jerk my head back to him to find a smirk on his face. “That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I’ll keep in mind that you are more compliant when I’m shirtless. Now, don’t you go anywhere,” he says with a wink.

  I start yanking at the handcuffs to try and break free. He just lets out a laugh and shuts the door. I keep tugging, hoping that the old metal headboard will give somewhere. I give up when my wrist start to hurt and turn red, then turn to internally kicking my ass.

  What the hell, Sage? You seriously were so busy gawking at the man that kidnapped you, that you didn’t notice him handcuffing you?

  You saw that body. I mean shit, I think my freaking panties caught on fire when he took his shirt off.

  Who cares if he is freaking Apollo himself? He is the bad guy here. The one that is holding you for ransom. Get a grip and keep a level head.

  After spending an hour in the bathroom, the door opens and he walks through in some cloth pajama bottoms. No shirt, again. But this time, there is some moisture left on his skin from the shower. He picks up a glass and pours some of that God awful whiskey into it. Then he takes a seat in the chair against the wall and uses the other as a prop for his feet.

  I catch myself before I get too deep into devouring him with my eyes and try to roll over. Try being the key word. The handcuffs I am in aren’t like ordinary ones, there is no chain in the middle, more like they are hinged together like a door. With my hands above my head and no give, it is hard to do anything other than lay on my back. I roll just enough to get my head propped on my arm, but after a minute it hurts my neck and I go back to looking at the ceiling.

  Eventually, sleep begins to take over but before I fall completely under, I feel one of my hands release. “I can’t leave you completely free while I sleep, but you looked uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you,” I say. Before he walks away, I ask him again what his name is.

  “Why? What does it matter?”

  “I think I deserve to know my kidnapper’s name,” I reply.

  “Lynkin. My name is Lynkin. Now get some sleep, Beauty.”

  Lynkin. Lynkin? I don’t know any Lynkins, but that rings a bell somehow. Before I can delve too deep into it, sleep overtakes me.

  Lynkin

  This woman has me going in all sorts of directions. She can piss me off to the point where I am ready to erupt, but with just one look all that anger can be turned into pure arousal so heavy that my dick is unyielding and ready for its own combustion. The way she was watching me when I took my shirt off, the heat I could see in her eyes, was enough to send any man off the deep end. I try taking a cold shower. When it does nothing to ease the throbbing, I lower myself to something I haven’t had to do since I was a damned teenager and jack off.

  Before I open the door and walk out of the bathroom, I tell myself that I need to stay emotionless towards Sage. Any hate, resentment to her father, or lust I feel for her needs to be pushed way down so I can keep a level head and follow through with my plans. I take a deep calming breath and walk into the room. I don’t even look over to Sage in the bed. I grab my glass, fill it up, and take my post. I am completely zoned out when exasperated huffs and grunts start coming from the other side of the room.

  When ignoring them gets to be too difficult, I finally look see what the issue is. She is tossing and turning all over the place, but not really because of the cuffs on her wrist. She just can’t get comfortable. I remind myself that I just resolved to stay neutral with her, that I shouldn’t care whether or not she is cushy. The more I watch her though, the more that resolve falls. I grab the key, then walk over to her and undo one of her hands. In her almost asleep state she looks up to me and asks, “What’s your name?”

  “Why? What does it matter?”

  “I think I deserve to know my kidnapper’s name,” she explains.

  She has me there and I cave. “Lynkin. My name is Lynkin. Now get some sleep, Beauty.”

  Within minutes, she is sound asleep. Hopefully, she will stay out long enough for me to get some help here. Jen should be awake in a couple of hours, and I will call her over here. For right now, I am going to close my eyes and take a power nap while I can. I put an alarm on my phone to vibrate in an hour, then lean my head back against the wall and sleep.

  Sage is still sleeping when I wake up and call Jennifer. She gives me up the road and back because I haven’t called her in over a month but lightens up a bit when I tell her the hell I have been dealing with. I let her know that I have gotten myself into a pickle, and she just laughs and tells me she is on her way.

  Ten minutes later there is a light knock on the door. As soon as the door opens, she jumps up and wraps her arms around my neck for hug. But, I get her fist in my chest when she lets go.

  “That’s for not calling me sooner, I could’ve been there for you,” she practically yells.

  I grab her shoulders and put a finger up to my lips, shushing her. Jen looks at me and mouths a silent, “Why?” I point over to the sleeping form in the bed and she nods as if she understands.

  “That’s my predicament,” I state, waiting for her to catch on.

  “What? Did you knock her up or something?” she jokes, but she looks back over to Sage and sees her handcuffed to the bed. “What the fuck did you do? Who the hell is she?”

  Again, I have to shush her. “Shhh. Would you calm down?”

  She shoves me aside, walks a step towards the bed, and looks Sage up and down before turning back to me. “You want me to calm down when you have some strange woman handcuffed to a bed, in a hotel room?”

  “She isn’t some strange woman…that is Sage Donovan,” I tell her.

  Her hand flies to her mouth with a gasp. “Holy freaking Jesus Christ! You kidnapped your boss’s daughter? Have you officially gone insane?”

  “No I’m not insane. I have a…”

  Jen cuts me off. “Plan? You never have a plan. You act by the seat of your pants.”

  “You’re right. Normally, I don’t have a plan and this may not have really started off with much of one either, but I do have one now,” I tell her. She folds her arms over her chest and waits for me to continue.

  When I don’t answer her fast enough she jumps in, “Well, let’s hear it. What’s the plan?”

  “His plan is to hold me for ransom. What in the hell he wants though, is beyond me.” Jennifer’s and my heads jerk to where Sage now sits up in the bed.

  “Dammit, you woke her up, Jen!” I cuss at her.

  “No the both of you woke me up with your arguing,” Sage says, and takes her free hand to push her long hair out of her face. “So what, now you’re bringing your hussy into this kidnapping?”

  I turn and grab Jen to hold her back before she has a chance to pounce on Sage. Jennifer has never taken any shit from anyone, and I have witnessed her lay a few girls out for
just looking at her wrong.

  “Who the fuck are calling a hussy?” Jennifer screams over my shoulder, while still trying to push me out of her way so that she can get to Sage.

  Sage just sits there looking at me expectantly. “Keep giving me that look and I’ll let her ass go.”

  She rolls her eyes then points to her wrist. “I have to use the bathroom.”

  I throw up a finger and say, “Hold that thought.” Then push Jen out the door. When I close it I tell her, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you involved in this, but you have always had my back and I needed someone.”

  I barely can hold back my smile when I see her shoulders slump in defeat. “You know I will always be here for you when you do something crazy. This pushes the envelope, but I got ya!”

  I pull her in and give her a hug. “Thank you, Jen. You will always be my girl.”

  She pulls back with a half grin. “Not always, but I will take what I can get.”

  “Ha. Well, stay out here while I let her go to the bathroom. I will let you back in once she is in there.” I reach for the door knob and pause to look back at her. “I have a feeling you two will kill each other if I don’t keep an eye on you.”

  I walk in laughing, which earns me a hateful look and a smart ass comment. “Laughing with your whore about how you are going to kill me off once you get what you want?”

  “You really do think the worst of me don’t you? Have I hurt you at all? No. I have no intention to, either,” I explain.

  “Whatever. Can you undo this damn thing so I can go to the bathroom?” Sage huffs.

  I reach in my pajama pockets and pull out the key. Once I unlock it and back up, she walks to the bathroom and slams the door. Not seconds later I hear, “Shit!” come from inside.

  “I could have told you there wasn’t a window in there, Beauty,” I laugh to her. Since both girls are on opposite sides of either door, I take this time to change into some regular clothes. I pull the clothes from a drawer and toss them on the foot of the bed.