Slow Release (Ebony and Ivory Book 1) Read online

  Chapter Thirty One

  The Stalker

  I never counted on bonding with her. The plan was simple. I wanted to kill her. It was supposed to be her death to exact revenge on the man who killed my sister. It wasn’t enough for Damon just to kill my sister outright. No, first he killed her childhood dream. Then, there was the slow, agonizing descent into an abyss of anxiety and depression. Ultimately, she had decided there was only one way out.

  Would it hurt him more if he knew the love of his life was alive but with another man? I’m guessing it would with his massive ego, and that is what I was counting on. I knew it wasn’t really fair to take Skye’s life. She was never part of the destruction Damon wreaked on my family. However, I did think it appropriate recompense that I took her from him. He did, after all, take the one and only thing I ever cared about from me.

  I reached over and picked up the phone, simultaneously turning on a device that would record the conversation. I knew it would bring me much pleasure to listen to the recording in the future. I wanted to hear the agony in his voice after I revealed to the omnipotent Damon D’Angelo that I had his woman, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Now, I was the one with all the power, and I was going to savor every morsel of misery I brought him. This moment was years in the making, trying to find a way to hurt the man who held sentiments for no one. Little did he realize that when he fell in love, he became weak, and I was going to use that weakness against him.

  I knew Damon all too well. He was narcissistic, and he would do what he always did when he got himself in a bind; he would try to buy his way out. This time, his money and power couldn’t save him. I wanted to see him hurt. When he killed my sister, I was devastated, and I wanted him to feel that same level of pain I endured.

  Damon

  He waited to call, just like I knew he would. Like a strange premonition, I immediately knew it was him when the phone rang.

  “Damon, do you know who I am? Because you should; you should know exactly who I am.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, and it seems that puts you at an advantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.”

  “How cliché of you. I’ll tell you exactly who I am. I’m the brother of the model you killed.”

  As soon as he said that, I knew the man I was dealing with.

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “I beg to differ. You didn’t push her from the ledge, but when she jumped from one of your buildings, that should have clued you in that the agony she was forced to endure was of your making.”

  The woman he was speaking of had modeled for me years ago. We had to let her go when she became unstable after refusing to take her prescribed meds. Even after she was screened for mental issues, and we found out she was bipolar and had bouts of depression, we agreed to hire her if she promised to stay on her meds. It was only a matter of time before she went back on that promise and started causing problems for the agency. She started missing photo shoots, and then there were the outbursts. In the end, it was the drug use that finally forced our hand into letting her go. When some of the models she worked with made major covers and she didn’t because of her drug use, it was her undoing. I was contacted late in the evening one night when she jumped to her death from one of our high-rise buildings. From her choice of building, I knew she was sending me a message that she blamed me for her derailed career.

  “You’re her brother, right? I met you at the funeral, didn’t I?”

  “You think a fucking bouquet of flowers got you off the hook? She was all I had, and you took her from me! Now, I'm taking what you love. I’m going to make your life a living hell. You are finally going to pay for all your sins. You’ve used women and thrown them to the side when you were finished. You’ve taken their dreams and shattered them, and you ultimately cost my sister her life. I’m going to make you suffer. It’s going to be a slow, agonizing, and torturous journey, and I’m going to use her to do it.”

  The click on the other end of the line signified he hung up on me. I had what I needed anyway. I now knew the name of the man I was dealing with. This bastard just signed his death warrant by making the mistake of letting me know his identity.

  It wasn’t going to be me suffering through the torture of not knowing how this sick game he was playing would end. I knew exactly what the outcome would be… and that was his body, six feet under in a pine fucking box.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Skye

  I sat up and suspiciously eyed the man walking towards me with a tray in his hand. I pulled at my arm in an effort to get more comfortable, momentarily forgetting it was attached to a chain. I winced in pain when the thick manacle bit into my wrist.

  “When I can trust you, perhaps I’ll allow you to eat unfettered.”

  I found myself quite confused by the smile and affable demeanor of this stranger who took me against my will. His friendliness did nothing to put my mind at ease because I knew anyone crazy enough to kidnap a woman was dangerous. However, I also knew if I could convince him that I trusted him, I might be able to use it against him.

  “Why am I here?” I looked at the tray and was pondering whether or not he drugged my food. His next statement told me he must have been able to read my expression.

  “If I wanted to drug you, I’d just do it. I’m not a man given to hiding my motives. You’re here as payment for your boyfriend’s sins.”

  I leaned in to take the spoonful of soup he held up for me before I answered. “Offenses? What did he do?” I was waiting for him to say something like he had stolen the man’s girlfriend, so I wasn’t prepared for what he did say.

  “He murdered my sister.”

  “I can’t believe he would do something like that.”

  “Many times, people aren’t what they portray to the outside world. You have to remember, in Damon’s world, image is everything. Damon presents himself as a powerful business mogul, but in reality, he’s just as tainted as the rest of us are. We all have our own demons we have to battle, Skye, and now his past has caught up with him.”

  For just a second, I saw the deception in his eyes. If I could assure him that I believed him and, over time, convince him he was winning me over, maybe I’d get out of this alive, possibly even escape.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I’d be more than happy to fill you in on who Damon D’Angelo really is. Much like you, my sister always dreamt of becoming a model. She was doing quite well until one of the other models lied about her and said she wasn’t taking her medication. After Damon fired her, she went into a deep depression and jumped from the rooftop of one of his buildings.”

  His demeanor went cold as he leaned in and hissed, “She was all I had. He took everything from me, and I’m going to do the same to him.”

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “That, young lady, is completely up to you. If you do as I ask, you’ll be safe. My beef isn’t with you; it’s with your boyfriend. You’ll learn to love me and let go of his memory eventually.”

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Damon

  Having the name of the man who took Skye was all I needed to get a wealth of information on him. All along, I believed the threats stemmed from animosity towards me. Now, I had something that would help me get Skye back—understanding. Getting in his head would help me find her and, ultimately, kill him. There was no way I was going to rescue her and then leave him alive just so he could come back for her later.

  The only problem was the more research Marcus did, the more I understood just how dangerous her abductor was. It was going to take Skye using her head too. I listened as Marcus filled me in on just how skilled my adversary was.

  “Aedan O’Hara has ties with the Irish IRA.” I watched as Marcus leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You may need to call in some help on this one. Your Colombian friend, Antonio Wayne, perhaps he could help.”

  “I don’t like owing men like Antonio Wa
yne Ramirez. The guy’s warped. He gets off on torturing people.”

  “In situations like this, it takes a thug to deal with a thug.”

  “Well, one thing is for sure; he fits that bill.” I didn’t like the idea of being indebted to Antonio Wayne Ramirez. He took being dangerous to a whole new level. As much as I didn’t like it, I was going to have to ask for help from one of the most unsavory characters I had ever met. Antonio was going to want something in return, and I knew, by the time it was all said and done, no one would come out of this unscathed.

  I opened the desk and retrieved something I rarely had to use—a burner phone.

  The Stalker

  I watched her rest as I cooked up the concoction I had come to depend on. Despite my assurances otherwise, I laced her soup with something that would help her rest while I conducted business over the phone with my colleagues in Ireland. I was shocked she trusted me enough to eat what I gave her, but I can be a pretty convincing liar. It comes in handy in my line of work. The timing was never good to babysit someone in my home, but I had access to a woman who could be trusted to keep an eye on my hostage while I did business. The ringing of the cell phone I used only for business purposes drew my attention.

  “Antonio Wayne, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I have a shipment coming in, and it’s something that may interest you—fifteen hundred ArmaLite AR-18 automatic rifles. At ten to twelve hundred a piece, I’d say that’s one hell of a mother load.”

  “Yes, my friend, that will do much to serve the cause. That many guns would really make a difference for the Independent Republican Army.” I’d been trying to get him to do business with me for a long time. He usually only worked with the Colombians, and I was pleased he finally agreed to deal with the IRA. Every gun we secured meant one less in the hands of our rivals.

  “When will you be expecting this shipment?”

  “Soon, my friend. I’ll call you when you can pick up the shipment at the docks.”

  “Good, that will give me time to take care of some personal business I need to tend to,” I answered as I eyed my sleeping beauty.

  This deal would give me the money I needed to take my little abductee home to my motherland. Once we were in Ireland, I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping her chained. I would have the same kind of control over her that my nemesis once had. She would be in a foreign land with no one to depend on but me. Yes, things were going much better than I anticipated.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Skye

  I rubbed at my wrist as I contemplated what I overheard as my abductor spoke on the phone. I knew he was lying when I asked about the soup. That was why I hadn’t eaten much. I wanted to eat some because if he felt like I trusted him, it increased my chances of escaping, but I didn’t want to eat so much that I wasn’t coherent. This wasn’t some harmless man, trying to get back at someone he believed had wronged him. I was familiar with just how dangerous gunrunners could be from living in Haiti. The fact that he was dealing in illegal arms meant he had connections, but that wasn’t what scared me the most. What scared me the most was that he was in the IRA. That meant his connections spanned continents. This man was extremely dangerous. For the first time since my abduction, I doubted Damon’s ability to save me.

  I was going to have to use my wits to get out of this predicament. If there was some way I could get to a phone, perhaps I could notify the authorities of the gun shipment. That large of a shipment of guns would ensure he stayed in federal prison for the rest of his life. I pushed away the thoughts of how lethal their organization was and how many enemies I would make if my plan succeeded. The first thing I needed to do was gain this man’s trust. He wasn’t going to be easy to win over, not with the people he was accustomed to doing business with. I was going to have to play on the fact that he was attracted to me. The tricky thing was going to be playing on his attraction and not sleeping with him. I didn’t want to betray Damon, but I certainly didn’t want to die either.

  I jumped when I heard his voice.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  I pulled at the chain on my arm as I answered. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re chained to a bed.” I was shocked when he reached into his pocket and retrieved a key as he made his way over to me.

  As if having second thoughts, he sat next to me on the bed and coldly eyed me as he spoke. “Your every move is on camera. There’s nowhere you can hide from me.”

  I took a moment to study the man speaking to me. He was large with reddish brown hair he pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were blue and, though they were stunning in color, they didn’t hide the cold nature he held within. His Irish heritage showed in his appearance, and I was certain it would manifest in a ruthless manner if I pushed him or was caught trying to escape. I wasn’t dealing with a petty criminal. I was dealing with a man who was a mobster, trained in the art of reading body language and ready to enforce discipline on anyone who attempted deception.

  “I only want the freedom to walk around the room, maybe read one of the books on that shelf over there. You’re drugging me so much I’m losing track of time. I don’t like drugs, and I sure don’t want to become dependent on whatever it is you’re giving me.”

  “If you try and escape, being drugged will be the least of your worries. Don’t fuck with me, Skye. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m weak just because I’ve been kind to you. I have a very ugly side, and I would rather not have to subject you to it.”

  “I have no intentions of trying to escape. Whatever problem you have with my boss is between you and him.”

  “Don’t even try to act like you’re not fucking him, Skye. I have sex tapes that prove otherwise.”

  “You taped my most private moments?”

  “You have no more private moments. Now, don’t make me angry.”

  I hung my head in embarrassment as he reached over and unlocked my wrist.

  “Go take a shower, Skye. There’s fresh clothing in the drawers and closet.”

  “Is there a camera in the bathroom?”

  “I’ve already told you, there’s nowhere you can hide from my all-seeing eyes. Don’t worry, I’m not a man given to raping women. Now, be a good girl and go do as I asked.”

  He got up to leave, but he looked over his shoulder and said one last thing before he left. “The windows are nailed shut, and there is no access to outside communications without the code I embedded. I’ll be very displeased if I catch you nosing around.”

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Damon

  Antonio Wayne didn’t have to arrange a gun run, but he did have to rearrange the deal he already had scheduled. The guns were supposed to be going to the Colombians, but in order to help me, he made a deal with the Irish instead.

  Though I wasn’t involved in illegal matters, I knew enough about weapons dealing to know those who bought them also bought into the idea of solidarity. In other words, they didn’t play nice with each other and liked having sole access to the seller’s goods. No one wanted to worry about the guns getting into their enemy’s hands. It all boiled down to one thing: I would owe Antonio Wayne in ways I didn’t want to owe him. This was the first time in my life I could remember ever wishing I had mob connections. Even from the grave, this girl was causing me more problems than I cared to deal with. I’d gone out of my way to try and help her when I agreed to hire her if she would stay on her meds, and now it was coming back to bite me in the ass.

  This was the exact reason I put potential models through such rigorous background checks. I didn’t want a criminal element anywhere near my business. Now, because this son of a bitch had my woman, I was getting in bed with the most notorious gangster in New York City. To be honest, though, I would have sold my soul to the devil to get Skye home safely. I may have done just that by dealing with Antonio Wayne. This guy had ties that went all the way up into the government in several different countries. I could only hope I hadn’t made a decision Skye and I would regr
et for the rest of our days. I knew I needed to get some sleep with that shipment coming in tomorrow, but I also knew I wouldn’t rest easy until I had the woman I loved back in my arms.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Skye

  I woke up the next morning after a night of fitful sleep. I immediately jumped through the shower in preparation to make my escape. Aedan informed me that his housekeeper would be here to see to my needs. Though he tried to scare me by telling me I was under surveillance, I knew I had a window of opportunity to escape. As far as I was concerned, he could watch the tape of me running out the door when he got back. I’d led him to believe I was scared of him and even though it was true, my need for survival and the fear of being taken to Ireland against my will terrified me much more than any ass beating I’d get for trying to run away.

  I quickly dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and put my plan into motion.

  I pushed the button on the speaker to address whomever had been left to keep an eye on me. I sincerely hoped it was a female housekeeper and not some burley bouncer type, or my plan wasn’t going to work.

  “Hello? Is anyone there? May I please have some coffee?”

  “One moment, dear.” The answer came back quickly. A mixture of relief and guilt flooded through me for what I was about to do, but I had to get the hell out of here.

  I waited behind the door for the woman to bring what I guessed would be a tray of food and coffee and willed my heart to stop beating so frantically.

  The sound of a key being inserted in the lock alerted me that it was now or never if I didn’t want to end up being a very dangerous man’s captive in a foreign land.