Relentless Night (New York Knights Book 4) Read online

  Max releases my other hand to stop my self-harm. “No, don’t.” His tone is firm as he wraps his warm hand around mine. “Don’t beat yourself up. Please. I don’t blame you for whatever happened.”

  “Well you should, and you might change your mind once you hear it all.”

  I swallow against a sudden agonizing rigidity in my throat and blink away the sting at the back of my eyes. So much for therapy. I thought I’d overcome the excruciating shame and guilt but it’s all here.

  “Are you okay to go on?” His hand cups the nape of my neck.

  “Yes. I need to. I moved his money. My plan was to give it to my father and he’d use it to pay the man back. Isn’t that genius? Pay the bastard with his own money. It didn’t take me long, only hours, to realize how flawed my idea was and I quickly undid everything. Again, I foolishly thought no one would be the wiser and I’d figure out another way to help my father.”

  We share a weak, pathetic smile. Both lamenting the naivety of a silly girl.

  “Papa didn’t know what I’d done, and I thought I had time. I was wrong. This horrible man had his own brilliant hacker and they knew everything. I’d messed up. It was too late. The next day, I came home to men in my house. My parents were held at gunpoint and that despicable man promised them death, and as if that wasn’t enough punishment, he told them he would spare me a similar fate. I would live but I would be his.”

  An uncontrolled moan leaps from my throat and tears fall fast and free down my cheeks.

  I’ve been deliberately not saying his name. Not tonight, not after seeing him and having his hands on me again. It’s all too much right now.

  “Fuck.” His forehead rests against mine and as I begin to cry, he wraps me in his arms.

  There’s still so much more to say but my shame chokes me, crushing my lungs. Endless guilt rips me in two like the crude, gut-wrenching cut of a serrated blade.

  I push away, needing to finish this. “I was his captive for five years. At first, I was locked in a room. Alone. Fed and schooled. He only introduced me to his tech guy. For the longest time, those two were the only people I saw.

  “He messed with my head. Tried to reframe my memories, show me how I was to blame for the death of my parents and my own captivity. He wore me down through isolation. Then coercion and violence.”

  Max’s eyes widen, horrified and enraged, and I look away, unable to maintain eye contact if I’m to tell him the worst of it.

  “I thought I was in hell, but I was so wrong. Hell was still to come. It started when I was thirteen, I think. Time didn’t have meaning.”

  “What started?”

  “The… sex.” I mash my hands over my cheeks, wanting to hide… hide my shame.

  He makes an indecipherable mumble at my side and uncontrolled rage vibrates off him. Hanging my head, I fight the urge to vomit or run, and instead I refuse to cower despite the shame and draw on strength and courage. He won’t get away with what he’s done.

  Wiping at my wet face, I straighten and look at Max. His expression holds nothing but love and concern.

  “At first, it was only him...” I hiccup, my breath catching on disgrace, which I stomp out with my rage.

  “Fuuuck.” His hands fly to his hair, gripping the sides of his head as his teeth gnash together.

  My shame and guilt are constant struggles. While the past few years have been more days of victory than anything else, thanks to my therapy, I’m still unable to spill all the sordid details. I’m not ready, maybe I never will be, to share everything.

  “He kept me in a cell.”

  “A cell?” He freezes but his gaze is alert and I almost see when the similarities of what I’m saying and what he witnessed in the warehouse basement hit him. “Do you think they are connected?”

  I shake my head. “It isn’t likely. Sex slavery is rampant all over the world. I was in England, I think, but I can’t be sure. That’s where Van found me.”

  “Tell me whoever did this to you is dead.” His warm green eyes are fiery, and his body strung so tight that he might snap.

  Air pushes through my tightened lungs and I say, “He’s alive and in New York. I saw him tonight at the dinner.”

  Max grabs both my arms, squaring my body to look straight at him. “What? He lives in New York? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “No, he lives in Europe. We think. His address of record is in Madrid, but we’ve had teams on the ground a few times and we’ve come up empty. We’ve never found him there.”

  “Why is he in New York? What happened tonight?” Worry emanates from his every word.

  I tell him how my captor has come to New York before but never for more than a day or two. Then I explain what happened tonight—a confrontation and veiled threats—but I don’t share all the gory details.

  Withholding the more heart-stopping moments of the night is for my benefit more than his. Max wants to know everything. I just can’t go through it again so soon. I’m already scared enough as it is.

  Throughout it all, I’m deliberately not mentioning Ash by name. It’s almost like Harry Potter and He Who Must Not Be Named. I worry if I utter the name, I’ll conjure him into being. Right now, he’s a nameless, faceless villain, and at times, it’s like what I’m sharing could have happened to someone else.

  “He did this?” Max’s fingers delicately trace my neck where I’m sure I’ve got full-on bruising by now.

  I nod, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to quell the awful memory of Ash strangling me.

  “I’m calling the police. They should arrest him.” He springs to his feet and I scurry after him.

  The dog leaps to my side—I wasn’t even aware he was in the room—and I lunge to grab Max’s arm. “No. Please don’t.”

  He stops, peering at me over his shoulder, shocked. “Why the hell not?”

  “He’s slipped through our fingers every time we’ve tried to get him. This will be the same.”

  The women outside the ladies’ washroom come to mind. They did see Ash, and I suppose we could try to track them down. But it would take time, and while we do that, who knows what Ash will do.

  I shake the thought from my mind. “And even if we could press charges, they won’t stick. It’ll only provoke him and then who knows what. We need to think this through. Van is telling Ry and the rest of them. We’ll fill them in on tonight and figure out what our next move is. We’ve got to be smart about this.”

  His shoulders finally deflate as if relenting and he nods. “Fine, but you’re in danger. You’re staying here and I’ll get increased security.”

  My first impulse is to decline his offer and the added security, but I won’t be safe on my own. Even after all these years and all my training with Van and HC, Ash is my weakness.

  It’s sad to admit but fear and my basest of instincts to survive override everything else when Ash is in front of me. All my training and skills take a back seat, or hell, leave the building, when I’m in his presence.

  But still, staying with Max puts him in danger. For tonight, I will stay here.

  “I wish I’d known…” He comes to stand in front of me. “Not just about tonight but all of it.”

  “Earlier, I just needed to get out of there.”

  He pulls me to him, and we cling to each other. It feels like he needs me as much as I need him. His strong arms are comforting, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck, stealing greedy breaths of his spicy, masculine scent. His scent calms me and makes me feel safe.

  He kisses the crown of my head before resting his chin in the same spot. “I’m here for you. I won’t let him hurt you again. We have to make him pay.”

  Max

  The delicious smell of bacon and eggs hits my senses and my stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since last night, and even at that, I think I had two shrimps before I went looking for Tommie.

  As I enter the kitchen, she stands at the stove flipping pancakes in my Audio Slave t-shirt. It’s huge on her, and Gunnar sit
s dutifully at her feet, hoping for scraps. Man, I could get used to this. I’d like to wake up to her every day. In my bed. In my life.

  “Hey, that looks good on you.” I motion to my shirt, one silky shoulder exposed as the excess fabric around the neck hangs off her.

  It’s a struggle not to kiss her. Last night was tough for her, emotional for both of us, and I’m not sure if being intimate is what she needs right now. The horror of her past couldn't have been easy to recount; I had a hard time and it didn’t even happen to me. But all of that changes nothing for me. My feelings for her are as strong as ever.

  “I hope you’re hungry. I went a bit overboard.” With a mitt on, she removes a plate stacked with pancakes from the oven and my mouth waters.

  “I’m starving.” A plate of bacon and another with eggs are already on the table.

  Tommie sits and I grasp the nape of her neck to kiss her softly. I’m not able to keep my hands and my mouth to myself. She leans into the kiss, one arm curling around my waist.

  “Now that’s a good morning,” I murmur against her warm, soft lips.

  “Good morning.” She peers at me through her dark lashes as a flush works its way up her elegant neck.

  She is so delectable. So strong, and I’m in awe of her. I want to tell her all this but also sense she’s feeling me out based on everything from last night. We talked about taking our relationship beyond friends, then I learned about her past and she was assaulted. Not to mention she’s gun-shy about relationships in general.

  “Did you sleep okay?” I pull out the chair beside her.

  “Sort of.” She shrugs. “How are you doing?”

  “Me?”

  Why is she asking about me? I’m not the one who went through an unspeakable ordeal.

  “Yeah. What I told you last night wasn’t exactly easy to hear.” Do I detect a hint of worry in her tone?

  She loads several pancakes onto her plate, and even with my gaze on her, she doesn’t look at me, busying herself with her food.

  “No, it wasn’t, but my concern is for you. How are you feeling?”

  “I suppose I feel better for telling you. I’ve been meaning to for a while now.” She’s matter-of-fact as she grabs the butter and slathers her pancakes.

  A wad of butter smears the tip of her thumb and her hand goes toward her mouth, but I intercept the movement. My hand wraps around her wrist, bringing her thumb toward my mouth.

  “Tommie, look at me.”

  Her warm eyes connect with mine and everything feels much better.

  “Last night. Your past. None of that changes anything for me. Like I said yesterday, I want you. I want more. And if anything, sharing everything with me only makes me want you even more.”

  My hot tongue sucks on her thumb and she gasps, eyes widening and cheeks heating.

  “Max.” My name is a breathy moan.

  “Yeah?”

  “I feel the same. As crazy as it may be, whatever this is between us, I want it too. But it scares me. There’s so much going on right now. Your mom. My past. It’s a lot to overcome.”

  “Yes. But none of that will change us. We’ll face this together.”

  She nods, her smile growing, and I’m hopeful that I’ve put any of her reservations to rest.

  “Let’s eat and then head over to HC. Talk to Ry and Van. This looks awesome. I can’t wait to dig in.” I kiss the tip of her glistening thumb and release her wrist.

  Shaking her head, she laughs and leans in for a quick kiss. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose that. You’re right, let’s start with talking to Van and the guys.”

  We eat breakfast in silence until she pauses, placing her knife and fork on her plate. “Do you have to go into the hospital today?”

  “Yes, just for a bit. How about dinner and a movie back here tonight? You could stay over again.”

  “Maybe.” She pushes from the table with her dirty dishes in hand.

  “What do you mean maybe?” I shove the last forkful in my mouth and turn to face her.

  “I mean, let’s talk to the guys first and see what they say.”

  Bounding from the chair, I march to her side and lean in, kissing her soft and sweet. Maple syrup lingers on her lips. She whimpers into my mouth and wraps her arms tightly around my neck. For long, hazy moments, we’re lost. The world is no more.

  We kiss until our lips are swollen and my body is strung tight with need. My hand drifts down her back to cup her perfect ass and she releases a hungry moan in the back of her throat.

  She’s the first to pull away, breaking our kiss as she rests her forehead on mine. “Max, what if this goes all wrong?”

  Her coffee-colored eyes pin me, and I instantly regret how selfish I’m being. There is a strong let’s-take-this-slow vibe coming from her.

  “What are we talking about? Us? Or the stuff with my mother? Your past?”

  “All of it, I guess. But more us. What if we mess this up? We’re best friends. I can’t lose you.”

  “Okay. First, you’ll never lose me. Never.” I grasp her backside and she squirms but doesn’t move. I take that as a good sign. “And finally, what if nothing is messed up? What if we only get better? Stronger?”

  “I don’t want to mess up our friendship. I need you in my life.” My chest aches with the vulnerability in her voice.

  “We’re not going to mess anything up. I need you too.” I’m filled with conviction. I believe in us. “I’ve never felt like this about any other woman.”

  She examines my features and whatever she sees eases some of her uncertainty as her brows relax and she stops nibbling on her bottom lip.

  “Let’s come to an understanding.” My hands slide up her sides, resting on her hips with a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

  “Go on.”

  “No matter what happens.” Releasing her, my hands move to her face. “We won’t let it ruin our friendship.” I cup her cheeks. “We’ll always be friends.”

  “Really?” Her eyes close briefly, almost as if in relief at my words. “I don’t have a lot of people in my life. In my inner circle. There aren’t many people I need. But you’re someone I need.”

  The raw truth of her words burrows in my heart. I’ve always felt our deep connection, even when neither of us dared face that we’ve always been more than just friends.

  My mouth captures hers, needing to feel and taste the significance of us in her words.

  “I need you too.” My body against hers, hands on her, matches and fuels my determination to have more with this woman. “We’ll be better together. Trust me.”

  Heat spreads through my chest as she burrows into my arms as if at home.

  Max

  “You should have called last night.” Ry sits in a chair facing Van’s desk at HC.

  After a not-so-great night of sleep, or more like not much sleep at all, Tommie and I agreed that filling in Van, Ry and the others was the first thing we needed to do.

  We’ve been here close to half an hour and she’s just finished retelling the events of the hospital fundraiser. This time, she is way more detailed than she was with me and I try not to take offense. These are her colleagues and she’s being professional and smart about it.

  Besides, if I’m being honest, I’d have lost it at the dinner if I’d learned someone, whoever the fuck he is, tried to strangle her.

  Tommie sighs, nodding once. “I was shaken but I wasn’t alone. I had Max.”

  “Yeah, and what if he’d come after the both of you?” Ry dares one of us to challenge his logic.

  “My building has security.”

  I’m quick to defend our decision, or at least instill confidence in the guys that I can take care of her. I may not have combat training, but I’d never let anything happen to Tommie.

  “Security,” Van scoffs, nailing me with a stern glare. “A breeze for the likes of him.”

  It’s clear he’s taking the opportunity to school me on just how real and dangerous this situ
ation is. And despite my rising hackles and my many questions, it isn’t hard to see the picture is grim.

  “If he wants to get to me, chances are, he will.” Tommie pins Van with her own hard look. “We both know he will.”

  My insides chill. “Who is this psycho?”

  All heads turn to me. Tripp and Coop are silent and brooding with their backs against a wall. Ry and Tommie are sitting across from Van. I’m too restless to sit still and since our arrival, I’ve been pacing at the back of the room.

  Not once last night did she mention this guy’s name. It didn’t go unnoticed and I chose not to press her. Things were already intense, and it wasn’t like I could go after him in that moment. I wasn’t about to leave her.

  Van shares a pointed look with Tommie before glancing at me. “Ash Naire.”

  My hear races and adrenaline surges through my body; fuck, I’m hit with the realization that I could have done something had I known.

  “I met him.” Tight and flat, I don’t recognize the voice as my own. “Last night.”

  Tommie leaps to her feet. “What? How?”

  “He was at the hospital fundraiser. Taya introduced us. I got the sense it’s business.”

  She pales, coming to me and I take her hand in mine, not able to fully grasp how or what she must be feeling. I’m having a hard time processing that I shook hands with the very monster who did horrible, unspeakable things to her. And worse yet, when she was just a child.

  “Tell us everything.” Ry’s dark expression mimics his voice.

  “That’s it. It wasn’t even five minutes and then he left.”

  “We knew he was in New York but haven’t been able to keep a tail on him. Since I met Tommie, we searched for the bastard, and once we located him, we’ve tried to keep an eye on him. That is easier said than done.” Van leans back in his chair, anything but relaxed.

  “We keep in touch with international law enforcement agencies. He goes by Ash Naire but we don’t even know if that’s the name he was born with. He surfaced on Interpol’s radar about twenty-five years ago in Amsterdam.”