Reese's fingers trail down my neck, and I try to move out of the way, but I can’t. I’m trapped.
“You really are beautiful, Lola,” he breathes out.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
He chuckles, leaning in and running his tongue along my throat. I swallow the nausea and hold back the tears burning my eyes. The panic burning at my chest.
When I open my eyes, he’s right there. Just a breath away from my face.
“You don’t have to be this man, Reese. You don’t have to do this.”
He drops to his knees and runs his hands along my thighs. I hold my breath, refusing to look at him.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he mutters. “Isn’t that what your husband likes to say?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my body trembling as he starts working the rope on my left ankle.
“While Beau plays pretend to keep Hunter away, I get you all to myself. Finally get a taste of this pussy that cost me my best friend.”
I clench my thighs. I’m defenseless. And that alone burns me inside. That right now, this creep has power over me.
“You’re a sick piece of shit, Reese. If it hurt what he did to you before, what do you think he will do to you this time?” I look at him now, watching as he swallows hard.
“He won’t touch me. If we pull this off, we will have the Greeks protecting us.”
I laugh. Really fucking laugh. These men are delusional. “You wouldn’t last a day with the mafia, Reese. You’re a pathetic asshole that can’t keep a woman.”
He rips the first rope from me and drags my legs open, despite my resisting with everything that I can. “I hate you,” I spit. “No matter what you do, I’ll always hate you. I’ll always love your best friend. No matter what you do, I’d never get any pleasure from you. I’d hate every single second.”
His jaw twitches, and the door flies open, Wyatt’s cries filling the room.
Reese’s eyes blow open as he throws himself away from me on the floor.
Beau walks in with Wyatt in his arms. My son. Because that’s what he is, that’s what he became the moment he took my hand and led me upstairs to read him a story. When he told me he loved me. My kid is clinging to Beau’s neck with wide, terrified eyes.
He’s been crying. His cheeks are blotchy. His lip is trembling. “Take me back home!” he sobs.
And then, as Beau crosses the room, Wyatt’s eyes find mine. “Lola!”
He scrambles out of Beau’s arms and runs to me. His little hands grab at my legs, my knees, trying to climb into my lap. When he sees the ropes, he freezes.
“Why are you tied up?” His voice is so small.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s a game. I’m okay.” The lie burns my throat. “Just come sit with me.”
He climbs into my lap and presses his face into my chest. His whole body is shaking. I can’t hold him; my hands are tied behind the chair, so I press my chin against the top of his head, close my eyes, and will myself to be enough.
Reese stands, and his face is white. “What the fuck is this?” He stares at Beau. “Why is the kid here?”
Beau sets down a bag by the door. “We need more insurance. I can’t mess this up. And Hunter gave me the perfect opportunity when he went running off looking for her,” he hisses, looking dead at me.
My heart races. Hunter knows something is wrong. That in itself gives me hope.
“Insurance?” Reese’s voice pitches up. “That is Hunter Sterling’s son. His child,Beau. Do you have any idea what he will do when he finds out you took his kid?”
Okay. So, Reese has more morals than Beau.
“Hunter isn’t going to find us,” he says way too confidently.