101 Nights Box Set: Volume Two Read online

  “What do we know, aside from the fact George and his boss are total assholes?” I ask out loud and begin pacing. “Someone else was tracking Natalie to know she was alone in the garage. George is an absolute asshole, but he is good at his job.” Unfortunately. I want to hate him and end up respecting how good he is. There’s more evidence on his system of how thorough and experienced he is at protecting people. “His security men were present in the lobby but swept the garage before going stationary. No one could’ve set up an ambush more than half an hour in advance.”

  Everything I’m finding leads back to one conclusion: that the only way someone can defeat George’s security precautions is by being on the inside. Someone who had knowledge of how to track Natalie, who may even have bugged her apartment to know when she left it for the garage.

  It’s hard for me to identify who it might be without knowing how exactly they did it.

  “Alisha!” George tries the door and finds it locked.

  Two can play this stupid game. I glance towards the door. I didn’t sleep after he left me alone in his bed. I dragged a trunk and decorative chair into the computer room and spent fifteen minutes bracing the door in a way I don’t think he can get through, unless he blows it up. He left his watch on the nightstand, and I snagged it before barring the office door to use for accessing his computer.

  After a nap, I then started working again, searching his laptop to see what I could find.

  “Open up!”

  “No!” I shout back. “I’m busy working.”

  “Are you on my laptop?” There’s a dangerous note in his voice, one that tells me what I want to know: George has secrets, and I can get to them.

  Except I have something better to do right now.

  “None of your business!” I tell him.

  “What’s your plan? Stay in there forever?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Have you considered what happens when you’re hungry or require a trip to the toilets?”

  No. My smile fades. I don’t really think that far in advance. “We’ll find out, won’t we?” I snap.

  I do another restless search on the two security team members that accompanied Natalie yesterday. Because of the virus I sicced on George’s network, I have to use Tony’s computer to connect to the Wi-Fi, and I’m a little leery of using it. If he has it mirrored somehow, he’ll see what I’m doing, which will complicate matters more. The usual sources online have nothing derogatory about George’s two security team members who were with Natalie when she disappeared. There’s nothing in George’s detailed files about the men, either.

  If they weren’t involved then who was? I don’t know enough about Natalie’s inner circle here to guess.

  George would. Except he’s an asshat I can’t trust. For all I know, he’d take off with any information I uncover and drop me off on Tony’s doorstep with a red bow tied around me.

  “I need the internet,” I groan. I can’t do too much on Tony’s computer, and I can’t get anywhere without unrestricted online access. Natalie knows how to contact me. If she has a chance, she will.

  But that requires me being able to access my online network. I can’t risk doing from here.

  “Hey, George!” I call.

  “Yes?”

  I can picture him seated on a chair outside the door, determined to wait me out. “This place has RFID blockers, doesn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  I nod thoughtfully. He’s right about me being safer here than anywhere else. Tony may be stupid enough to write his password on his laptop, but he’s also got a tracker in his laptop somewhere. He has to. He can’t risk losing it. George’s alarm system blocks such transmissions from leaving the penthouse. It means I’m in a blind spot, until I leave with the laptop.

  This may be the only place in the universe where I’m safe. I hate George for being right about that, too.

  “Any luck?” he calls.

  “Like I’ll tell you.”

  “It’s in your best interest to do so.”

  “Right.” I roll my eyes.

  “If you’ve noticed, you have the Russian mob after you, and I don’t think you’ll get far without some sort of assistance.”

  I hate how confident and calm he is. What makes it worse is that he’s right. Once I leave this place, I’ll have a limited amount of time to ditch Tony’s computer and make it to my emergency stash of travel documents and money.

  The alternative is that I hide here, and Natalie dies.

  “There has to be something here.” I focus on George’s laptop. I need leverage. He won’t protect me for my own good; he’ll do it until he no longer needs me, which could be the minute I set foot outside the condo.

  I’m too smart to be cornered like that.

  He’s got nothing personal saved on this computer, only business stuff. Files on everyone who crosses paths with Elijah and Natalie. Current and historical security team and staff personnel, schedules and procedures.

  The hope of blackmailing George slides away as another idea hits me. I go through the staff files once more, this time picking out those people who interacted with Natalie yesterday. Elijah, two security team members, Natalie’s mother, an assistant named Maya, the personal wardrobe advisor, me. The staff and security team members check in automatically at designated intervals: when they start work for the morning, leave or return to the condo, take breaks or meals and at other random points during the day when George pings their location.

  There’s nothing blatantly suspicious that I can see. The staff and security members are disciplined and check in on time without being reminded. Everyone was where they were assigned to be during the random checks. One staff member arrived to work late yesterday. I open the file of Maya, a cousin of Elijah’s.

  “George,” I call. “Did you monitor the logs for the staff’s activities yesterday?”

  “Of course.”

  “Everyone checked in on time during the day, right?”

  “I didn’t hear otherwise.”

  “Did you see the anomaly?”

  There’s a pause, then, “No.”

  “Someone was five minutes late to start work yesterday. And … a few times the past week. There’s absolutely nothing else out of the ordinary, and your system only alerts you if someone is more than ten minutes late.”

  “You think someone in the staff is the mystery shadow in the garage.”

  “Yep.”

  “I screen everyone extensively before hiring.”

  “I know. But you didn’t really hire this person. It’s more like … nepotism,” I say.

  “Maya and Issa. Which one was late?” He doesn’t sound surprised, and I’m not sure how to interpret that.

  “Hint: the one who interacts the most with Natalie.”

  “Maya.”

  “Bingo.” I surf through Maya’s file. She’s as boring as can get on paper. “Could be nothing.”

  Then I see it: a tiny, inconsequential note, one that probably wouldn’t mean anything at any other time. Could be everything. Or at least, a starting point.

  “There are no coincidences in my line of work.”

  Agreed. “Maybe you should go hunt her down,” I prod in irritation. “Or pull her phone records or something. I can’t do it from here with no real internet.”

  “I pulled and scrubbed everyone’s records already. There’s nothing on the phones we know about that Maya owns,” he tells me. “Very well. I’ll have her brought in. I’d recommend not leaving the condo.”

  It sounds like a suggestion, but I know it couldn’t be further from it. “Alrighty.” I sit back and reach for my bag. The Taser is charged and ready, and I pull it free before dropping all three laptops into my bag.

  I wait a minute then go to the door and press my ear to it. I don’t hear any sort of movement, even breathing. I wait a little longer before tugging the strap of my bag over my head and moving my barricade away from the door.

  Cracking the door open
, I listen again before setting foot into the bedroom.

  The bed is made, a sign that what happened really was nothing.

  Not my focus right now! Taser in hand, I hurry across the room to the half-open door, take a deep breath and ease into the hallway.

  The guard George left outside his room moves instantly. It’s pure instinct that drives my reaction: I Taser him without hesitation and cringe as he convulses, silently apologizing for hurting him. It’s unavoidable, but I still feel bad for him.

  Only when he drops to the ground and is still do I realize I’ve been holding my breath. My heart is hammering in my ears, my nerves not yet recovered from the insane night.

  Shoving the Taser in my bag, I race through the penthouse to the elevators and hit the down button a million times, until the door opens.

  And reveals George, leaning coolly against the back of the elevator, grey eyes expressionless and hands clasped in front of him. He’s clearly waiting for me.

  “I had a feeling you’d try to leave,” he states.

  My face burns red, first out of embarrassment and then out of anger. It’s harder for me to shut the door on what happened between us when he’s in front of me. That someone this incredibly attractive did what he did to me …

  I don’t know if I’m overheating out of need or fury. Or maybe, both.

  “Out of curiosity, where would you have gone?” he asks without leaving the elevator.

  He has a way of politely kicking me when I’m already down. I find myself breathing in more deeply to get a whiff of his intoxicating scent and order my hormones to stop and my mind to start working.

  “Shouldn’t you be following up on Maya?” I return.

  “It’s being done.”

  With a growl of frustration, I spin on my heel and start back towards the computer room, hoping I reach it and can barricade myself in again before he catches me.

  George’s grip on my arm stops me short, before I reach the end of the hallway. He pulls me to face him and backs me into the wall behind me. My heels rub against it, and I stare at his wide chest, not wanting to notice his heat and strength, and definitely not wanting him to know how overwhelmed I feel every time he’s this close to me.

  “What did you find?” he asks softly, the dangerous edge back in his voice.

  “I told you.”

  “No. There’s more.” He tilts my chin up, and I meet that steely grey gaze.

  My god he’s … breathtaking. In a terrifying, beautiful, raw way. His body is inches from mine, his scent and presence filling my senses. My best friend is missing, and all I can think about is the way George’s fingers felt inside me, the way he stoked my orgasm and kissed me with such passion … how his thumb is moving back and forth over my chin … how warm and solid he is and how much more incredible he must look without clothing.

  I’m the worst friend ever.

  “What did you find?” he repeats.

  “You mean that you missed?”

  “It’s why you’re here.” He doesn’t even flinch.

  The rhythm of his thumb moving back and forth is hypnotic. I can’t summon words, can barely keep my thoughts straight.

  “I’ll reward you with another orgasm or two. Or more, if you let me use more than my fingers,” he whispers, his gaze dropping to my lips.

  I want so much to think the sensation of being about to explode is from anger, but I’m pretty sure it’s from being so turned on, I’m fighting to keep on my feet. “Fuck you, George,” I manage and stumble away from him. Only when I’m several feet away from him can I breathe right again.

  “That is what I had in mind.”

  “It. Won’t. Happen.” I’m gritting my teeth. My body is rebelling, but I can’t … won’t let my impulsive side fall under his seductive spell again.

  “You aren’t leaving here with any of your secrets,” he warns.

  “I told you. Talk to Maya.”

  “Alisha.” A note of frustration is in his tone. He starts towards me again, and I backpedal until I reach another wall. “Look, we are both trying to find Natalie. We need to work together. Even if you found her, what can you do when Tony and his goons will find you the minute you set foot outside the penthouse?”

  “I don’t care!”

  “But you should. Natalie’s life depends on it.”

  “Would you stop?” I cry. “Like you care at all about her. I do, George! She’s not just a job or a file to me!”

  “Then start taking this partnership seriously,” he growls, a spark of emotion in his gaze.

  “You’re going to lecture me about a partnership? Who seduced who?”

  “It was nothing to me. Just sex.”

  “Omigod could you be anymore of an asshole?” I push at him.

  He catches my wrists. “Why shouldn’t two people attracted to one another fuck? It doesn’t have to mean something in the morning.”

  It does to someone like me. His words are hitting me harder than I like, especially since I’m figuring out what kind of person he really is.

  “You wanted to know what it was like to hire a prostitute, and I showed you,” he points out. “I did exactly what you asked of me and no more.”

  It dawns on me his dig this morning wasn’t at me. He wasn’t calling me a whore; he was taking the place of one, showing me he wasn’t like Tony. But why choose now to demonstrate something like this when we’re working on finding Natalie, and I’m clearly an emotional train wreck already? Is he that stupid that he doesn’t understand the effect of what he does to someone like me?

  George is the least stupid person I’ve ever known. He has to know I can’t separate my emotions from my world, which only leaves one conclusion: he’s purposely fucking with my head. I don’t understand why.

  “Like you said,” I manage, my anger softening, even if I know it shouldn’t. “It takes a certain temperament for the no-strings-attached lifestyle. I don’t have it.” Even though I want you so bad.

  He studies me.

  I can’t read him.

  “Maybe you don’t,” he agrees. “If you want to find Natalie, you need my help. Bottom line. Leave if you want and watch your world crumble long before you have a chance to find her. Stay with me, and you’ve got a chance.” He releases me and steps back. “It’s your choice, Alisha.”

  Without another word, George strikes out down the hallway, back towards his room.

  I watch him, scattered and frustrated. I know he’s telling the truth. I know my emotions are in the way.

  If I stay, I’m going to have a hard time fighting my attraction to him, even knowing anything that happens between us will never mean a thing to someone like him. But I’ll have a better chance at finding Natalie.

  If I go … Aside from risking another run in with Tony’s hired men, I don’t have enough information to reach Natalie on my own. I might eventually, but right now, all I have is a name. I planned to do what I always do: run and then figure it out when I got somewhere.

  I can’t risk losing Natalie because I’m scared and overwhelmed. I hate the realization enough that my eyes water.

  George always makes it sound like a choice, but it’s clearly not and never has been. In truth, I’m out of ideas on how I can do this on my own. I have hit men following me, a kidnapped friend, and several days until the arrangements I made will be in place. Unless something changes, I don’t know how I’ll stay alive long enough to help Natalie on my own.

  I trudge down the hallway after him and pause at the guy I Tasered. “He’s alive, right?” I ask, frowning.

  “He’ll be fine,” comes the unconcerned response. “I want my laptop and watch. Now.”

  “Sorry, dude,” I whisper to the man at my feet. Stepping over him, I enter the room and pull out George’s laptop and watch. I copied everything I could to mine, so I’m not worried about missing any secrets I might find later when I have time to exploit them better. I cross to the office, enter and hold them out to him.

  George takes
it and spins to face the monitors. “Have a seat,” he says and pats his lap with one hand.

  My heart jolts. “No thanks.”

  “You had no problem earlier when my fingers were buried in your pussy.”

  I hear my breath catch and hate myself for my body’s reaction to him.

  “Gives new meaning to the name Super Dick, doesn’t it?” he adds.

  “I really hate that name,” I mumble.

  “Come on. Think of me as that prostitute you want to hire. I’ll only do what you ask me to and no more.”

  “Except give me your laptop and let me go.”

  “Excellent point. I’ll do anything you ask me to – in bed.”

  There aren’t words for what I think of him right now. My face is hot, and so is my body. I’m horrified when my imagination takes off at the notion he’ll do whatever I ask in bed.

  He pats his lap, and I go to him, unable to muster any sort of response.

  “As a reminder, a whore feels nothing for those he or she services,” he adds as I perch on his legs. “You are one more appointment in the book, so don’t worry about my feelings. I have none when it comes to you.”

  I didn’t think it possible to hate you more, George. I say nothing, eyes straight ahead on the laptop screen. I’m too embarrassed ever to admit what I thought: that maybe he thought me smart enough to like me a little.

  “Show me what you found,” he directs me. His hands slide off the laptop’s keyboard and rest on my upper thighs, high enough that the heat in my belly spreads and makes my crotch tingle.

  I navigate to the tidbit that alerted me earlier, doing my best to ignore the physical sensations of being in contact with George.

  “Are you serious about doing whatever I want in bed?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “What if I want to beat you with a whip or tie you up?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  My fingers pause. “You’re serious?”

  “As you Yanks would say … I’ve been around the block a few times. You couldn’t surprise me,” he answers easily. “You into that kind of stuff?”

  “I don’t know.” I clear my throat. “I really like the idea of beating you with a whip, though.”

  “As long as there’s no-strings-attached sex involved at some point, I don’t care.”