Chained to You, Vol. 3-4 Read online

  As he stared at the passing bright lights of Las Vegas, James flicked his mind to Mia. Instantly, his eyes darkened. He remembered the brave face she'd put up when he'd told her that her brother was missing. He had avoided using the word kidnapped in consideration of her sensitive constitution. She was new to his dark and dangerous world, a domain most citizens avoided at all cost, deluding themselves into believing it didn't exist. Fuck! It bloody hell existed. And he was one of the men who controlled it.

  He knew Mia had done her best to stay calm, to do whatever she could in the situation to help find her brother.

  That's my brave girl, he thought, a smile forming on his lips. She understood the state of affairs, unlike his bitchy ex-wife Whitney. He could just imagine the woman would be hysterical if she were in this type of situation. Of course, she didn't have a brother, or any siblings for that matter, since she was an only child, rich and spoiled to the core. Though, he couldn't imagine she'd cared if any member of her family were to go missing. After all, she hadn't given a fuck about her own daughter when she'd run off with her then lover. The sad thing was she still didn't give a fuck about Aria. What was even sadder was the fact that, day by day, Aria's memory of Whitney was slowly disappearing. One day, James was sure Aria wouldn't even know who Whitney was.

  Of course, Whitney would blame him, because she could. This was because of who and what he was, the sort of business he was involved in.

  Fuck! He was a Maxwell. One of the few powerful families who controlled America behind the scenes, the billionaire elites most feared. Dealing with this type of business was in his blood. It thrilled him, and he loved it.

  His mind suddenly turned to the fear mixed with worry he'd seen in Mia's eyes. He had felt utterly protective of her then. He hated it when he'd seen her wearing that particular look a few days ago when he'd first made love to her. He knew now it was because of her Uncle Herbert who had been molesting her when she was young. What a fucking sick bastard.

  Oh, he vowed to himself she'd never wear that look in front of him again. Ever! He'd make sure of that. He'd protect her and those she cared for. She was his, and it was his responsibility to take care of her.

  Once again, he reminded himself he'd have to deal with Mia's uncle and her job back in Mystic Spring as soon as possible. After all, she was his mistress now, and his mistress simply didn't work. Least of all as a kitchen hand in a shitty restaurant, with a boss who didn't respect her. Of course, her only job now was to please him, both in and out of bed.

  It was some fifteen minutes later when they arrived. It was four in the morning, and the place was dimly visible, thanks to the lights along the streets.

  James got out first and noted Tory was waiting patiently. He wasn't so pleased, however, when he saw William as well, leaning against the car, his arms crossed over his chest, a dark smirk on his face.

  Matt glared the moment he eyed Tory. He slammed the car door shut and proceeded to head over to Tory.

  "Good morning, gentlemen," Tory greeted as the men came his way.

  "Tory," James greeted in return.

  Matt said, "You better not get in my way."

  Tory chuckled. "No problem."

  William cocked his head to one side when James said, "I didn't know you'd be joining us."

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I figure it'd be fun."

  James knew William had a thing against the Mexican. It was some deal that had gone seriously wrong a few years back, and he'd never really forgiven them. In a way, they were the same, William and him. Forgiving people who had screwed them up in the past wasn't in their nature.

  It was then a dozen more men joined them, all wearing black suits and donning firearms. Their stances were tense as they waited for the instructions from James.

  And indeed, James barked out orders, telling them to secure the perimeter and to shoot before questioning if it wasn't one of their own.

  The small troop of men in black suits quickly and expertly dispersed and went about doing their assigned job in securing the area.

  "Shall we, gentlemen?" James said, leading the way toward the ominous building.

  Walking beside him was Matt, his hands fisted tight. James understood Matt was both angry at the Mexican and worried about Andy's welfare. He knew his friend blamed himself for what happened, for giving the Mexican an opportunity to abduct Andy, for letting his guard down. James, of course, would feel the same if anything were to happen to Mia.

  Fuck! This type of shit had better not happen to Mia.

  Behind James and Matt were Tory and William. The two handsome men looked utterly relaxed, though that was merely a farce. Deep inside, they were thrilled and deliriously excited, ready to fuck up the Mexicans and make them sorry for even daring to kidnap one of their friend's boys.

  Matt liked to use force and showed up with a grand entrance. He kicked the door down with a bang and roared out, "Carlos! You're fucking screwed for taking Andy. You're going to be so fucking sorry for this."

  Chapter 4

  James

  The men entered the dimly lit foyer. James had his hands in his pants pockets as he eyed the Mexican men surrounding them. Every one of them had firearms in their hands, pointing the dangerous weapons at them, ready for action.

  The four billionaires didn't bat an eyelid at the fact that they were severely outnumbered and the loaded guns were pointing at them, ready to shoot them dead within a blink of an eye.

  Carlos entered the scene at that moment. Short, stocky, bald-headed, and with a thick, black moustache, he was oozing confidence over where this eerie nighttime conference was heading. He was fucking positive he was going to get his way--a piece of the real estate pie in Sin City where his cartel was so going to soar like a fucking eagle.

  "Bienvenido! Bienvenido!" He chuckled, his arms spread out. "I can't believe you actually came because of a boy." He laughed out merrily. "And all four of you, too."

  Matt couldn't stand the sarcastic greeting and growled out, "Where the fuck is Andy?"

  Carlos shrugged. "We're here to do a deal, are we not, Senor Caine?" He cocked his head to one side arrogantly. "No deal, no boy."

  Matt seethed with outrage. "Go fuck yourself, Carlos."

  James said coldly, "The snake behind the business, eh?"

  "He definitely looks like a fucking snake, all right," Tory said.

  "A fat, ugly one," William added. "Damn, James, are we going to have any fun at all? Or are you guys just going to be fucking talking all night?"

  "Now we're talking," Tory said, his eyes bright with anticipation.

  James understood William's and Tory's eagerness and Matt's impatience. Andy's life could be hanging on the line, and they had no time to waste on bullshit conversation.

  "No deal, Carlos," he said. "No fucking way. Like hell I'm going to let your gangs pollute my turf with your imported drugs."

  "You heard the man," Matt said, swiftly pulling out a sleek gun from within his jacket. "Now be a good boy and go get Andy for me."

  Carlos was seething at the cold rejection. No one had ever rebuffed him before, especially when that deal could make the other party millions.

  He yelled, "Like hell you're going to get out of here alive. I'll kill you all."

  "That's where you're wrong, Carlos," James said. "You're the one who's not going to get out of here alive."

  William cocked his head to one side and said, "You see, Carlos? Us? We're well known. We have connections in high places. If anything happens to us, oh, you'll have hell to pay. But you?"

  "No one gives a shit," Tory added.

  "If you're dead," Matt said darkly as he unlocked the safety of his gun and moved the weapon toward the Mexican. "Now Andy, bring him here."

  Carlos wasn't a very intelligent man. He acted on his fear and rage. Without thinking, he barked orders to his men. "Shoot them! Kill them all!"

  Within a flick of an eye, Matt pulled the trigger and shot Carlos dead on the spot, the bullet hitting smack
between the man's eyes. A second later, he pulled another gun from within his jacket. With the two weapons in hand, he went all out and started shooting, bullets flying in every direction.

  James pulled his own gun and started shooting, each shot hit smack in the head of his target. William dived low, rolled on the floor, and expertly sat up, hiding himself behind a wall as he withdrew his guns. As with his friends, he started shooting at the Mexicans, his eyes sharp and a sly smile playing across his lips. Fuck! He was enjoying himself tremendously.

  The moment Carlos opened his mouth to order the kill, Tory pulled out his gun and expertly moved his body in a karate style, kicking, bashing, and shooting at the same time. Every move was smooth and effortless--graceful.

  Within the dimness of the foyer, there was only the echoing of gunshots and the sparks of bullets flying. In quick succession, bodies followed by bodies fell to the floor. In a matter of minutes, every one of the Mexicans were dead, their bodies on the floor everywhere, blood soaking the concrete slab.

  William sighed, unsatisfied. "Fuck! That was quick."

  "Damn! I was hoping it'd be more challenging," Tory commented, placing his gun back into his jacket.

  Matt wasn't listening to the complaints of his friends. He headed to the door, and James followed. Tory and William glanced at each other, nodded, and followed the other two.

  James and Matt came into a corridor, and the men started kicking down every door, hoping to find Andy.

  William finally did, the last one in the building that led them to the basement. Matt rushed down, shouting Andy's name. James wasn't far behind when suddenly he heard, "Fuck!" Followed by: "Andy! Andy!"

  James came into the basement to find Matt hugging Andy tightly. Andy looked like a gorgeous corpse, his body weak and lifeless. It looked like the boy couldn't move an inch, and he was barely breathing. Fuck. He was severely injured, his clothes torn and his body wounded with countless signs of inhuman torture.

  When the brutally beaten Andy finally managed to rise his face up a little to look around him, as if to see what was going on, James felt a lump form in his throat and a sickening feeling erupted within his being.

  Sunken, lifeless brown eyes gaze at him without recognition. Dishevel, dirty black hair hung over that gorgeous face that was now ruined beyond imagination with cuts, bruises, swelling, and bleedings.

  Fuck! In that moment, the picture of Andy in such a piteous, lifeless state snatched James's breath away--in a fucking bad way. The boy looked so similar to his sister that he had thought Andy had been Mia, and he felt sick. So fucking sick inside. Once he had regained his sense, rage erupted within his beings and a surge of protectiveness for Mia and those she loved returned hot in his blood anew. Immediately, he wanted to return to the hotel to make sure Mia was okay.

  Fuck! He wanted to see her face, to hug her tight against him, to feel her soft, warm body against him, and smell her frangipani scent that had so intrigued him since he had first met her. Fuck, but he wanted to kiss her. Not the passionate, wild kiss before he took her but that gentle, tender kiss that told him she was fine. That she hadn't been taken hostage and ruthlessly beaten. That her life wasn't on the line.

  "We should get going," he said urgently to Matt.

  Matt, still hugging Andy tight in his arms, nodded. He said, his voice trembling and edgy, "Yeah." He lift Andy up in his arms, and they headed back up.

  Chapter 5

  Mia

  Despite the fact James had told me to return to sleep, I simply couldn't. My eyes were wide open as I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, my mind on my brother.

  Have they found Andy yet? I wondered contritely. Was Andy okay? Was he wounded?

  Questions after questions kept echoing in my head, demanding for answers I couldn't offer.

  It was seven-thirty in the morning when I decided to get out of bed and do something about my hunger. I quickly ordered room service, and while I waited for my breakfast to turn up, I showered to clear my head. Once I was finished and dressed in a new dress James had bought for me from Fleur, I headed into the living area and waited some more. My mind was still on Andy, James, and Matt when the knock came at the door. I had entirely forgotten about breakfast.

  I hastily went to open the door and found a maid there rolling in the trolley filled with delicious sustenance. She left again after asking me if I wanted anything else.

  Alone, I sat and ate because it was something I could do to take my mind off my brother. I was pretty sure I'd go insane a few hours later when the door opened and James walked in.

  My heart leaped with hope, and I immediately rushed over to him. My eyes were bright and large with expectation when I asked, "Andy?"

  Even though he had been out during the majority of the night and had not slept for more than a few hours, he still looked damn handsome with his dark hair now just a little dishevel but still stylish like usual, his eyes dark with an intense fury that was hard not to notice, and his face a black mask. He looked like a man who had just returned from the kill, which if indeed he had found Andy, then he had been doing the killing.

  James cupped my face as he stared hard at me, as though he was drinking in my features, marveling at them. He seemed lost for a moment as he gazed at me, which confused me.

  I was eager and needed to know if he had found my brother, and so I broke the silence once again. "James? My brother?"

  Slowly, a smile appeared across his lips. He leaned toward me and gave me a kiss. It was that light brush between our lips that was both warm and promising, making my heart glow with delight.

  When he moved back, he took my hand. "He's find."

  His words made my body sing with delight. "Really? You've found him?"

  He nodded in response. So many emotions erupted within me then. One of those emotions was relief. It swept through me like the wave of a calm ocean. I was so happy I couldn't help myself and rushed up. I wrapped my arms round him a tightly.

  "Oh, James, thank you so much," I said, tears in my eyes. "You don't know how much this means to me."

  As I buried my face against his thick, muscular chest, sobbing and chuckling at the same time, I felt James patting my head, comforting me.

  When I finally moved back, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, knowing I must look horrible.

  James shook his head. "Sometimes I truly forget how young you are," he said softly, wiping tears off my cheek with his large thumb.

  I bit my lip, wondering if he was disappointed in me for being so young and naive. For being so inexperience in his world. I would imagine the only type of woman suitable for him would be the sexy bombshell type who oozed confidence and money. The type of woman who clearly wasn't me. I was only his mistress. The one he kept locked in his bedroom in secret. The one he would never be proud of and show off to his family and circle of friends.

  The thought sadden me, but I didn't have time to think about that now. My brother was more important than my sad circumstance.

  I flicked my mind to Andy and raised my face to James.

  "Andy? Where is he now?" I asked.

  "At the hospital," he said.

  I paled immediately at his reply. If Andy was at the hospital, it could only mean one thing. He was hurt. Gravely.

  My stomach knotted in dread. I raised my eyes to James, wanting to ask him so badly what my brother's condition was.

  "Is... is he okay?" I asked, my voice shaking. No, wait. James said Andy was okay, so it couldn't be that bad. But I needed to make sure. "Is he hurt badly?"

  James said, "He's fine."

  It was then I knew James's and my interpretation of 'fine' were different. My fine meant totally healthy, no cuts and no bruises. As in everyday fine. James's fine probably meant a few bones broken, cuts, and bruises but will live.

  "I want to go and see him now," I said.

  He nodded.

  Without hesitation, I rushed into the bedroom, grabbed my bag and was back in a flash. "Let's go."

>   James chuckled at my eagerness. He obliged without protest despite the fact that he had just returned from saving my brother's life--tired, worn-out, and probably hungry. He took me by the hand and led me out the door.

  Some half an hour later, we were in a hospital. James took me to the eight floor where I assumed the intensive care unit was. He then led me into a private patient room, and the moment I saw Andy, I gasped. Oh Andy. His handsome face was all black and blue with bruises and cuts, and his torso and arms were all bandaged up.

  A gasp escaped my lips as I stood there, staring at my brother in sick disbelief. Who? Who could have done this to my brother? How cruel!

  To think that Andy was already this damaged when James and Matt found him within hours. Would he have even lived at all if they hadn't found him in such short notice?

  Suddenly, rage erupted within me. Oh, how I wanted to hurt the person who had hurt my brother. The emotion was so overwhelming I felt like choking.

  I stood there rooted to the spot at the door as I watch Andy painfully opening his eyes, probably for the first time since he had been admitted in the hospital. My brother was gazing at me, at first without really seeing, as though he was in confusion. I couldn't blame him. He was probably pumped with morphine and dazed and sore from the beating. Then when he recognized me, I saw the darkness within those beautiful brown eyes of his, and knew he didn't want me to see him like this. He looked pained the moment he recognized me. His condition reminded us of the many times he had been beaten up by Uncle Herbert.

  "Andy," I said softly, my voice weak.

  I felt James hands about my shoulders, as encouragement for me to move forward. Empowered, I did, my gait slow and weak.

  Once near the side of the bed, I couldn't help myself and collapsed on Andy, tears in my eyes. I hugged him tight in my arms as I buried my face against his bandages chest.

  "Andy! You're okay. You're safe." I sobbed. "Oh, I'm so happy you're safe."

  With my face against his chest, I felt his body shook with emotion.

  "Mia," he whispered. "I'm sorry I worried you. I'm so sorry."

  I raised my head, tears in my eyes. "No. It's not your fault. It's not your fault," I said, shaking my head. "You know that. I'm just so glad to see you safe and sound."