Snatched Read online

  And heard her lungs dancing with death. Raw fear filled his body.

  Fuck!

  Hell, he didn’t want her dead. Or hurting.

  He’d never hurt a woman.

  He’d been careful not to hurt Stacey, despite her trying to take his balls out. It was an old move, expected and easy to avoid. After three years in special forces, there wasn’t much he didn’t know about kidnapping, fighting, and killing.

  He also knew how fear affected the body. He’d seen hardened men buckle in combat situations.

  This girl was fighting for air.

  Although it was only a thirty-minute drive out of New Orleans to his cabin on the Bayou, he wasn’t taking risks.

  He pulled off the road where he knew there was a pharmacy, yanked the key out of the ignition and raced around to the side of the car.

  He pulled the tape off Stacey’s mouth.

  She gasped and fought to suck in air.

  “What do you need?” he demanded.

  A rasping, indecipherable whisper left her lips.

  Fucking hell. This snatch was going bad. He grabbed his water bottle, slipped his arm under her shoulders, and put it to her lips. Her body was clammy, and she trembled like a wounded deer.

  It was one thing to grab and exterminate enemy pricks, but he’d never done a woman. As much as he loathed Animal for taking Lizzie, his concern for this fragile, New York princess was making him sweat.

  “Asthma puffer,” she whispered, at last.

  Thank God. “Understood.”

  He should have realized. Animal was always sucking on a puffer, too, when things got smoky in the Grill Bar, yet he’d never left Troy’s side. They’d grown even closer after Troy had offered to pick up Animal’s father’s prescriptions a few times when Animal was flat out running the business. Troy was always happy to help a pal. It had taken Animal six months to ask to join the Slayers. Troy had thought Animal’s extensive knowledge of bikes and bike parts would be useful for the club.

  But the prick had another agenda all the time.

  Troy’s sister, Lizzie.

  He did not like being used.

  He yanked the blanket back over Stacey—avoiding her face this time—slammed the car’s back door, then stripped off his vest with its recognizable colors and threw it in the back of the SUV.

  The small nest of shops was dark, but he didn’t take chances. He pulled on a plain, black hoody. It didn’t take him long to pick the lock and slide inside the store. There was no time to disable an alarm.

  He stalked in and, guided by the pinprick of light from his flashlight, grabbed the medication from the shelf behind the pharmacy counter and shoved it in his jeans pocket. The tread of his boots made no sound as he hurried out again. He locked and closed the door behind him and raced back to the car.

  No alarm sounded. He was good at leaving no trace. Been trained for it. A ghost on legs. In and out in under two minutes.

  Stacey had managed to turn onto her front. The car door was open for escape. Troy had no fear she’d succeed. He’d bound her up tight, like a sacrificial lamb.

  Her slim frame was no more than a white silhouette flagged by moonlight. Delicate. Beautiful. A rush of protectiveness rose in his gut.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered. This grab was about a trade—one life for another—so any emotion could just fuck off.

  Relieved no cars had passed on this quiet side road, he scooped her up off the back seat, grabbed the blanket, and deposited her in the front before she could open her mouth to raise attention. Closing the car door with a snick, he raced around the SUV and climbed in beside her.

  There was something deeply vulnerable about her as tears trickled from under the duct tape he’d placed across her eyes. Her whole frame shuddered with each attempted breath. He ripped the puffer out of its cardboard box and held it to her lips.

  She heaved in a breath, but he couldn’t seem to get the right angle, so he took a risk and, removing his knife from his boot, he cut the tape that bound her wrists. Fingers outstretched before her like starfish, a blind woman searching for life, she grabbed the proffered inhaler, and after several shots, she started to breathe a bit easier.

  After some time, he placed the water bottle into her hands, and she gulped down water. It spilled over her chest…and the silk nightie she wore became plastered to her breasts.

  Up close, her skin was translucent. Perfect.

  The type rich girls had in those fancy advertisements. This close, she was more beautiful than he could have imagined. His gaze moved down to her breasts. Instantly, he was fucking hard again.

  Hell. He didn’t need this attraction.

  Not now. Not ever.

  She started to claw at the tape over her eyes.

  “Touch that and I’ll throw you in the trunk,” he said. Not that the SUV had a trunk. But she didn’t know that.

  “Bastard.”

  He grinned. “You got it.” He liked her grit. She still had that, despite her posh upbringing.

  His grin faded. Hell, he’d never had to play fucking nursemaid on a grab before. Like it or not, a woman was different than a man, and this one was a princess used to being treated nice.

  He didn’t do nice.

  Why the fuck had she stayed in New Orleans? Why hadn’t she gone back to her trust-fund mommy and her privileged life in New York City? Thank Christ her chest had quit heaving like she’d run a one-minute mile.

  He started the SUV, careful not to turn on the lights until he entered the freeway and could blend into the anonymity of the road.

  It was a short drive to the cabin in the Louisiana swampland his family had owned for generations. The back road he turned onto might be no more than a boggy dirt track, but that made it hard to find and difficult for strangers to navigate. He and his captive would never be disturbed.

  “Who are you?” she rasped.

  “You’ll know soon enough.”

  “What kind of asshole answer is that?”

  He glanced over at her as he navigated the washed-out track. She’d find out, and she’d be mad. Still, she’d only be with him for a few days if Animal was smart and returned Lizzie. “You must be feeling better. You’re getting sassy.”

  “You nearly suffocated me with that filthy blanket.” Her whole body trembled with the indignity of it.

  “Next time, I’ll have it dry-cleaned for you, princess.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

  “I’ll call you what I like. You’re mine now.” Okay, he knew he was goading her, and she probably deserved better, but then again, her moron brother was probably banging Lizzie. Troy was entitled.

  He gripped the steering wheel. He wanted his sister back safe before the whole club went crazy and spread Animal’s guts through New Orleans.

  Which would bring cops.

  His father had worked damn hard building legit businesses for this generation of brothers, which provided work for the sons of the original Slayers, now too old to cause trouble.

  A quiet resolution was a smart one.

  A huge, dirty log had fallen across the road. Great. He looked for a way over or around it. It was too dark to put a rope around it and pull it off the road. They weren’t far from the cabin, and it was unlikely that a gator was straying from the banks of the water this time of night.

  Still, it didn’t pay to be dumb.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re treating me like an animal,” she muttered.

  “No, that’s your brother. Seems he’s living up to his name.”

  Her body rocked and her breasts jiggled as he revved up the SUV and forced it over the log. Luckily, the ground was squishy enough for the weight of the vehicle to push the trunk partially into the ground.

  “So is that what’s this is about?” She raised her bound feet. “And who are you to talk? Whatever my brother has done, it can’t be as bad as kidnapping.”

  “Don’t bet on that.” Either she didn’t know anything about Ani
mal and Lizzie, or she was a good actress. It was too early to tell. He wondered how long he’d have to keep her to get her talking.

  And what methods he’d use…

  One gorgeous, feisty, little blonde princess to play with. Angry and sinfully clad in a semi-see-through nightie. Fuck, his cock was hard.

  “Please tell me what’s going on.” Her mouth wobbled, and his heart stirred. He didn’t like tears.

  “Your brother has some explaining to do.”

  “Brian?”

  “Animal,” he corrected her. “My prospect.” His soon-to-be-taught-a-lesson prospect.

  “What’s he done this time?”

  So, she was staying with the innocent act.

  “He’s taken my younger sister, Elizabeth.”

  Even in the gloom of the car, he could see her mouth drop.

  “What? Do you mean he kidnapped her?”

  “That’s the way I see it.”

  “Ah. So, this is an eye for an eye.”

  “You got it.”

  “Except for one problem. No way. Brian wouldn’t do that.”

  “There was stuff strewn across my sister’s apartment. Signs of a struggle. She didn’t show up for work. I haven’t heard from her for two days. She’s nearly engaged—to someone else. She wouldn’t just disappear.”

  He slowed the SUV to let a big, bright-colored snake cross the wet track. It was breeding time, the males going all out hunting the females, but he didn’t want to kill it. Most Louisiana snakes were harmless.

  “Brian has never hurt anyone,” she insisted.

  Obviously, she had never seen the way her brother handled himself in a fight, something that got all the brothers on his side. The guy had a punch that could take a man’s head off. Once, Troy had seen him throw a disrespectful biker from an affiliate club through a window like a javelin. The guy was plenty capable of being mean.

  “He stalked Lizzie,” Troy said firmly. “Got warned off. Refused to listen to our president. That’s plain stupid.”

  A frown creased her brow as if she were trying to understand. “I swear on my life, Brian won’t hurt Lizzie. I know my brother.”

  “You’d better be right,” Troy muttered.

  “How do you know it was him, anyway?”

  Did she know something about this, or didn’t she? Animal had played him, and he could have played his sister, too.

  “Animal has also disappeared.”

  “Disappeared? Where?” Her voice was small.

  He glanced at her. Big mistake. He still couldn’t get over how stunning she was with her pert nose and full-blooming, suck-cock mouth.

  He forced himself to focus.

  “Now, if I knew that, princess, I wouldn’t have snatched you in return. Damn moron, if he’s hurt one hair on my sister’s head, he is going to suffer.”

  “Don’t you dare touch my brother.”

  “What are you going to do to stop me?” he drawled. “Talk me to death?”

  He rounded a bend that opened up to a clearing, and caught sight of the wooden cabin, which looked out onto the water. He parked the SUV in front of the steps, keeping the car lights on, just in case a gator had decided to make camp on the veranda.

  He loved this place. The back part of the cabin was cantilevered over the water’s edge on stilts, and he and Pa had built a rock wall to stop the water washing under the cabin.

  A bellow rent the air, piercing the night.

  Stacey clutched the seat. “What was that?”

  “A big bastard of a gator.” Probably the territorial male who lived below the cabin. As a boy, he’d caught the newborn gator, tamed him, and named him Psycho. He’d spent hours training him to leap for chicken, much to the delight of Lizzie, who’d clap and tell him how brave he was. Mom had insisted he put Psycho back in the swamp when he got big enough to bite Lizzie.

  Psycho was a huge, dangerous bastard now, but he still came to Troy’s call. He could hand feed him, which caused him no end of amusement, and his mom, horror.

  “Where are we? Why have you stopped?” Stacey peeled off the blindfold and stared at him warily. “You!”

  She should have been afraid. He should have been her worst nightmare, but he swore there was something else in her eyes.

  Heat.

  “Like what you see, princess?”

  She frowned. “I’ve met you! My brother thinks the world of you. Brian says you’re a hero. You can’t be an asshole. Despite your stupid nickname. Beast? Seriously?”

  “Test me, princess, and you’ll find out exactly how much of a Beast I am,” he said. He was definitely no hero but, nevertheless, was pleased with her description of him.

  Her mouth clamped shut, and her baby blues widened. She turned aside, checking out the scene illuminated by the car lights…which he happened to think with its weird swamp lights, mist, and hanging moss, was a slice of heaven.

  Home. Hell of a lot better than the Middle East where he’d been stationed.

  “Stay there until I unload the trunk.”

  It was starting to rain. The last thing he wanted was for her to get cold and wet. He opened the car door so the light came on, ready to get out.

  “You’ve taped my ankles together,” she gritted out. “Where do you think I’m going?”

  He looked her up and down. The woman had a sexy, sassy mouth, which he liked. She was a fighter under that princess exterior. “Nowhere, except into my bed.”

  “The hell I am.” With urgent fingers, she started pulling the tape off her legs.

  “Guess you don’t appreciate how we do justice down South.” He gave her a snarky grin.

  She lunged at him, her fingers like talons, straight for his eyes. He caught her wrists and held on tight until she stopped fighting.

  “You bastard. Who are you to play God?”

  “Settle down, Stacey. You’re only going to be here as long as it takes for me to get my sister back.”

  “You think you just get to mete out justice like some country hick?”

  “That’s the way it’s done down here. You don’t like it, you should’ve stayed up North.”

  “I’ll have you charged with kidnapping.”

  He clamped his lips together impatiently. “This trade will go down a whole lot better if you cooperate. I need to get Lizzie back and keep the brothers out of this.”

  “Or what?”

  “They’ll mete out justice their way. And trust me, that won’t be pretty.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And you? What would you do differently?”

  “I’d let him live, which is more than Lizzie’s boyfriend will do.”

  She looked away, and he let his gaze move over her. Damn, she attracted him in a way no other woman had ever done, built a fire in him with just a look.

  Which meant he had to be damn careful.

  Once this was finished, this girl was going to be put on a plane and sent back to New York.

  She snapped her thighs together, clearly seeing where his gaze had landed.

  The money shot. He grinned. Pussy perfect. Just the sight of her made him horny as hell. She might be vulnerable, but he was the one with blue balls.

  He jumped out and started taking supplies into the cabin. The one-bedroom wooden shack wasn’t much, but he loved the place because Ma had conjured food out of nothing and made it a home with her little touches of beauty. He’d grown up there.

  Pa came from Louisiana swamp people. Hard men. Dirt poor. Troy had wanted to buck the trend and go to university to study, but Pa had insisted he follow the family tradition of going into the military, so he did. He’d learned to repair every goddamned engine he came across. He didn’t regret his choice. Not really.

  The mechanical training the army gave him in his first four years had paid off. There was nothing he couldn’t install or fix. The guys he’d served with always joked his hands were magic.

  He unloaded the SUV and went back up the steps and around to the side of the veranda to power up the gener
ator. From his first army pay packet, he’d saved to put some mod cons into the cabin, starting with electricity to fire up the lights and a refrigerator. Slowly, he’d installed solid doors, windows with shutters and fly screens, and repaired the walls, so while the cabin seemed rustic on the outside, it locked up tighter than a fish’s ass.

  He strode down the front steps and yanked open the SUV door to get Stacey. A well-aimed kick to the guts winded him. He bent double, gasped, and heaved in air.

  Seriously? Fucking pussy-whipped!

  He should never have untied her.

  She shoved him and raced off down the dirt track into the darkness, the discarded tape mocking him. Clutching the SUV door, he pulled himself to standing. He’d definitely underestimated her. This slip of a girl had aimed a blow deadlier than a marine.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  The whole place swarmed with predators. Grabbing his large flashlight, he stumbled after her, sure that the nightie she was wearing would light up like a sunbeam the moment his flashlight hit her.

  Nothing. Shit. Rage hit him until every nerve ending prickled and his hand formed a fist. Despite the spasming muscles in his solar plexus, he surged forward, searching the track for footprints. They weren’t hard to find, but they soon disappeared when the road became boggy.

  He shone his flashlight around. He heard a snap nearby and turned. “Come out, Stacey. The predators will kill you. I won’t harm a hair on your head.” A growl echoed around the swamp in the background, a sign the male alligator was hunting. “The gators are big enough to take down a human. You won’t last a minute out here without me.”

  Chapter Four

  Right. Nice try. Beast’s threat wouldn’t scare Stacey.

  She stripped off her nightgown and smeared herself in slimy, bog-smelling mud, betting on it saving her against a trip to hell with Beast. Of all people. She could barely believe her eyes when she’d pulled off the tape. Beast. The huge biker her brother had insisted was a good guy.

  Beast. What a goddamned hideous name. Suited him, though. He was huge and hot and dangerous. To hell with her crazy crush. Brian was in danger, and this man had the means to punish him. She had to get away from him and warn Brian. Her brother had pushed things too far this time.